Protective Custody. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ looked stark against his dark skin. “The car the shooter used was stolen. And Nicole had a room at the Sheraton downtown. She checked out just over an hour ago.”

      Ian glanced at his watch, one-fifteen. “Did she call for a cab?”

      “The doorman said she got into a Ford Explorer parked on the opposite side of the street.” Martinez swore. “My brother is going to enjoy killing me.”

      “It’ll show up at the airport,” Ian said distractedly. He needed to know where Nicole was headed and from which airport. And he needed to know now.

      “I’m sorry I lost her, man,” Martinez offered again.

      Ian met the other man’s concerned gaze. Though inexperienced, Martinez was a good investigator. In time he would be a force to be reckoned with, and there was no time like the present to gain valuable experience. Ian knew he could trust Martinez completely. Besides, Nicole was a formidable opponent. Ian didn’t know anyone, not even himself, he mused, that she couldn’t best if she put her mind to it. Martinez might as well learn the hard way.

      “It’s okay, Martinez. Nicole is not your typical vulnerable female client.” At least not on the surface, Ian amended silently.

      Martinez huffed. “You got that right.”

      “Mr. Michaels, I have that information you requested.”

      Ian motioned for Mildred, Victoria’s secretary, to come in. He accepted the documents she offered.

      “Miss Reed has a reservation on every flight on all airlines headed to D.C. and New York that are scheduled to leave O’Hare and Midway between three o’clock and eight o’clock today.”

      Ian scanned the list of flights. Eight different flights arriving at five different airports. He shook his head. Nicole had no intention of making this easy.

      “And here’s the report on Miss Reed’s car. I asked Murray at city’s lab to put a rush on the preliminary and fax me a copy ASAP.” Mildred smiled with satisfaction. “He came through, as usual.”

      Ian returned her smile. Mildred had been with the agency since the beginning, when Victoria’s husband had been in charge. The vivacious middle-aged woman knew the Chicago PD like the back of her hand, and had something on anyone who was anybody employed there.

      “Thank you, Mildred.” A frown creased Ian’s brow as he scanned the relatively brief preliminary report. No timer. No evidence of an internal detonation device. Remote-detonated. The bomb had been remote-detonated by someone watching Nicole’s car, Ian concluded. But why had they not waited until she was in the car?

      “Call Kruger,” he instructed Mildred. “I need a ride to D.C.”

      “Yes sir.” Mildred turned back at the door. “I’ll ask him to be ready within the hour.”

      “Good,” Ian agreed.

      “You think she’d go back to D.C.?” Martinez gingerly fingered the tightly taped bridge of his nose.

      “Yes, I do.”

      “I’ll drop you at the airport,” Martinez offered. “That is if you don’t mind me driving your car, mine’s still in the shop.”

      “That’s fine.” Ian estimated that Victoria’s private jet could have him in D.C. a good half hour before the earliest commercial flight on Nicole’s schedule. He stood, mentally ticking off the items he would need to take with him. He would need to stop by his place and pick up another weapon and a change of clothes. Nicole probably left his Glock in the Explorer, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. He glanced at Martinez. “Let’s go. I’ll confirm the itinerary with Kruger en route.”

      “After I drop you off, I’ll look for the Explorer,” Martinez grumbled as they headed toward the elevators. “I can’t believe she stole my brother’s truck.” Martinez shook his head disgustedly. “And, man, I’ve never had my butt kicked so badly. By a female at that.” He flashed Ian a look of dismay. “I hope you’re not going to tell anybody about that.”

      Ian stabbed the elevator call button, then shot the man next to him an amused look. “Don’t worry, Martinez, your secret is safe with me.”

      “Mr. Michaels, wait!”

      Ian paused before getting onto the elevator. Amy Wells, the newest member of the agency’s clerical staff, hurried toward him, those long, coppery curls bouncing around her shoulders.

      “Miss Wells,” he greeted patiently, though impatience pounded through his veins. He had to get to D.C. before Nicole did.

      “Mildred needs your signature before you leave since Mrs. Colby won’t be back for another week.” Amy indicated the report she held and offered him a pen. She blushed, clearly intimidated at having to speak to him much less request anything of him.

      Ian produced a smile. “No problem.” He quickly penned his official signature.

      “Gosh, Martinez, what happened to you?” Amy asked abruptly, all wide-eyed innocence.

      Before Martinez could come up with a suitable explanation, Ian leaned toward her and whispered, “It’s a secret.” He touched his lips with one finger in a gesture of silence and stepped inside the elevator. The doors closed, leaving Miss Wells staring in dismay after them. Martinez wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.

      NICOLE PARKED her car down the street from her apartment building. Darkness shrouded the old neighborhood she had called home for five years now. Only forty minutes from her office, the small Virginia community boasted quiet living with all the conveniences of the city. Nicole sighed, then closed her eyes for a long moment. She was tired. Her trip to Chicago had been a fiasco, and a colossal waste of precious time. Nicole glanced at the digital clock on her dash. Only two hours until her flight to Atlanta. She had to get a move on. She had wasted enough time stopping to purchase something to wear besides Ian’s sweats.

      “Suck it up, Reed,” she scolded herself as she scanned the deserted street once more. Walking into that building and then her dark apartment was not something she looked forward to—especially since the only other tenant was probably out of town as usual. But what choice did she have? She needed clothes and cash, and new ID. She had left her purse at Ian’s. No way would she have chanced going back to get it. Her next flight was reserved under an alias. She certainly couldn’t go anywhere broke and without clean ID. It would take lots of hard cash to do what she had to do. Replanting a witness wasn’t cheap. Or easy. Not to mention the fact that she was doing this on her own. She knew better than to risk anyone at the agency finding out. And she definitely couldn’t hang around D.C. long. It wouldn’t take the man—or woman, she amended—long to track her back here. Ian wouldn’t be far behind her. And he would be royally ticked off. Nicole decided she had better be gone when he arrived.

      Her gaze sweeping left to right, then back, Nicole emerged from the car. She adjusted the baseball cap she had crammed her hair into, then rolled her head to loosen up her neck. God she was tense. Her right hand slid instinctively to her weapon she had retrieved from an airport locker. She tucked it more firmly into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back. The denim jacket she wore concealed it well. She could have taken it to Chicago with her, but hadn’t wanted to go through the hassle with airport authorities. So she had left the weapon and her bureau ID in a locker. She had left Ian’s Glock СКАЧАТЬ