Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“There’s blood everywhere!” A yell.
Tyler’s head whipped up.
A frantic teenager rushed toward the line of registers.“Call the cops!” he blasted. “A lady needs help outside!”
Tyler dropped the chocolate chips. He raced toward the front doors and shoved through the crowd of customers who were suddenly all scrambling to get out. As soon as he cleared the doors and erupted outside…
Esme, Esme, where are you?
A big truck had slammed into one of the pillars near the entrance to the grocery store. A buggy had gotten pinned near the truck’s massive grille. The buggy was smashed and bent and…
Red.
Everywhere. Red was everywhere.
For a minute, Tyler could have sworn his heart stopped. The contents of the buggy…His mind clicked through them. The ice cream. The coffee. The freaking angel hair pasta. Esme’s buggy.
Only there was no Esme to be seen.
“I’m so sorry!” It was the teenager. Bobbing and weaving and shaking near Tyler. “I-I didn’t see her. She ran right in front of me!”
Tyler shoved the kid away from him. Heart now racing in a double-time rhythm, Tyler leapt to the opposite side of the truck. A small throng of nervous onlookers had gathered over there. He recognized the doctor in her scrubs and?—
Esme.
On the ground. Curled in a ball. Tyler didn’t realize he’d roared her name until she turned slowly and looked back at him.
I’m okay. He couldn’t hear those words from her. Not over the thunder of his heartbeat, but he saw the movement of her lips and the world stopped imploding. At least a little.
Tyler rushed to her just as Esme opened her arms and a crying girl lurched out of them. The girl flew at her mother.
And Esme fell back against the black pavement.
“I’m really okay,” she told Tyler as he came to a shuddering halt beside her. “The driver looked up and saw me at the last second. He rammed into the pillar instead of hitting me and the kid.”
“You saved my girl.” The doctor clutched her daughter tightly. “You saved her!”
Tyler swept his gaze over Esme. He could see blood on one of her hands. And her jeans were torn at the knee. More blood. “Sweetheart?”
She lifted a hand toward him. Except that hand clutched a decidedly beat-up-looking teddy bear. “Give this to her, would you?”
He took the bear. Handed it to the mom.
The girl stopped crying.
More people gathered.
“We should call an ambulance,” someone said .
“What if her back is broken?” From someone else.
“What’s up with all the blood?” A third voice. Younger. Cracking.
“Pretty sure that’s my pasta sauce.” Esme curled her fingers around Tyler’s hand. “Help me up, would you? So unglamorous to be sprawled this way in front of everyone.”
Screw glamour. He didn’t just help her up. He lifted her and cradled her against his chest. Tyler was aware that his whole body seemed to shake. And, fuck it, he’d called her Esme in front of the crowd. She’d asked to be called Elizabeth, and he’d been the one to screw up. So not like him.
But these weren’t normal circumstances. Esme could have been killed.
Her lashes lifted as she peered at him. “You all right?”
No. For a moment there, he’d been afraid she was dead. He pressed a kiss to her temple. A worried husband would do that, wouldn’t he? Kiss his wife. Hold her like he’d never let go. Feel fear sink into his very bones.
It’s just a role. I’m doing this for the audience.
So why did it all feel real? In her ear, he whispered, “This really how you keep a low profile?”
Esme trembled. “I fucked up.”
Yeah.
All eyes were on her.
“But if I had to,” she told him, voice husky, “I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
A siren cut through the curious voices. Then, a few moments later, a door slammed. Rushing footsteps joined the party, and Tyler wasn’t overly surprised when he heard Clay demand, “ What in the hell is happening here?”
“People hiding out in safe houses are supposed to keep low profiles.” Clay paced in front of the old fireplace in the den of their safe house. “They don’t attract attention. They blend.” He stopped and pointed at Esme as she sat on the couch. “You do not blend.”
She bit her lower lip. “Sorry, but, ah, not sorry, too.” Like she could regret saving that adorable girl.
A long exhale came from Clay even as his hands fell to perch on his hips. “Bobby Miller wasn’t paying enough damn attention. Little Kady Jo was too freaking small—he wouldn’t have seen her in time. You saved her life.”
Her knee still ached. So did her palms. And Esme shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Clay stared at her. “You get that if Bobby hadn’t finally turned his head in the right direction, he would have hit you? That you’d be seriously hurt, if not dead right now?”
She swallowed. “Yeah, I get it. But thanks for the reminder.”
