Chosen Target

CHOSEN TARGET By Melanie Atkins

Triskelion Publishing 15327 W. Becker Lane Surprise, AZ 85379 Copyright 2006 Melanie Atkins

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher except, where permitted by law. ISBN 1-933874-29-5

Publisher’s Note. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to a person or persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

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PROLOGUE

“Hello, beautiful.” The deep male voice curled around Jadan Calloway like a predatory snake. She whirled and found herself staring into the most riveting pair of tawny eyes she’d ever seen. The man was well over six feet tall, with clipped chestnut hair and a muscular build. His grin radiated sexuality. “You can’t be here alone.” “Oh, please.” She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was hitting on her. Just what she needed in her present pity-party mood. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to pick me up. This is turning out to be one hell of a dismal night.” “Thanks a lot.” He frowned. Jadan’s cheeks flamed. She’d hurt his feelings. But hey, why should she care? He was a bar prowler, a man who picked up women for one night stands, plucked their fruit, and dumped them at the curb the next morning with the words, ‘I’ll call you’ ringing in their ears. Yeah, right. She turned her back on him and focused on the pulsing music trying to take over her brain. He edged around her and leaned against the bar. His citrus scented cologne bit at her nose. “What are you drinking?” “It doesn’t matter. I was just leaving.” She set her glass on the bar with a sharp click. He leaned closer. “Bad day?” “You could say that.” She folded her arms. It was her thirty-first birthday, and she was celebrating all alone. Again. Why she hadn’t gone home, she didn’t know. She’d be much happier there in her reclusive little world. Going out on the town wasn’t her idea of fun. Still, she studied him. He was really handsome. She wet her lips and watched his nostrils flare as he watched the slow movement of her tongue. How typical. She tried to keep her tone civil. “Actually, tonight is worse than today. I’m beat.” “That’s too bad.” He smiled again and his chiseled face gleamed. His hair was closecropped, and his shoulders were a mile wide. “Bet I could make you feel better.” “Oh really?” She raised her eyebrows. This should be good. “And just how do you propose to do that?” “By making hot, passionate love with you.” “Wow, you’re good,” she said, laying on the sarcasm. Yet despite her misgivings, a sliver of desire slid through her. Maybe it was the alcohol she’d consumed, but she couldn’t

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help thinking what a birthday present that would be, especially since this year had been so damned depressing. New Orleans was still rebuilding after a major hurricane had almost wiped it off the map. Still, she knew she’d stay safer if she told him to get lost. She gave him a weak smile. “But I’m afraid you’re not very original.” “Maybe not, but I’m damned good. Try me, baby.” The heated look in his eyes made her shiver. “You’re a total stranger.” “That’s the idea.” “Anonymity turns you on?” “You’d better believe it.” He leaned closer, and she drew in more tangy citrus. His mesmerizing tiger eyes gleamed with passion. He trailed his finger down her arm, making her shiver. “You’re a beautiful woman, and I wanna get laid. I need to get laid. One plus one equals two. You do the math.” Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever given her such a blatant proposition. She gulped. Not once in her thirty-one years. “I don’t think so.” He caught her hand. “Then dance with me.” “No.” She pulled her hand free. Touching him made her want him, and that scared her to death. The thought of dancing with him, swaying with him on the shadowy dance floor— The band announced a break, and a new rocking Rob Thomas song blasted through the speakers. The man grabbed her hand again, leaned close, and shouted in her ear. “I won’t take no for an answer, honey. Not now.” She caved. What could happen during a fast song, anyway? Jadan let him hold her hand as she followed him onto the floor. The bright lights thrilled her and the pounding music made her want to move. He grabbed her waist and his tawny eyes twinkled as he jammed his pelvis to hers, making her hyper aware of the ridge of hot steel behind his fly. She gasped and tried to pull away, but his hard arms drew her closer. “Relax, honey. Go with the music. I’m not gonna hurt you.” A sharp gasp slipped past her lips. He wasn’t hurting her, but the sexy way he pushed against her made her go liquid inside. She didn’t want him to stop. For once, she told herself, just let yourself go. Quit trying to be the good girl. Mama and Daddy are gone. You don’t have to please anyone but yourself. The lights swirled around her and molten heat rose in her cheeks. She found herself pressed against him from ankles to chin. His warm, virile scent filled her nostrils. It was like a dream. And like a dream, it ended the second the music stopped and she snapped awake. What in hell was she doing? She pushed at his chest. “Whoa there, honey,” he said. His hot breath bathed her ear. “Stay here. Listen to the music.” A slow, sexy song bellowed from the speakers. Jadan shivered as he pulled her closer, until she became hyper aware of the rapid thudding of his heart, his raspy breathing, and her own anxiety, rising to a fever pitch. “You know this feels right,” he said softly, his lips brushing her ear. “Ummm.” Another shiver coursed through her, this one reaching her trembling core. Every nerve ending in her body tingled. Never had she felt so wanton and wanting. She knew the alcohol she’d consumed played a part in her primal desire. His hands roamed down her back, and

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they began to sway, back and forth, mimicking the sex act. She felt his heat, smelled his need. Felt his hunger. Her body ached. “It can be better than this,” he whispered, urging her toward the edge of the dance floor. “My truck’s in the corner of the parking lot. We can do it right there.” “In your truck?” An odd yearning curled around her heart and wouldn’t let go. Her body throbbed to the slow beat of the music. “I don’t even know your name.” “You don’t need to know who I am, honey,” he whispered, his hot mouth trailing kisses down her neck. His whiskey-laced breath was warm and alluring. “Haven’t you ever wanted mind-blowing, anonymous sex with a total stranger?” “No,” Jadan said, trying to wedge her hands between them. She’d always been the good girl. The one most likely to…have a boring life. But she had to admit she had imagined doing it with a stranger—in her darkest fantasies. Fantasies no one else knew about. She stared at his broad chest. Her mouth watered. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and he felt delicious pushed against her. Picturing him sans clothes made her struggle for air. He pressed a searing kiss to her cheek. “Come with me, beautiful. I just bought a new pack of condoms. We can go all night if we want.” “All night?” Jadan’s breathing quickened. She looked up into his eyes, and the thread of rebellion she’d carried through her college years and into the world of work—but had never used—grew into a tapestry of mammoth proportions. She wanted this man. Bad. The lights swirled around her. Music filled her ears. So why couldn’t she have him? Just this once, why couldn’t she take a walk on the wild side? Her two sisters had enjoyed their flings, as had her roommate. Jadan decided she was due, especially after the year she’d had. He urged her to the edge of the floor. “What do you say?” “Okay.” She raised her chin. Her body felt fluid and loose. “I’ll do it. Let’s go.” Before she chickened out. “All right,” he said with a wide grin. He squeezed her fingers. “Come with me.” She gripped her tiny purse and tried to appear nonchalant as they left the dance floor. As if she did this every night. The sights and sounds around her suddenly seemed amplified. She looked at the aging hippy band as they came back on stage and began belting out a Doors tune from the ‘60’s. She smelled the pungent odor of cigar smoke. And glanced at the swelling college crowd holding a drinking contest at the end of the bar. Jadan halted. He moved closer to her. “Don’t get skittish on me, sweetheart.” He slid his arm around her. His touch was comforting, yet alarming. “We aren’t even outside yet. I want you bad.” “I-I’ve never done anything like this before in my life,” she said with a gulp. Maybe if she had another drink. Her pulse rate zipped to over a hundred. The band grew louder, and he leaned close. “What’d you say?” “I said, ‘I’ve never done this before.’” At that very moment, the band stopped playing and her words echoed around her like they’d been shouted through a microphone. Heads turned. Eyebrows flew up. Jadan wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

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“Don’t worry about it,” he said. His face was solemn as he pulled her toward the door. “In a few minutes, the only thing you’ll be thinking about is how hard and fast we can do it.” “Oh my God.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Moments later, they stood in the dark parking lot beside his enormous red Chevy Silverado pickup. It was a dual-cab, with wide bench seats, four-wheel drive, and black leather interior. Classy. He rubbed his chest like maybe it hurt. Then he opened the door for her and helped her inside. Jadan’s nerves peaked as she slid across the seat. The truck smelled brand new. This fellow either had money, or he’d stolen the damned truck. She prayed it was the former. He sneezed. With an oath, he pulled out a folded napkin. He wiped his nose, tossed it into a trash bag in the truck, and climbed in beside her. Then he closed the door, draping them both in eerie shadows. Her heart rate tripled. “Come here, baby,” he said, his voice a low rasp. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. His tawny eyes glittered. He was going to kiss her. Jadan opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. His lips captured hers in a kiss so carnal she nearly went over the edge. His tongue filled her mouth and his hands were everywhere, touching her breasts, stroking her back, exploring the musky dampness between her legs. Even with her jeans on, she grew wet and eager. He pinched one of her nipples just hard enough to hurt. “Oh, stop it!” She cried, batting at his hand. Laughing huskily, he dragged his mouth from hers and rained kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Her skin tingled as fire skittered along her skin. Suddenly her blouse and jeans were open and his hands were inside them. Kneading, rubbing, fondling. His breath shot out in fevered gasps, and he begged her to touch him. “Where?” she asked, cupping his bulging fly. “Here?” “Oh, yeah, baby.” He groaned and ground himself against her hand. She couldn’t stop the sexy giggle that bubbled from her lips. She’d never felt so free or so wild. This man was everything she’d ever wanted in a lover, and more. And she didn’t even know his name. “Don’t stop there.” He nibbled her ear. His hand slipped inside her jeans and massaged her most sensitive spot. “Does that feel good?” “Oh, yes,” Jadan said, her body convulsing with need. Her hands shook as she struggled with his zipper. Finally it rasped down and his erection sprang free. It was steelyhard and smooth, with a single bead of creamy white moisture poised on its tip. She gripped him hard, and he moaned. Acting on impulse, she slid to her knees on the floor and took him in her mouth. He pushed her head away. “Whoa! Let’s use a condom, honey,” he said, his voice cracking. He fished in his pocket and pulled one out. Her face grew hot with embarrassment. How stupid was she, anyway? He hurriedly slid on the condom, then put his hands behind his head and smiled down at her. “Suck away.”

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Jadan shot him a wicked grin and complied. He was hot and huge in her mouth. His hands grabbed her head and guided her as she slurped him. His deep groans of pleasure filled the cab. The windows fogged over. Finally, he dragged her off him. His breathing was uneven and his hands were sweaty on her cheeks. He massaged the center of his chest. “That’s enough,” he said, still breathless. He pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him. “I want to come inside you.” “Oh, yes,” she said, her pulse throbbing in her ears. “Hurry up.” He lifted her up and shoved her down on his rock-hard shaft. She gasped at the sudden scorching heat that filled her to bursting. She tried to climb off his lap, but he held her fast and pushed deeper inside her. She gripped his shoulders. “Easy, baby.” His warm breath bathed her ear. “You can take me. Just relax.” “Ooh,” Jadan cried, closing her eyes. Her tender skin burned with his intense penetration. He moved her up and down, slowly at first, then faster and faster, his hands holding her legs wide. He drove deeper into her with each tremendous thrust. Jadan moaned as pleasure sky-rocketed through her, quickly displacing the momentary pain. She slid her hands beneath his shirt and dragged it off over his head. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, and thumbed the throbbing nub between her legs. Jadan arched her back and leaned into his hand. She couldn’t believe this was happening—with a stranger in the cab of a pickup in Bangle’s busy parking lot. The thought made her go wild. She peered down into her lover’s eyes and he gave her a rapacious grin. Faster and faster they climbed, until she soared over the edge and bright lights exploded like fireworks behind her eyes. His simultaneous release jarred her and seemed to go on and on. Her heart set a wild tempo as he convulsed within her and her body milked him dry. She collapsed against him and struggled to catch her breath. He held her tight for a very long time. Neither of them moved. Finally, though, his grip on her loosened and his head lolled against her shoulder. Feeling him slip from her body, she slid off his lap and kissed his shadowy cheek. He fell over sideways and hit the door. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worry skittering through her. His eyes were closed. He wasn’t moving. She shook his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” He didn’t answer. Jadan frowned at his broad chest. He wasn’t breathing. Fear blossomed inside her. She grabbed his wrist and checked his pulse. Nothing. She snatched her jeans and shirt from the truck floor and threw them on. Her hair fell into her eyes as she opened the door and dashed into the center of the parking lot. “Please! Help!” she shouted, desperately looking around for someone—anyone—who might come to her aid. “Help me. Anyone!” Music pulsed from the building, but no one was around. Not even the ancient bluesuited security guard. Cell phone. She ran back to the passenger side of the truck and searched frantically for her purse. She found it under the seat. Her hands shook as she dug it out and punched 911.

