Witness (10 page)

“Because you’re smart. Smart’s sexy, baby.”

She giggled. “Good to know. Now are you going to answer my question?”

“You don’t need to worry. A couple of my guys are on you both. Dallas wouldn’t let her go without that deal.”

“Right. What’s up with them?”

“Long and complicated story, babe. Started in high school and the drama continues today.”

“So not a subject to broach, huh?”

“You go with your gut, Bailey. But if you and Mase get on the subject of she and Dallas, don’t be surprised if the conversation doesn’t go well.”

“Good to know,” she said.

He pulled his phone out. “Macey’s almost here. I’ll walk you down and then grab our stuff and check out.”

Bailey took a few minutes to brush her teeth again, grabbed her jacket and purse, and followed Brock downstairs.

* * *

Bailey about fell over when Macey drove up. For a woman who dressed like a girly-girl, she certainly didn’t drive a girly-girl car. She drove a newer model, black Dodge 4x4 Hemi pick-up truck. Bailey couldn’t stop a giggle as she approached.

“You didn’t peg her as a truck person, huh?” Brock said.

“Not even close.” She grinned up at him. “Lexus, Mercedes, something like that, but badass cowboy truck, not so much.”

He smiled, kissed her temple, and waited for Macey to drive forward. She slid down the passenger side window and grinned. “How’s my date?”

Bailey laughed. “This baby bird is happy to have flown the coop.”

“I bet,” Macey agreed.

Brock opened the truck door, and Bailey climbed inside and secured her seatbelt. He kissed her quickly then closed the door, leaning in the window. “You know the drill, Mase.”

“Yes I do, Brock-a-by.” Macey grinned. “I also know you’ve got two guys on us, so it’s all good.”

He smiled, reaching in and cupping Bailey’s neck. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Bailey nodded. “Love you.”

“Me too, baby.” Brock stepped back and Bailey raised her window as Macey pulled away from the curb.

“He’s got it bad,” Macey observed.

“He does?”

Macey chuckled. “Hell yeah. Trust me on that.”

Bailey felt warm and gushy with that tidbit of information. “I kind of have it bad too.”

Macey laughed. “Picked up on that.”

Bailey was thrilled to discover lunch was at Serratto’s in the Pearl. It was on her top ten places to eat, considering they
never
disappointed. The food and service were incomparable.

The waiter took their orders and Bailey smiled at Macey. Macey was a stunning red-head, her hair long, which Bailey wouldn’t have guessed as she kept it in a bun while nursing. “So, are you and Dallas dating?” Bailey grimaced. “Ignore me. Ignore that,” she rushed to say. “I’m no filter Bailey for a reason, so just let that go.”

Macey giggled. “Don’t worry about it, Bailey. People ask us that all the time. I’ll just say it’s complicated.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

Bailey snorted. “I think you know the most interesting part of my story.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I was kept on a tight leash my entire life until I moved here. I went to private school, only dated the boys my parents approved of, and got good grades.” She shrugged. “Pretty boring stuff.”

“I don’t think that’s boring,” Macey said. “I think it’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Bailey smiled and her eyes drifted to the windows that faced out to Kearney and her heart started racing. Fear gripped her and she shoved away from the table and rushed to the bathroom, locking herself into a stall and sliding to the floor.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

B
ROCK
G
LANCED
D
OWN
at his phone. “Macey? You guys okay?”

“No, Brock. Bailey’s freaking out. She’s in the bathroom and I can’t get her to come out. I don’t even know if she knows who I am. She’s totally silent.”

“I’m on my way.” Brock grabbed his jacket and headed to his car.

Arriving at the restaurant, he left the car in a red zone and rushed inside, straight to the bathroom where Macey stood outside one of the stalls trying to get Bailey to come out.

“It’s locked,” Macey said.

Brock nodded. “Baby, I need you to come out of there or I’m going to kick it open.”

Bailey didn’t answer. He knelt down and looked under the stall. She was in the back corner, well away from the door, her face contorted in fear, her eyes scrunched close. He stood and kicked open the door. Bailey screamed, covering her face with her hands as Brock approached her. When he reached down to touch her, she fought him, but he pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. “Baby, it’s me. Shhh.”

It took a few seconds, but she fell against him and burst into tears.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Russian,” she whispered.

“What, baby?”

“I remembered more.”

“What did you remember?” he asked gently.

“There
was
a Russian and I just saw him outside.”

Brock frowned. It couldn’t have been Mikhail, the man at the hospital, as he was still in custody. “What did he look like, Bailey?”

