Killjoy (34 page)

He nodded. He couldn’t see the driver yet because the sun bouncing off the windshield obstructed his view, but the make and model were right. It was a new, gray Honda.

“Who is it?”

He shrugged. “I told Theo I needed transportation. The police will be looking for my car, and I figured you didn’t want them to hold us until the FBI took you into custody.”

“The FBI wouldn’t do that unless they had my permission.”

He snorted. She assumed that meant he didn’t agree. “They would not trample all over my rights as a citizen.”

“Sure they would,” he said. “And they’d tell you that they were only doing what they felt was best for you.”

She wasn’t going to get into a full-blown argument about the Bureau now. Besides, deep down, she was concerned that there was a kernel of truth in what he’d said. She wasn’t willing to risk it.

“Theo drove all this way from Louisiana?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “He wanted to come, but I talked him out of it. I reminded him that he’s going to be a father and that he’s a lousy shot. If he gets himself killed, then I’ll have to become the kid’s father figure. Said I’d raise his son or daughter to be just like me.”

“And that gave him chills?”

“Yep,” he replied. “And like I said, he’s a lousy shot. He’d probably shoot himself getting his gun out of its holster.”

“And you don’t want him to get hurt. You better watch it. You’re beginning to sound nice.”

He squinted against the sunlight trying to see the driver. “Theo said he knew someone who could keep quiet and help. Who wouldn’t mind breaking some rules. Ah, hell,” he groaned when he finally saw who was behind the wheel. “Not him. That son of a . . .”

“Who?”

“Theo. My brother-in-law has a sick sense of humor.”

“John Paul, what are you talking about?”

“Theo sent
him,
” he snapped, stabbing at the air with his finger.

“Who?” she demanded. She was beginning to feel like an owl.

“Clayborne. He sent Noah Clayborne.” He spat the name out as though it left a foul taste in his mouth.

She was thoroughly confused by his attitude. “But you called Noah from the spa. I heard you on the phone. Why are you angry now?”

“Yes, I did call him, but I didn’t think I’d have to see him,” he muttered. He turned to her, gave her a quick once-over from head to toes, and barked, “Put some damn clothes on.”

She looked down at herself. Yes, there were clothes. White tennis shoes, navy shorts, white T-shirt. “What’s the matter with what I have on?”

“Too much skin showing. Ah, hell, it wouldn’t matter if you were dressed like a nun. He’s still gonna hit on you. Then I’m gonna have to shoot the bastard.” He stomped to the door, all but pulled it off the hinges when he opened it, and went out onto the porch. “Just see if I don’t.”

Oh, brother. “He’s bringing us a car.” She called out the reminder. “Stop complaining about him.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he called back. “We’ll make him stay here or take my car. He doesn’t need to go with us.”

Avery stepped back to the window. John Paul had made her curious about Theo’s friend. She knew Noah couldn’t possibly be as obnoxious as John Paul had implied. No one could be that awful.

The car stopped in front of the house, and Noah Clayborne opened the car door and emerged into the sunlight.

Avery felt like whistling. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sandy blond hair, the man was dressed casually in jeans and a gray T-shirt. He wore the old-fashioned shoulder holster and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. John Paul scowled at him, but Clayborne smiled back, as though the joke were on Renard. The man had a dimple and definitely oozed sensuality.

She wasn’t interested in him, of course, not in that way. John Paul was sexier—everything about him appealed to her—but Noah, in appearance anyway, could be a close runner-up. Of course, her analysis was strictly clinical. She had never taken the time to notice such things about a man before, or if she had, she hadn’t been able to admit it to herself. Had finally having sex again turned her mind into mush?

“I’m going to need therapy when this is over,” she whispered. “Big-time therapy.”

Straightening her shoulders, she went outside to meet him. He’d reached the steps but stopped when she walked onto the porch.

John Paul’s social graces definitely needed work. She waited a couple of seconds for him to introduce her, then realized he wasn’t going to. She would have stepped forward, but John Paul put his arm around her shoulders and jerked her close to him.

Noah’s response to the ridiculously possessive action was to widen his grin. He removed his sunglasses and looked directly at her. Blue eyes. The man had intense blue eyes. Bet he breaks a lot of hearts, she thought, as she felt John Paul tighten his hold.

Was he married? She hoped not because she could think of at least three friends to fix him up with, providing, of course, he wasn’t just a body without a mind. Margo wouldn’t be bothered by that, but Peyton, her childhood friend, would definitely want a man with a brain.