Clay’s attention shifted to Tyler. “I thought she was supposed to be some master criminal.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“What’s the deal?” Clay demanded. “Because right now, my whole freaking town thinks she’s a hero.”
“Never been that before.” Esme rose. “Should be a fun change of pace, don’t you think? Especially for a master criminal like me. I’m second only to the wicked witch, you know. Absolutely heartless.” Her gaze darted to Tyler. Is that what you told him I was? “Excuse me. It’s been a big day.” It had been. Tyler had insisted she get checked out by an EMT even though she’d been fine. Just a little bruised and banged up. No biggie. Then they’d gone to the sheriff’s station. There had been questions. So many of them.
And, of course, they’d had to pick up groceries again. Though the store had given them to her for free, so…win.
In the end, the whole day had slipped away. Now she wanted to escape from the men and their grilling and their accusations and go upstairs. “I think I’ll take a shower and turn in. Night, gentlemen.” She headed for the stairs.
Surprise, surprise, Tyler stepped into her path. “You’re not the wicked witch.”
“Oh, stop. Your compliments will overwhelm me.” She was so done, and he didn’t even get it. How could he? He’d forgotten her after Paris, while she’d built him up in her head as being this incredible white knight. She’d thought of him nearly every single day. Obsession much, Esme?
She’d been so sure that he would be the answer to her troubles. Someone she could trust. Someone who would help her and never be tempted to betray her.
Yes, she had a problem with high expectations. Sue her.
But there was only so much one woman could take. And the big truck with its gleaming grill? That would be another image that she added to her nightmares. She’d held her shit together all day. Even as she’d felt like she was shaking apart on the inside. The master criminal crack from the sheriff had been the final straw for her.
You’re smart if you believe absolutely nothing that you hear and only about half of what your eyes can see…
But what if the part you saw was the truth?
“Scoot, Tyler.” Esme waved her hand in a shooing motion.
He didn’t scoot or shoo. He stood right there, the big, unmovable object that he was.
“You’re too pale.”
“Stop. Really. More compliments?” Esme shook her head. “How does any woman resist you and that killer charm you possess?”
“Your fingers are shaking.”
Indeed, they were. She curled her hands into fists. “My blood sugar must be low.”
He didn’t appear to buy that excuse. “Are you coming off an adrenaline crash?”
Well, she had almost been run down, so, yes, probably. But her chin lifted. “No, I’m just absolutely bored and ready for bed. Only there is a six-foot-three marshal in my way.”
He stared at her.
She glared at him.
His body seemed to stiffen more with every moment that passed. She truly did not think the man was going to move when?—
“I’ll be joining you in a few minutes, Esme.” He stepped to the side.
“Really, how odd. I don’t remember giving you an invitation to join me.” She skirted around him and hopped up the steps. A twinge shot through her knee, but she ignored the brief flash of pain.
“One bed, sweetheart. One bed.”
Esme glanced back.
“See you soon.” His eyes blazed.
Tyler waited until Esme reached the top of the stairs. He kept his eyes on her every single second.
“Look, you need to?—”
Tyler held up a hand, indicating that Clay needed to stop talking. His friend stopped .
A few moments later, Tyler heard the bedroom door shut upstairs. He dropped his hand and fired an angry glare at Clay. “Don’t ever call her a criminal again.”
Clay’s green eyes seemed to double in size. “Uh, that’s what she is. You’re the one who told me that trivia fact! Remember? When you contacted me and asked if I could get this old house ready?”
“I was wrong. Things are more complicated than they first appeared to be.” His hands had clenched. He hadn’t liked the look in Esme’s eyes. Pain. He wanted to take every bit of her pain away.
“Complicated, my ass. You told me that you caught the woman with diamonds strapped to her thigh. She’s tied to dozens of thefts and currently wanted on the dark web for a stupid amount of money. You don’t get a bounty like that on your head when you live a life of virtue and grace.”
That crap wasn’t funny. “Don’t call her a criminal again. You do, and we’ll have a problem.”
Clay edged toward him. His eyebrows beetled down in concern. “Did you hit your head at some point today?”
“Fuck off.”
“Huh. Okay. Maybe not your head. Are you just thinking with your dick all of a sudden?”
Tyler sucked in a breath. “We’re about to have that problem I mentioned.” He’d warned Clay, but if the other man chose to ignore the warning—that was just on him.