She slid her hands around his waist and burrowed into his chest, too upset to continue.

“Did you see anyone?” he asked Macey.

Macey shook her head. “She looked out the window and her face went white. When I looked, all I saw was the back of a man in jeans and a leather jacket, but I couldn’t tell you anything else, or if that was even him.”

“But he caught your eye, Mase. Why? Think.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. It was the stance Brock and Dallas had helped Macey master years ago. She was always amazed by how much more she could remember by visualizing. “Five-foot-eleven I’d say. Shorter than you and Dal. Dark blond hair. Limp.” Her eyes flew open. “He had a limp. Right leg.”

Brock grinned. “You’re brilliant, Mase.”

Keeping a tight hold on Bailey, Brock called Dallas and gave him the information. “Get someone over to Serratto to fix the door, okay? Thanks.” Sliding his phone into his pocket, he gave Bailey a gentle squeeze. “Let’s head back to the house.”

Bailey nodded.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Macey asked.

“You can’t come back to the safe house, Mase.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Sorry.”

“Oh, right.” Macey frowned. “No worries.”

“I’m so sorry, Macey. I’ve ruined our lunch,” Bailey said, her face red.

“No you haven’t. I already asked our server to pack everything up. Brock will pay for it and it’ll be dinner.”

“How about you meet us over at my place around six?” Brock suggested.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll eat and catch up. Payton would love it as well.”

Macey grinned. “I’ll call her.”

Brock smiled. “Perfect.”

“I’ll take care of the food,” Macey said. “And let them know someone will be by to fix the door.”

“Thanks, Mase,” Brock said, and guided Bailey from the restaurant.

* * *

Back at the safe house, Bailey sat in her favorite chair and pulled her knees to her chin, wrapping her arms around her ankles. Brock sat on the coffee table and laid his hands on her thighs. “Hey. You okay?” he asked.

“No. I’m mortified.”

“Why?”

“Because I totally embarrassed Macey, myself…you. I’ll never be able to show my face there again.”

Brock shook his head. “You didn’t embarrass me
or
Macey. And as far as you feeling that way, well, those are your feelings and we’ll sort them out, but don’t feel them on behalf of me and Mase. That lady’s a tough nut to crack and it’s impossible to embarrass her.”

“I really like her.”

Brock smiled. “She likes you too, babe.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Bailey bit her lip. “I just don’t want your friends to think I’m weak or a drama queen.”

“Believe me, no one thinks that.” He raised an eyebrow. “But remember when I told you if someone doesn’t like you…”

“They’re your friends, Brock.”

“I get it, sweetheart, but no one’s more important than you. Not even my friends.”

“Thank you.” She felt her heart swell as she settled her chin on her knees. “Are we really going to your place?”

He nodded.

“And your sister will be there.”

He nodded again.

“I’m going to meet your sister.”

“You’re going to meet one of my sisters, yes.” He frowned. “But only if you want to.”

“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes. “What if she doesn’t approve?”

Brock chuckled. “Baby, she’s going to love you. Trust me on this.”

“Will she be mad that we got engaged before meeting her? Will the rest of your family?”

“No, baby.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

“Positive.”

“What if they are? What if Payton decides I’m not the right one?”

“Babe,” he said, trying not to laugh.

“We need a code word.”

“A code word?”

“Yes. You’re an FBI agent, don’t your teams have code words when it’s time to scram?”

“Scram? Do you think my partner’s Elliott Ness?”

She kept going. “If she hates me and you decide I need to go somewhere and hide because it’s not safe for me, you give me the word and I’ll go somewhere until you come get me.”

“Go somewhere and hide?”

“Yes, like Siberia…or the moon!” she stressed. “You have badass skills, right? The moon shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“Didn’t count on being an astronaut, baby.”

“Then your bathroom. I’ll hide in the bathroom.”

“Holy shit, babe, you’re spiraling.”

“Fresca.”

“What?”

“Fresca. It’s our code word.”

Brock dropped his head back and laughed. A deep, belly laugh. Bailey stared at him for a few seconds before she joined in.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much,” she admitted. “I never liked Fresca anyway.”

Brock laughed again and pulled her legs out of their protective position and slid between them. “I’ve got your back, okay?”

She nodded.

“How about you pack a small bag and we’ll head to my place? You can spend the night.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

She grinned. “Okay. I’ll go pack now.”

“Perfect.” He stood and pulled her up, kissing her before releasing her to head to her room.

* * *

Bailey stared out the window at Brock’s duplex as they drove up. It was on a quiet street not far from the safe house and looked very suburban. “It’s cute.”

