Around-the-Clock Protector (11 page)

She was vulnerable right now. The memory of seeing Hinshaw die had upset her and driven her into his arms. He’d be a jerk to take advantage of her in her current state.

He let his hands drop from her face and stood up,
taking the chair across from her at the dining-room table. Disappointment flooded his body as the moment passed.

“How would you feel about a road trip?”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind or grown two heads. “Jerome Hinshaw?”

“Yeah. If we can get into his dorm room, or talk to some of his research buddies, maybe we can discover exactly what he was working on when he disappeared.”

“Leverage?”

He liked the way her mind worked. “That’s about all we can hope for, sweetheart. Maybe we can use it to secure your safety.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He grinned, glad when she smiled back at him, but they were about to play a very dangerous game. The stakes? Possibly their lives.

“I’ve got to make a phone call.” He pulled his cell off his belt and wandered into the kitchen before punching in Dr. Resnick’s number.

Ava’s breakthrough couldn’t be ignored.

A mechanical answering-machine voice came over the handset. He waited for the message to end. The beep came shortly after.

“Doc. Ava had a breakthrough. She remembered a murder in the backseat of a limo, a man named Jerome Hinshaw. We’re headed for Cambridge, Massachusetts, to see what we can find out about him.

“Give me a call. I need to know if there’s anything else I can do to help her recall who else was in the car that morning.”

“Take a right on Western Avenue.” Ava rechecked the map in her hand before looking up, searching for the road sign. “There.”

“Got it.” Carson turned onto the tree-lined street that would take them to the MIT campus. It was a long shot, but it was the only one they had that didn’t include a team of pistol-packing agents, determined to kill them and carve into Ava on sight.

“We’re looking for the Pacific Street dormitory.” He watched her stare at the map and look up again as they passed several streets.

“Take Massachusetts Avenue.”

Signaling, he turned left, slowing for a student on a bike.

“It’s summer, you know.” She gave him a sideways glance.

“I know, but the summer session is in and there’s a chance we can get into his dorm room. Maybe talk
to his roommate. Or better yet, have a look at his computer files.”

“That’s too many maybes for me. Have we driven 450 miles for nothing?” She gave him an exasperated look and shook her head.

“I phoned ahead, sweetheart.”

She smiled and turned away.

An odd sensation settled in his chest. The trip had taken some of the fear out of her. Putting four hundred-plus miles between them and the CIA was just what Ava needed.

Ava continued giving him directions, and in a few minutes they were pulling to a stop in the dorm parking lot.

“Have you got your ID?”

“Yeah.” She pulled it out of her pocket and flipped it open, staring at the name again. “FBI agent Mary Walker.” She plastered a serious look on her face and turned to him, repeating the name and title several times.

Carson stifled a chuckle as he listened to her voice rise and fall with the official declaration.

“Convincing?” she asked.

He stared at her perfect lips for a second too long before answering. “It’ll do, but I don’t anticipate much resistance. We’ll either get the information or we won’t.”

“Okay, Agent…?”

“Daniels,” he said as he climbed out of the car and shut the door. “Mike Daniels.”

“Got it.”

They headed for the main entrance of the dormitory and pushed through the double glass doors and into the foyer.

The corridors in both directions were empty, but Carson spotted a janitor’s cart near a maintenance closet at the end of the hall on the left. “Come on.”

He moved along the wide hallway carpeted in gray, with Ava next to him. He watched a man in his early fifties come out of a janitor’s closet and stack a handful of rags on his cart.

“Excuse me, sir.” He stopped and pulled his badge and photo ID out of his jacket pocket. “I’m FBI Special Agent Mike Daniels and this is my partner Agent Mary Walker.”

The janitor gazed at the photo ID and back up at Carson.

“We’re here to have a look at Jerome Hinshaw’s dorm room. The investigation into his disappearance has hit a wall, and we’re hoping to get things moving again. Can you tell me where room 236 is?”

“Second floor. Up the stairs and take a right. Last room on the left.”

The man turned back to his job, but paused for an instant. “Hinshaw was a nice kid, real nice kid. Smart. Year-round student.”

“Is his roommate here?”

“Not sure. Most of the summer students have taken off for the fourth of July holiday.”

“Thanks.”

The janitor nodded and moved back into the closet.

Carson walked toward the stairway with his fingers mentally crossed and Ava right next to him. With any luck they’d get some information from the roommate. They needed to know what Hinshaw had been working on before he died.