“Look, we both need to take a minute.” Wisely, Clay took both a minute and a step back from Tyler. “I’m confused as hell about Esme, too. She saved Kady Jo! You know I freaking love that kid. I’m trying to convince her mom to marry me, but so far Vanessa has resisted my charms.” He blew out a breath. “So I’m now grateful to a crimin—okay! Jeez, breathe!” He’d retreated fast when Tyler surged toward him. “Didn’t mean to say the c-word. It slipped out!”
It had better not slip out again. “Esme could have been hit by that truck. She could have died.”
“Bobby was driving too damn fast. It was a parking lot, for goodness’ sake. He was rolling through there like a dumbass, and he could have seriously hurt someone. If your Esme hadn’t been there, hell, I don’t want to imagine what I might be doing right now.” Clay raked a hand through his already disheveled brown hair. “So, whatever else she’s done, for the moment, definitely consider me on Esme’s team.”
“Like you weren’t on her team before?”
Clay waited a beat. “Like you were? Like you are not seriously working an angle and trying to manipulate that woman so you can get intel for your federal buddies?”
Shit.
And a door opened and then immediately clicked closed upstairs. Sonofabitch. He’d been afraid of that. Esme was listening to us talk. The first time she’d shut the door, it had just been a ruse. To make him think she’d gone into the bedroom. When, really, she’d lingered to eavesdrop. Of course, Clay had just blurted out the worst possible accusation. “I am on her team. She’s it. My goal. I keep her safe.”
“Because she’s the assignment.”
“Because she’s Esme.” There’d been a dramatic shift in their relationship. And he didn’t even know how to process everything that was changing inside of him. All he knew was that…
Esme isn’t going to die. Esme isn’t going to be hurt. I will never rush toward her prone body again and feel fear and anger and grief pour through me because I think she’s gone .
“Aw, hell. Like that? Seriously?”
Tyler rolled back his shoulders. “Are we back to our problem?”
Clay swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know I’ve followed you to hell and back before. I’ll do it again. But, let’s try to avoid getting burned as much as possible, okay?”
It was hard not to get burned when the fire was so tempting.
After Clay left, Tyler secured the front door. Then he glanced upstairs. Did he hear the faint sound of running water? Had Esme climbed into the shower? He pulled out his phone and made a quick, necessary call.
Gray answered on the first ring. “Tell me that we don’t have a problem already.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Good.” A relieved sigh. “Because I need that woman to continue being alive and to continue cooperating. The stuff she shared before leaving with you? Freaking gold mine already. The CIA is about to piss themselves. And I know that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what she knows. We need her talking and cooperating fully. You have to break through her walls and get her to tell you every single secret that she has.”
His jaw ached because he’d clenched his back teeth so hard. Did everyone think he was just going to seduce Esme to get intel? With an effort, he forced himself to relax. “What’s happening with the hit on her? You find out who put up the bounty?”
“Look, I’m still trying to find out who the hell killed the bastard in our custody. Kinda got a lot of work going on here, my friend. I’ve been grilling suspects all day, and let me just tell you, the other Feds don’t like it when you question them. That kind of thing makes you very unpopular at the office.”
“Too bad. I don’t like it when other Feds are dirty.”
“You and me both.” An exhale. “Jorlan came to visit me, did I tell you that already?”
No, he damn well had not.
“Guy was pretty pissed. Kept demanding to see Esme. Got to say, for someone who had his diamonds located, he sure seemed real twitchy.”
Tyler waited. He knew there would be more. With Gray, there always was.
“Twitchy in a way that told me more was at play. I called in some favors from the local PD. Got a tail on him. You’re not gonna like this but…the guy took off in his private jet first thing this morning.”
“And where the hell did he go?” Shit.
“The plane landed in Vegas. Except I can’t actually find anyone there who has seen Jorlan.”
Great. “Are we compromised?”
“Be on guard. No need to relocate yet. You have friends in that area, we both know it. They can watch your six.”
“Just how many enemies are going to be closing in on my Esme?”
“Uh, your Esme?”
A slipup. “She’s my charge, isn’t she?” And she’s wearing my ring. Okay, yeah, he needed to cool his ass down. The ring was just a prop. The relationship was pretend. The job? Real. Keeping her safe? A very, very real priority. No, a necessity.
“She’s your charge, all right,” Gray agreed readily enough. “And don’t you wonder why she was so dead set on you being her companion?” Curiosity darkened the words.
Tyler knew why she’d wanted him. For some reason, he didn’t share their past with Gray. Instead, Tyler asked, “How many enemies are closing in?”
“I don’t know! Find out from her. This would be the whole get close business I was referring to moments ago. For seven million dollars, every eager hitman in the world will be gunning for her. You know this. So, if I were you, I’d probably lock the woman inside the safe house. Keep her fully secure and under watch at all times.”