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“Do you know CPR?” the dispatcher asked. “No, but I’ve seen it done on TV.” Jadan tried to remember what she’d seen. Why hadn’t she ever taken the course? She swallowed. “Should I do chest compressions? Breathe into his mouth?” “It’s better if you don’t if you aren’t certified. I have an ambulance en route, ETA one minute.” “I didn’t kill him.” Jadan’s voice quivered. She heard a distant siren, growing louder. The dispatcher paused. “I didn’t say you did, ma’am.” Jadan’s skin crawled as she waited. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. She banded her arms around her middle, until curiosity got the better of her and she peeked inside the truck. He was just as she’d left him, slumped against the driver’s side door, his chin resting on his bare chest. She wanted to tuck him back inside his pants, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch him. Her face burned with shame. She’d have to tell the police everything, and admit she’d just had wild, terrific sex with a total stranger. A powerful combination of fear, regret, and self-loathing pounded through her. How could she have been so unbelievably irresponsible?

CHAPTER ONE

Three weeks later “Thank you, sir,” Jadan flashed a big smile at the lanky gray-haired gentleman at the counter as she handed him a Venti Whole Milk Latte. “Hope you’ll come back to see us.” “You know I will, sweetheart.” The old man winked at her. “You make the best coffee in New Orleans.” She grinned as he turned away. Professor Jones was a notorious flirt, and one of her best customers. She had grown to like him in the few months Jadan’s Java had been open. After the hurricane had demolished most of the city, she had jumped on a low interest loan during the rebuilding phase and had snapped up a piece of prime real estate near the University of New Orleans campus. So far, her shop was a big success. Cool early February air rushed inside as the professor left. She picked up a clean towel and eyed the clock on the wall. Almost nine o’clock, Thursday’s closing time, and the shop was empty. There was one parade tonight, uptown. The closer they got to Mardi Gras, the slower her business became in the evenings. It had bothered her at first, but tonight she discovered she didn’t care. She’d been working twelve hour days since the shop opened,

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doing her best to carve a niche for herself. And it was working. Problem was, it was also wearing her out. With a jaw-cracking yawn, she began wiping down the counters. “Whoa, Jadan, check this out.” Stacey Boyd, the twenty-something college student she had recently hired, came out of the men’s room holding a black object. “I found this cool PDA on the sink.” “Let me see.” Jadan tossed down the cloth and met her employee at the end of the counter. Stacy handed her the device. “I don’t see a name on it.” “Maybe it has info inside.” Jadan looked it over. It was a Palm Tungsten C. She switched it on and pulled out the stylus. A monthly calendar popped up. February. The first day of the month was highlighted. Curious, she clicked on it. Beans delivered, it said. Beans? She went back to the monthly calendar and clicked on the next marked day—Tuesday, February eleventh. D-Day. She frowned. The eleventh was Mardi Gras Day, the culmination of carnival season in New Orleans—the second since the hurricane, and it was going to be the biggest party the city had ever seen. Parades had started in late January. The bell on back of the glass door jingled. Jadan kept her eyes on the PDA’s bright display. “Customer,” Stacy murmured. She bumped Jadan’s arm. “Give it to me.” “No.” Jadan laughed and stepped away. “I’ve got him. You go clock out. I’ll close up tonight.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.” She waved the girl away. “Go on.” Her eyes bright, Stacy marched into the back room. Jadan turned to see a swarthy man with a dark mole on his cheek standing just inside the shop. His dark gray overcoat flapped as the door shut behind him. She smiled and put down the stylus. “Hello, sir. You’re just in time for our last cup of the day. We’re about to close.” “I am not here for coffee,” he said, his dark eyes zeroing in on the small device in her hand. His countenance darkened. “You have found my PDA.” “Oh, yes.” She held it out. “I was looking for a name, but I only found a calendar.” “You looked at it?” He stalked over and snatched the device away from her. His expression turned frightening as he examined it. “You should not have done that.” “I was only trying to find out who it belongs to.” She raised her eyebrows. “In case you—” “It is not your business!” His face turned black with rage. “Well, damn. I’m sorry.” Alarm slid through her and she backed away. “I never meant to pry.” “Shut up, harlot,” he growled. He sharpened his gaze and leaned over the counter. “You have seen important information. Therefore, you must die.” He pulled out a sleek black pistol.

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Terror filled Jadan. This wasn’t happening. Her heart pounded. She stumbled backwards. “Stacy, call 911!” “Shut your filthy mouth!” The man waved his pistol. “Be still!” “No!” Jadan spun and bolted for the back room. A loud crack rent the air. The frozen Chai tea machine exploded in front of her. She screamed and threw herself on the floor in a pool of icy tea. “Jadan?” Stacy’s shout gave her hope. “My God. Are you all right?” “Stay there,” Jadan yelled. “Call 911! Hurry!” “I did.” Jadan covered her head. The bell on the back of the door dinged. Had the man left? She was afraid to look. Sirens pierced the air. She couldn’t breathe. Sticky tea molded her blouse to her skin. Yet she was alive. For now. ***** Panic seized Ali Zouri as he raced from the coffee shop and jumped into his car. His fellow operatives would be furious to learn he’d lost the PDA. And once they discovered the woman who’d found it still breathed, he was a dead man. She had seen his calendar. The other one had called the police. He would be recognized. His body shook as he clenched the icy steering wheel and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine of the tiny Ford Focus hiccupped once. Twice. The shriek of sirens curled the hairs on his arms. In his haste, he fumbled with the key. A sharp curse spilled from his lips. Finally, to his relief, the engine sputtered to life. Ali stomped the gas, and the vehicle fishtailed away from the curb. He had left the coffee shop after his earlier meeting and had stopped at his girlfriend’s apartment. He hadn’t missed the PDA until he’d started home. Traffic had been heavy, and the cold air had won its battle with the car’s tired heater. He slapped the wheel. He hated this place, even though the city had been reborn. New Orleans was still too damp in winter and too sultry in summer. And always filled with sin. To his mind, that was what caused the great calamity. Eternal judgment. At least now the streets near the University of New Orleans campus were nearly deserted. No cops were around. In a hurry to reach his rented room, he rolled through three red lights and sped down a one-way street. He would pack his bag and leave town. He had no other choice if he wanted to survive. ***** New Orleans Police Department Investigative Unit Commander Cole McAlister slammed out of his car beside Jadan’s Java and looked around. The city had changed since he’d left for his stint in Iraq thirteen months ago. The flood after the hurricane had decimated the place, but citizens were rebuilding. This area around the UNO campus seemed to be

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thriving, with what looked like a bookstore going up next door to the coffee shop. The odors of paint and new lumber mingled with the enticing smell of freshly brewed java. He shook off the jet lag still dogging him and approached Slade Montgomery, his good friend and most trusted detective, who stood near the coffee shop’s glass door jotting notes in a small spiral notebook. “What’ve we got?” Slade looked up. “An attempted murder.” “At least it’s not another body.” Murders were up this month. Cole ducked beneath the yellow crime scene tape fluttering in the chilly breeze and stuck his hands in his pockets. Slade’s mouth curved. “You might change your tune once you learn who almost took a bullet.” “Why would I do that?” “It’s Jadan Calloway.” Jadan. The woman who had been with Kent the night he’d died. Anger rose up to choke Cole. Kent had been his twin. His confidant. His best friend. He turned and peered through the metal-framed door. A pretty blond woman sat at a table near the counter, her hands wrapped around a colorful mug as she stared blankly into space. Her slim beauty hit Cole like a fist to the gut. Slade put a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, now. She’s clean.” “I read your report.” “I couldn’t hold her on it.” He dropped his hand. “She had no priors, nothing that told me she did it, no evidence that she knew Kent before that night. And now—” “Someone tried to kill her.” “Looks like it.” “Shit.” Cole battled the urge to shove the door open and rail at her. Instead, he blinked back tears and stared out into the night. Kent had been his own flesh and blood. They’d shared the same DNA, the same egg, for God’s sake. Cole had been older by five minutes. But Kent had always been the most daring. That point had been driven home by his untimely death. Hot sex in his truck in a parking lot with a stranger. He set his jaw. “I need to talk to her.” “Figured you’d want to.” Slade tucked his notebook into his coat pocket. “Need my help?” “No, thanks.” Cole shook his head. “I can handle it.” Slade bobbed his head. “Alright. See you tomorrow.” “Bright and early.” He paused until Slade climbed into his car and sped away. Cole’s heart jack-hammered as he turned and opened the door. A bell jangled. Jadan looked up, and terror streaked across her face. A dark-haired girl who looked to be in her early twenties came out from the back and stood behind the counter with her arms crossed. “What’s the matter, Ms. Calloway?” Cole quirked his lips. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Jadan’s hands closed around her mug. Her throat jerked. “Wh-who are you?” “McAlister.” Her eyes flew wide. “Excuse me?”

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“My first name’s Cole.” He flashed a badge. “New Orleans PD.” “You and Kent—” Her voice broke. “He was my twin.” Cole gave her a brutal smile and stuffed his ID back into his pocket. She was white as a sheet, but even with fear in her eyes she was gorgeous, with flawless skin and a pouting mouth made for kissing. He should have known she’d be a knockout. Kent had great taste in women. “Kent died three weeks ago.” Jadan seemed to squirm beneath his systematic perusal. “Why haven’t I met you?” “I’ve been out of the country with the military.” His shoulders sagged involuntarily. “I missed Kent’s funeral.” “I’m sorry.” “You should be.” Cole was unable to keep the animosity from his voice. He stepped closer to her. “My brother’s dead. And based on the events of that night, I can only assume it’s because of you.” “Now, wait a minute, Officer,” the dark-haired girl said, dropping her arms. Cole looked up. He’d forgotten she was there. “It’s Commander, ma’am.” “Whatever,” she said sharply. She looked like she might fly over the counter and attack him. “It’s all right, Stacy. Go home.” Jadan came to her feet. The girl glared at Cole. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I’ll be fine.” The girl turned and stalked into the back, the furious gaze she threw over her shoulder telling Cole she didn’t trust him one iota. That was just fine with him. Jadan hugged herself. “Stacy has nothing to do with any of this.” “Did she witness what happened tonight?” “No. She was in the back.” A fine tremor rolled through her, and Cole suddenly had the urge to comfort her. He tamped it down and leveled a fierce glare her way. “You say the guy took a shot at you.” “He did. But he hit my frozen chai machine instead.” She turned and pointed at the ruined device behind her. The cold liquid that had been inside it now covered the walls and the floor. “All I did was look at his PDA.” “I’m sure you explained that to my detective.” “Of course.” Cole met her eyes, which seemed to change from green, to gold, to brown, unnerving him. He pressed his lips together. “Just like you explained everything about Kent’s death.” “Exactly.” Her voice was curt, but uncertainty flashed across her face. “Detective Montgomery came to the scene then, too. He questioned me at length. More than once. And yes, it’s true—Kent died while he was with me. But I didn’t cause his death.” “You spent a lot of time with him that night.” “It was consensual.” “I have no doubt about that.” Grief smoldered inside Cole. It was always there, threatening to flare to life and consume him. “My brother had a healthy sex drive.” “That night was a first for me.” Jadan’s face reddened.

