WATCHING (23 page)

He looked at his bed for the night, the two-seater couch that was not a pullout
,
and he gave it a lot of thought. He did. But the thought of what he could have lost that day made the decision for him. He moved over to his ready-bag, changing quickly into dark sweats and an FBI issue t-shirt.

He heard a sigh coming from his roommate and he jerked around. Her eyes weren
’
t open, but he knew she was awake.
“
Could you be quiet, please? You
’
re louder than Matthew after he
’
s had a gallon of sugar
.
”

“
Sorry. I was getting ready for bed
.
”
He moved closer to her. Her eyes popped open.

“
I can sleep over there
.
”
She sighed the words as her uninjured hand waved in the loveseat
’
s general direction.
“
You
’
re way too big
.
”

“
Absolutely not. I
’
m not the one who was used as target practice for a madman. You stay right there
.
”
If she insisted he
’
d sleep on the loveseat, or the damned floor. But he hoped she didn
’
t insist.
“
I
’
ll take the floor
.
”

“
I guess you could sleep over here, too,
”
she said, causing him to blink in surprise.
“
Not like anyone else will know. If we
’
re going to catch this
aasshole
we both need to rest. And it
’
s not like we haven
’
t slept together before
.
”

“
True. But are you sure? I don
’
t want you regretting this later
.
”
He was already on the mattress, sinking down beside her. It was a cheap mattress and it tilted, causing her to roll in his direction. Georgia snuggled into him.

It was different lying beside her in a bed compared to being huddled under a blanket in the rear of an SUV. For one thing, it was a lot warmer. For another, her injuries had to be considered. He had nowhere to put his hands, as he laid there curled up behind her.

Hell found one solution; he wrapped his left arm around her hips and stretched his right arm above her head on the pillow. He buried his face in her hair and pulled her tight against him. It took only minutes for him to fall asleep.

Chapter
28

****

He was one of the last damned agents to get back to the motel. Searching the damned hillside for his own self.
What
a laugh. His shoulder stung like a pissed off hornet where that little medical examiner had shot him. Damned scrawny little mouse. Damned lucky shot. She
’
d been defending herself, so he had to admire that. He
’
d have done the same. And it had been a damned good shot. That took skill. He
’
d always admired someone
—
especially a woman
—
who could handle a gun. But she
’
d shot him, and that deserved a bit of payback.

If he had a
hate
list she
’
d be next on it.
After Hellbrook and the princess.

He slammed the door to the SUV before heading to the stairs that led to his motel room. He glanced over his shoulder when he saw another vehicle pull in. The very woman he owed his ruined shirt to climbed out of the passenger side.

He stopped. Her room was next to his, though they
’
d not seen each other even in passing since his team had arrived.

She was a pretty thing, if a bit on the scrawny side for him. He preferred meatier, bustier women. Her hair was down, and he
’
d not seen that before. It changed the look of her. Made her look more feminine by far. Yeah, they
’
d not met face to face. He would have noticed. He lit up a cigarette, adopting a casual manner. He didn
’
t want her to know he studied her.

Instead of climbing the stairs like he expected, she waited until the SUV she
’
d arrived in pulled back out to the highway. He figured it was most likely one of those local agents who
’
d gotten stuck with chauffer-duty. What was the little mouse doing?

He watched as she stood staring at the wide expanse of parking lot before hurrying across it to the diner. Damned place was opened twenty-four hours. Poor little thing had probably missed her dinner, seeing as how she was busy in the woods shooting people. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of heading to the diner and joining her for a bite. Maybe commiserating with her on their shared shitty day. Flirt her up a bit. He decided against it. He didn
’
t have enough information on her, not yet. And he always liked to plan those types of things where females were involved. Worked out better that way.

Who was she? What made her tick? He suddenly wanted to know all about her.

He
’
d not picked a lock in several years so it took him a moment longer than he expected. Before he thought it through, he had her door opened. If someone saw him, their rooms were close enough he knew it wouldn
’
t strike anyone as odd. They
’
d probably think he was going into his own room, that
’
s all.

He didn
’
t know if she was going to eat at the diner or get a to-go order so he didn
’
t have too much time to look around and he knew that. Just a quick, cursory glance.

It was a standard motel room, identical to his with two exceptions. It smelled like a female, and the woman had two framed photographs beside her bed. He picked them up while inhaling, enjoying the soft scent of female and strawberries.

One photo was of a dark-haired man he didn
’
t recognize. The other was of the Dennis princess, an infant
—
probably her boy, and a man most likely the boy
’
s father. He
’
d heard through the grapevine the man had died several years ago.

He didn
’
t seem to be anything special enough to attract Dennis
’
s daughter. Interesting. The two men in the pictures resembled each other enough that it was clear they were family. So the mouse M.E. was related to the princess. Figured. How else would a woman so young end up being the FBI
’
s premiere forensic pathologist? Ed Dennis probably had something to do with it.

He pulled the pictures from their frames, and flipped them over, looking for names or dates. Just out of idle curiosity, even though he knew he should get his ass out of there.

Ashes from his cigarette fell to the portraits, landing on the princess
’
s face. Melted through the photo. Fuck!

Now
the mouse woul
d know someone was in her room. Would she report it?

That thought had him pausing. Would they dust for prints? Other DNA? How would he explain being in her room if they did?

The picture frames were the only things he
’
d touched, and they were made of wood and plastic. She probably used the cheap frames because they traveled well. That was good for him, as they
’
d burn well, too. He pulled his lighter from his pocket and set the flame to the edge of the photo of the lone man. It took only a moment to ignite. He watched it smolder before throwing it in the metal trashcan beside the ironing board.

He started on the second one then added it to the top.