Lock up Esme? He almost snorted. “A little late for that.” She’d already been out and about and catching plenty of attention from the locals. Her low profile was a thing of the past.
“Tyler, do not tell me something that will make my blood pressure go up even more than it already is.”
Fine. He wouldn’t tell Gray about the supermarket incident.
“It’s not the number of enemies that concern me,” Gray continued doggedly. “It’s who has enough cash to actually put seven million on her head. And when I think about that, I keep going back to one man.”
Like Tyler hadn’t already made the connection. “Jorlan.”
“Right. The psycho bastard has money to burn. You know I think he’s been tied to murder, drug deals, and the weapons trade. Getting the charges to stick, though? Whole different matter.”
The task force hadn’t just been about stopping the jewel theft ring. That had been the story Tyler and Gray had sold to Jorlan. The real truth was that they’d been looking for evidence to use against the SOB. They’d wanted to catch the thieves, and they’d wanted to take down Jorlan.
The first part of the mission had been achieved. As for stopping Jorlan? That hadn’t happened. And now, “He’s vanished.” A very bad sign.
“He won’t come for her himself.”
Nah. Jorlan didn’t seem like the kind to get his hands dirty. “Thus, the seven million hit.”
A grunt from Gray. “Unless your Esme has made some other insane billionaire furious with her. It’s your job to find out the truth. So go and act like you think the woman is amazing. Pretend that you’ve fallen under her witchy spell or some shit. Play the player and get the mission accomplished.”
“You did not just say that to me. ‘Play the player.’ Are you drunk?”
“I saw the way she looked at you.” No humor in Gray’s words. “Use it, okay?”
How had Esme looked at him?
“Just make sure that she doesn’t use you along the way, got it? Stay emotionally detached or you’ll never get the job done.”
Esme was the job. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle her.”
“Good.”
Tyler hung up. After a few moments, he made sure all the alarms were set, and he turned off the lights downstairs. He didn’t intend to bunk down on the floor again.
With slow, deliberate steps, he made his way upstairs. He went straight to the bedroom on the right. The bedroom that he knew Esme had selected the night before. The door was shut. His hand lifted, and his knuckles rapped against the door.
No answer. But when he reached down, the knob turned easily. Not locked. He opened the door. “Esme?”
Again, no answer. He pushed open the door more. Eased inside. The lamp beside the bed had been left on, and it spilled a soft glow onto the big bed. An old brass bed. Certainly large enough for two. But the bed was empty.
The bathroom door creaked open. Automatically, his head turned toward that door. Steam drifted around Esme as she stood there, with a white towel wrapped around her body. Her gaze swept over him.
He should speak. And pick up his jaw from the floor. “You, ah, you saved that girl today.”
Soft laughter slipped from her as she strolled toward him. “Stop giving me credit I don’t deserve.” Esme stopped right in front of him and tipped back her head. Her wet hair slid over her shoulders. “I knew there was plenty of time to get out of that truck’s way. He really wasn’t going that fast. I wanted the people in town to like me, so, goal achieved.” Her hand rose, and she gave his cheek a little pat. “You are so gullible. It’s almost charming.” A soft sigh. She turned away. Headed for the bed. With her back to him, she dropped the towel and provided him with a truly impressive view of her fine ass. “Feel free to join me in bed. There’s certainly enough room for two.” She slid beneath the covers.
He wasn’t breathing.
“Oh, by the way…” Her voice floated to him. “I hope you had a great chat on the phone with your federal buddy .”
Could the woman hear everything?
“Tell me, was it anything like the glorious chat you and your sheriff friend had about me? Always great to know that you’re in the game of manipulation so that you can learn all of my dark and naughty secrets.”
Fuck.
Esme was pissed. And he was screwed.
The day had been entirely too freaking long. Grayson grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, flipped off his desk light, and headed for his door.
But the door opened before he could reach it.
His boss stared back at him. “Ah, Agent Stone!” Thaddeus Caldwell cleared his throat. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Now? But if his boss was making an appearance, the someone there to see him had to be a BFD. So he stepped back and put a smile on his face as he got ready to meet the Big Fucking Deal in question.
His boss entered the office first.
Thaddeus was followed immediately by a hulking guy in black. Bodyguard? Hired muscle? That’s what the man screams.
Then…
An older man, silver at his temples, hair perfectly trimmed, and wearing a suit that appeared to cost more than a month of Grayson’s salary. The man’s dark eyes swept assessingly over Grayson. “Special Agent Stone.”