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Cole lifted his eyebrows. “You were a virgin?” “No.” She blinked. “I’d never been with a stranger before. I don’t…do that sort of thing.” “Sure you don’t.” Cole said, unable to keep the derision from his tone. “What I want to know is, why Kent? Did you choose him at random, or go to Bangles specifically for him?” “Neither one,” Jadan snapped. “He picked me up.” Cole’s hard gaze pinned her. Slade had said she was beautiful. Smart. And clean as a whistle. My ass, he thought. Still, she had a wholesomeness about her that warred with the video of that night he had in his mind. “You don't look like the type who'd do a guy in a parking lot. You didn't insist on a room?” The color in her face went up a notch. “Kent was . . . in a hurry. “I can see why.” Hoping to humiliate her, Cole’s let his gaze roam down her body. She had curves in all the right places. Hell, she was hot. She squirmed. “Look, I just needed an escape. I didn’t expect him to die on me.” “Of course not.” He ground his teeth. She’d wanted a good time. To use Kent like a sex toy, then toss him aside. And sure, Kent’s hunger had played a part. He’d been the proverbial male alley cat, screwing any girl who would have him. Cole couldn’t deny that about his brother. But it didn’t help him ignore the fury boiling inside him like oil in a cauldron. “Even so, I’d watch my back. Ms. Calloway.” Her eyes rounded. “Is that a threat?” “Take it any way you want.” He sent her a hard look. Then he marched out the door.

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CHAPTER TWO

Jadan couldn’t sleep. Instead, she tossed and turned in her lonely bed, her nerves frayed by the sight of that slug whizzing by her head and slamming into her frozen chai machine. No one had ever shot at her before. She pulled the covers up to her neck. The first detective to question her had assured her he’d have extra patrols watching her house until the shooter was arrested. She had no way of knowing if he had, but she hoped they were outside right now, watching. The man with the PDA had been so angry. She couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t learn where she lived and come after her. Why his calendar was so damned important, she didn’t know. But she did know she didn’t want to become a statistic. New Orleans had been reborn with a surprisingly low crime rate, and she would like to keep it that way. She closed her eyes, only to be greeted by the vision of Commander Cole McAlister that was now seared into her brain. A cold shiver raised goose bumps on her skin. He looked just like Kent, only with haunted, hollow eyes. Guilt crashed over her in a chilling wave. She hadn’t killed Kent. Yet even thinking logically, she couldn’t help but feel responsible for his untimely death. He’d died after making love to her. She rolled onto her side and stared into the darkness. Lovemaking had never come naturally to her, thanks to her prim upbringing. Her night with Kent had broken down all her barriers and shown her just how good sex could be. A loud thump echoed through the apartment. Her heart skipped a beat. She held the covers to her chest and bolted up in bed. Silence. The clock beside the bed clicked off the seconds in brilliant fluorescent blue as she sat still, listening. She heard the gentle whir of the ceiling fan above her, the refrigerator’s familiar hum. A dog barking down the street. Afraid not to check the rest of the apartment, Jadan threw off the covers and scrambled from the bed. The carpet was cool beneath her feet. She snatched up her robe and shrugged it on. Her shoulders immediately felt warmer. Too bad it didn’t thaw the ice in her bones. Her heart pounding, she picked up the metal rod she kept by her bed just in case and clutched it in both trembling hands. “You won’t get me without a fight,” she muttered to no one. Without turning on the lights, she slipped into the living room and edged around the couch. Nothing looked out of place. She was on the second floor, but that didn’t mean she

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was safe. Her skin tingled as she checked the door and the two windows flanking it. All were locked. She turned and eyed the entrance to the kitchen. It was inky and foreboding. Jadan gulped and crept toward it. The piece of metal felt heavy in her hand. She took two steps, and a soft thud echoed through the room. Her heart rate soared. A shadowy blur darkened the doorway, and disappeared. Jadan’s breathing quickened. She tightened her grip on the rod. Without taking her eyes off the kitchen, she snatched the hand-held phone from the end table and stuck it in the pocket of her robe. Go in there and look around, she told herself. Before you lose your nerve. Two steps. Three. She flipped on the kitchen light. A soft meow broke the silence, and Tigger, her gray and black striped tabby cat, leapt onto the island with a muted thump. Jadan almost dropped the rod. The cat yowled again and began to purr. “Tigger. Damn it.” She sagged back against the wall. “I ought to beat your ass.” A soft creak from the patio door made her look past the cat. A tall shadow dropped low. She gasped and raised the metal bar. The cat meowed. “Shut up!” she said sharply. She dashed for the doors just in time to see a dark figure leap over the railing and disappear. Her heart skipped a beat. Someone had been on the patio. Tigger’s persistent yowl startled her. She went cold. He shouldn’t be inside. He hadn’t been at the door when she’d come home, so she’d come in alone and had promptly forgotten about him. Too much had been on her mind. That meant the prowler had been inside her apartment. Or at the very least, he’d opened the patio door. Two floors up, and she still wasn’t safe. Terror rippled through her as she checked the lock. It was open. With shaking fingers, she clicked it home and pulled out the phone. “911, what is your emergency?” “Someone—someone broke into my apartment.” Jadan swallowed. “It may be related to a shooting earlier this evening at Jadan’s Java on Harwood Drive, near UNO. I need to see Detective Montgomery.” No way was she asking for Cole McAlister. He was her worst nightmare ***** Cole leaned back in his new leather chair. The morning had barely begun, and he was already bone-tired. Stress, jet lag, and the anger he had suppressed the night before came together to sap what little strength he had after thirteen months in the desert. He needed a solid month of R & R, but with Kent dying so unexpectedly, he simply didn’t have the time. He had to get to the bottom of his brother’s death. Despite Jadan’s denials, something wasn’t right, and he had to find out what that something was.

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He eyed Slade, who looked like he’d slept in his clothes. “Thanks for covering for me last night.” “I didn’t do it for you. Jadan asked for me.” “That doesn’t surprise me. But still, you should’ve called me when you got to her place.” “If there had been another shooting, I would’ve.” Slade quirked his mouth. “But she called about a prowler. I found no fingerprints, no footprints, and no sign of forced entry. Not a damned thing. Even though she swears the patio door was locked—and somebody let the cat in.” “Nothing was taken?” “Not at her place. At the coffee shop, the suspect took back his PDA.” Slade shook his head. “Jadan thought she was doing a good deed, and she almost died for her trouble.” “How much do you know about her?” Cole picked up a pencil and turned it over in his hand. “Could she be yanking our chain?” “I don’t think so. She was scared shitless.” “Meaning the guy was for real.” “Definitely,” Slade furrowed his brow. “He was mad as hell that she saw his calendar.” “What could be so important?” “Beans.” Cole frowned. “Excuse me?” “The entry for February first.” Slade pinned him a cool stare. “Beans delivered.” Cole paused. “As in coffee beans?” “Possibly.” “Coffee beans, coffee shop.” Cole came to his feet and started to pace. His office was only ten by twelve, so he didn’t have much room. After his stint in the desert he felt claustrophobic. He halted beside the closed glass door that held his name and rank. “There has to be some connection between Jadan and the shooter.” “She says she’s never seen him before.” “Of course she does.” Slade stood. “I’ll dig deeper if you want. Just say the word.” “No. Kent was my brother.” Cole thinned his lips. “I’ve got this one.” ***** Jadan picked up her drink, slid the bartender a hefty tip, and turned her back on the bar. She was getting antsy after getting absolutely no sleep the night before. Being shot and chasing off a prowler had that effect on her. In her mind’s eye she kept seeing that shadowy figure leap over her patio railing. The image jarred her. After she’d called 911, two uniformed officers had arrived, followed closely by Detective Montgomery. None of them found proof the prowler had been inside her apartment. She was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined it herself. Maybe she had let Tigger inside when she’d first gotten home.

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Her mind whirred with visions of the swarthy stranger pulling that gun on her, the bullet zipping by her head, and the shadowy figure on her balcony—not to mention her date with a dead man. That had been three weeks ago, but it seemed like yesterday. Coming to Bangles, or going out in public at all tonight, certainly hadn’t been her idea. Her friend, Toni Martin, had insisted she come along to celebrate Toni’s birthday, even though Jadan had told her she felt safer staying home. Toni had assured Jadan she’d never be alone, but as soon as they’d entered the bar Toni had headed to the dance floor. Jadan hadn’t seen her since. Tonight, Bangles was crowded and hot. It had ceased being her favorite hangout the night she had met her fatal date. And now, the fear bubbling through her veins made her even more uneasy. The band kicked off another retro number. She turned to see Toni heading her way with a hunky blond man in tow. “You act like you’re glued to the bar,” her friend said, flashing her pixie grin. At 5’2”, she was five inches shorter than Jadan, with a compact body and short red hair styled in a jazzy cut. Men clung to her like bees on pear blossoms. Tonight, she’d hooked up with a tall, rough-hewn guy who looked like he’d stepped off the pages of GQ Magazine. “I’m going home with Paul tonight. For my birthday.” “Oh Toni, please don’t.” Jadan’s stomach sank. She’d been afraid this would happen, and she didn’t like it one bit. Going home alone was not a good idea. Not tonight, after all that had happened. “You promised we’d spend our time here looking at guys, not picking them up.” “Sorry, honey.” Toni squeezed her arm. “I just can’t let this one get away.” “That’s your problem. You never let any of them get away,” Jadan snapped, unable to keep the ice from her voice. Her nerves thrummed as she watched Toni lift her shoulder in a shrug, and then waltz away with her rangy hunk of man. This was turning into a carbon copy of her worst nightmare. She shouldn’t have let Toni talk her into coming with her tonight. What a huge mistake. Angry with herself, she lifted her frozen margarita and took a healthy sip. She’d finish her drink, head home, lock the doors, and sit with her pistol by her side. No point sitting here watching couples sway on the dance floor. Bangles was known for its great dance music, but dancing—like sex—was no good without a partner. And tonight, she had no desire for one. The band struck up a lousy rendition of her favorite Rolling Stones’ classic, Satisfaction. Jadan laughed sadly at the irony of it as she finished off her drink. “Trolling for another victim?” The deep southern twang sent a shiver up Jadan’s spine. She spun to see Commander Cole McAlister staring at her with those mocha eyes. That was what made him different from Kent, she realized. His eyes. They were tawny, just like his brother’s. Yet they turned as dark as melted chocolate when he was angry. Which seemed to be all the time. The word symmetry also came to mind as she studied him. His face was angular and chiseled, and those furious eyes were perfectly aligned. Not to mention his mouth— Heat filled her as she remembered Kent’s searing kisses. She averted her gaze.

