Authors: Cynthia Eden
He shut the door, making sure not to slam it. Reed was a facilitator in the business. The kind of guy with too many contacts. One who loved providing work to down-on-their-luck cowboys and soldiers. Dangerous work.
Cigarette butts littered the ground. Through the small windows, he saw that the bar’s interior was dim and silent. He passed the bar, not slowing. Veronica’s quiet footsteps followed him.
“Are you sure he’s our guy?” she whispered.
Jasper grunted. “You hired me for my contacts, didn’t you?” Only she didn’t know that the contacts in question had actually come from the EOD. Sydney had done the intel on this one. Once Jasper had ID’d Reed, Sydney had linked the guy to Cale. For the past five years, Cale had always visited the bar just days before he went out on a mission. He
never
came into the bar any other time.
Just right before he deployed. Five days before each mission, to be precise. Like clockwork.
Sydney had riffled through Cale’s credit-card records in order to find that little nugget of information.
At the apartment door, Jasper hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Veronica out in the open, but he also didn’t want her to see just how hard he might have to push Reed.
I can’t take him down in front of her. It will blow my cover.
But he also wasn’t about to let the guy get away. Not if this little Q and A went down the way he thought it would.
His gaze flickered to her. She stared at him, then mouthed,
I’m coming with you.
Well, situation settled. Nodding grimly, he lifted his hand and slammed his fist into the door. “Reed Montgomery, open the door. My name’s Jasper Adams. I need to—”
The door swung inward. Because it wasn’t locked. Because it wasn’t even shut all the way and the force of Jasper’s fist had sent the wood sliding in.
The interior of the apartment seemed as dim and silent as the bar.
“Reed?” he called out, raising his voice.
No response.
But he’d seen Reed’s motorcycle parked outside the apartment. Sydney had tagged the vehicle so that Jasper would know what ride to look for at the scene.
He took a step inside.
Veronica grabbed his arm. “You can’t just walk in there,” she said, voice hushed. “That’s against the law! That’s breaking and entering.”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s not breaking if the door is wide open.”
She blinked.
“Besides, this
is
why you hired me.” No way was he about to let this perfect opportunity slip by him. He took her wrist and pulled her inside behind him. She shut the door, looking pale but determined.
Her first B and E, well, E. Cute.
He glanced around. All of the blinds were down, so they didn’t have to worry about anyone taking a shot at them right then. The shooter would never be able to get a clear hit without seeing into the apartment. Jasper began to advance, surveying the area. Everything seemed to be in place. No furniture overturned. TV turned off. Breakfast...
Still out.
Jasper froze. A half-eaten pancake with congealed syrup waited on the kitchen table. “Reed?” he called one more time even as his nose twitched. The smell in the place was off. The deeper he went into the apartment, the thicker that slightly rancid odor became.
He paused in front of a closed door. Had to be for the bedroom because the bathroom was right next to the little den. Before he turned the knob, Jasper took out his gun and cradled it carefully in his right hand. No sounds came from inside that room. Not even a whisper of sound.
He opened the door.
Because the dead can’t whisper.
Reed Montgomery was most definitely dead.
The man’s body was lying facedown on the floor. Blood had pooled beneath him. His hands were out by his sides, positioned deliberately.
Jasper knew that if he turned the man over, he’d find that the guy’s throat had been sliced. The killer had come up on the guy, walked silently up behind him, caught him off guard...
And used his knife on Reed’s throat. The man wouldn’t have even had the chance to scream. Not that a scream would have helped him.
Just like the others.
Because Jasper had looked at a crime scene like this before. Three times before.
“Jasper.” Veronica’s strangled voice. He glanced at her, saw the horror on her face. The increased pallor of her skin.
Hell. Another dead body for her to deal with in less than twenty-four hours.
He blocked her view. “Go back into the den.” He needed to search the scene. He couldn’t risk her contaminating evidence, and he just...
I don’t want her having to stare at the body.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” She swallowed. “The man who owns the bar. The one you called Reed.”
He nodded.
“I...talked to him last night. He’s the one who directed me to you when I came in Last Chance.”
