Nanny (24 page)

chapter
29

A
s Gabe stepped in front of her, Summer dug into her pocket. “I've got the Taser gun.”

 Gabe opened one of the pockets on his vest and pulled out a similar unit. “We may not have much time. These things are tested on people, not dogs.”

The two animals edged forward, their growls menacing. Somewhere a man shouted, and Gabe stretched out his hand. Two visible lines of current shot through the air. The bigger dog whined, his body going rigid. But when Summer directed a blast at the other dog, he barked sharply and kept coming.

“You're losing charge.” As Gabe turned and aimed at the big head, a twig broke behind them. Suddenly the second dog dropped to the ground, his tail banging on the grass. To Summer's surprise, the boy in the torn shirt walked out of the shadows and touched Summer's arm, then pointed to the top of the wall.

Who was he, Summer wondered, and why was he here at the clinic?

When the boy leaned over, petting the big dog's head, Summer realized that his left sleeve dangled free. Just below the shoulder, his arm ended abruptly.

A rope ladder hit the ground in front of her. Gabe pushed her forward, and she clambered up the ladder, bumping her head soundly on an overhanging branch.

At the top of the wall, she turned.

The little boy was still on the ground, rolling happily with the dog. He stared up at Summer, put his finger to his mouth and smiled.

Frowning, Summer moved past Gabe and crossed over the wall.

 

Underhill emerged from the darkness even before the car. “You were supposed to be waiting for me on the other side of the clinic at two, damn it. Your man brought me here or I wouldn't have found you.”

“Change of plans.”

“That's it? I'm waiting here terrified and you change the plan?” Underhill's hair was mussed, his eyes wild. “I want answers, Walker. Did you find the safe? Did you get my disk and files out safely?”

Gabe pulled off his headset. “Get in the car.” Gabe opened the front passenger door and motioned Summer inside.

“Damn it, I need to know—”

Gabe gripped Underhill's shoulder and shoved him into the backseat while Izzy slid behind the wheel.

Gabe stared at Underhill as the car began to move. “We've got a problem.”

Underhill sat up stiffly. “Someone saw you?”

“A little boy was in the lab when we got there. He saw us.”

“Crooked teeth. One arm gone?”

Gabe nodded.

“Don't worry, that's just Felipe. He lives on the grounds.”

“What if he talks?” Gabe said. “He knows that we were in your lab.”

Underhill shrugged. “Felipe cares about nothing but animals. Since he has a way with the animals, the director lets him hang around. Don't worry about it.” Underhill sounded impatient.

“But the boy may talk,” Summer said. “He seemed . . . different somehow.”

“He can't talk, even if he wanted to. His family was taken by the police during a strike and his parents and brothers were killed. Felipe was just three, so they took his arm, then cut off his tongue. His father talked too much and to the wrong people, they said. Now the boy will never talk again,” Underhill finished flatly.

Summer turned away, feeling sick.

“A nun in the neighborhood got him decent medical care. Now he lives with her in an orphanage to the south, when he's not at the clinic helping with the lab animals. The boy is amazing. You name it, he can calm them down, even if they're twice his size.”

Summer remembered how the little boy had stared at her arm. He knew the trauma of being scarred. Was that why he had helped two strangers? Or did he simply dislike the guards?

Underhill stared into the darkness. “My car's down that street, so I'll get out here. Check the disk tonight, and you'll see it's valuable. I'll expect a wire transfer to my account within the next hour.”

“We can do that.”

“You won't be keeping your clinic appointment tomorrow, I imagine.”

“Now that we have your evidence, the sooner we get back to the States, the better.”

Underhill nodded. “Remember, I'll be watching for my wire transfer.” He took a last look at Gabe, then opened his door. “By this time tomorrow, I should be long gone, too.”

 

By the time Izzy reached the hotel's broad courtyard, their dark clothes and surveillance equipment were safely stowed in the trunk. To all appearances, they were simply three happy tourists returning from a night on the town.