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“Back at the scene of the crime.” Cole’s voice carried a hint of steel. “You’re one tough cookie.” “I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said. Perspiration glided down her neck. The ancient ZZ Top song blaring from the speakers made her head hurt. Or maybe it throbbed because of the troubled man standing before her. She wiped her brow. “Are you following me?” “Just wondering what you’re up to.” Cole’s assessing gaze bored a hole through her. She resisted the urge to flinch. “Someone broke into my apartment last night. I needed a diversion.” “Looking for a quick lay?” “No.” She glared at him. “How did you know I was here?” “It’s my job to know. You’re a suspect in a murder investigation.” “Detective Montgomery said there’s no evidence linking me to Kent’s death.” Alarm slid through her, and she crossed her arms. “Why are you doing this?” “Kent was my brother. I won’t quit dogging you until I learn the truth.” “I’ve told your detectives all I know.” “All you think you know,” he said. The bartender came up, and Cole ordered a glass of club soda. She scowled at him when the bartender turned away. “What do you mean by that?” “I’d like to ask you a few more questions, see if you remember anything new.” “Do you really think that’s necessary?” “What do you think?” He gave her a sharp look. Perhaps it would be for the best. If she could convince him once and for all that she hadn’t caused Kent’s death, maybe he would leave her alone. Okay. She would do it—only not at Bangles. “Not here.” She glanced around. The club was too loud, and way too public. “We should talk in private.” “Private, as in my truck?” Cole’s icy glower chilled her as he took his club soda from the bartender and downed it in one long gulp. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. Fury wrapped around her like a smothering blanket. She longed to hurl her margarita in his face. “That is not what I meant.” She couldn’t do it. Not after having Kent die in her arms, having a bullet fired at her, and having someone break into her home. In the past three weeks, she’d had enough danger to last a lifetime. “I want to talk someplace bright, where there are other people, but we’ll still have a modicum of privacy.” “That’s a tall order.” He drew his brows together. “It’s easier to talk in my vehicle.” “No way. I said I’d talk. But I won’t get into another vehicle with a strange man.” She wanted to brain him. How could he even suggest it after reading the police reports? She tucked her purse beneath her arm. “I know where we can talk in private, but still around people.” “Do you mean Jadan’s Java?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “No!” She couldn’t take him there. It was her sanctuary. At least it had been, until last night. He’d already invaded that special place. Her nerves sang with new tension, and she swallowed. “Let’s meet at the new diner on Third Street. Pearl’s Palace.”

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“Fine.” Cole’s face was grim. “I’ll follow you. What are you driving?” “A white Toyota Camry.” “Lead on.” He motioned toward the door. She started off, her high heels clipping in time with her hammering heart. Cole followed her in silence. The oldies band on stage played a raspy Janis Joplin tune, heightening her sense of déjà vu. A chill raced down her spine. They had played the same tune the night Kent had been murdered. Cole held the door open and watched the lethal sway of Jadan Calloway’s slim hips as she crossed the dimly lit parking lot. Kent did have fantastic taste. He had to give his brother that. But Kent hadn’t deserved to die because he was an alley cat. It didn’t matter that Cole had spent most of his life getting his brother out of one spot or another. He should be here now, enjoying the jazzy nightlife. Not locked in some stone cold vault in one of New Orleans’ refurbished cemeteries. Remembering the stark loneliness of that eerie line of tombs, Cole battled tears. If only his National Guard unit hadn’t been delayed, he would have attended his brother’s funeral and helped in the preliminary investigation of his death. Following Jadan to the diner in his battered SUV, he recalled the report Slade had given him when he stepped off the plane. Kent had worked that day at Vanguard Shipping, supervising the unloading of a shipment of cargo onto the docks. He’d gone home after work, showered, shaved, and headed to Bangles for some much needed R and R. There he’d met Jadan, taken her for a quick “ride” in his truck, and then died abruptly in her arms. No wounds had marred his body, no blood was found at the scene, and Jadan had sworn Kent had been fine only moments before his death, except for one sneeze. Autopsy results had been inconclusive, and his toxicology screens had been delayed by a tremendous backlog. Then there had been the mysterious shooting at Jadan’s Java the night before, and the alleged break-in at her apartment. Cole had to wonder if the two events were related to Kent’s murder. His hands tightened on the wheel as he followed her into the parking lot of Pearl’s Palace, a brand new retro diner built in gaudy 1950’s style. Pearl herself adorned the brightly lit yellow and red sign, her name emblazoned across her flowing plaid skirt. Sandra Dee on hormones. Jadan chose a semi-secluded booth in the back in full view of the kitchen staff. Cole drew in the mouthwatering aroma of fresh French fries. The place was cozy, in a be-bop sort of way. He had to admit that a big, juicy cheeseburger would taste awesome after being overseas. He slid into the booth opposite Jadan. Her blond hair framed her smooth oval face, and her hazel eyes snapped with defiance. “At least in this greasy spoon we can hear each other,” he said, hoping to placate her. She entwined her hands on the scarred gray table and stared at him. “Yes. Bangles isn’t a good place for conversation.” “Unless you’re whispering sweet nothings in your lover’s ear.”

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“Kent’s words weren’t sweet. They were graphic.” Jadan’s cheeks darkened. “He told me what he wanted, and I was foolish enough to play along. I’d had too much to drink—” “And you figured no one would get hurt if you two had a quick romp,” Cole said. “You’d have some fun, then head home for the night. Wasn’t that what you had in mind?” “I’ve already given Detective Montgomery my statement.” Her throat jerked. “Didn’t you read it? You said last night that you had.” “I said a lot of things last night,” he said, as if he regretted some of them. “But I need to know—did you have anything to eat or drink at Bangles the night Kent died?” “Only a frozen margarita, like tonight.” She frowned. “Kent had a bourbon and water.” “And appetizers,” Cole said. She sent him a quizzical look, and he shrugged. “The summary of his autopsy listed his stomach contents.” “Oh.” She blanched. “It doesn’t make any sense.” Cole clenched his hands in frustration. “Maybe once his toxicology screens come back, we’ll know more.” “Why do you need those?” She furrowed her brow. Then her eyes widened. “Oh my god! You think he was poisoned?” “I can’t say. Did you get sick that night?” “No. At least, not until after.” She sat up straight. “My stomach was queasy when the police arrived, but I think it was just my nerves. I’ve never seen anyone die before. And Kent just seemed so very—” “Healthy?” Cole cocked a brow. She nodded. “Except for that one sneeze. And his throat seemed a bit raspy.” A gum-popping waitress halted beside their table. Jadan asked for a diet drink. Cole’s mouth watered as he ordered the cheeseburger he’d been craving for thirteen long months. The last time he’d talked to Kent, his brother had offered to box up a burger and mail it to him. Cole smiled sadly. Kent would have done it too, if he hadn’t died. Jadan sent him a cool look. “You must think it’s safe to eat with me at the table.” “Touché,” he said. She was quick, and that challenged him. Cole studied her more closely. Kent always had possessed an eye for beauty, as evidenced by the long string of women he’d slept with through the years. Jadan’s skin was flawless, and her mouth was full and welcoming. Yet her troubled hazel eyes, which appeared to change colors with her environment, unnerved him. He cleared his throat. “Normally I don’t second guess my detectives. But this time—” Cole thought about Kent, and grief poured over him in a chilling wave. “It’s personal.” “Like I told you last night, I don’t have anything to hide. Ask away.” “Fine.” He nodded briskly. “Why were you at Bangles that night?” “My best friend Toni and I were celebrating my birthday, and the success of my shop.” The waitress set their sodas on the table. Jadan grabbed hers and took a sip. Cole did the same, and the cool drink soothed him. “Had you ever met Kent before that night?” “No. Never. And like I told you, it was the first time I’ve ever let a stranger pick me up.” And she would never do it again. Cole could almost hear her say it. His brother’s death had shaken her. He’d gathered that last night, but he didn’t want to believe it. It would

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be better if Jadan Calloway was a cold, merciless bitch who killed men for sport. Instead, she was the exact opposite. Cole stabbed a hand through his hair. She took another sip of her soda. “Did Kent have a girlfriend?” “Not a steady one.” Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. Not unless his brother had changed his life drastically in the past thirteen months. Once an alley cat, always an alley cat. He shook his head. “Kent and I were polar opposites. He liked to play the field.” “And you don’t?” She scrutinized him. It made him uncomfortable. “You’re his mirror image, except for the way your eyes look when you’re mad.” She’d caught the only physical difference between them. Cole was impressed, and a little wary. “He was my brother. But we were different people.” “You loved him.” “Yeah,” Cole said, the word coming out thick as gravy. To his relief, the waitress chose that moment to bring his food. He locked his gaze on the giant cheeseburger dripping with grease. It smelled delicious. He picked up a French fry and shoved it into his mouth. Hot. Jadan toyed with her sweating glass. “Are you questioning anyone else, or just me?” “Everyone who had any contact with Kent that day.” He picked up his burger and took a big bite. It tasted as good as it looked. “I went by Vanguard Shipping, where he was dock supervisor, but I didn’t learn much. No one knew anything. Either that, or they weren’t talking.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Shipping. Do they receive goods from other countries?” “Sure.” He frowned. “Why do you ask?” “Maybe Kent came into contact with something poisonous on one of the ships.” She drew her brows together. “You know, from another country. Maybe some weird spider, a toxic bug, or maybe even a deadly plant. They do exist, you know.” “I suppose it’s possible.” Cole took another couple of bites and wiped his mouth. Damn it. Slade was right, Jadan was sharp as a tack. Why hadn’t he thought to check the shipping manifests? Irked with himself, he sat back. “You’d make a damned good cop.” “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that.” He snatched up another fry. Aware of her watching him, he put it in his mouth and chewed it defiantly. Big mistake. Instead of fortifying his anger, meeting her steady gaze only served to fire his banked passion. Thirteen months in the desert had left him aching, and she only made his hunger grow. He finished his burger in three bites. “I need to get home.” “I’d like to help you find Kent’s killer.” “Tell you what.” He motioned for the check and pasted on a grim expression. He didn’t want to encourage her. He intended to find out who had murdered Kent, and move on. His life was lonely, but he was happy living by himself. Wasn’t he? He met her anxious gaze. “I’ll call you if I need you.” She jotted her home and cell phone numbers on a napkin and handed it to him as they slid from the booth. He paid the check, and they headed outside. “Good night.” Seeming almost reluctant to leave, she stepped off the curb.

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He didn’t stop her. Even though his hands itched to touch her creamy skin and find out just what his brother had found so fascinating about her—besides the obvious, of course. Jadan turned and angled across the street toward her car. She was still stunned by Cole’s close resemblance to Kent. That face had haunted her dreams for the past three weeks. Now she was sure it would take years for her to erase it from the video screen inside her head. A shiver coursed through her. Cole McAlister was an unassailable force. She crossed the center line and the roar of an engine made her halt. She turned to see a dark sedan whip around the corner and squeal straight toward her, its bright lights blinding her. Surprise rippled through her. “Jadan!” A strapping body slammed into her and threw her to the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs. Something popped beside her head and kept popping as the air filled with dust and dirt and bits of glass. Debris peppered her body. Gunshots! Jadan screamed and wrapped her arms around her head. Cole's hard body covered hers and she lay there with her face on the cool pavement, cringing, afraid the next pop would hit one of them. Abruptly, the firing ceased. Cole rolled off her and pulled out his weapon as the car sped away. His sharp curse burned her ears. Jadan scrambled to her knees just in time to glimpse the driver’s dark face. Her heart skipped a beat. It was the man from the coffee shop. Cole spat another expletive and lowered his pistol. His face was red. He looked like he might be in shock. “Cole?” She grabbed his arm. “Are you all right?” “Huh?” He looked at her and blinked. She frowned. “Did they hit you?” “No.” He took a deep breath and seemed to get his bearings. “Did I hurt you when I threw you down?” Jadan shook her head. She was sore, but she would live. He held out his hand to help her up. She ignored it and got up on her own, a vision of the swarthy man with a large mole on his cheek, the same one who’d shot at her in Jadan’s Java, glaring at her from the window of that big car. “It was him,” she whispered. “The same man who shot at me and broke into my apartment.” “Are you sure?” His face skeptical and still a little pale, Cole re-holstered his pistol. Jadan’s hands shook as she brushed off her clothes. “Yes. He had a big mole on his cheek, and dark skin. He tried to kill me.” Cole gripped her arm. “Tell me exactly what he said to you last night.” “That since I’d seen his calendar, I would have to die.” She swallowed. “All it said was beans. And something about Mardi Gras. He called it D-Day.” “That might be referring to an attack of some sort.” Another one. Cole’s lips thinned as he struggled to shake off the lingering effects of the drive-by shooting.