“What the hell are you staring at, Clayborne?” John Paul barked.

She put a stop to the pissing contest. She pushed his arm away and walked to the edge of the porch.

“Thank you for coming,” she began. Extending her hand, she added, “My name’s Avery Delaney.”

Noah came up the stairs and shook her hand. He didn’t let go as he introduced himself and then said, “I gotta know.”

“Yes?”

He glanced at John Paul and said, “How’d a sweet thing like you get hooked up with him?”

“She’s lucky,” John Paul snapped. “Now let go of her.”

Noah smiled at Avery and continued to hold on to her hand. He was enjoying himself by deliberately provoking John Paul. He seemed to know what buttons to push to get John Paul riled. Come to think of it, it didn’t take much.

“We appreciate your help, don’t we, John Paul?”

She had to elbow him to get him to answer. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please, come inside. Are you thirsty?” she asked as she led the way into the cabin.

“If he’s thirsty, he can get his own damned drink,” John Paul said. “You don’t have to play hostess, Avery.”

She whirled around. “Stop being a jerk,” she ordered. “I was being polite, something you know precious little about. Now stop acting like a rooster and get rid of the attitude.”

He immediately backed down. “Yeah, all right.”

Noah tried not to laugh.

John Paul looked a bit sheepish as he said to Noah, “She’s got a temper.”

“Uh-huh,” Noah drawled.

“Look, it’s not what you—”

“Yeah, it is. Never thought you’d fall. Hell, I never thought any woman would want—”

“Drop it, Noah.”

“Hey, I’m just here to do Theo a favor,” he explained. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me.” The fact was, he liked John Paul, and he respected him. Maybe even admired him a little because he’d had the guts to walk away from a job that usually broke a man.

Avery had gone into the kitchen to get a cold soda for Noah. She stopped in the kitchen doorway. The men had returned to the porch, and she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She put the bottle back in the refrigerator and decided to pack her bag.

She heard a couple of crude and colorful expletives; then she heard laughter. They’re nuts, she thought as she went into the bedroom and shut the door. The bed looked as though acrobats had practiced their act on it. She quickly stripped the sheets, put on fresh ones, and dropped the soiled linens in the hamper.

There wasn’t much to pack. She changed into her khaki pants and searched through her bag for her pink blouse. The clothes the woman at the police station had taken home to launder for her were folded neatly on the side of the duffel bag.

It was such a sweet thing to do, washing her clothes. When this was over, she would have so many people to thank for their kindness. She’d have to do something especially nice for the police chief. Letting them use his cabin was above and beyond his duty.

She went into the bathroom to collect her toiletries. Glancing in the mirror, she was startled at how tired and pale she looked. She put on a little makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes, added some blush and tinted pink lip gloss. Then she brushed her hair, gathered up her toothbrush and toothpaste, and put them in her makeup bag. She tossed John Paul’s toothbrush on top.

She was ready to go when John Paul walked into the bedroom. He shut the door, leaned against it, and looked at her.

After she’d finished zipping her bag, she stood, then nervously brushed her hands against her slacks, as though she were trying to iron any wrinkles out.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t want to leave.” He was looking at the bed when he made the comment.

“I don’t either,” she admitted.

“Come here.” His voice was low and urgent.

She didn’t hesitate. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

When at last they drew apart, there were tears in her eyes. She had never felt this kind of desperation before, and it was so wrenching, so heartbreaking she was afraid she would break down and sob.

How had she allowed herself to become so vulnerable? Love wasn’t supposed to happen this quickly, was it? Why hadn’t she protected herself? Love sucks, she decided then. All those stupid songs about how wonderful it was. All she felt was pain and fear, fear that something would happen to him. Damn it, she would not love him.

“You should go home,” she said. She stepped back, nodded, and then repeated her decision, but this time she was more forceful. “I mean it. I want you to go home.”

“Why?”

He had asked an obvious question, but she gave him an obscure answer. “You just should. I can drive myself to Florida. I don’t need you or Noah to baby-sit me.”

The more she explained, the more forceful her voice became. John Paul reacted to her outburst by simply grabbing his bag, dropping it on the bed, and then beginning to shove his clothes inside.

Noah was standing at the kitchen counter, drinking from a milk carton. He’d made himself a huge sandwich and was polishing it off as she carried her backpack to the door. John Paul was right behind her with her duffel bag and his.

“Let’s go,” he called to Noah.

“I’m right behind you.”