“So how about it, Izzy? What was the secret distraction you engineered for us tonight?” Gabe crossed his arms. “Something high tech, no doubt.”

“Low tech, Morgan. But very high volume.” Izzy held up a tiny digital camera and triggered a movie clip on the LED screen.

Summer watched a voluptuous woman in a skintight red dress wobble up the clinic driveway in high heels and begin to remove her clothes, singing loudly. By the time she was down to her black lace underwear, six guards were crowded close, cheering her on.

“Red gets them every time,” Izzy muttered. “Must have been twenty guards in the courtyard by the time she finished.”

Summer hid a smile. “Where did you find her?”

“One of the local cantinas. She was paid very well, believe me. Once you two were out, I sent a fake police car to pick her up for drunk and disruptive conduct. And it was
very
disruptive, right when we needed it.”

Gabe shook his head. “I hate to say it, Teague, but you're the man.”

“Damned straight, Navy. Don't you forget it.” Izzy grinned as he pulled around to the back of the hotel. “Keep your powder dry, folks. I'll check back at Gabe's call, and we'll be on our way.” After a two-finger wave, he drove off.

Summer frowned as Gabe started for the nearest path. “This way will be faster,” she said.

“Don't tell me you memorized the hotel plan, too.”

“Not the whole plan,” she said defensively. “Only the important parts.” She pushed past Gabe. “If you have a problem with my work, you can—”

He caught her arm, pulling her back against a wall covered by white flowers that filled the night with fragrance. “No, I
don't
have a problem with that. For the record, I don't have a problem with anything you've done. You were as good as it gets at the clinic tonight, and I couldn't have gotten in without you.”

He was still wearing his game face, Summer realized. Pressed against him in the darkness, she listened to the noisy pounding of her heart, wondering why his opinion mattered so much to her. After all, they were just partners.

“I don't care if you—” She stopped, staring at him. “You don't have a problem with that?”

“Hell, no. Why should I have a problem relying on you when your excellent judgment saved my butt?”

“Because I'm—”
A woman,
Summer started to say. “A complete stranger. And I'm younger than you are.”

Gabe's fingers opened on her arm. “And because you're a woman?” He cursed softly. “Who did the number on you, Summer? Was it your partner or an old lover?”

His touch was too gentle, his eyes too intent. None of her lies seemed to work with him.

“Tell me,” he said grimly.

“Why does it matter?”

A man and a woman appeared, walking from a nearby building, and Gabe pulled her back behind a jasmine hedge. There in the darkness, pressed against his chest, Summer felt the heat of his body. His muscles were clenched, his hands rock steady, and she was anything but immune.

No wonder she had fantasies about waking up beside him, feeling his hard body sink into her while the covers went flying.

The couple walked closer, talking quietly. Gabe leaned in close and kissed her, hard and unyielding, almost angry. “I don't want it to matter, but it does.”

She felt the tension in his body. “We should go.” She swallowed hard. “They—they're gone now.”

But Gabe didn't move, didn't release the muscles locked against her. “Tell me, Summer. What happened to you?”

“Everything and nothing,” she said softly.
Seeing too much of the world and too little kindness there.
She tried to move away. “I don't want to talk about this.”

His hands opened over her hips. “It wasn't a lover?”

She took a sharp breath. “No.”

“I'm glad to hear it. One more thing, just for the record.” His lips brushed her forehead, her cheeks. “I want you like hell, Summer. Not just because you've got great legs, and you're smart as anyone I've ever worked with. You may as well know that scar on your arm doesn't make one bit of difference. I want you naked in my bed, being bossy and honest and unpredictable. Hell, I can't walk for thinking about it.”

Summer felt the world tip at his words.

Because of the warm air. Because of the jasmine blossoms scenting the night wind and the moonlight that peeked between racing clouds. Or so she told herself.

Not because of trusting or believing. Not even because of the raw desire that was making her breasts tighten and her heart hammer. She had given up on things like trust long ago.