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A startling wave of déjà vu swept over him, and suddenly he was back in that parking lot with Leah. It was her birthday, and they had just pulled up at Monte’s Crab Shack and climbed out of the car. He had her present in his pocket—a beautiful heart-shaped diamond pendant she’d been hinting at for weeks—when the men drove up beside them and opened fire, just like tonight. “Cole?” Jadan’s voice reverberated in his head. She took his hand. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” He forced himself to snap back to the present. “What were we talking about?” “The calendar on the PDA.” “Oh, yeah.” He forced himself to recall her words. “You said Beans. Could they be referring to coffee beans?” “I have no idea, but they’d better not mess with my shop.” A fierce glint entered her eyes. Her gritty determination ambushed Cole. He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. No way was he letting her burrow under his skin like she had Kent’s. Cole had fallen hard with Leah, and her murder had broken his heart. He wasn’t going through that again. Not ever. So if tonight was a harbinger of things to come, he needed to get as far away from Jadan as possible—and stay there. She eyed him with curiosity. “Do you have any leads?” “No.” He shook off his disturbing memories of Leah and refocused on the investigation. “That’s what bothers me.” That, plus the possibility that the attempts on Jadan’s life were somehow related to his brother’s death. She touched his arm. “Thank you for saving my life.” “You’re welcome.” The words caught in his throat. He’d saved Jadan, a total stranger who might have had a hand in killing his brother, but he hadn’t been able to save the woman he’d loved. How was that for irony? “If you hadn’t been here, I’d be dead.” Too bad he couldn’t have been there for Leah. He locked his gaze on Jadan’s ashen face and pulled out his cell phone. “I have to call this in.” “Of course.” She sniffed. “Tell them to hurry.” Three minutes later, two black-and-whites pulled into Pearl’s gravel parking lot. The officers got out and huddled with Cole. Soon after, a crime scene van and a sleek black sedan arrived, and Jadan gave her statement not once but twice, first to a young patrolman, then again to Detective Montgomery. “You’re sure it was the same man who picked up the PDA?” Slade’s brow furrowed. Jadan nodded. “Yes. I’m positive.” “Okay.” He scrawled a note on his pocket-sized pad. “I have your description from last night, but I need to know what you saw tonight.” “It’s the same description. The man had black hair, a dark complexion, and angry dark eyes. And he had the same big mole on his left cheek. Right here.” She touched her face just below her left eye. “I know racial profiling isn’t considered politically correct, but he looked like a foreigner to me.”

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“Jadan said there was a reference to D-Day on that calendar. On Mardi Gras Day.” Cole looked at Slade. “You don’t think—” “Anything’s possible.” “Are you talking about terrorism?” The blood drained from Jadan’s face. Her uncle had lost his life only a year ago in a vicious attack on an American compound in Saudi Arabia. The thought that terrorists could be operating on her home turf here in New Orleans iced her blood. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” Cole said. “Do you remember seeing anything else on that PDA?” “I only saw this month. February,” Jadan said, frantically scrolling through the jumbled images in her brain. She drew in a shaky breath. “Mardi Gras, what he called D-Day, was in bold.” Slade’s pen halted and he fixed Cole with a hard gaze. “That would be the perfect time for them to strike. We need to contact Homeland Security and the FBI, just in case.” “I’ll call the Superintendent.” Cole pulled out his cell and stepped away from them. Watching him talk animatedly with his boss, Jadan felt a spike of indignation added to her fear. Terrorists might have used her coffee shop as a meeting place—and had even taken a shot at her when they thought she had interfered with their operation. That made her furious. She turned to Slade. “What do we do now?” “You need protection.” He motioned toward Cole. “Talk to Cole. He’ll help you.” She nodded. Yes, he would. But he would hate every minute of it. A shudder rippled down her spine. She turned and watched a member of the Crime Scene Unit photograph her bullet-riddled Camry. Fear and rage boiled up inside her as she imagined what those bullets might have done to her body had Cole not been here to protect her. Cole ended his call and strode over to them. “Williams is calling the Feds.” Slade stuffed his pad and pen into his pocket. “I’ll get the uniforms started on a canvass of the area, to try and identify the vehicle.” “It was a late model Ford Focus, either dark blue or black. But I couldn’t get the plate number. The tag was covered with mud.” Cole turned to Jadan. “Did you see it?” “No. My view was blocked by a very big, very heavy body.” Which was also very hard, very protective and very sexy. She swallowed. Cole shot her an edgy glare, sharp with awareness and want. But then his face changed, and he was back to all business. “The superintendent will notify the rest of the department and the state police about the possibility of an attack.” Cole put his hand on Jadan’s arm, and his touch seared her to the bone. She immediately felt warmer, but not as warm as she’d felt with him lying on top of her on that cold asphalt. His weight had been shocking but highly erotic, even though bullets had peppered the ground all around them. Heat suffused her face, and she turned her focus to the danger surrounding them. “Maybe you should set up surveillance in my coffee shop, in case the man comes back.” “Good idea.” Cole nodded. “Would you recognize him?”

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“Definitely,” she said, sure that she would. His frightening image was burned into her brain. When she shut her eyes, all she could see was his swarthy coloring and that peculiar mole. Her nerves jumped. “May I go home now?” “No.” Cole dropped his hand. “It’s too dangerous.” “I was afraid of that.” “There’s no way to get you into a safe house tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” “You could put her up in a motel.” Slade eyed Cole. “No way.” Cole shook his head. “Remember what happened to you and Marisa?” “That was a different situation.” “Not so different. People were out to kill her, too.” Cole smiled grimly. Slade had taken the woman who was now his wife, ADA Marisa Cooper Montgomery, to a motel in an effort to protect her from the Russian mob, but the mob had found them and beat Slade to a bloody pulp. “Well, then. I’m fresh out of ideas.” Slade clapped Cole on the back. “You’re on your own with this one, pal.” He turned and approached a trio of cops standing beside the ruined Camry. Cole’s gut clenched. He hadn’t been able to save Leah, but maybe he could save Jadan. He met her worried gaze. “You’ll have to stay at my place tonight. We have no other choice.” “I have a friend in Metairie,” Jadan said, her words spilling over each other. “I’m sure Tina will let me stay with her.” Cole sent her a hard look. “Do you really want to put your friend in danger?” “Of course not.” Jadan glanced away. Against his better judgment, Cole was intrigued by her. He could tell she craved the familiar coziness of her own apartment, where she could lock the doors and bury herself beneath the covers on her bed until the threat had passed. Yet he couldn’t let her stay there. He made a fist. “No matter how bad you want it, you won’t be safe at home or at a friend’s house. I’ll get someone to go by and feed your cat.” “Thank you.” She gaped at him like she was surprised by his thoughtfulness. Hell, so was he. And he could tell she was worried. She frowned. “Since those men saw us together tonight—won’t they put two and two together when I’m not home and look for me at your place, too?” “They might, if they put some thought into it. But I’m a cop, remember? Trust me?” She studied him intently. He couldn’t tell if she trusted him or not. And frankly, he didn’t really care. All he knew was that he couldn’t let another woman die on his watch. He leaned closer and drew in her sweet vanilla scent. His pulse sped up. “I’m not gonna jump you, if that’s what has you scared. I’m not like my brother. I can keep my hands to myself.” “I’m sure you can,” she said much too quickly. She edged back a step. Impatience ate at Cole’s nerves. She either trusted him, or she didn’t. He furrowed his brow. “Look, I’m not staying here all night. Are you going with me, or aren’t you?” “No, thank you.” She lifted her chin in defiance, just like Leah had. “I’ll fend for myself.”

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CHAPTER THREE

“I’m glad you changed your mind about coming here.” Cole’s gut twisted as he followed her up the sidewalk to the ornate front door of his two-story brick home. He’d sleep better without worrying about her. “I promise you’ll be safe. And Officer O’Malley will take good care of Tigger. She loves cats, and doesn’t mind keeping him for as long as you need her to.” “I appreciate that.” She pulled her coat tight around herself, as if holding up a shield. He got the message, too. Look, but don’t touch. His fingers itched to do just that, but he didn’t dare follow through. She’d been with Kent the night he died. And besides, he was bringing Jadan here for her protection. That was reason enough for him to keep his distance. He needed to learn more about this woman. Not just for his sake, but out of respect for his brother’s memory. Cole watched Jadan’s face change as they entered his remodeled house on the edge of the Garden District. It hadn’t taken any water during the flood, and for that he was thankful. The wind damage to the roof had been easily fixed and he’d been able to move back in with the first wave of citizens returning to The Big Easy. Jadan’s beautiful hazel eyes swept the intricate tapestries he had hung on the walls, the ancient woven rug, and his snug leather sofa. He liked being comfortable, and he believed in living in style. Even if he had bought every single item he owned for a song at either a yard sale or at an estate auction. “Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys on the table in the entryway and angling for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” “Got any coffee?” she asked, running her hand over the back of the couch. He smiled. “Yeah, but it’s probably not as good as what you sell. You like chicory?” “No.” She made a face. “Do you?” “Yeah, but I don’t drink coffee of any kind at night any more. Keeps me awake.” “I shouldn’t have any either, then.” She folded her arms. “My nerves are rattled enough.” “I imagine so.” He eyed her pale skin and the dark circles forming beneath her eyes. Her trembling hands. And once again, he found himself wanting to comfort her. No. He’d done that with Leah, and he’d fallen in love. Never again. Her lips curved in a sad smile. “Still, I’d love a cup.” “No problem.” He swallowed, hard. Coffee. Right. Jadan met his eyes. “Have you ever been shot at before?” “Yeah.” The night Leah had died. A dull ache started in the center of his heart. And overseas. “I don’t like it.”

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To keep from stepping close to her, he gestured toward the sofa. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.” She obeyed, and he headed for the coffee maker. Anything to keep his hands busy. Bringing her here was a mistake. He was drawn to her and he had no idea why, given what had happened between her and Kent—except that when he was with her, the dark cloud surrounding him seemed to lift. Ever since Leah’s death, Cole had mourned in gloomy silence. And now, with Kent dead too, his pain was only magnified. Jadan’s inner light illuminated that part of himself he didn’t want to see. The part roiling in self pity. He pulled out two mugs and drummed his fingers on the tile countertop. The delicious aroma floating up from the brewing coffee made his mouth water despite his vow not to drink any. He drew in a deep breath and poked his head into the living room. “Cream and sugar?” “Yes, please.” Jadan sat with her feet curled beneath her on the sofa, like a prim little girl sitting on her grandmother’s couch, her shining shoulder-length blond hair framing her oval face. He itched to touch her, to let her know that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t let himself. The last time he’d gotten involved with a woman, she’d ended up dead. This time, he would do all he could to keep Jadan safe while concentrating on finding Kent’s killer. He dragged his gaze away from her and returned to the kitchen. ***** Ali Zouri strained against the ropes binding his numb wrists and ankles to the hard ladderback chair. The taut cords bit into his raw flesh, and goose bumps covered his burning skin. He had only now regained control of his muscles. Tarik and Mikhail, acting on orders from Rashad Al-jouri, their highest ranking cell member, had caught him and dragged him into this tiny room, beaten him, and ripped off his shirt. Then they’d strapped some sort of weird belt high around his waist and tied him up. Next had come a bucket of chilled water, poured over his head while Tarik laughed. Mikhail had hummed softly to himself as he had tightened the ropes binding Ali until he cried out in pain. Ali realized something even worse was about to happen when both of them stepped away from him. In growing horror, he watched them glance down to make sure their feet were out of the water. Tarik, his eyes gleaming, pulled a small gadget from his pocket and pushed a button. A powerful electric shock passed from the belt into Ali’s kidneys, stunning him with unbelievable pain. His bladder let go and his body convulsed. He screamed. Tarik and Mikhail laughed. Then they left him alone in the dark to contemplate his slow, painful death. Another icy shiver slid over Ali’s skin, making his muscles seize and his teeth rattle. He actually preferred death to this frigid hell.