She followed John Paul to the car. He opened the driver’s door, popped the lid on the trunk; then, pausing to glare at her, he tossed their bags inside and slammed the trunk down.

“John Paul, I meant . . .”

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she asked.

“Don’t insult me again. I told you at least three times I was in this for the long haul. Weren’t you listening?”

She glanced at the door to make sure Noah wasn’t there, then said, “I don’t want you to get hurt. Okay? I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you . . . I don’t think I could . . .”

“I love you too, Avery.”

“It’s too soon . . . you can’t . . .”

“I do.”

“How can you love me?” she whispered.

His left hand cupped the back of her neck, and as he slowly drew her toward him, he whispered, “Want me to count the ways?”

Tears stung her eyes. He wasn’t going to be reasonable. “You’re stubborn.”

“So are you.”

“It won’t work.”

“We’ll make it work.”

“I’m a liberal,” she whispered in desperation.

He kissed her and then said, “I can live with that, but I can’t live without you. Simple as that, sugar.”

His wonderful mouth covered hers in a long, hot, thoroughly arousing kiss. He didn’t overpower her with his strength, didn’t have her chained to him. No, he was being extremely gentle as his mouth slanted over hers. She could have pulled back, but she didn’t want to. She greedily kissed him back.

He growled low in his throat, which only encouraged her to be bolder. And when at last he lifted his head, she sagged against him.

She pushed away from him when the screen door opened.

Noah walked out onto the porch, pulled the door closed, and then tossed the keys to John Paul. “You drive while I catch up on some sleep.”

He caught the keys without taking his gaze off Avery. “You’re gonna marry me.”

“No, I can’t marry you.”

“Did I ask?”

“You just said . . .”

“Did I ask?” he patiently repeated.

Noah glanced at both of them, shook his head, and then dove into the backseat. “Lover’s spat?” he asked.

“No.” They both snapped the word at the same time.

She grabbed the keys out of John Paul’s hand. “I’m driving.”

He didn’t argue with her. The dynamics between the two fascinated Noah. Who would have thought the bear would ever fall? He guessed the old saying was true. There really was someone out there for everyone. A soul mate. Wait until he told Theo about this. He wouldn’t believe it either. The bear was in love.

He couldn’t suppress his laughter. “What the hell’s so funny?” John Paul grumbled.

“You. You’re funny. Hey, Avery. Ever hear the one about the Marine . . .”

John Paul tilted his seat back and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long, long trip.

Chapter 33

T
HE PLANS KEPT CHANGING.
C
ARRIE DIDN
’
T LIKE CHANGE, ANY
kind of change, unless, of course, she was the one in charge of making those changes. Agent Hillman was point man, and Agent Bean was his gofer. Hillman’s first command when he was placed in charge of Carrie was to order Bean to tell her the decision had been made to keep her in Colorado.

After Bean informed Mrs. Salvetti of the Bureau’s decision and suffered her reaction, he returned to Agent Hillman and threatened to hand in his resignation if Hillman ever made him do that again.

“I’m putting in for combat pay,” Bean announced.

They could both hear Carrie screaming from the waiting room. “Doesn’t she realize there are sick people in this hospital?” Hillman muttered, clearly appalled by the woman’s conduct.

“She doesn’t care,” Bean countered. “She’s demanding to go to Florida and stay in the safe house with her niece.”

“I take it, then, you didn’t tell her we can’t find her niece?”

“No, sir. I thought I’d let you explain that to her.”

“For God’s sake, man. You’re an agent with the FBI. Surely you can handle a cranky woman.”

“With all due respect, sir, she isn’t just a cranky woman. She’s a . . .”

“A what?” Hillman snapped.

A she-devil, Bean wanted to say but didn’t dare. Hillman wouldn’t believe him. Besides, he would find out soon enough what the Salvetti woman was capable of when she wasn’t happy. “Sir, she isn’t what I would call a normal woman. Normal women don’t have fire shooting out of their eyes.”

Hillman was disgusted. “She’ll do whatever we tell her to do.”

Wanna bet? The ringing in his ears, he noticed, had subsided into a dull echo. “Yes, sir, I’m sure she’ll listen to you.” He said the last without breaking into a smile and was quite proud of his achievement.

“We have the woman’s best interests at heart. Surely you explained our motives to her, didn’t you, Bean?”

“She didn’t give me the opportunity to explain our position.”

“When she calms down—”

They both heard another shout. Bean grimaced as Hillman demanded, “Who’s in there with her?”

