The Fugitive's Secret Child. Geri Krotow

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СКАЧАТЬ she’d fallen for and gotten pregnant by. He was a different kind of guy now, though. He’d been in the vicinity of very, very bad men. And he knew who Vasin and Ivanov were. Not usual LEA targets. More like FBI, even CIA. The Marshals had been called in to nab Vasin only because they hadn’t received the intelligence that he was with other men and protected. Trina wasn’t fazed by running across an agent from another LEA—it happened all the time. But in this instance, and with “Rob” not revealing which agency he worked for, her hackles were at attention. It had nothing to do with the sexual attraction she was imagining between them. Seriously, in the middle of an op?

      A quick look at her rearview mirror revealed Rob with his head laid back again, maybe trying to escape the incredible discomfort he was in. She’d call in for a doctor as soon as they were an hour out from the Harrisburg station. Giving him first aid unless he was facing imminent death wasn’t an option, as they had to make time and put road between them and ROC. Rob had said he was fine, that he didn’t need to stop at Lehigh Valley medical center. She chose to believe him. Stopping to clean wounds and place bandages was a luxury when being chased by bad guys.

      She should have checked him over for any bleeding wounds. And internal bleeding—it was pretty clear he’d probably snapped a rib or two, either from his escape out of the warehouse or from Vasin and his posse whaling on him. But her mind, her heart, had been vibrating from the effort to assimilate what she witnessed.

      The resurrection of her son’s father. A man come back to life.

      Her phone buzzed and the ID indicated it was Corey on a secure line.

      “Hey, boss.”

      “Any more information from Rob Bristol, Trina?”

      “Nothing more than what I told you. He says he’s Robert Bristol, that he was working to find Ivanov and Vasin. He’s got a lot of bruises, maybe a cracked rib. But nothing serious, hopefully.”

      “He’s telling you the truth, Trina.” Corey never spoke with such a dramatic tone of conciliation unless he thought she was about to lose it from a particularly rough operation, or when he was insistent she take time off.

      “Okay, fine, so who does he work for?”

      “I’ll fill you in when this is over. All of it’s above my pay grade. Bottom line is that he’s not a suspect or fugitive. He’s one of us, but with a different group. You can trust him. And if you need to, follow his orders.”

      Trust the man who let her believe he’d died during a failed raid in the Mideast? Who’d obviously lived but never came to find her afterward? Who didn’t know their passion, their uncontrollable lust for each other, had made a baby who was her precious Jake?

      “Okaaaaay.” She couldn’t help drawing out her response. Just a little.

      “I’ve called because you’ve got new orders, Lopez.”

      “Can’t they wait until we’re in? We’re only sixty miles out.” She wanted to be home with her son, in her house. The sooner the better.

      “Nope. You’re not stopping in Harrisburg. As a matter of fact, you’re going to pull off in three miles and get a new rental, then head south on I-81. Use your company card and find a hotel when you need to, and hole up. You need to take three days to get back here. You need to practice maximum evasion—not just for his sake but for yours and Justin’s. These are the worst of the worst, Trina. ROC don’t leave anyone alive who’s pegged them.”

      “We have to do this all weekend?”

      “Yes.”

      “Where do we end up, then?” She tried to sound calm, professional.

      “Ultimately, you’ll bring Rob Bristol back to his home base.”

      The hair on her nape prickled, and she massaged her neck with one hand on the wheel.

      “And where is that?”

      “Silver Valley.”

      “As in where I just bought my new house?” What the hell was Rob Bristol of “TH” doing in Silver Valley?

      Corey was quiet for a moment. “Yes. I can’t say anymore on this line. Stop along the way. Stay in more populated areas, at regular hotels. Nothing fancy. You’re just another couple playing tourist. Charge everything to the company.”

      Trina groaned. The “company” was of course the US Marshals. This was official business. She blew out a deliberate, angry puff of air. This was not happening to her. Yet inexplicably, it was.

      “Roger, boss. Got it.”

      “Check in as usual.”

      “Will do.”

      “And Lopez?”

      “Yes, sir?”

      “The dog food is on your tab.”

      Corey disconnected the call, and Trina would have screamed at the top of her lungs if she were alone.

      Alone. Her gaze flew to the mirror and collided with the blue laser that was Rob Bristol’s stare. Justin’s. The glance that had set her on fire at one time, made her wet before he’d stroked between her legs with his fingers. Made her entire body quiver in anticipation.

      She gulped. “Your left eye appears to be getting better—the swelling is going down.”

      “What did you have on your schedule this weekend?”

      Dang it. He’d heard the call. Or her side of it, at least.

      “Nothing that can’t be rearranged.” She wished her heart, her soul, felt as calm and easygoing as her reply. Trina had her family and Jake’s friends’ families to rely on. Since they’d moved, though, his friends were forty-five minutes away, north of her office in Harrisburg. They hadn’t set down roots in Silver Valley yet. But he’d be able to stay with her parents, or her brother would stay over at her place with him. She need only make the call.

      “There was a time when you would have done anything to spend an overnight with me, Trina.”

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