So Reed had recognized him, too. Jasper had suspected that the man remembered him. Reed would also have known that Veronica was Cale’s sister. No way would the guy not be aware of her, not after all of his dealings with Cale. So Reed had realized that Jasper and Veronica were hooking up; he’d probably figured that Jasper was helping to track Cale.
Just hours after he’d gotten that knowledge, he had been killed.
Killed...
silenced.
The killer knew I was coming to talk to Reed.
So Reed had been taken out.
“He asked me...asked if I was sure I wanted you.” Her gaze was on his. “I was sure.” Her chin lifted. “Is he dead...because of whatever is happening with Cale?”
Why lie? Besides, the woman already knew the truth. “Looks that way.”
He gave her credit. She didn’t flinch. Her shoulders straightened, and she turned for the door. She’d taken two steps when she hesitated. “Did he suffer?”
“No.” The kill had been quick and clean. The work of a man who knew just what he was doing with a knife.
“Good.” Her breath whispered out. “My father...he suffered... No one should have to suffer.” She slipped from the room.
Swearing, Jasper turned back to the body. He yanked out his phone. Punched one button to get Gunner on the line. “I’m going to need a crime-scene team out at Last Chance,” he said, not bothering to identify himself. “Our guy’s struck again.”
A swift inhalation of air, and then Gunner demanded, “You’re sure it’s the one we’re looking for?”
“No sign of B and E.” Not from what he could tell.
Just like the other scenes.
“Looks like the victim let him in.” The kill had happened just hours before. “Then when the vic turned his back, the killer struck.” His fingers tightened on the phone. “The attack came from behind, just like the others. A slice right across the jugular. The victim bled out.” Had it been easy? Had he suffered?
He sure would never tell Veronica if the guy had. The last thing she needed to know was just how sadistic Cale could be.
“Get our medical examiner in on this.” They’d fly Dr. Sarah Jacobs in. No local with shaking hands would handle this kill. “I’m betting that once the crime-scene guys go over this, and she gets to see the body, all the results will be the same as before.”
The results...the info that the techs gathered about the killer’s height and weight and military training...all based on the kill method.
Height...approximately six foot three. Tall enough that he had to slice downward when his hand curled around the victims’ necks.
Weight...two hundred pounds. He’d left shoe imprints in clay outside one of the vic’s homes.
The killer’s mistakes.
Uncle Sam’s crime-scene team could do some damn incredible things with their technology. Like...
Determine the guy’s weight based on the depth of those impressions. Get the man’s height based on the length between his steps and the size of the shoe. A height that had matched dead-on with the M.E.’s estimates.
The killer had even left one other valuable piece of info behind in those shoe impressions. A few bits of clay that could be tracked back to only a handful of locations in the U.S....and one of those locations was right here in Whiskey Ridge.
The killer had screwed up on that second kill. When he’d gone after Julian Forrest, an ex-marine, the killer had counted on the forecasted prediction of rain to wipe away his footprints.
That rain hadn’t come.
Did you screw up this time, too?
He was about to find out.
Jasper exhaled. “The kill’s fresh,” he told Gunner. “We need our team searching the area. Cale Lane
is
here, and unless I’m wrong, it sure looks like he’s trying to cover his tracks.”
By killing.
Because Reed Montgomery wasn’t like the last three victims that had been killed in their homes. Victims who’d opened the door to the killer because they had known him.
They all knew Cale.
In one way or another, those three victims had all traced back to Cale. One of the men had trained with him in Georgia. Another had been on a mission with Cale in Syria. One had worked with Cale for a month in an African desert.
All three of those victims had been EOD. They’d been executed.
Reed...he’d been executed, too, but not because he was EOD. He’d died for another reason.
To protect the killer’s identity.
Jasper ended the call.
He killed you because of what you knew.
Now Jasper just needed to find the evidence that Reed had possessed. Evidence that had been worth killing for.
* * *
C
ALE
L
ANE
WATCHED
the house, his eyes narrowed as his fingers curled around his weapon. He preferred to use a knife on his kills. Much quieter than a gun. More personal. You were able to get right up to your target. With a knife, there would be no mistakes. No miscalculations on those up-close kills.