“Here it is. Number 236. The local cops were probably all over this place after he disappeared.” Carson raised his hand to knock, but the door opened on its own at that moment and he found himself staring at a punk kid with long shaggy hair and glasses, holding a duffel bag in his hand.

“Charles Preston?”

He tilted his head back and stared at both of them, drawing his lips into a tight line. “Cops?”

“FBI. I’m Agent Daniels, this is Agent Walker. We’d like a minute of your time.”

“Can’t.” He attempted to step out into the hall, but Carson blocked his exit. He didn’t want to play bully, but there was too much riding on the answers stashed inside the college kid’s head, and he didn’t plan on leaving without them.

“Look, Charles. The leads on your buddy’s disappearance have dried up like the Sahara. We just need
a few minutes to try and snag some leads, then you’re out of here.”

Charles Preston took a step back and opened the door wide.

Carson felt relief as he stepped into the dorm room behind Charles.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t cops…I mean, local cops. I hate those pushy pigs.”

Charles dropped his duffel bag onto one of the two beds in the room and turned around, placing his hands on his hips in a gesture of protest. “They came in here right after Jerome went missing and tore the place apart. Took his computer, his writings and anything else the hell they thought they could. They even took some of my things. I tried to stop them, but they threatened to arrest me.”

Carson tried to gauge the young man’s state of mind as he studied him in the shallow lighting of the overly tidy room that should have been littered with smelly socks and fast-food wrappers. An angle of persuasion solidified in his mind.

“Those local boys were out of line. They had no right to invade your space and not return your things after they processed the scene.”

Charles Preston began to nod his head. “I’m glad you’re following me, Agent Daniels. Maybe you can talk to them. Make them give my stuff back.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I’m going to need some help from you, as well.”

Charles nodded. Their conspiratorial link had been firmly established, judging by the tight smile that pulled at his mouth. “They didn’t get everything.”

A thread of hope ran through Carson. He studied Charles. “Good. You got the jump on them.”

“I borrowed Jerome’s travel drive the day before he disappeared, and I forgot to give it back. I left it in the biology lab by accident. Good thing, because when I got back here they were ripping the place apart.”

Carson picked his words carefully. Charles was becoming more agitated the more he discussed the injustice he felt had been perpetrated by the local police. It was time to reel him in.

“I’m sorry, man. If you let me have the information on the travel drive, I’ll make sure they come out of this looking like a bunch of hooligans.”

Charles was already moving to a desk in the corner, where he pulled open the top drawer and took out a flash drive attached to a neck strap. “Take it. I don’t want it back. I just want my stuff.”

“You got it.” Carson reached out and didn’t relax until he clutched the memory stick in his hand. “Thanks, Charles.”

“I gotta go. My plane leaves in an hour and my folks are waiting for me.”

“I understand.” Carson gave Ava a nod toward the door and followed her out into the hallway.

Charles Preston closed the door and shuffled down the corridor without another word.

Ava dared to take a breath. She wasn’t very good at deception, she decided as she followed Carson down the hall, down the stairs and out into the fading afternoon sun. The change in lighting caused her to shield her eyes as she waited for them to adjust.

Carson moved along the sidewalk in front of her, silhouetted against the dropping sun.

Her heart rate picked up as she stared at him, dressed in a suit and tie. The image made a shred of memory pop into her head, a snippet of recall that left her hopeful. She’d seen him dressed like this before. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.

“When we worked detail together you wore that suit.”

He pulled up short. “Yeah. Did you remember something?”

“It’s more like déjà vu.”

“It’s a start.” He touched her hand for an instant, sending a surge of heat up her arm.

Carson walked toward the car, feeling a measure of satisfaction. With any luck they’d have their first real lead when he uploaded the information to his team.

The last of the sun had slipped away and evening was settling over the campus.

He watched Ava move around to the passenger door and his blood warmed. He studied the set of her shoulders, the calmness in her face. She was relaxed for the first time since he’d secured her from the cabin two and a half days ago. Anticipation crawled along his nerves.

It was too late to drive back to McLean. They needed to secure another vehicle before morning, when the car they were driving would be reported stolen.

“You did great in there,” he said.

She looked up over the roof of the car. “I hope so. Jerome Hinshaw was a smart kid. He had his whole life in front of him. It’s too bad he’s dead.”

A glimpse of sorrow passed over her features. She popped the door latch. “Are we driving back tonight?”