“Gorman,” he answered. “He must have told her we haven’t been able to locate her niece.”

The door to the waiting room opened and Gorman stepped out. Hillman and Bean stood at the end of the hallway and watched as Gorman hastily pulled the door closed. His face was as red as hot peppers.

Gorman spotted Hillman, drew himself up to his full six foot two height, and walked down the hall to join them.

“Is she giving you trouble too?” Hillman asked.

Bean tried not to snicker. Of course she’d given him trouble. Just look at his face.

“She’s a . . . difficult woman,” Gorman said, trying to be diplomatic. “She refuses to cooperate. Told me she’s going to Florida with or without Hill of Beans.”

“Hill of Beans?” Hillman asked.

Gorman cleared his throat. “That’s what she’s calling you and Agent Bean. Hill of Beans. She’s also demanding a beach house.”

“A beach house? She wants a beach house?” Hillman asked incredulously.

Bean cast him a smug I-told-you-so look. Now, perhaps, his superior would agree that the Salvetti woman was as difficult as he’d told him she was.

“And what did you say to her demands?”

“I told her that wasn’t possible, that since her testimony isn’t mandatory, she’ll be staying in Colorado. I explained the defense attorney has the transcripts of Skarrett’s first trial and he hasn’t asked to depose Mrs. Salvetti again and that, for that reason, there wasn’t any need for her to go to Florida.”

“And her response?” Bean asked.

“She tried to grab my gun.”

“I’m sure she was bluffing,” Hillman said. “Let’s give her a few minutes to cool off,” he suggested.

It was going to take Carrie more than a few minutes to calm her temper. Blowing up was her response to the fear gnawing at her stomach. What the hell was Avery going to do? Did she think she could stroll into that courthouse and testify against Skarrett? Carrie kept picturing her niece being gunned down on the courthouse steps.

If Monk . . . or Jilly . . . got hold of her . . . Carrie rushed to the phone, got an outside line, and called Tony collect. She prayed he hadn’t already left for the airport.

He must have been sitting by the phone, because he picked up on the first ring.

Carrie didn’t waste time on preliminaries. “They’re going to put me in a house and keep me here, in Colorado,” she blurted.

“Where in Colorado?” he asked.

“They wouldn’t tell me, but I heard one of them talking on his cell phone. He didn’t know I was listening, and he mentioned a place called Wedgewood. It must be some kind of suburb.”

“Aspen’s too small to have suburbs,” he countered.

“I don’t know where the hell it is. Look it up on the Internet, for God’s sake. Use your head. There can’t be more than one Wedgewood suburb in Colorado.” She burst into tears. “If I have to be in a safe house for a long time, what will happen to my company? I can’t be away too long. I can’t . . .”

“Honey, I can handle things here. I’ve run a company before.”

“But I need you with me, Tony. You have to come.”

“All right, I will,” he promised. “I won’t let you go through this alone. Do you want me to come to the hospital? Can they wait to move you until I get there?”

“I’ll make them wait,” she said. “Sara has already been moved into the new physical therapy wing. It hasn’t even been opened yet, so security’s easy. I’ll stay there with her until they move both of us. I won’t let them take me anywhere until you get here.”

“Yes, okay,” he said, sounding relieved.

“Do you know they can’t find Avery? When she called me, she told me she wouldn’t be joining me in protective custody. Have you talked to her?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been pacing by the phone, waiting. It’s not like Avery to make me worry. I don’t understand why she hasn’t called.”

“She knows you’ll give her hell for upsetting me,” Carrie said. “She doesn’t like to disappoint either one of us.”

“I know, honey, but I’m worried sick about her.”

“Me too. She’ll call, and when she does, you tell her not to go to Sheldon Beach. Make her realize how dangerous it will be for her.”

“Yes, I will,” he promised. “I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

“What if Avery calls after you’ve left for the airport?”

“Honey, she knows my cell phone number.”

Of course Avery did. Carrie was so rattled she couldn’t think. “I’ll see you soon.”

Carrie hung up the phone and decided to call Avery’s office to find out if her friends had heard from her, but she was prevented from making any more calls when Agent Hillman walked into the room and told her that Judge Collins wanted to talk to her.

“We’ll be moving you into the new wing in a few minutes.”

“Yes, all right. Whatever you say.”

Hillman was surprised and pleased by her cooperation. He was feeling a bit smug too, for he’d been right. He’d told Bean and Gorman that once Mrs. Salvetti calmed down, she would cooperate, and she was doing exactly that now.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad assignment after all.