Relentless. Jan Hambright
“If you grab a bag, I’ll take you to your friend’s house. I want to make sure you’re not followed.”
“You don’t have to coddle me.” She took the steps slowly. “I’m not helpless.”
“I’m painfully aware of that, but you are the focus of my investigation and it got personal today.” He was right behind her.
Turning on him, she prepared to reason herself into her own bed, but his features were hardened with determination.
“Don’t even, Kate. Never mind that you can take care of yourself. I need to get some sleep tonight and if that means you stay somewhere safe, then so be it. Would you rather I slept on your couch?”
A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his green eyes and she tensed as anticipation hatched in her mind and flowed into her bloodstream. “I’ll get my bag.” A night with Officer Jacoby a short distance away was more than she wanted to deal with right now.
She pushed her key into the lock. The door gave against the pressure and creaked open.
“Mick…” Terror sizzled through her veins.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The door’s been jimmied.” The sound of gunmetal against leather alarmed her, as he slid his pistol from its holster.
Was someone inside? Waiting?
Mick reached for Kate and pulled her behind him, taking her place on the step above. He stayed to the left and pushed the door all the way open.
In the back of the house he saw movement. For a brief second a human silhouette appeared in the hall and disappeared into another room.
“New Orleans police. Come out with your hands up.” He reached inside and flipped the living-room light on.
The once-cozy place was trashed. The sofa and chairs had been sliced to ribbons. Pictures lay on the floor with the glass smashed out. Chaos reigned.
“Go to my car.” The house was as still as death, but he’d seen the room the suspect was hiding in. “Lock the doors and stay down.”
“Okay.” She shuffled off the steps behind him and a measure of relief invaded his body. The perpetrator would have to go through him first.
“Come out. No one has to get hurt.” Mick crept into the entryway and scanned the dining room and kitchen. All clear.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the kitchen wall, then the distinct snap of a window latch clicked.
He hugged the wall. Gun ready. His heart pounded in his ears as he slipped down the corridor and paused outside the room. “This is your last chance. Give it up.” The sound of the window being opened reached his ears. In an instant the suspect would be gone. Movement at the front door caught his eye and his heart slammed into his ribs.
Kate stood in the doorway, her eyes filled with terror.
A knife, inches from her throat.
Chapter Four
A split-second decision solidified. He darted into the dark room, grabbed the man who was halfway out the window and locked him in a choke hold.
“I don’t have anything, man.”
Mick patted him down and shoved him toward the doorway with his gun aimed at his temple. “Why are you here?”
“Let me go. You can’t do this.”
“Wanna bet.” He squeezed until he heard his prisoner gasp for air. “What are you after?”
Pushing him into the hall, he sucked in a breath and froze in place.
The suspect had a counterpart, and he had Kate.
His brain fired in rapid succession as he formed a plan. He forced the thug into the livingroom.
“Looks like a standoff.” Focused on Kate, he willed her to be calm. “How about a trade? You let her go, and I’ll turn over your friend.”
A navy-blue ski mask covered the man’s face, but Mick pulled in every available detail about him. The man’s hand trembled; his breath was labored with excitement. He lacked the smoothness of a career criminal. That fact alone made him more dangerous. Mick tensed and moved closer.
“We’ll swap and you can disappear, but if you hurt her I’ll put a bullet through your head.”
The assailant looked around, wide-eyed. “Let’s do it.”
Mick moved him to the front door, careful to leave enough room for them to escape. “On three.”
He nodded his head.
“One…two…three.” Mick released the punk at the same time the assailant let go of Kate. He lunged for her as the two masked men bolted out the door.
In one swoop he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the doorway. His pulse thundered in his ears and he held her next to him. Outside a car engine fired. Tires squealed on pavement and the men vanished into the night.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty stirred up, but I’m alive.”
She was alive, nestled against him. He pulled in a breath and caught the whisper-sweet scent of her hair.
“That was risky.”
He held her back and stared into her upturned face. Kissing her came to mind, but he reined in the thought. “There’s always a risk where a hostage is concerned. I wagered he wanted his accomplice more than he wanted you or a bullet in his head.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. The gesture sent sparks through him.
Stepping back, he pulled her hand away. “Just doing my job.” He’d come too close to kissing her. Too close to crossing the line. “I’ll check the bedrooms and call in forensics.” He stepped away, moved down the hall and swept the rooms before returning to the living room, where Kate had positioned herself on the remains of an upholstered chair.
“It’s all clear.”
“Would you look at what they did?” She let out a small moan and scooped up a picture of herself and Cody, setting it carefully back on the shelf where it belonged. “I’d offer you the couch, if I had one.”
“Don’t touch anything.” Mick eyed what was left—a pile of fabric and stuffing. “You’re coming with me. This is no coincidence. The MO looks identical to the job on the Beamer. They could come back. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
“This scares me. What if Cody had been here with a sitter?”
He watched her very own words force the color from her face. She stood up.
“Don’t get riled up, Kate. They were looking for something. We just have to figure out what.”
She paced back and forth in the small room, making him nervous. “I don’t have anything. No jewelry.” She looked around the room. “My stereo equipment is still here.”
“Don’t try to guess what motivated them. Did you see anything that could help?”
“They were driving the black car I saw this morning.”
MICK STOOD IN THE HALLWAY. The first rays of dawn were pushing between the slats of the blinds, reminding him morning was here. The moment stalled in time as he watched Kate, asleep on his sofa.
Every safe house in New Orleans had been full last night, so he’d brought her home. He smoothed his hands over his head. He’d offered her the bed, but she’d refused. Why did she have to look so damn beautiful, snuggled against the white pillowcase, her mass of dark hair tousled around her face? Beautiful, yes. But innocent?
He ground his teeth together. He