Jasper Adams knew all about close kills. The man had been killing for over ten years.
And now that man was with his sister. Cale had seen them go into the apartment together. Seen the way Jasper’s fingers lingered on Veronica’s arm.
He’d warned Jasper to stay away from her.
Jasper should have listened to him.
Now his old buddy was going to get caught in the bloody battle. There was nothing Cale could do to change fate. Death was coming. No, death had already taken over Whiskey Ridge. He could feel its dark shadow all around him.
The only thing to do now... Cale had to make sure the blood that spilled didn’t belong to his sister. But anyone else...
Fair game.
Chapter Five
The computer was just sitting there. Okay, not so much sitting as hiding beneath a pile of papers. But as Veronica paced the small den, she caught sight of the laptop, and before she could think of the million reasons why she shouldn’t open it, she was on the couch, the laptop in her hands.
Immediately, the password screen popped up. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t know Reed. Knew nothing about him except...
Last Chance.
She typed the letters quickly, not looking at the keys. Her gaze darted back to the hallway. Jasper was still in there, with the body.
Her stomach churned. There had been so much blood.
Don’t think about him. Don’t. Build that wall of ice again. Don’t feel. Don’t. Feel.
Three dead bodies. At least she hadn’t seen the light go out of Reed’s eyes.
But she’d looked at him, at his long body, and for an instant, she’d seen her brother.
Cale isn’t dead.
And Last Chance wasn’t the right password.
Of course, would it ever be that easy?
Her gaze flew around the room. Looking for something, anything to help her. Most people used passwords that reminded them of things they loved. Kids’ names, hobbies, favorite books, favorite—
There was a big poster of John Wayne on the guy’s wall.
The Duke was the password that let her in to his system.
Her shoulders hunched as she curled over the screen. Her fingers typed, faster and faster as she searched through the material. Files had been deleted, recently, too, but the person deleting hadn’t known what he was doing. Sure, he’d sent the material to the trash, then deleted the trash, but...
That wasn’t good enough.
Two more clicks of her fingers and she had the “deleted” files open.
One file was titled “Chances.”
She clicked it and frowned as she read. It looked like a series of jobs. Not so much jobs as...maybe missions. Locations were listed. Dates. Then some sort of code names. Razor. Jumper. Deuce. Striker Two.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped. Jasper had come back. Moved so silently that she’d never even heard him enter the room. Cale was the only other man she knew who could move like that.
Her heart was in her throat, but she swallowed and managed to shove it back down where it belonged. “I found Reed’s laptop and recovered some files.” She frowned up at him. “He doesn’t name the men who’ve been working his jobs. They all have code names.”
His lips tightened. “There could be prints on that laptop.”
Prints. She hadn’t even—
“Put it down, carefully. Crime-scene techs will be coming soon.”
They’d find her prints all over the machine. Wonderful. Prints at a crime scene. Witness to two murders hours before. This wasn’t exactly the exciting life that she’d always craved.
Gingerly, she put the laptop on the old coffee table. “He lists names like Deuce, Razor, Striker—”
“Striker is the code name that your brother used.”
And her heart was right back in her throat. Her gaze flew to the screen. “His last job was... It was just three weeks ago. In...Phoenix?” That didn’t make any sense. “What kind of job would he be doing there?”
“You really don’t know him that well,” Jasper murmured.
Goose bumps rose on her arms. She stood, shaking. “Do you know what kind of job took him there?” She rubbed her forehead. “He saved people. That’s what he told me. He took rescue missions. When tourists were kidnapped and held for ransom, their parents couldn’t always pay, so
he
went in.” She didn’t like what Jasper was implying. “Cale is a hero,” she said again.
Jasper didn’t speak then. In that stark silence, Veronica wasn’t sure...was she trying to convince him that her brother was a good man or was she trying to convince herself?
“I’ve seen names like these before,” she whispered. Not those exact names, but similar ones. She rubbed a hand over her forehead. “They were scribbled on the backs of some old photos that Cale had at the house and—” She broke off, her eyes widening.
“I’d seen him before.”
Jasper frowned at her.