Brock chuckled. “Yeah, cute’s the right word.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s fine for now,” he admitted as he pulled into his garage and closed the door. “It’s close to my parents and I bought it because I was gone more than I was home, so they could look after it when I was on assignment. It was cheaper than rent and I get a tax write off.”

“So, not the dream home then?”

He laughed. “Not even close.”

He slid from his car and walked to Bailey’s side and opened the door. Once he grabbed her bag from the trunk, he led her into the house.

They walked through a mud-slash-laundry room and then into the family room, kitchen combo. The rooms were painted in a muted yellow, a large brown, micro-suede sectional sat against the back wall, with a flat screen television across from it. A fireplace was nestled in the corner and she was surprised by how homey the place was. Masculine, but nice.

“It’s gorgeous, Brock,” she said.

“Tell Payton tonight. She did the majority of the decorating.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll show you the upstairs and set your stuff down, then I’ll show you around the kitchen.”

Bailey followed him upstairs and into the bedroom at the back. The walls were painted gray and the king-sized bed sat against a large, black leather upholstered headboard. The bedding was gray, black, and white, and although it was really masculine, it was lush, which made it look chic and stylish.

“Wow, your sister knows what she’s doing,” Bailey said.

Brock chuckled as he set Bailey’s bag on a chair by the window. “She’s good value for sure.”

“How many women have been here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean, how many women have I fucked in this house?”

“Yes.”

“None.”

“At all?”

“No, babe. I have never brought a girlfriend here for that.”

“Oh,” she said, giving him a satisfied smile.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Always.”

“Like I want to christen the bed.”

Brock laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

* * *

One week later, Bailey stood with Brock, Dallas, and Macey, on the front porch of her parents’ historic home in Manchester. She pointed out landmarks on their ten acre property, grinning from ear to ear as she did.

Brock smiled at her excitement. She loved her home. Even with the recent tension and questions surrounding her parents, this home meant something to her. She’d survived through two more pointed and uncomfortable conversations with her parents, but they seemed willing to keep an open mind about Bailey’s relationship with Brock.

He laid his hand on her back as she talked about the history of the area, wondering if this might be where she wanted to land. He wasn’t sure how he felt about leaving the Pacific Northwest, but if it was something she wanted, he’d give it to her.

In the past week they’d managed to pack up her apartment and store her things in Brock’s garage, meet with her doctor to get her on contraceptives, and introduce her to Brock’s family. He’d also gone further and gotten tested so that once Bailey’s pill kicked in, she would feel comfortable and safe with him. Not surprisingly, his family adored her. Despite her nervousness, she’d been folded into his tight-knit clan with an ease even Payton had commented on. “This is why you’ve waited to bring a girl home, huh?”

“What do you mean?” he’d asked his sister.

“You had to wait for the perfect woman.”

Brock had laughed, giving his sister the bear hug of bear hugs. “Absolutely.”

“Well, I love her.”

“So do I,” he said.

Bailey pushed open the front door, drawing his focus back to her. “I’m home,” she called.

A large, black woman in a gray maid’s uniform walked into the foyer, her arms out, ready for a hug. “Welcome home, Miss Bailey!”

Bailey wrapped her arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “Bets. How are you?”

“I’m wonderful, honey. How about you?”

“Perfect.” She pulled away from the woman and turned to the group. “Betsy Malcolm, this is Dallas Stone, Macey Gilbert, and this gorgeous man is Brock Williams,” she said, and held up her left hand, “my fiancé.”

Brock reached out to shake her hand, noting the maid looked a little surprised, but recovered quickly and shook his in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Williams.”

“Please call me Brock,” he said.

Betsy nodded toward Dallas and Macey, her expression kind, but guarded.

“No mom and dad?” Bailey asked.

“Your Mama’s out for a few hours, but your daddy’s in his office.” She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” she admitted.

“Come into the kitchen after you see your father. Is James taking care of your bags?”

“Yes,” Bailey said, referring to the driver who had picked them up from the airport.

The maid walked toward the back of the house again and Brock pulled Bailey close. “This house looks like something out of Lincoln’s time,” he said.

“Funny you say that. Robert Lincoln’s house isn’t far from here,” she said.

“I’m afraid I’ll break something,” Macey admitted.

“Don’t be,” Bailey assured her. “Seriously. Just make yourselves at home. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my father.”

* * *

Bailey led the group down a long hallway and knocked on an ornate door at the end.

“Come in,” a deep, male voice called.

She pushed open the door and took Brock’s hand, pulling him inside. Dallas and Macey followed. “Hi, Daddy.”