She managed a light laugh. “You mean, you're in the mood for a little postgame R and R?”

Gabe didn't laugh back. He didn't even smile. “I'm asking for more than a little, and I'm in a dangerous mood, honey. The kind where I just might take it. Right now it would be damned easy for me to pin you against this wall and hammer your brains out, so don't push me.” His fingers climbed, cupping her breast. He circled her nipple, which instantly hardened.

Summer closed her eyes, feeling the nudge of his erection. She wanted to tell him to stop, but her heart was beating and the words wouldn't come.

What if she took a chance, just this once?

Summer stared at the white blossoms swaying against the wall. What were you supposed to say to a declaration like that? “If you want me, it's only because of the adrenaline,” she whispered. “It wouldn't mean a thing.”

Except to her. Summer was shocked to realize how much.

“I know that. I've done enough field time to know that the adrenaline can be a real bitch, messing you up big-time when you come down.” Gabe's voice hardened. “I don't want morning-after regrets, Summer, and I don't want to hurt you. But that's the
only
reason you've still got your clothes on.”

 

Nothing seemed to have been touched inside their room, but Gabe carried out the same thorough inspection he'd conducted upon their arrival. Satisfied that all was clear, he offered Summer first shot at the shower.

The steam made her remember the first time she'd seen him—emerging from her shower, humming an off-key Beatles song, his grin as easy and smooth as sin itself.

Irritated at the memory, Summer finished washing her hair, dried off quickly, and slipped on a white hotel robe. When she opened the door, Gabe was putting away his cell phone. “Any news?”

“Izzy's been monitoring all the radio bands, and he says they found the guard we left tied up. The man couldn't give a useful description, and he doesn't know where we went. We should be safe for a few hours while I finish up here.”

“Any mention of our lab visit?”

“All quiet. Apparently, our friend with the dog didn't alert anyone.”

“That's good news.” Summer sat down stiffly on the bed. “The shower's all yours.”

“Thanks.” Gabe picked up a towel from the desk. “Get some rest. I'm going to finish checking out Underhill's disk and file.”

“I could help you with that.”

“No need.”

Summer glanced at the sofa and saw that he'd laid out an extra blanket and pillow. Even at a distance she could see that the sofa cushions were thin and lumpy. “You're not really planning to sleep there, are you?”

“Trust me, I've slept on a whole lot worse than a lumpy sofa.”

“Well, tonight you're not. This bed is big enough for an army, and that's that. So get moving.”

“Why, Summer?” He was wearing his game face again, she realized. The man was completely controlled, absolutely unreadable.

“Because we have to be up soon to meet Izzy. And because you didn't push me when you could have. So I guess that means I . . . trust you.” She gave a crooked smile. “Coming from me, that's saying a lot.”

She lay down and looked away, afraid he would see the conflicting emotions she was trying to hold in check. She definitely didn't want to think about him standing a few feet away in the shower, naked and covered in steam.

Or stretched out beside her in the bed.

She closed her eyes and punched at her pillow. “'Night, Morgan.”

She was relieved when he muttered an answer and walked past her into the bathroom.

 

His knee hurt like Godzilla had swallowed him for breakfast.

Gabe winced as he pulled off his shirt. He'd gotten a nasty scrape when he'd dropped down that access tunnel, and now a jagged gash ran from the top of his calf up to his upper thigh. But it was the big bruise covering his knee that worried him. Whenever he turned his leg, he felt a popping sensation.

Not a good sign. After two extended knee operations, his last surgeon had warned that excessive trauma could tax the tendons beyond hope of repair. For that reason he had ordered an unusually long recovery period.

After that had come Tate Winslow's request for help.

Gabe sure as hell didn't want to end up in the hospital for more surgery, possibly even a knee replacement. On a mission in the middle of Mexico, he had no options for treatment, anyway.

Shucking the rest of his clothes, he sank into the steaming tub, trying to keep his knee straight. When the heat hit him like a wall of bliss, he groaned out loud.