Allegiances. Cynthia Eden
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me,” Celia said, her mind spinning, “then how’d he wind up dead?”
Sullivan just stared back at her, and she could almost hear his suspicions.
“It wasn’t me,” she snapped. “I didn’t kill him.”
“Celia—”
“But why would you believe me, right?” She turned away. “Forget it. I’ll call Mac. He can take me to the body. You just stay here.”
“You don’t need my brother’s help. You have me.”
She glanced back at him. No, I don’t.
“And I never said I thought you’d killed anyone. But you haven’t told me why the man was gunning for you.”
I don’t know why. I just know that he’s been coming after me. My home wasn’t safe, so I had to run, fast. And I ran to you.
A move that had been a serious mistake.
“I’m trying to figure all this out,” Sullivan said. “Maybe the dead man was just the flunky doing the dirty work and someone else is out there pulling the strings.”
Her lips pressed together. She had the same suspicion that he did. Maybe the guy’s boss had gotten fed up with his failure.
“Perhaps his employer didn’t like to hear that you’d slipped away.” Sullivan was dressing now, yanking on jeans and a T-shirt. “Maybe that made him so angry that he decided to take out that frustration on someone.”
And he’d killed a man? Unfortunately, she knew just how often events like this occurred. That knowledge was one of the reasons she was ready to escape the dark world she’d lived in for so long.
A woman could only handle so much death and despair before they started to choke the life from her.
* * *
HE’D CALLED THE authorities and anonymously left a tip about the body’s location. If he hadn’t, it would have been dawn before Porter’s body was discovered. He hadn’t wanted to waste that much time.
Celia James was off the grid. He needed to get her back in the game ASAP. And a dead body pretty much dropped at her ex-lover’s business? That should snag her attention.
Especially since I think Sullivan is helping Celia once more.
But it wasn’t Sullivan McGuire who raced to the scene when the blue lights first appeared on Austin Street. It was Sullivan’s older brother, Mac. A foe just as dangerous.
From the shadows, he watched as Mac talked with the cops, acting as if he was old friends with them. Probably because he was. The McGuires had gotten in deep with the cops while trying to unmask their parents’ killers.
And you still haven’t found them, have you?
He smiled at that thought. What would you do, Mac, if you knew I was right there when your parents were shot? I’m across the street from you right now. So close, and you haven’t got a clue...
And Sullivan...blind Sullivan...he’d been in the same room with the guy before. He’d worked missions with Sullivan, and the guy had been completely in the dark.
Porter’s body was being loaded up now. He’d been zipped up and was being placed in a van for transport to the coroner’s office. Mac headed back to his car, seemingly leaving the scene.
This can’t be it.
The guy wasn’t just going to walk away. But...wait, Mac had called someone before. He’d seen him place the call. Had Mac phoned Sullivan?
And when the medical examiner’s van pulled away from the scene, he saw Mac leave in his vehicle and tail that van.
Ah...going after the body. That made sense. Mac would try to ID the fellow. And as the watcher shifted position, he realized, I bet Sullivan will go after the body, too.
His plan was working. He just needed to trail behind, carefully, and see what happened next. Celia would show herself soon enough, and then she’d be the one loaded into the back of the medical examiner’s van.
* * *
THE MEDICAL EXAMINER’S office was cold. Icy. From the corner of his eye, Sullivan saw Celia shiver. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he doubted she’d appreciate that gesture, so...he shrugged out of his coat and put it around her shoulders.
She glanced over at him, her eyebrows shooting up.
“You were cold,” he said simply.
Her fingers caught the coat. “Thank you.”
He offered her a smile. “I brought you to a morgue, C. It’s not like I took you out on some fancy date. I should—”
“We’ve never gone on a fancy date.”
Her words gave him pause. Then he realized...hell, she was right. They’d worked missions. They’d ridden out hard and desperate adrenaline highs together. They’d shared passionate nights that were permanently singed in his memory.
But I never took the woman out on a real date?
He would never dig himself out of the hole he’d dug. “I’m sorry,” Sullivan said gruffly. “If I could go back in time, there are about a million things I’d do differently with you.”
Her gaze cut away from him.
“Celia...about our marriage...” It was definitely past time he cleared up a few issues there. “You need to know why I proposed.”
She laughed. The bitter laugh. The not Celia laugh. “You were drunk. We’d both worked too many cases. We were both—”
“You said you loved me.”
“No.” Her voice was hard. Cold.
And something inside him died. She didn’t love me? She—
“We are not doing this here. We are not talking about our past, about my feelings for you, in a morgue! It’s dark, you snuck me in here like we were robbers, and the place smells. This isn’t where we have that conversation, got it?”
He cleared his throat. “I, um, got it.” But his lips were quirking. How had he forgotten her wonderful bite? Damn, but he could fall for her again so easily.
The doors to the morgue swung open. A gurney was pushed inside by a whistling man who seemed totally oblivious of their presence.
Sullivan had a quick déjà vu moment. He’d flipped on his own lights and found Celia just waiting for him.
But then the man pushing the gurney glanced over at them and offered a broad smile, and Sullivan realized this wasn’t some county employee.
“What in the hell?” Sullivan demanded. “Mac?”
His brother shrugged. “Figured you’d be waiting inside. I told the ME to take a little break.” He pushed the gurney forward and paused to pull on a pair of gloves. “We are so screwing with the chain of evidence here, so don’t touch him, okay? Just look at the body, nothing more.”
The chain of evidence? Yeah, they were messing with it, all right. Because they weren’t supposed to be there, but...when Mac lowered the zipper and Celia gave a sharp, indrawn breath, Sullivan knew that his instincts had been dead-on.
“You recognize him,” Sullivan said.
“Hi, Celia,” Mac murmured. “Good to see you again...”
She inched closer to the body, but she made no move to touch the dead man. “His hair should be blond, not black. But yes, yes, I know him.” She looked up at Sullivan. “I trained him, right after you left. He was my next assignment.”
Because Celia was a handler. She brought in the new agents. Trained them. Guided them.
“Porter Vance,” she said softly. “He can’t