Chapter 24
Jordan had borrowed a brand-new, still-in-the-wrapper shirt from Alex.
It was a pastel pink, and the other man said it had been a gift from his mother-in-law, but that pink wasn’t really his color.
Jordan wasn’t sure it was his either, but clothes were the last thing he gave a damn about.
The black suit, the dress shoes, and leather belt were borrowed from Steve McKenzie by way of his fiancée, Tess, who’d dropped them off at Alex’s apartment building.
Jenna Stork popped to her feet from one of the plush emerald sofas in the lobby, wearing a strapless plum-colored sheath dress that stopped just above her knees. “Hey.”
He stood back and let his basic appreciation for a beautiful woman take the lead. She had great legs, something he’d never noticed when they’d worked together.
“You look amazing.” He looked down at himself. “Now I feel underdressed.”
“Oh, you look great. I splurged a little.” She took his hand and leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. Then spent a moment wiping her lipstick from his face while he concentrated on not letting his skin crawl.
“You have fun shopping?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Absolutely.” She lifted one foot to show him mile-high stilettos. “Christian Louboutin says ‘Hi.’”
He pulled a face. “I have no idea who that is.”
She raised her face to the ceiling and gave a tinkling laugh as if he was just too amusing. “Doesn’t matter.”
The heels put them at eye-level. For some reason it made him think about Daisy who only reached his chin, even in heels.
“Where would you like to eat?” He stared into Jenna’s hazel-brown eyes and wondered if there was room for a gun or some other weapon in her tiny purse.
“I have a friend who can get us into The Dabney if you’d like?
” Alex had connections everywhere. He looked down at her heels with a frown.
“We can grab a cab if you don’t want to walk. ”
“Oh, The Dabney sounds lovely, but,” she pouted, “I took a chance and made a reservation here. I hear the chef is excellent.” She ran her hand slowly down his chest, and he wondered how far she’d go to get what she wanted. “Afterwards, we could have dessert in my room.”
All the way.
All the damned way.
Alex searched her room as they spoke. Jenna hadn’t met with anyone after they’d talked earlier, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t communicated with someone.
He didn’t drop her gaze even though he’d rather make kissy faces with a venomous snake. “That sounds like fun. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
He cupped her elbow and escorted her into the restaurant, settled her into her chair before sitting opposite.
The server bought them water and menus, and they ordered a bottle of Grenache from C?tes du Rh?ne to share.
“How was work this afternoon?”
“I was in meetings for most of the day, so…frustrating.”
“You said it was a case I might be interested in—”
“Yeah,” he grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t want to get in trouble with the new director.”
“Now you have me intrigued.” She swirled ruby red wine in the glass before taking a large swallow.
“You know how it is.”
The slight tightening of her lips gave away her annoyance. “What’s she like? The new director?”
Information was always king in espionage, but he didn’t want to give anyone anything they didn’t already know. “I only met her once, and she was suitably unimpressed.”
“You didn’t charm her? That’s not like you.”
He pressed his lips into a wry line. “I don’t remember being particularly charming when I worked with you.”
“Oh, trust me, your undercover bratva persona was preferable to the Chicago SAC who reveled in belittling me for every mistake I ever made. You met him. You know what he was like.”
“Yeah, but by the time I met him, I didn’t give a shit about his opinions.”
“Lucky you. I was hoping the first female FBI director would be better than he was.”
“She’s okay. I don’t think my charm or lack of it factored into any judgment.” Only his actions, which on the surface might appear suspect. “Enough about me. Tell me what life is like living in a Caribbean paradise.”
Her long fingers played with the fine stem of her glass. She’d removed her wedding band. Maybe she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t find it appealing to sleep with another man’s wife, even if the husband was supposed to be dead.
“It was lovely for the first few years, but I confess that since Charlie died, I’ve been thinking about moving back to the mainland.”
“Getting back into law enforcement?”
Her lips pinched. “I was thinking more about the Diplomatic Service.”
“Oh, wow, yeah, you’d be good at that.” And it would serve her masters’ purpose—assuming the Russians were running Bocharov, which he was pretty certain they were.
A dimple appeared in her cheek when she smiled. “I’m glad you think so. What about you? You can’t jump out of helicopters forever. What’s next when you retire?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“Liar.”
“No, I figure as soon as I start to think about what’s next, it’s time to hang up my boots, and I’m not ready yet. Still have a few bad guys to put in cages.”