He tossed them in the trashcan, following with several pages of phone book and motel directory. He stood and watched it burn for a few moments after a quick glance out her window toward the diner. He could see the bright yellow of her sweatshirt in the front booth. She was eating so he had several minutes to spare. He
’
d need it. He needed to erase all signs he
’
d been in her room. Fire was the only way he could think to do it. He rubbed his head, wishing he
’
d popped a few pain pills. Damned rocks had hit him pretty hard.

He could burn everything she had with her. That would be answer enough. Could destroy any hint he
’
d been in her room.

But how?

Years as an agent gave him all the tools he
’
d need. In the bathroom that smelled like woman he found a travel first aid kit. Inside he found two full bottles of Isopropyl alcohol.

He carried the still smoldering trashcan into the room
’
s tiny kitchenette. He sat it in front of the counter, then led a trail of half the alcohol to the can. He placed the other bottle in the microwave along with his cigarette lighter and used parts of the phone book and a few coffee filters to add to the trail of alcohol that led to the trashcan. He lit another cigarette. Then another and another. Those, he placed close to the path of accelerant but not touching, spaced at three intervals.

He set the microwave on three minutes. Hit the start button. As he backed away quickly, one kicked sent the trashcan tottering, the smoldering remains of her photographs and refuse tumbling out, directly into the alcohol.

He stood outside his door until he heard a rush of explosion. It was quiet, nothing to draw attention as the room on the opposite side of hers wasn
’
t occupied. He
’
d give it a few moments, maybe ten, to really get burning. Then he
’
d pull the fire alarm, maybe break down her door for effect. After all, they were neighbors, of a sorts.

If anyone found anything, he could always say he went in to make sure she wasn
’
t still in there. To save her, if need be.

It was his job to be a damned hero, after all. No matter how far he
’
d strayed from that path the last few days, it was still his job to save lives.

Chapter
29

****

The alarm woke Hell first. Then the smell of smoke. He jerked up, disoriented when the woman be
side
him moved. He
’
d forgotten he slept with her. Thick smoke filled his room, and he moved, jumping from the bed.
“
Georgia! Wake up!
”

She jerked up, confused and trembling. He stepped back from the bed, foot catching on her backpack. He grabbed the bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed her arm.
“
Come on, move! The damned motel
’
s on fire!
”

The smoke thickened around them, and he knew the fire had to be close, either their room or one of the two beside theirs. She wasn
’
t moving fast enough for him, pain meds making her sluggish.

He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the door. His free hand fumbled with the locks. It took him longer than he liked. He never let go of her hand.

He flung the door open. Hands pulled him forward, tried to loosen his grip on the woman behind him. He refused to let her go.

“
Let her go, Hell. It
’
s ok, boy, you
’
re out of there! Let me have her! I
’
ve got her, you
’
re both safe!
”
Hell could make out Dan
’
s blonde hair and green shirt in the street lights through watering and burning eyes. Coughs wracked his chest, and he heard Georgia in a similar state. He turned to her, pulling her closer and letting her lean against him. His arms tightened around her. He shook his head at Dan, stopping him from pulling Georgia away from Hell and to his own chest.

“
Dammit, Hell
.
”
Dan
’
s voice broke on the words and Hell looked at him as the older man
’
s hands fell back.
“
We thought she was in there, alone
.
”

He motioned to the room next to Hell
’
s. Georgia
’
s. Reaching flames were shooting out of the room and the one above it, lighting up the dark parking lot. If anyone had been in that room, there wouldn
’
t have been any chance
—
not at that point. Hell had saved her life, taking her to his room.
The enormity of it hit him hard and his arms tightened around her.

“
I didn
’
t want her to be alone in there
.
”
Hell shook, the tremors most likely visible for the others to see.
“
Not after being injured and a possible target
.
”

“
Thank God you had her
.
”
Norton ran a hand down Georgia
’
s back.
“
Thank God
.
”

“
Yeah
.
”
Hell pulled her from the other man and closer to himself. She went willingly, seeming as in shock as Hell felt.
“
But what were the odds that her motel room would catch fire tonight of all nights
?
”

“
You think it was the UNSUB
?
”
Dan asked, as the sound of sirens blasted through the night.

“
Had to be
,
”
Georgia said, her own body wracked by chills.

Hell tightened his hold even more.
“
Do we have a report of any injuries yet? The rooms above ours? Brockman
’
s team and the M.E. and her assistant were on that level, as well as you two
.
”

“
Brockman
’
s checked in, as have all of his people
,
”
Dan said.
“
The medical examiner a scrawny little thing no bigger than Ana or Georgia
?
”

Hell nodded. She was a small-boned brunette...who
’
d probably shot the UNSUB, and had been a damned sight more accessible than Georgia. The UNSUB targeting Dr. Bellows wasn
’
t out of the realm of possibility. Hell should have ensured someone was guarding her. Dammit, if anything had happened to Georgia
’
s friend, it would devastate her.
“
That
’
s her
.
”

“
Saw the doctor, then, a little while ago at the diner. Not the assistant
,
”
Dan said, pointing toward the far side of the parking lot.
“
We had a few with smoke inhalation. Stephenson, and a few others. She was over there, giving first aid
.
”

“
Whatever caused this, it was no coincidence
.
”
Hell kept his arm around Georgia, partially to keep her from running in the direction Dan indicated and partially to reassure himself that she was ok. That they were both ok.

He looked at her, watching the shadows of the night and fire flickering over her pale face. She stood staring at the burning building. She looked sad, vulnerable, even a little defenseless, and he couldn
’
t stand it, couldn
’
t stand thinking what would have happened if she
’
d not been with him. He raised his arm off her left shoulder; her injured right one tucked tight against his side, and pulled her head to rest against his chest. His head lowered and he kissed her.