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They’d caught him before he’d left New Orleans. They watched him all the time. One of them had followed him and had seen him rip the small device from the woman’s hands, then fire at her. They’d witnessed the anger and fear in his eyes when he had missed. They’d followed him when he ran. And they knew. He had given them away. Miraculously, they had given him a second chance and he had fired at the woman again outside Pearl’s Diner. He’d had help that time. Yet he had missed again, and she still lived. So now, his time was up. No more chances—only pain and humble death. The gag in his mouth cut the corners of his lips. His tongue stuck to the cottony material. He longed for a drink of water, but he was trapped. The only liquid in the room had sluiced down over his body and pooled on the floor along with the urine that now soaked the legs of his jeans. Tears sprang to his eyes. He was a grown man, not a child. But he couldn’t stop crying. Not when he was enduring torture no man should have to endure. Why, oh why had he ever let himself get involved with these dangerous men? He had been a good American until he had betrayed his new country out of greed. The sad part was that he had known better. The men he worked with were ruthless thugs. Ali struggled against the ropes. It was no use. A loud thump from outside froze him in place. His ears perked up and cold dread filled his body. His captors had returned. The door swung open and Tarik, Rashad, and Mikhail stepped into the room. Tarik turned on the single light bulb swinging over Ali’s head. Ali’s heart pounded. No. “How are you, my friend?” Rashad asked, grabbing a handful of Ali’s hair and yanking his head backwards. That left Ali’s throat exposed. He swallowed painfully. “We will make you a little less comfortable, and then send a painful message to the harlot who pried into our business, thanks to your incredible stupidity.” He nodded at Tarik. “Teach him a lesson, my son.” Tarik pulled the black gadget from his pocket and caressed it in one trembling hand. “You and Mikhail must first step back. I don’t want to injure you as well.” Rashad let go of Ali’s hair and moved away from him. “Wait!” Mikhail said, dragging a brimming bucket of water to Ali’s side. He poured the icy liquid over Ali’s head, soaking his body all over again. Water ran down into his eyes and ears and flowed into his open pants. Setting down the bucket, Mikhail snickered. “That will make the shock more intense. Maybe he will repent his sins.” “No one in this group can afford to be so careless,” Rashad said, his dark eyes flashing with contempt. “Shock him ten times. I want to watch him writhe. I worship his screams.” The three of them stepped back toward the open door. Ali tensed. His hell had only just begun. ***** Jadan’s cell phone rang. She jerked awake and struggled to make sense of her surroundings. The beautiful black wrought-iron bed in which she had burrowed was surrounded by creamy yellow walls, stark white curtains, and priceless antique furniture. The air smelled of lemons.

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Then it hit her. She was in Cole’s quaint two-story house in the French Quarter, hiding because a terrorist—or someone—was trying to kill her. Her cell phone shrilled again, its urgent bleat crawling across her frayed nerves. She scooped it off the nightstand and punched TALK. “Hello?” “Jadan Calloway?” a deep male voice asked. “Yes. This is Jadan,” she said. Alarm slid through her. She sat up and pulled the covers with her. The soft cotton of her oversized T-shirt—Cole’s shirt—pooled at the small of her back. “Who is this?” “Detective Kevin Jacobs with NOPD’s Sixth District. I’m at your coffee shop, Jadan’s Java.” “Oh, my God. What’s wrong?” Her heart skipped a beat. She threw off the covers and leapt from the bed. The wooden floor was icy to her bare feet. Jadan’s Java was her pride and joy, the reason for her existence since her parents had died in a freak boating accident and she had lost their home and all her possessions in the hurricane. “Has there been a fire? A breakin?” “No fire, but someone jimmied the rear door and trashed the place.” “Oh, no,” she said, her stomach sinking. “How bad is it?” “Pretty bad.” Detective Jacobs cleared his throat. “There was some graffiti, too. They scrawled the words You will die, bitch on the walls of your office.” “Bastards.” Fear grabbed her by the throat. Graffiti seemed more like a childish prank than the work of seasoned terrorists. But maybe, since they’d failed to kill her, they’d decided to destroy her business instead. Or maybe they’d come back looking for her, and had become angry when they’d found the shop empty. “Ma’am, Detective Montgomery told me about the shooting at your shop earlier this week. Do you believe the incidents may be related?” “It’s certainly possible.” She nervously dragged a hand through her tangled hair. “The same man shot at me again last night in the parking lot of Pearl’s Palace, the new diner near UNO.” “You were with Commander McAlister?” “Yes, that’s right.” she said, surprised. “Do you need to speak with him? I’m staying at his house right now. For my protection.” “I heard,” Jacobs answered gruffly. “Yes, ma’am. Please put him on. It’s important.” “Just a minute.” She hurried toward the door. The delicious odor of bacon cooking wafted into the room. She found Cole in the kitchen, working his way through a heaping plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. She handed him the cell phone. “It’s Detective Jacobs. Those men trashed my shop.” He muttered a sharp curse and left the table. “McAlister.” Jadan’s stomach rumbled, and she suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the day before. She sat down in Cole’s chair, picked up his fork, and began to eat. The bacon and eggs were delicious. Before she knew it, she had cleaned his plate and gone back for more. “You ate your breakfast, and mine, too.” His incredulous voice carried over the crunch of bacon between her teeth. He set the phone on the counter.

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She drained the rest of his orange juice. Then she peeked up at him, and her cheeks grew hot. “Sorry. I was starving.” “That’s all you’re getting. Food has to wait.” “We’re going to my shop.” He nodded. “Jacobs has a couple of uniforms watching the place until we get there. You should be safe with me.” “Okay,” she said. The searing intensity of his warm amber eyes left an impression on her heart. He was irked with her, and rightly so. But still, he was just doing his job. Forcing herself to walk past him to the sink, she couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders and lean hips. The way his jeans cupped his perfect ass. Her cell phone shrilled, and she nearly dropped the plate. Cole took it and the glass from her and placed them in the sink. She snatched up the phone. “Hello?” “Jadan, this is Stacy.” Her employee’s voice was frantic. “I just got to the shop and it has crime scene tape all over it. The cops won’t let me in.” “Oh, Stacy, I’m so sorry. I haven’t had a chance to call you.” Jadan rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck. “Some people broke in last night and made a mess inside. I’m on my way down there right now.” “I was so afraid you were in there. That the man from the other night had come back for you and had shot you—” “No. I’m fine.” “Thank heavens,” Stacy said, relief evident in her voice. “But this is so awful. I won’t be able to work until you reopen, and I need the cash for my car insurance.” She hesitated. “You will reopen, won’t you?” “You bet I will. Whoever did this is not going to scare me away. I’ll open up again as soon as I can.” If the culprits didn’t kill me first. Jadan’s heart clenched at the thought. “Good,” Stacy said. “What do you want me to do?” “Wait right there. We’ll talk when I get to the shop.” Jadan hung up. Cole filled the juice glass with water. “We’d better hurry before she leaves.” “What about your breakfast?” Jadan felt guilty for eating his food. He was a big man, and he probably had needed it far more than she did. “You must still be hungry.” “You just feel like a heel because you ate my eggs.” He nudged her arm. “Come on. You can feed me something at your shop.” “How can I?” She frowned. “It’s a crime scene.” “I’m sure our guys are about done taking prints.” Cole pulled out his keys. “It’ll be safe enough for you to feed me.” She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Then by all means, let’s go.” The trip to Jadan’s Java took only fifteen minutes. Two police cars sat by the curb where Cole had parked two nights before. Climbing from his SUV in the parking lot beside the shop, Jadan discovered that Stacy was right. Crime scene tape fluttered across the door like discarded Christmas ribbon. A small crowd of UNO students had gathered across the street, and Jadan recognized some of her regular customers among them. One of her morning employees, Nik Kaleesh, stood apart from the others, gnawing on his blunt fingernails. For the first time since she’d

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hired him over a month ago, she was stunned by his ethnicity. Her pulse sped up. Now was not the time to become a racist. Just because the shooter had appeared to be of foreign descent didn’t mean all men of such lineage were criminals. Nik was a friend. “What’s wrong?” Cole halted beside her. She shook her head. “Nothing.” “Looks like more than nothing to me.” He followed her gaze. “Who’s he?” “Nik Kaleesh.” She reeled from Cole’s nearness. “He works for me.” “We’ll need records of all your employees, and the names of the customers you know.” “You think one of them might have done this?” “Not necessarily, but we have to follow all leads.” He urged her toward the door. “This is gonna be tough. Seeing your place like this. Are you sure you’re ready to go inside?” “Yes.” She braced herself for the sight of her precious shop in ruins. But she wasn’t prepared for the level of destruction she saw when she walked through the door. Every cup was broken, her classic jars of coffee beans were smashed on the scored concrete floor, and milk had been sprayed on the walls. Tables and chairs were overturned. The wrecked cash register sat at an odd angle. And worst of all, her grandmother’s antique mirror, which had hung over the espresso machine, had been shattered into a million tiny shards of glass. Just like Jadan’s heart. Unable to take another step, she sank down on the floor amid scattered sugar packets, stir sticks, and ripped artificial sweetener envelopes. This place had been not only her dream, but her refuge from the pain of losing her parents. In here, people made friends over cups of coffee. They studied, read, ate, relaxed, and laughed together. Jadan had felt safe here day and night. Now, for the second time in two days, her sanctuary had been violated. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t let them win. These men, whoever they were, would not defeat her. She would clean up the place and start over—and dare them to attack her again. The determined look on Jadan’s face touched a chord deep inside Cole. Like Leah, she was a gutsy, intelligent woman. The success of her fledgling business proved that. Witnessing her bravado in the face of such destruction made him admire her even more, and that made him angry. He couldn’t let himself get involved—especially with the woman who might have caused his brother’s death. He knelt beside her. “They really did a number on this place.” “What about my apartment?” A lone tear rolled down her cheek, and she dashed it away. “Do you think they hit it, too?” “I’ve sent a couple of uniforms over to check it out.” “Thank you.” She fisted her hands. “I’m not letting these bastards win.” “I didn’t figure you would.” Her eyes flashed with fresh determination. “The only way they’ll stop me is to kill me.” “They won’t get a chance to do that.” He stood and helped her up. “Jadan,” a female voice cried. “You’re here.”

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Cole looked up to see the girl who’d wanted to scratch his eyes out the night before approaching the crime scene tape outside the door. She sent him a wary look. “May I come in?” “Yeah,” Cole said. “CSU’s done in here.” “Hi, Stacy.” Jadan wrapped her friend in a tight bear hug. “I’m so sorry you have to see the place like this.” “Me, too. But I’m so glad we weren’t here when it happened.” “That’s a good point.” Cole released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The image of what might have happened had Jadan and/or Stacy been here when the tangos— possible terrorists—had broken in was not a pleasant one. He’d seen enough death and destruction for one lifetime. His cell phone rang, and he stepped away to answer it. On the line was one of the officers he’d sent to check out Jadan’s apartment. The man reported that all was well. Cole rubbed his brow. “Thanks. I’ve set up surveillance on the building. I’d appreciate it if you fellows would drive by every hour or so for a little extra insurance.” The officer agreed, and Cole ended the call. He stepped back over to where Jadan stood with Stacy, filling her in on the second attempt on her life. Once she’d finished, Jadan gave the girl another tight hug and sent her home. Jadan turned to Cole. “She needs to stay as far away from me as possible until this is settled.” “I agree.” He indicated the shop. “Want to see the rest of the place?” “No, but I know I have to.” She bit her lip. He took her elbow and guided her around the counter. Coffee beans, glass, and ceramic shards crunched beneath their feet. Jadan examined the dust-covered espresso machine with a sad smile. “At least this wasn’t damaged.” “That’s something.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Where’d you find the PDA?” “Stacy found it in the men’s room.” She turned to him. “Why?” “Just curious.” He resisted the urge to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She had a becoming blush on her cheeks, and it was damned disconcerting. He forced himself to concentrate on the investigation—and the fact that she reminded him so much of Leah. “Did you describe the man to our sketch artist?” “Of course.” She folded her arms. “You didn’t see the sketch?” “No,” he said, frowning. “It wasn’t with the incident report. I’ll have to check with Slade. And just so you’ll know, I’ve arranged for surveillance and hourly drive bys at your apartment. I’ll get one of those fellows to get it to you once I locate it.” She nodded. “I’m glad they’ll be watching my apartment. That makes me feel a little better.” She rubbed her arms. “But I'd feel even safer if I had a gun.” “That’s not a good idea.” “Come on, Cole. I know how this works. The police will keep an eye on me for a day or two, then move on to something more pressing. That's when the guy will sneak into my bedroom and slit my throat." “I’m not gonna let that happen.”