“Still the raging idealist, I see.”
“Hardly.” He grunted. “But still ready to defend the Constitution and Protect and Serve, as required.”
“I’ve always found patriotic fervor a huge turn-on.” Her lips formed a very seductive smile. “Do you want to skip the main course and go straight to dessert?”
“I need more time.” Alex insisted quietly in his ear.
The server approached.
“Let me at least buy you dinner.” And figure out how he was going to not strangle her once he got her alone.
His work cell phone rang. He swore. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
She pulled a wry face. “That’s something I don’t miss, being at the Bureau’s beck and call.”
He acknowledged that with a nod, got up, and walked to the front of the restaurant.
“What’s up?”
It was Mac. “We finally got into the records from the limo company Bocharov used in Veracruz—”
“I’m in the middle of—”
“Dinner with former Special Agent Stork, I know, but I thought you’d want to know that the company we discovered that rented the vehicle also owns a private jet that just landed in a small airfield near Jackson, Virginia, twenty miles northwest of Richmond.
Flight reports indicate nine individuals, eight men, one woman got off that plane, which is still at the airfield.
They rented two big SUVs. We tracked down rented accommodation for them near Montpelier.
Secluded fancy house in the woods. About ten miles south of Moses Lake. ”
Fear clutched his throat. “Daisy?”
“She’s fine. Regan and Cisco are with her. We have HRT en route to stake out the house in the woods. Description fits Bocharov, but he used a different name this time, Perkin Bates.”
Emotion soaked Jordan like rain. It was him. It was Bocharov. “Another Hitchcock reference.”
“Figured. I wanted to know whether or not you wanted in on the arrest.”
“Fuck, yes. But what about Stork…” He turned around but the table was empty. “Shit. She’s gone. Head’s up, Alex.”
“Roger that.”
“Do you have enough to arrest her?” Mac asked.
“She lied to me about being married knowing I’m a federal agent. Everything else is circumstantial, but we can’t risk her skipping out. She’s here for a reason.”
“Agreed. You and Alex apprehend her and then have WFO take over so you can join Gold Team for the takedown. I’ll contact Ridley Branson to give him the head’s up.”
“I’ll call you back.” Jordan ignored the confused-looking server, noted both elevators were occupied so sprinted to take the stairs.
“Any sign?” he asked Alex.
“Not yet, but she has a weapon in her main purse. A now unloaded weapon. I’m going to step into the bathroom, see if she calls anyone when she arrives.
We might get a name or a number. The room itself was clean of listening devices, but the Russians would want to know what she’d been up to.
If it was me, I’d intercept her cell. See if you can get her to admit her involvement and offer her a deal for what she knows. ”
Jordan knew what Alex meant. See if he could get her to turn State’s Evidence. Let her avoid the consequences of getting his beloved sister, mother, grandmother and grandfather murdered in the most painful and obscene fashion. He wasn’t sure he could do it.
When the alternative was terrorism involving nuclear material and radioactive fallout, he didn’t have a choice.
Her room was on the third floor and Jordan raced around the corner just as she reached her door. “Oh, Jordan, I was coming back down. I had to grab something from my room.”
He strode towards her with a cocky smile. “Couldn’t wait for dessert, huh?”
She opened her door and gave him time to catch it before she hurried inside.
“Nice room.” He followed her in. The balcony doors were wide open, the curtains gently billowing. “You wanna get naked?”
Her lip twisted into an ugly snarl as she pulled a Ruger LCP II from the leather purse sitting on a chair near the window. “Let’s stop pretending, shall we?”
“But you’re so good at it.”
“There was no way you happened to bump into me today. I’m not stupid.”
He let the door click shut behind him and hoped to hell Alex had removed all the bullets from her gun.
“How far were you willing to go, Jenna? I mean, I know death isn’t an obstacle but were you going to try to fuck me into telling you everything you so desperately wanted to know?
Or were you planning to kill me as soon as you got me naked? ”
“I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but I’d rather fuck a cockroach than you.”
“Hard same, Jenna, hard same. I’d need intravenous Viagra to get it up for you. No offense.”
“Bullshit.” Her expression twisted. “Bull. Shit. You’ll screw anything with a pulse. That’s why that stripper had to die.”
Anger surged through him. “That stripper had a name—Ana Orlova. And she had a razor-sharp mind and a soft heart, and she didn’t deserve to die.”