Stolen Heat Part 16

Halloway looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Minyawi was involved in one of my last cases. Martin knew I'd want a crack at him."

Pete knew better than to believe that. There was something else going on here.

"Okay," Kat finally said as if she had all the explanation she needed. "What now?"

Halloway looked her way again. "Now we take you in, put you in protective custody. Your location will most likely be leaked so they can draw him out. You'll be completely safe, of course."

Of course, Pete knew that was a big fat lie. But what could he do? This didn't concern him, and ultimately, it was her choice. But man, big red warning flags were popping up all over in his mind.

Kat glanced Pete's way, uncertainty and the slightest bit of fear in her eyes. She looked at the wood beneath her feet, then glanced up at Halloway again. "Okay. But you have to take both of us."

"What?" Pete and Halloway both asked at the same time.

She ignored Pete and instead said to Halloway, "You and I both know he'll go after Pete to get to me."

"Look," Pete cut in, all her quiet time in the car suddenly making sense, "I don't need-"

Halloway ran a hand across his chin. "She's probably right."

Pete shot a glare at Kat, then nodded toward Halloway. No way he was being dragged anywhere else he didn't want to go. He'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime. "You'll understand if I don't kick up my heels in delight at the thought of going anywhere willfully with the Feds. The State Department did d.i.c.k for me when I was stuck in Afghanistan."

Halloway scratched the top of his head. "I read about your situation there, Kauffman. Ticked off the wrong people on that little trip."

Kat's brow wrinkled as she looked Pete's way, but he ignored it. "Yeah, and when the U.S. cracked down on militant uprisings in the country I got stuck. Six weeks. No one did s.h.i.+t for me then."

"INTERPOL had you listed on a blue notice," Halloway said. "Your extenuating circ.u.mstances were a plus at the time. The Afghan government cooperated out of necessity."

"You mean INTERPOL wanted to keep an eye on me, and the Afghanis didn't have a choice."

"Pretty much." Halloway said. "There was a lot going on then."

Pete's jaw clenched. For him, too. A three-day meeting had stretched into six weeks until the U.S. Emba.s.sy had finally gotten him out. He had less-than-happy memories of the way he'd been treated on that trip. Especially because it was right after Kat had died, and he'd had his nose to the grindstone. s.h.i.+t, he'd been careful not not to p.i.s.s off the wrong people on that trip, though he had on numerous ones before. to p.i.s.s off the wrong people on that trip, though he had on numerous ones before.

"Pete," Kat said. "It won't be forever."

"Is that what Slade told you?"

Her expression dropped. Okay, low blow. But dammit, he wasn't about to give up his life over this. Not again. Not even for her.

"Pete-"

He shook his head and worked to keep his jaw from tightening. "I'm not going in with you."

She glanced at Halloway. "Can you give us a minute?"

Halloway checked his watch. "A couple. Then we need to go."

As he walked toward the opposite end of the bridge, Kat turned Pete's way again, and he had a sudden realization that by not agreeing to go with her, this was good-bye for them.

Closure. h.e.l.l, how many times had Lauren told him that was what he was missing, why he couldn't ever seem to get over losing Kat in the first place? Now, faced with it, he felt like his skin was being peeled off his muscles one slow inch at a time.

Ironic, considering that was how he'd felt when he'd thought she'd died. If closure was supposed to make a person feel better, then it was a crock of s.h.i.+t as far as he could see.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked. "They'll come looking for you. The fact they were at the auction confirms they've been watching you a lot longer than I thought."

Pete realized that as well, but it didn't change his decision. "I'm not going into protective custody." In fact, he actually hoped this Minyawi character came after him. Minyawi and Busir both.

Her eyes settled on the gray parka he was wearing, and she bit her lip as if there was more she wanted to say, but couldn't.

And d.a.m.n, he knew just how she felt. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her, questions he needed answered before she walked out of his life for good, but he couldn't find the words. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought being with her again could leave him feeling more empty than he'd felt when he thought she was dead.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, turning her question back around because it was the only thing he could say without unleas.h.i.+ng a firestorm neither had the time or desire to deal with.

"It's about time, don't you think? Now that it's all out in the open, there's really no reason to hide anymore."

No, there wasn't. No reason to hide. No reason to stay, either.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this," she said, looking up with more resolve than he'd seen in her eyes in nearly twenty-four hours. "Yeah, you know. I'm...I'm sorry for a lot of things, but mostly that. If I could go back and change what happened, I would."