“No. I thought we’d get some dinner and a room, then see what kind of fireworks display Cambridge has to offer.”

A smile spread on her lips, lips he wanted in the worst way to kiss.

“I like it. I’m feeling pretty exhausted…and hungry.”

“Come on. Let’s get out of here and take care of your needs. Red meat?”

She grinned and climbed into the car. “Oh, yeah. Maybe we’re having a future NFL star who’s working on muscle mass in utero.”

Carson’s heart rate picked up as her joke echoed
inside his brain, driving home in concrete terms the fact that she carried his child. “How do you know he’s not a she, planning to become a ballerina?”

She gazed over at him, an odd look of worry on her face that pulled her brows together. “I don’t. I just want to get him or her into the world. Safe and healthy.”

His stomach knotted as he reached over and cupped her cheek, feeling heat course through him where they made contact. A mix of desire and frustration ignited every nerve in his body, making him tense all over.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect you both.”

“I believe you,” she whispered, dropping her gaze.

Had he seen trust in her eyes for a brief second? Or was it simple gratitude? He wasn’t sure. He only knew that when his child came into the world, he needed to be there in spite of what might be hiding in his DNA.

A
VA WATCHED
Carson pull back the drape a fraction and look out the motel window into the parking lot below. It was the third time in ten minutes, and it was starting to unravel the hours of stressless existence she’d enjoyed since dinner and the glitzy fireworks display they’d watched light up the skies over Cambridge.

“Still nothing?” she asked, amused when he pulled back from the window and glared at her a moment before plopping into a chair and grabbing a newspaper off the small round table in front of the window.

“It’s a damn good thing.” He stared at her over the top of the newsprint before slapping it back on the table and standing up again.

“What’s wrong?” She pushed herself up off the bed, where she’d been lying on her side with her head propped on her hand. “If it’ll make you feel better, let’s go. I wouldn’t mind driving. Besides, you’re like a tiger in a cage right now. Why don’t you try to relax?”

He stopped long enough to study her before he turned back to the window and reached for the drape again, only to stop himself before he took another look.

“Something’s bothering me,” he said, moving toward her. He took a seat on the bed across from hers. “How is it that you can recall seeing Jerome Hinshaw in the back of the limo, but no one else?”

“I don’t know. It was darkish. But you’re right. I should’ve been able to see the others in the car.”

“Unless…” He leaned toward her. “Unless they knew you’d be able to identify them. That’s why a chunk of your memory was altered. They used you as a mule with the intention of having you transport the chip to Russia, where someone on the other end would have removed it from your back, possibly without you even knowing what had transpired stateside.”

“That’s a scary thought. A mind snatcher. Who inside the CIA has talent like that?”

Carson considered her question. Dr. Resnick had that kind of training and talent. In fact, he’d spearheaded the agency’s research into mind and thought alteration, but he’d retired six years ago and moved to Seattle. There had to be someone on this end who’d messed with Ava before she got on the airplane. More than likely it had happened in the back of the limo.

“Give it a rest. Get some sleep. This will all still be here in the morning.” She stood up and moved in next to him.

Her proximity raised the heat in his blood. “You’re right. How’s the ankle?”

She sat down next to him and raised her pant leg up past her knee before she put her foot up on the opposite bed. “Good. The swelling is down and I can walk on it without pain. I think I’ll take off the bandage for a while.”

He stared at her slender calf as she looped the Ace wrap around and around until her leg was bare.

Carson clamped his teeth together, fighting a wave of lust so intense it almost made him groan.

He stood up. The temperature in his blood rose higher. He wanted her with an intensity that threatened to consume him in a blaze he couldn’t extinguish.

“What is it?” She jumped to her feet next to him. He could hear the worry in her voice, feel the tension build in the air around them.

“It’s nothing…I just need to move.”

Her hand on his arm sent a jolt of electricity into his body. He turned to her, still fighting his need, but losing the battle.

Ava stared at Carson, lost in a moment that seemed to tie them together in an inescapable knot. She was aware of her hand on his arm, of the feel of his skin under her fingertips.

Heat flooded her face and burned into her cheeks, marking her embarrassment, but she couldn’t look away.

She memorized every detail—his blue eyes, straight nose, square jaw—until her gaze settled on his mouth.

In a rush of powerful emotion she leaned into him, grateful when he didn’t resist.

Did he feel it, too? Was his desire as overwhelming as hers?

The answer came as he reached for her chin and tilted her face up.