“The tattoo on Reed’s arm.” She barely breathed the words. “That’s why it caught my eye at Last Chance. I—I’d seen it...in one of the pictures at the ranch.” She thought about Reed’s face, took ten years away from it, gave him hair... “He served with my brother.”
“That’s how they connected. How Reed knew that Cale could get the jobs done for him.”
Jasper had recognized Reed, too. He’d remembered the man from the military, and Jasper had known just what sort of business Cale had been involved with at the bar.
Before she could figure out what to say next, she heard the growl of a car’s engine. Jasper tensed, and his hand went to his waist—and to the gun tucked in his waistband.
Then he was moving silently toward the door. Pushing aside the shade and peering outside. After a brief moment, the tension left his shoulders. “It’s the good guys.”
For some reason, it was getting harder for her to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys.
Jasper glanced back at her. “Gunner’s team is in town. When I found the body, I called them.” He paused a beat, then said, “You can trust them.”
She shook her head. “
You’re
the only one I trust.”
He gazed back at her. A faint furrow appeared between his brows.
“Why didn’t you just call the sheriff?” she asked. “Wyatt would—”
“This case is a little over his head. And the station blew up last night. He’s already got enough to deal with.” He tucked the gun back in his waistband. “If the agents need his help, they’ll say so.”
She pushed her hands against the tops of her thighs. She was sweating, far too nervous and far too aware of the dead body down the hallway.
Then the front door opened. A tall, dark man with short black hair and a faint scar under his chin marched inside. He seemed to fill the small room, dominating the space. Between him and Jasper, she suddenly felt very, very overwhelmed.
Then the stranger’s gaze turned toward her. “You’re Veronica Lane.”
She nodded.
“I’m Agent Logan Quinn.” He offered his hand.
She took it slowly and immediately had her fingers clasped in a warm, strong grip.
Then she was free. Logan glanced at Jasper. “Glad you were on this one, man. If she’d wandered in alone...”
Her spine straightened. “I would have managed to call the authorities just fine on my own.”
Logan’s eyelids flickered. “Of course, my apologies, you would have, but if the body’s as fresh as Jasper says, then the killer may still be close by.”
Just what she didn’t need to hear.
“Let’s ease out of here until the techs arrive.” Logan waved toward the door.
Unable to help herself, Veronica cast a longing look toward the laptop.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that,” Logan told her.
Yes, that was what she was afraid of.
Veronica nodded even as she curled her hand over the small flash drive that had been attached to the laptop. The flash drive that she’d taken the liberty of “borrowing”—right after she’d copied those recovered files. The files had been saved to the flash drive just seconds before Jasper had appeared in the den.
The sunlight hit her the minute she stepped outside the apartment. Spring, but it was still already uncomfortably warm. Veronica was surprised to see a few other cars there. Her gaze scanned the lot. She recognized Gunner. Beside him stood a woman with short blond hair and fierce eyes. A few people in suits were scattered around the area.
“We’ll let the crime techs take over while we do a little...hunting in the area.”
Logan’s voice was mild, but his use of the word
hunting
seemed strange to her. She looked over at him, frowning.
“You need some help with that?” Jasper asked, his own voice just as mild.
Logan hesitated, then glanced her way. “We got this covered. Why don’t you just finish your business with Ms. Lane.”
She didn’t think that she liked Logan Quinn. His gaze was too guarded. His words were too careful. She had the impression that he was a man who carried secrets, a
lot
of them.
Veronica took a few steps toward Jasper’s truck; then she hesitated. Her instincts were screaming at her. She looked over her shoulder at the agent. “Logan, do you know my brother?” She wasn’t going to “Mr. Quinn” him.
She caught the flicker of surprise on his face. “Yes, I do.”
Her heart iced. Suddenly, everything was making a whole lot of sense to her.
The agents’ presence in town. At least two agents from the FBI...both in little Whiskey Ridge. All of those guys in suits. The fast response to Jasper’s call.
When they’d been at the police station, Gunner had insisted on questioning her kidnappers—questioning them alone.
He hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of me.
And now Cale’s code name had been the last one listed in Reed’s deleted files.
