Relentless. Jo Leigh
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“I’m not leaving until I get what I want. I’m going to be on you twenty-four-seven. And to make things even more interesting, I’m going to let the press know what I’m doing. You hear me? If you think you’re afraid now, just wait.”
Vince watched her face grow pale, her eyes widen with his threats. She’d seen everything, all right. He’d wager his life on it. And he wasn’t about to let her walk away without testifying.
“That’s illegal. It’s harassment.”
“Sue me.”
“Don’t you even care that you’ll be wasting your time on me when you could be looking for the killers?”
“We’ve got a whole department of cops doing just that. My only assignment is you.”
She turned from him and walked over to the bed, but she didn’t sit. He knew she was trying to figure a way out of this, to make him leave. Not that she had a prayer.
He relaxed, debated taking off his coat, but didn’t. Instead he studied her.
The cameras in the garage hadn’t done her justice. She was a beautiful woman, classy, strong. Her long, dark hair was shiny and as smooth as her skin. She wore no makeup, at least as far as he could tell, but it didn’t make a difference. With those dark eyes, that long, lean body, she could have had any man in the blink of an eye. So why didn’t she? She carried herself like someone with money. It didn’t track that she was working for room service.
Clearly, she was hiding. From what, he didn’t know, but he’d find out.
She moved again, lifting her head, straightening her shoulders. “I would help you if I could, but I can’t. If you let the press know about me, I’ll be as dead as your friend, whether the killers think I can ID them or not.”
He held himself still, not wanting to spook her. “Why?”
“Someone’s after me. A stalker.”
“Let me help.”
She frowned. “Yeah, right. And your success rate in finding and convicting stalkers is what?”
“Pretty damn good.”
“Now, who’s lying?”
“Just tell me what I want to know, then you can play hide-and-seek all you want.”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I have nothing to tell you. Nothing, you hear me? I hid. I heard gunshots. Running. By the time I looked up, your friend was dead and I was alone with him in the room. Okay? There isn’t anything more.”
Vince shook his head. “Sorry. It was a good try, but I’m not buying it.”
“Buying what?”
“You know more than you’re telling me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know how long I’ve been doing this? You know how many people have lied to me?”
“This time you’re wrong.”
He looked at her. Through her. “I’ve been wrong about a lot of things. But not this. Seriously. I have nothing else on the docket. Just you, until you tell me the truth.”
“If you enjoy wasting your time, be my guest. But you can’t do it sitting in my room.” She walked over to the door and opened it, her lips tight, her posture more closed off now than when he’d first arrived.
“You bet. I’ll leave, but I won’t be far. You can count on that. No matter where you go, there I’ll be.”
She said nothing. She didn’t even watch him as he passed her. Her gaze was somewhere else, perhaps with the stalker she said was after her, perhaps on the vision of Tim on the bloody carpet. It didn’t matter. Not a bit.
The second he’d cleared the door, it was closed, not slammed, behind him. He got out his cell phone as he headed for his car.
Surveillance wasn’t terribly effective without sufficient manpower. He wasn’t fool enough to believe he could cover her without getting sloppy. He dialed Jeff.
“Detective Stoller.”
“Hey, I’ve got an interesting challenge for you, buddy.”
Jeff’s groan was all too familiar. Vince didn’t pay any attention to it as he detailed what he needed Jeff to do. Kate Rydell was now a material witness. Since Vince was on suspension, Jeff would have to do the paperwork and get the manpower.
In the meantime, Vince would get comfortable in his car. He wasn’t sure when Kate would make her move, only that she would attempt to flee.
He was also going to look into her background. He’d soon find out if there was any truth to the stalker business or if Ms. Rydell was hiding something even worse.
ALTHOUGH THEY ADVERTISED Never Empty, Never Closed, there were few customers at The Pantry coffee shop. Nate scanned the tables, his gaze finally settling on an occupied booth near the far window. He walked across the diner and sat down across from his old friend. “Seth,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, brother.” The two men ordered coffee when the elderly waitress asked if they wanted some and spread the menus in front of them.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with the glasses,” Nate said.
Seth shrugged off his stained leather jacket, revealing a plain black T-shirt. “Good. Let’s hope no one else does.”
Nate smiled wryly. They seldom saw each other, wisely keeping their distance in case one of them went down. “You have everything, I trust.”
Seth nodded, his gaze on the menu. “I have about eight bucks. What about you?”
“Enough for a decent breakfast. Let’s splurge.” There’d been a time when Nate had never had to think about money. He’d always had plenty to spend on women and booze. Not from his work in Delta Force, but from a little locking device he’d come up with just after college. It didn’t look like much, but he’d sold the Army on the usefulness of the lock on weaponry in the field, and they’d bought the patent. The money was to be his nest egg, his safety net in case he got hurt. But it was all gone now. He’d spent a bloody fortune on Harper’s basement trauma room and Tam’s lab and equipment.
The waitress came back and they both ordered the bacon and egg breakfast. When they were alone again, Seth pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and wordlessly handed it across the table.
Nate glanced around, then flipped through the contents. Driver’s license, Social Security card, birth certificate. He held the driver’s license where the streetlight shone on it. “Damn. Your guy does fine work.”
“Computer nerd at Cal Tech. He did these, too.” He put two photo IDs on the table.
Nate stuffed Kate’s documents back in the envelope and picked up one of the identification cards. “Midtown Electric,” he read. “Damn. Where’d you get this picture?”
“Department of Defense,” Seth said.
“I must’ve been in high school.” He peered closer. “Frank Foley?”
“George Hale.” Seth pushed the glasses all the way up the bridge of his nose. “Pleased to meet you.” He clipped the ID on the neck of his T-shirt.
The waitress arrived with their food, and Nate quickly secured Kate’s documents and then clipped his ID onto his flannel shirt. After dinner, they’d do one more recon on one of the offices of Omicron. While it looked like a normal building, filled with consultants and secretaries, Nate had learned that it was actually an operations center for the rogue CIA unit. Most of their operatives had either been fired from the CIA or were professional mercenaries. They worked in secret, and while Nate had discovered several maneuvers