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“How can you prevent it? We can’t be together 24/7.” “Until we catch the guys behind this, you and I will be as close as Siamese twins,” he said, not knowing how in hell he’d manage to follow through on that wild promise. Somehow, he had to find a way. He’d just spent a year in the desert ensuring his country stayed safe, and he’d be damned if he’d give in now—no matter how much it made his heart hurt. “Come on. Let’s go check the back.” “Fine.” She led him into her tiny office. At the door, she halted abruptly and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my god. Look!” His eyes raked the damaged room. “He’s definitely sending you a statement.” “He wants me dead.” Jadan’s voice broke. Yeah, and Jadan was quaking in her shoes. You will die, bitch. He shook his head at the words spray-painted in large letters beside the arched window. She had a good reason to be afraid. The sentence was too formal for the typical graffiti artist. More than likely, it had been written by someone without a good command of English. Jadan raised her chin, and her eyes grew fierce. “They won’t get away with this. I don’t care who they are or where they come from. I won’t let them.” “Once I make sure the Crime Scene Unit is satisfied they have everything they need, I’ll find a cleaning crew to help you make things right.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “You don’t have to do that.” “Yeah, I do.” He had a friend in the business, but even if that weren’t the case, he would have found someone to help her. Nobody deserved to have to deal with something like this alone. Not even Jadan. ***** Ali couldn’t open his eyes. Every movement was excruciating. It even hurt to breathe. He was no longer aware of the cold. The only sensation he felt was pain in every part of his body. He sat motionless in the dark, dreading his tormentors’ return. Horrified by the thought of more jolts of electricity surging through his tingling body, burning his skin and turning his organs to mush. He was already peeing blood. One more session with the electrical device and he would be dead. The door suddenly opened, and Ali cringed. The shocking glare of white light from the room beyond seared his corneas. Tears wet his cheeks. “Hello, my friend,” Tarik said, nudging Ali with his boot. He didn’t move, not a millimeter. Tarik laughed heartily. “I would say he is well done.” “What is it the Americans say?” Mikhail asked, his black eyes darting to the blood on Ali’s thigh. “He is toast.” “Cut him loose.” “Are you sure?” “He can’t take any more. He is a woman.” Tarik bumped Ali’s leg again. “See? He bleeds.”

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“We have shocked him too many times.” “He will heal.” Tarik spat on the floor. “Until next time.” Mikhail pulled out a knife and stepped around to the back of the chair. Ali felt a tug as his former friend sliced through the duct tape binding his wrists. His arms fell limp at his sides. He would have fallen out of the chair if Mikhail hadn’t grabbed his arm. He cut through the tape around Ali’s ankles and lowered him to the floor. Ali pressed his face to the cool, clammy concrete and struggled to draw a breath. The chilly sensation was in stark contrast to the red hot pain pulsing through his body. “Take off the stun belt and leave him to wallow on the floor like an animal.” Tarik stood over Ali. “In time, he will regain use of his limbs.” Mikhail unfastened the hated belt and yanked it from beneath Ali with a grunt. Ali bit his tongue to keep from crying out in agony. Go away! Leave me alone with my pain. Tarik and Mikhail spat on him, then turned out the light and stepped toward the door. “Next time we return, he will be able to walk out of here.” Tarik put his hand on the doorknob. “Then we will send him to kill the woman. He will not fail us again.” ***** Jadan sat down heavily on Cole’s leather couch and pulled her feet up beneath her. She felt as cold and empty inside as she had the day her parents had perished. The only bright spot in the past twenty-four hours had been Cole—and he’d only been with her because he suspected her of playing a part in his brother’s death. How weird was that? Cole brought her a soda. “Feeling better?” “A little bit.” She opened the can and took a small sip. The icy liquid stung her tongue. It was lunchtime, but she didn’t feel like eating. Seeing the destruction in her shop had stolen her appetite. Cole sat down an arm’s length away. “I called my friend who owns the cleaning service and arranged for him to meet us at the shop tomorrow morning.” “That’s not soon enough.” She straightened her shoulders. “My employees need to get back to work. And my customers—I have regulars who stop in every day. They might find another place to get their coffee. Then what will happen to my business?” “You want to clean up the place today?” “As long as you stake it out. The sooner we get started, the sooner you can catch the bad guys.” He picked up his own can of soda and took a drink. “Okay. Let me make a call.” “Maybe you could put listening devices under the tables. I mean, if those men come back—and I hope they do—you can listen in on them.” Realizing the import of her words, Jadan shook with a fresh chill. “I can’t believe I just said that.” “They’ll be back all right,” Cole said. “They want you dead.” His frankness stunned her. The soda can felt like a chunk of ice in her hand. “You’re saying I’m the bait.” “No.” He shook his head. “You’re a civilian. We’ll plant a couple of plainclothes officers behind the counter. One who resembles you and another who—”

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“You can’t do that.” Jadan’s nerves hummed. She set down her drink. She wanted a hand in catching those jerks. “It’s my shop. I don’t want strangers in there making funny lattes and mixing up my coffee beans.” “It’s against procedure.” “I don’t care.” “Jadan—” “If my customers come in and I’m not behind the counter, they’ll know something is wrong.” “You could take a vacation.” “Not yet, I can’t. I just opened a few months ago. I have to get on my feet.” “Everyone is entitled to some R & R.” His dark scowl made the room seem dim. “We’ll tell them you took some time off after the incidents. Who wouldn’t understand that?” “Is that what you police call the attempts on my life? Incidents?” Anger flew through Jadan. “I was shot at and nearly killed—twice. That ranks as more than a couple of incidents in my book.” “Whoa.” He held up both hands.” “Relax.” “I’ll relax when you let me go back to work. And if my presence there helps to draw the shooter back into the shop, all the better. It’ll make it easier for you to catch him.” “I can’t let you do that.” “I need a pistol. I’ve never shot one before, but I’m sure I can learn.” Jadan looked down at her hands. The idea of firing at another human being intimidated her, but she’d do whatever it took in order to protect herself. She had no choice if she wanted to survive. She couldn’t rely on Cole, the brother of the man who’d died in her arms. “I’ll take lessons.” “That’s not necessary.” He released an aggravated breath. “I’ll teach you.” “You don’t have to do that.” “I know I don’t.” His dark eyes flashed with irritation. “But you don’t give me much choice.” She marveled at Cole’s coolness. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. “I promise to be a good student and learn to shoot.” She only hoped she could shoot straight. Unnerved by the thought of missing if she were attacked, she reached for her soda. Cole’s cell phone shrilled, and she fumbled the can. A drop of cola splashed onto her thigh. He pulled out the phone. “McAlister.” She eased her feet from beneath her and sank back against the warm leather. Tension radiated up and down her spine. She rubbed her neck. “Did you say ricin? In New Orleans? ” Cole barked into the phone, his tone incredulous. He looked at Jadan with wide, startled eyes. “How the hell—” Jadan’s mouth fell open. Ricin was a deadly poison favored by terrorists. She’d read about it, but had never expected it to turn up in her own back yard. Trepidation skittered over her itchy nerves. “Okay. Thanks.” Cole’s face drained of color and he ended the call. He turned to her. “That was my friend in the medical examiner’s office. Kent died of ricin poisoning.”

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Jadan’s blood turned to ice. “That’s the stuff Saddam Hussein used to kill his own people.” “Exactly.” Cole’s face was grim. “Terrorists love it.” “How did Kent get it? Did he swallow it?” Jadan’s mind flew back over that awful night. She’d seen Cole’s brother have a drink or two at the bar, but no one else had gotten sick or died that she knew of, including herself. And she’d been as close to Kent as a person could get. She chewed her lip. “He couldn’t have gotten it at Bangles, or I would have gotten sick too. Wouldn’t I?” “I would think so. You and everyone else in the place, depending on how the poison was disseminated,” Cole said, uncertainty plastered all over his face. “FBI and Homeland Security agents are on their way over to talk with us.” Before the words were out of his mouth, there was a knock at the door. He stood up. Jadan rose beside him and smoothed her hands over her blouse. “That must be them.” “Let me be sure.” Cole pulled out his pistol and stepped to the side of the door. “Who is it?” “FBI.” “Hold up your shield.” He slid over and peered through the tiny peephole. “Okay.” He unlocked the door and pulled it open. Two dour-faced, beefy men stood on the mat. One was tall, with thick dark hair, and the other was short, thick, and balding. He held up his identification. “Harry Baldwyn, United States Department of Homeland Security.” “Dave Logan, FBI,” said the other one, leveling his steely gaze at Cole. “We’re coordinating with NOPD’s Intelligence/Homeland Security Division. Are you Sixth District Commander Cole McAlister?” “Yes, I am.” He stepped aside. “Come in.” “We’re here about your brother’s death.” Baldwyn’s thick face was flushed. Jadan couldn’t decide if it was from the cold or the fact that he was overweight. With a nod, Cole shut the door behind the two men. “I just received a call from the ME’s office.” “Ma’am, who are you?” Logan slid his black jacket open, revealing his weapon. She stood her ground. “Jadan Calloway. I was with Kent the night he died.” “I recognize your name,” the agent said. “You were questioned by the police.” “Yes. I also took a lie detector test, which I passed with flying colors.” She squared her shoulders. No way was she letting these federal agents intimidate her. “So before you ask, I had nothing to do with his death.” “So you say.” Baldwyn eyed her with suspicion. “The detectives who questioned you that night didn’t know how Mr. McAlister died.” “Why should that matter? I didn’t kill him.” She gaped at him. “Where in hell would I get ricin?” “How did you—? “She overheard my telephone call,” Cole’s face was a thundercloud. “Stop badgering her.” Logan stepped between Cole and Agent Baldwyn and raised his hands. “Easy, Harry.”

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“I know what ricin is because I saw it on the news.” Anger bubbled up inside her and she advanced on the balding Homeland Security agent. “I am not a terrorist. I’m a loyal American.” “Someone told you the cause of death?” Logan asked Cole. “Yeah. The ME’s a friend.” “That information shouldn’t have left his office.” “I’m Kent’s brother.” Cole folded his arms. “I have a right to know how he died.” “That aside, we have to stop that leak.” “It’s not a leak. Ben knows the information is not to be disclosed. He only told me because I’d asked him to call me when he had something. It won’t leave this room.” “If the public gets wind of this, all hell will break loose,” Baldwyn growled. “We have to keep the media out of it.” “He’s right.” Logan said. “No one knows except Cole, the Medical Examiner, and me.” Jadan couldn’t believe they thought Cole might tell someone else how his brother had died. Not when the safety of the entire city was riding on his silence. “I certainly won’t say anything.” “How do you think Kent ingested the ricin?” Cole asked. “That’s not something you buy down at the corner drug store.” “That’s what we’re trying to find out.” “Kent had appetizers and a drink at Bangles, but no one else got sick.” Jadan walked back over to the sofa and sat down. “He had to have gotten it somewhere else.” “Ricin doesn’t have to be swallowed.” Baldwyn slid his hands into the pockets of his dirt brown pants. “It can also be inhaled. When ingested like that, the incubation period is approximately four to eight hours.” “Did Mr. McAlister act sick before he dropped dead?” Logan paced over to the chair to Jadan’s left and sat down. Jadan’s thoughts returned to that night, and alarm slid through her. “He sneezed once or twice, and kept rubbing his chest. I didn’t think much about it, because he said he hadn’t had any alcohol in weeks, and he’d just had a bourbon and water. I thought maybe it had given him heartburn.” “You didn’t tell me he was rubbing his chest.” Cole sat down beside her and gave her a searching look. “Was he coughing too? Sick to his stomach?” “Not that I know of.” She shrugged. “He just sneezed and massaged his chest. I figured he had allergies. It was no big deal.” “I asked you if he was sick.” “I was thinking of nausea and vomiting, not respiratory problems. They’re common in New Orleans this time of year, especially since the hurricane.” Guilt raged through her. She squeezed her hands together. “I wish I’d thought it was significant. I would have told you about it.” “Your brother worked the docks.” Logan pulled out a pad and pen and made a few notes. “We’ll test his place of employment as well as his home.” “Our guys have already gone over both with a fine-toothed comb,” Cole said. “Were they testing for ricin?”