She had to face the facts, even if those facts scared her to death. It wasn’t just a coincidence that the federal agents were in town. The agents were in Whiskey Ridge because they were hunting Cale.
She reached for Jasper’s hand, pulled him close. “W-we’ll stay out of your way. Don’t worry.” Because she and Jasper were going to hunt and
find
Cale long before the agents could.
Jasper stiffened a bit at her touch, but she just curled her arm around him more. Then she started pulling him away from that apartment that smelled of death and away from the agent with suspicious eyes.
They didn’t speak until they were inside Jasper’s truck. He turned on the engine, and his gaze flickered toward Gunner and Logan.
The agents who were staring right back at them.
“I know what you said,” she began quietly as her hands clenched in her lap. “But I
can’t
trust them.”
His gaze darted to her.
“Don’t you see what’s happening?” she demanded. “They think that my brother is a killer. They’re tracking him down because they want to
take
him down.”
“Veronica...”
“Are you working with them?” The question had to be asked. Gunner and Logan both knew Jasper. Jasper knew Cale. It would be foolish of her to ignore the coincidence. But...
I trust him.
Her heart seemed to stop as she waited for Jasper’s response.
“I’m working for
you.
” Anger roughened the words. “Until last night, I was taking a break, enjoying a little R and R in a spot on the map that I thought most folks didn’t even know about.”
A spot Cale must have told him about.
Jasper’s stare seemed to burn into her. “I’m not FBI.”
She could see the truth in his gaze.
“I swear, I’m not part of the bureau.”
Why would he lie?
“I am going to help you find Cale. The agents... I’m going to use every connection that I have to them and—”
“They’re hunting my brother.” Would he deny that?
A muscle jerked along his jaw. “They’re hunting a killer.”
Did he think Cale was that killer? Did it even matter to him?
She licked her lips. “You might know them, you might have worked with them before, but don’t trust them, either, okay?”
He put the truck into Drive and pulled away from the apartment. They passed two unmarked vans. Her body tensed at that sight. The agents were pulling in all kinds of resources on this case.
My brother didn’t kill Reed.
She had to find her brother before the agents did. Logan Quinn scared her, and she didn’t want that man hunting her brother.
Cale wasn’t the killer. She’d prove that fact
and
find her brother.
* * *
“Y
OUR
BROTHER
’
S
IN
town.” Jasper made this announcement as soon as they pulled through the gates at her ranch after a silent ride back.
He parked the truck on the side of the graveled drive and turned to face her. The better to catch her reaction.
She thinks Logan and Gunner are after her brother. But she doesn’t suspect me. Why?
Why the hell does she trust me so much?
Part of him was humbled by that trust. No one had ever had such blind faith in him before. But another part, a darker part, was angry.
He was going to betray that trust. Break it. Break her.
That’s not what I want.
She jerked free of the seat belt. “Don’t you start this. Don’t tell me that Cale is a killer!”
That hadn’t been what he intended to say, but yes, all signs sure pointed to the fact that Cale was very much a killer.
Veronica pushed open the door and hopped out of the truck.
Where was she going?
He killed the engine and followed her. “Veronica!”
It looked as if she was planning on leaving his butt and walking the rest of the way back to the ranch.
At his call, she didn’t stop walking. He ran to her, caught her arm and forced her around to face him. He was leaning over her, their faces close. Her cheeks were angry, flushed.
Damn if he didn’t want to kiss her.
She’d kissed him before. Didn’t that mean it was his turn? Turn or not...
He took her mouth.
She didn’t fight, didn’t gasp, didn’t try to pull away.
Veronica stood on her toes, shocking the hell out of him, and she kissed him back. Kissed him back with passion and fury and lust.
Enough lust to make a man ache.
His hands eased down her body, curled around the flare of her hips, and he lifted her up against his aroused flesh. She turned him on more than any other woman ever had.
With just a kiss.
He wanted her.
Naked.
Eager.
And whispering his name as pleasure flashed in her eyes.
Her tongue slid over his lip in a move so sweet and sexy that she had him growling. The woman was getting beneath his skin. Making him want, when he should be focusing on the job.
He
never
lost focus. He got the job done, no matter what. He
always
finished the mission.