“That’s me.” He inclined his head. “And you are…?” But he already knew. Because he had this man’s picture—and his file—in his top desk drawer.
“I’m Etienne Laurent, and I want my daughter.”
Oh, damn. “Your daughter?” he echoed. He did not look at his boss.
“Don’t insult either of us, s’il vous pla?t. I know that you were the agent who arrested my daughter in that bit of confusion that occurred at Jorlan’s residence. I’ve spoken with him, and he has assured me that he has no intention of pressing charges against my Esme for something that was simply a miscommunication.”
Grayson rubbed the back of his neck. “When, exactly, did you speak with Jorlan?”
“This evening, when I was flying to the country because some foolish FBI agent had erroneously arrested my daughter. The daughter of a diplomat.” His dark stare was unblinking. And icy cold. “I’d certainly better not learn that you’ve been keeping my daughter locked up this entire time.”
His boss really needed to give him some kind of signal on how to proceed here. But Thaddeus remained silent and stoic. Great, just gonna let this shit hit the fan, huh?
“Esme,” Etienne said. “Now.”
So, since Thaddeus wasn’t offering a lifeline, Grayson would just go with the story they’d established previously and hope like hell that his boss had not changed his mind. “Esme was released long ago. She’s certainly not in any cell.”
Still no blinks from the French Ambassador. “So where is she?”
“Uh, have you tried calling her?”
“ Oui, I’ve tried calling her, and I’ve tried tracking her cell. It isn’t on.”
“You didn’t get any texts from her?” An agent should have texted the man—acting as Esme and saying that she was going out of town for a bit to decompress.
“I have not received texts from my daughter. Just some bullshit from a federal agent pretending to be my Esme.”
Uh, oh.
Finally, his boss stepped forward. “I told the ambassador I had no idea what he was talking about.”
Way to cover your own ass. Grayson straightened his shoulders. “I certainly don’t have any idea, either. If you got a text from your daughter—well, sorry you didn’t like what she had to say, but that’s not the FBI’s problem.” Playing nicely with this man wasn’t going to be an option. There was something cold and hard about him. And his eyes were like pure black ice. “Esme Laurent is not being held in a cell anywhere.” Complete truth. Esme was in a safe house, not a cell. “She told me she wanted to find some peace and quiet. That’s what I hope she found.”
“Esme isn’t one for peace. And she hates the quiet. Came from briefly losing her hearing a few years ago.”
Surprise rolled through him.
“But you didn’t know that.” Etienne seemed satisfied. “Because you are not one of her confidants. I see that I’ve misjudged the situation. Je regrette. ” He turned on his heel. His bodyguard instantly fell in line behind him.
“Wait!” What in the hell was going on? Grayson had the uneasy feeling he’d just been thoroughly interrogated, and he hadn’t even realized the interrogation was occurring until it ended.
Etienne gripped the wooden doorframe. “There something you need, Agent Stone?”
He needed lots of answers. “Just how close are you and Jorlan Rodgers?” He’d start with that inquiry. Jorlan was as dirty as they came. And the way this man was talking had alarm bells ringing in Grayson’s head.
Etienne turned and smiled at him. “As close as I suppose a man can be to his future son-in-law.”
Grayson let the surprise show on his face. “Esme and Jorlan are engaged?” Since when? “Neither one mentioned that to me.”
“They are not officially engaged yet. Simply a matter of time, though. They’ve been involved before. They break apart. Then come back together. They can’t stay away from one another. Some things and people are just meant to be.” A brief hesitation. “ Au revoir .”
“Yeah, au revoir. ”
His boss hurried to follow the ambassador out. The door clicked closed behind them.
Grayson stayed put, with his mind absolutely whirling. Is Esme conning us all? Is she fucking Jorlan and playing the Feds? If so, dammit, Tyler could be in danger.
Fuck, fuck.
A few minutes later…
His door swung open. Then slammed shut again. “Did you know that?” Thaddeus demanded. “Did you know that Esme and Jorlan were romantically involved? What in the hell? How screwed are we?”
His breath expelled. Very screwed. But only if what the ambassador said was true.
So…was it true?
One man would be able to find out for him. Except Grayson wasn’t about to call Tyler with Thaddeus standing in front of him. Because I don’t trust my boss. Not completely.
“Get Jorlan’s file,” Thaddeus barked. “And Esme’s. We’re going over them right the hell now. No one uses me and my team. No one. ”