His chest tightened as if in a vise. And words shot around in his brain like a Ping-Pong ball.

Don't let her go.

She took a step away before he could think of a good reason to make her stop. Then another. And another. And as he watched, paralyzed by pride and anger and the slightest hint of something that felt oddly like fear, his insides twisted into a knot. "Take care of yourself, Pete."

She made it halfway across the bridge before she paused and looked back. Though it made him a complete and utter schmuck, his pulse jumped in response.

She was careful not to look him in the eye, instead focusing on a spot somewhere near his feet. "You were right, you know. That last day in Cairo? In my apartment when we argued? You were right when you said I didn't know how to trust people. I don't know that I ever learned. I wish I had. I wish...yeah. I wish a lot of things."

Her gaze slowly drifted up. And when her chocolate irises locked on his, it was like looking into his past. At a lifetime of things he shouldn't have done and wished he could change. And being hit with the knowledge there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing he could do about any of it now. Especially anything that had to do with her.

She was gone before he could respond.

Pete stood in the same place, on the end of the bridge in the cool December breeze, watching as she and Halloway climbed the path on the opposite side of the small creek and disappeared over the knoll. She didn't bother to look back again, and part of him didn't really blame her. Over the past twenty-four hours, he hadn't done one thing to see her side of the issue. Sure, he'd listened to her story, but then he'd mocked her motives and made it clear he didn't want to have anything to do with her. Yeah, he'd driven her to Philadelphia, even engaged in a little chitchat, but when she'd clammed up, he hadn't pressed her to open up so he could understand what she was going through. And he hadn't offered her a single thread of help.

When he couldn't hear their voices or footsteps anymore, he took a deep breath. And knew what it felt like to be filleted from the inside out.

He headed back the way he'd come. Head down to block the bite of wind, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of jeans that weren't his. When he reached the rental, he slid behind the wheel, closed the door and just sat in the silence.

Kat's scent lingered in the interior of the car, and for some insane reason he had a memory flash. Her naked, fresh from the shower, sitting at the little vanity in her apartment, slathering that purple, jasmine-scented lotion she'd always loved all over her skin. Smiling at him over her shoulder when he offered to help. Turning and handing him the bottle with a sultry grin that did wicked hot things to his blood.

Did she still use it? Did she think of him when she rubbed it all over her body?

He glanced at the empty seat where she'd sat and noticed her backpack. In her rush to meet up with Halloway, she'd left it behind.

Giving it back to her wasn't wasn't an excuse to see her one more time. There wasn't anything he could say to her to change anything anyway. But at least it was one way he could make up for being a total a.s.s this whole last day. an excuse to see her one more time. There wasn't anything he could say to her to change anything anyway. But at least it was one way he could make up for being a total a.s.s this whole last day.

He leaned over and lifted it. Then paused as a thought occurred to him.

How many women would think to grab their purse when they were being chased by psycho killers? When had she slipped it into the truck? And why had she clutched the d.a.m.n thing to her chest like it was her last vestige of hope?

He pulled the top flap open and peered inside. Then lowered his brow in confusion. Two wigs. One blonde, another a dark auburn. A small container of colored contacts. Pa.s.sports, three different ones, all with her picture and different aliases. A series of driver's licenses from various states that looked like her but had different names. And a gun.

A Beretta.

He lifted the firearm, turned it to check the magazine. When he replaced it, he felt something hard brush his fingertips.

The crouching pharaoh he withdrew from the pack was one he'd seen a hundred times before. Because it was his.

Gold. Egyptian. Small enough to fit in a coat pocket, but intricate and ornate. It had been part of the auction.

She'd stolen it. That was what she'd been doing in New York. But why?

His confusion was interrupted as three motorbikes jerked into the empty parking lot. Out of their line of sight, he eyed the trio as they parked near the playground. When the first driver removed his helmet, light glinted off his shaved head.

Busir. Here. Already. He watched as another man dismounted and tugged off his helmet. A fall of dark hair reached his shoulders and hid his face from view.

This one had to be Minyawi.

Pete's adrenaline jumped. His brain clicked into gear as another man dismounted and a fourth bike pulled in behind them. Somehow he and Kat had been followed. Or someone Kat was with right now had ratted them out. Kat was with right now had ratted them out.

