Chapter Nine #3
“We’ve checked the rooftops. They’re clear. Searching street by street,” Mackey called to him.
Quaid waved to tell him he heard, but stayed next to her. Patina and Conners remained at the mouth of the alley, guarding their backs.
“It’s so quiet here. Was then, too. You can’t hear the street and the people on the street can’t hear you. I screamed and screamed while Mercer was attacking me, and nobody came.”
“Whit found you and stop it?”
“Well, he stopped it. But what happened isn’t clear. At this point, Mercer had left DNA all over this alley…” She turned wide eyes to him. “They never tested anything that I could find. It was entered into the database as a street fight. Not worth the time.”
“I disagree. Worth the time, but no resources. That was sixteen years ago. Debatable whether they would have found him. Look at the trouble we’re having. He trained himself and layered military techniques to his skill set. He was already hiding who he was.”
“Three days of this.” She sighed. “Why don’t we lay out Whit’s military record and find what we can that way.”
“Kerry has begun that search. We are assuming they served together.” Quaid glanced at her, not liking the dark circles under her eyes. That he had matching ones was a given.
They had dozens of people here and SDPD had an equal amount. The search was rapidly progressing, and they weren’t needed for door to door. Mackey could handle it, but Quaid’s gut said Mercer was gone. He was testing them again.
She needed a longer rest. “Let’s go to my house. You still have reports to write, and I need a shower, clothes, and a quiet minute.”
Her gaze jerked to his and traced his face.
“You aren’t the only one who’s tired, Wildcat.”
“I didn’t know you had a house here. I thought it was in Los Angeles.” She waited for an answer, the confusion on her face when he didn’t reply pushing him to peel off a layer of identity.
“I sold my house in Los Angeles after the many wildfires. I use the LA Downtown Patton when I have to stay there. When we formed QM, we decided San Diego was better – closer proximity to military – and I bought a house here. By the beach, a few miles from the office. It’s a base of operations for me without using the office.
” Why it scraped so hard as a confession, he couldn’t imagine except he didn’t tell girlfriends about his home space.
He used hotel suites instead. Part of the dating adventure.
But she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his partner.
A whole different context. Elizabeth was family and visited frequently.
Niles lived with him. Mackey, Harrison, Hunt, and Cait were the only other four who had been to his house that weren’t there for security.
And why? Did he need to guard his living space from people who owned his soul as family?
She watched his face and didn’t say anything. At least the fractured look in her eyes was gone. He checked in with Frank for an update, then turned her back to the SUV parked at the end of the alley.
At the vehicle, he opened the door and put Lani in the backseat. “We’re going to my house. Both of you join us. I’ll cleared it.” He didn’t want to be the only source of protection from this guy. Not right now.
“Conners, you drive.” The man knew the way to the house and was a former U.S. Marshall. He did the security checks on his as well as Cait and Hunt’s house, and his driving and weapons skills were to be envied.
Both men put agreement into action.
He dialed Mackey. “Leaving. Alanna’s had it. So have I. We’re going to my house. I’m taking Conners and Patina.”
“Copy. Bailey’s working with Remy, and we’ll finish and talk about this tomorrow. Get some sleep. Niles with you?”
“He will be.” He would text him next.
“Good. See you tomorrow.”
He clicked off, sent the text, and rounded the car, getting in the back next to Alanna. His phone dinged. Niles agreed to meet them there. “We’re ready, Conners. Let’s go.”
Her eyes were on the alley, even though the setting sun left little light in the shadows. She shivered, a chill or a memory brushing over her. Didn’t matter. Quaid took his life into his hands. Shifting closer, he put an arm around her and pulled her against him.
“What are you doing?”
“We need some food and some rest, and there’s no reason not to lean on me.
Niles is meeting us there. Wait until you get a taste of his homemade chicken noodle soup.
” And probably half a dozen other things he’d ply her with.
Food and a deep soak in the guest room soaker tub, and she’d be eased into sleep by the combo.
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t move either. His girl was messed up and he hated it.
She kept her eyes on the streets, clocking every corner until they turned their way to better neighborhoods and the freeway.
And still she sat stiff and silent.
Having a familiarity with how violence lingered in the system and how many sleepless nights he’d had after getting shot in Afghanistan, he let her have the moments and stayed close. It was all he could do.