The four men ditched the bikes and took off at a slow jog across the park. When they reached the trees on the far side, Minyawi pulled a gun from his back pocket and checked the magazine. Busir and the other two did the same.

Suddenly the whys didn't matter. Pete closed Kat's pack. In a matter of minutes neither of them would need protective custody anyway.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

"Hold on. I left my backpack in the rental car."

Kat paused on the path to look back over the two small hills that hid the parking lot from view. Would Pete have left already? She needed that pack. She had to go back.

"We don't have time, Ms. Meyer." Halloway gripped her arm at the elbow.

"It'll just take a few minutes, I promise." Kat lifted her arm to free his hold but discovered his grip was solid. What was this?

"I don't think you understand the severity of the situation." His fingers dug into her arm. "We don't have a few minutes. Now let's go."

Kat looked up into his very hard, very black eyes as his words on the bridge filtered through her mind.

It wasn't so much what he'd said as how he'd said it. His tone had been laced with anger and very, very personal.

And he'd called Marty Martin. Martin. No one called Marty Slade by his given name. No one called Marty Slade by his given name.

Now we take you in, put you in protective custody. Your location will most likely be leaked so they can draw him out.

Not they. Him. Him.

Oh, G.o.d. She wasn't walking out of this park.

The tree trunk to her right splintered into a dozen pieces as a bullet whizzed by and struck with a resounding thwack. thwack. Kat yelped and jerked to cover her head when she realized what was happening. Before she could dart out of the way, Halloway had an arm around her waist and was yanking her down behind a collection of boulders just off the path. Kat yelped and jerked to cover her head when she realized what was happening. Before she could dart out of the way, Halloway had an arm around her waist and was yanking her down behind a collection of boulders just off the path.

"Stay down!" he yelled, bracing his arm on the top of the boulder to return fire.

A series of bullets ricocheted off wood and rock around her. Trembling, Kat scooted as close to the shelter of the rocks as she could to protect herself.

But as quickly as the gunshots started, they stopped.

"We want no trouble with you," a heavily accented voice finally yelled. "Just give us the girl, and you can walk away!"

"No deal!" Halloway yelled back in a very definite British accent he hadn't had before. "You want her? You're going to have to come and get her yourself!"

A low chuckle came from what seemed like only yards away. "Well now, Bertrand, I never expected to run into you here. With her."

Bertrand? Sweat broke out on Kat's forehead. Just what in the name of G.o.d was going on?

Brush rustled to her right. In the waning light she couldn't see anything more than trees and shrubs. Could she make a run for it while these two duked it out with words and bullets? She looked back at Halloway...or Bertrand...or whoever the h.e.l.l this man was and knew with a sinking reality she wouldn't make it very far. For whatever reason, he was here because of her, and he wasn't about to let her out of his sight.

"You underestimated me, Minyawi!"

Another chuckle. Followed by footsteps. Close. Closer.

The brush rustled mere feet from her. Kat sank back against the rocks.

Out of nowhere Bertrand whipped around and fired into the brush at her side. Kat jerked and shrieked. Her ears rang from the popping sounds. A man she hadn't seen approach fell to the ground at her feet, his wide, lifeless eyes staring out at nothing.

Oh, G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d.

Bertrand whipped back and fired again over the rock. "One down! How many more you got, Minyawi? We can do this all night. But I guarantee I'll kill the girl myself before I'll give her to you!"

In the distance there was a low rumble, like thunder, though the sky was clear.

More laughter, this time from a different location in the trees. "She begged me to kill her. Did you know that? She's one I will never forget."

Bertrand went rigid all over. His face morphed in rage, his hands tightening on the gun as he searched the park with lifeless eyes. And for a second, Kat was sure she'd heard that voice before. But where?

"Go ahead, kill the girl," Minyawi yelled. "You save me the trouble of having to do her myself. It makes no difference to me."

Kat tensed.

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Bertrand started firing rapidly into the brush, and Kat took that as her cue to cut and run.

She jumped to her feet and ran at breakneck speed through the woods. The rumbling grew louder, but she didn't pause to look back, couldn't because she knew she'd fall and didn't want to see if they were closing in on her. Her heart pounded in her throat, echoed in her ears. At any moment she expected to be gunned down, but she wasn't going out without a fight. Not after all this time.