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“No.” Cole cursed under his breath. “We had no idea.” “We’ll test for that and other bioterrorism agents.” “Good luck.” Jadan took a deep breath. “There have been two attempts on my life in the past twenty-four hours, and someone broke into my apartment. All thanks to a PDA I found in my coffee shop. Cole thought a note on its calendar looked suspicious.” Logan halted his note-taking. “Have you contacted Homeland Security?” “My boss did,” Cole said. Logan frowned at Jadan. “Will you tell me about it?” “Sure. It started when one of my employees found the PDA in the restroom.” “What’s the name of your shop?” “Jadan’s Java, on Harwood Drive. We’ve been open about three months,” Jadan said. She felt a bit self-conscious, as she related the rest of the information regarding the three frightening incidents. She ended with a description of the crude graffiti scrawled on her pristine office walls. Baldwyn frowned. “That doesn’t sound like true terrorists.” “No, it doesn’t. They usually act with more stealth.” Logan tucked his pad and pen back into his pocket. “Could be kids playing a prank.” “Or wannabes,” Cole said. “Has there been any other activity in this area?” “Not to my knowledge.” Logan shook his head. “One thing puzzles me,” Jadan said. “The calendar on the PDA mentioned a bean delivery.” “Coffee beans?” Baldwyn asked. “Castor beans.” Logan sent Baldwyn a pointed stare. “They’re used to make ricin.” Baldwyn stiffened. “We should set up surveillance at the coffee shop.” “Officers are already in place.” Cole put his hands in his pockets. “NOPD?” Logan raised his eyebrows. Cole nodded. “Our Intelligence division is helping us.” “Good.” Baldwyn folded his arms. “We’ll coordinate with them.” “We’re watching Jadan’s apartment too, just in case.” “That’s a smart move. You can’t be too careful.” Baldwyn pushed himself up and dragged out a handful of business cards. With a solemn expression, he handed one to Cole and one to Jadan. “Call me if you receive any new information, or if there’s another attempt on your life.” “I’ll be happy to, if I’m alive to call you.” Jadan tucked her card into her back pocket. She was past exhausted, but she had to get back to the shop to meet the cleaning crew. Dealing with terrorists was taxing what was left of her patience. ***** Early the next morning, Cole stood outside Jadan’s Java and watched the weary cleaning crew load mops, buckets, and solvents into their van. They’d worked all night cleaning Jadan’s shop. The Dumpster out back was now full.

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Jadan was inside talking to the painters, who had just arrived. Earlier she’d spent an hour on the telephone ordering new supplies. Stacy had come by and offered to help, but Jadan had shooed her away. Cole was glad. He didn’t want the girl in the line of fire. “The painters have finished two walls in my office.” Jadan brushed a lock of hair from her face. Dark circles underscored her hazel eyes, but her gentle beauty still hit Cole like a fist to the gut. He wouldn’t let himself react. “It’s not a big room.” “Don’t ruin my parade,” Jadan said, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I need to celebrate small victories.” “Sorry. I can’t help it.” He rubbed his neck. “I’m a cynical bastard.” “Most cops are.” “Only because folks don’t come clean with us. Like you not telling me Kent was rubbing his chest that night.” “I’ve explained to you why I didn’t.” She put her hands on her hips. “Half the population of New Orleans has a cold this time of year.” “But they’re all not dying from ricin poison.” Cole couldn’t keep the venom from his tongue, and he really didn’t mind. It helped to put distance between them. He clenched his jaw. “Let’s go inside.” “Fine.” Jadan turned on her heel and led the way back into the shop, which reeked of coffee from all the spilled beans, bleach, and fresh paint. The area was empty. Only the painters were working in the back. Jadan slipped behind the counter and halted beside the espresso machine. The wall above it was empty. She reached down and picked up what looked like some sort of the frame. “Don’t know why I saved this.” She turned to Cole. “It used to hold my grandmother’s mirror, on the wall over the espresso machine. It’s worthless now.” “Maybe not.” He ran his fingers over the intricate grooves cut into the antique wooden frame. It obviously meant a lot to her. He met her cheerless gaze. “I have a friend who cuts glass. I’m sure he does mirrors, too. Let me ask him about it.” “You wouldn’t mind?” Her eyes lit up. A jolt of desire hit him as he took the frame from her. Angry with himself for reacting, he fisted his hands around it. “Of course not. I’ll put it in my car.” He turned toward the door. Anything to get away from her. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll make you a latte.” She turned toward the espresso machine, and the world exploded. Cole dropped the frame and threw himself at Jadan, knocking her to the floor just as a blistering tongue of flame licked over them, singeing his hair but leaving his skin untouched. Debris and black smoke spewed from the back hall. Jadan’s terrified scream echoed in his ears. He heard a loud crash, and everything went black.

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CHAPTER FOUR

The deafening concussion made Ali’s ears ring. He jerked and cracked his elbow on the alley’s uneven brick wall. Pain rocketed up his arm. He smothered a groan and dropped to his knees behind a big blue Dumpster. His eyes watered as he watched three men dressed in white painters’ pants lurch from the coffee shop’s rear door in a dark plume of smoke. “Canister!” one shouted, his hands over his eyes. He sank down beside the wall. The two other men collapsed beside him and rolled around like their clothes were on fire. “It wasn’t a bomb,” the first man said. “You’re not burning. Damn it, Joe. Calm down.” He yanked out a cell phone and punched in three numbers. Ali listened as the man reported the explosion to the 911 operator. Sirens sounded in the distance. “What the hell happened?” One of the men finally stopped flopping and sat up. He shook his head groggily and rubbed his arms. “My skin tingles.” “The propane canister exploded.” “Yeah, and it burned the hair right off my arms. Look.” He lifted his right elbow. “Doesn’t hurt, but it stinks.” “Frank, did you light up that smoke after I told you not to?” The first man glared at the second. He scowled. “Hell, no. It was Warren. I saw him.” “Idiot.” The first man nudged the third one with his foot. “Get up, dumb ass. You almost killed us all.” Morons. Ali scowled at the three stupid infidels. They knew nothing about pain. He would like nothing more than to slaughter them where they sat, but it would be impossible now with sirens screaming ever closer. The men had ruined his chance at retribution, which could cost him his very soul. If Tarik and Mikhail found out about his latest failure, he would surely die. But not before he cursed them. ***** Jadan blinked against the dark smoke and shoved at Cole’s hard body. The acrid odor of melting plastic stung her nostrils. Panic filled her. Had terrorists bombed her shop?

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Her head hurt. She rubbed the back of her skull, and felt an enormous knot blooming there. She must have hit her head on the floor when Cole had tackled her. Her vision blurred, and she knew they both needed to get outside—fast. But he was so heavy. “Cole!” She shouted, putting her hands on his cheeks. “Cole! Can you hear me?” He moaned. “Wake up!” Panic filled her as she shoved at his chest. “We have to get out of here!” Sirens blared in the distance. She jammed her knees against his hard thighs and levered herself up with all her might. He didn’t budge. “Cole, please!” Her raw throat burned. Her eyes watered. She began to cough. Cole made a strangled sound. Jadan threw herself against him and finally shoved him onto the floor. A weak groan slipped from his lips as he rolled over. The sirens grew louder, until their piercing shrieks drowned out Jadan’s racing heart. She dragged her legs free and came up on all fours. Using her hands to guide her, she crawled beneath the spiral of black smoke billowing from the back and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. She ripped off the cap and dashed the icy liquid in Cole’s face. “Wake up! Damn it, Cole. You can’t die on me.” He groaned again, and his eyes flickered open. She slapped his cheeks. “Wake up! The shop is on fire!” He stared at her blankly. “There was an explosion.” She put down the water. “Can you move?” “Huh?” His eyes gradually regained their focus. He zeroed in on her face. “Yeah. I think so.” She grabbed his arm. “Then get up.” He winced and rolled onto his knees. Her fingers curled around his belt. Her lungs burned as she urged him through the smoke toward the entrance. They skirted a table and both of them began to cough. Jadan heard a loud snap, and the front door burst open. Four firemen in full turnout were suddenly beside them. Two dragged Cole to his feet, and another hooked Jadan under her arms and pulled her up. In seconds, she was outside next to Cole sucking in crisp, clean air. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She dashed them away with shaking hands. “Are you all right, ma’am?” one of the firemen asked. He handed her a bottle of water. She accepted it gratefully. “Yes, except for a bump on my head.” “Let me see it.” He felt around on her scalp until he found the knot. She gritted her teeth against the pain and turned to Cole, who was bent over at the waist. His face was pale and he was still coughing. Worry spiked through her. She pulled away from the fireman and touched Cole’s arm. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” he rasped, wiping his mouth. He shook off the smoke and put his hand against the side of his head. “Except for a raging headache.”

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“You were unconscious.” She frowned up at his handsome face, which was covered with soot. His eyes glistened. Yet he seemed coherent. “You should let them check you out.” The fireman urged them both over to Cole’s sedan. Jadan leaned against the hood. Her heart sank as she watched two more firemen go inside her smoke-filled shop. “What about my shop? Is it on fire?” The fireman frowned. “I don’t know. Be still.” He resumed his careful examination of her scalp, which sent arrows of pain shooting through her head. She made a face. “I think it’s just a bruise. Check Commander McAlister. He was knocked unconscious.” “I’m all right,” Cole insisted. Even so, the fireman released Jadan and shined a tiny flashlight into Cole’s eyes. He blinked. “You may have a concussion, Commander. You should go to Mercy General—” “No need. I’m fine.” “Cole—” Another fireman exited the shop. “Fire’s out.” Jadan’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Is it bad?” “Your back room’s in bad shape, but we contained the flames. The ceiling’s intact.” He looked at the other fireman. “A propane tank exploded. Made one hell of a mess.” “Propane?” Jadan gaped at him. “You mean it wasn’t a bomb?” “No, ma’am.” The fireman took off his hat and swiped his forearm over his brow. “Seems that one of your workmen lit a cigarette, which ignited the fumes and caused an explosion and flash fire. He’s out back with a blistered face and singed arms and hands. The other guys are out of commission too, mainly due to smoke inhalation. None of them were hurt seriously.” “Thank goodness,” she said. No bomb. That meant terrorists weren’t involved, at least not this time. The tension in her shoulders eased a bit. “That blows the hell out of my theory.” Cole’s mouth twisted. “Thanks, Sam.” “No problem.” Sam studied him. “You really should get an MRI, you know.” “He’s right,” Jadan crossed her arms. He’d protected her with his heavy body—again, and she wanted to make sure he was okay. But Cole just shook his head. “Somebody’s got to keep an eye on you.” She opened her mouth to dispute him, and he cut her off. “Don’t bother to argue. I’m not going anywhere.” He couldn’t abandon her, especially when she reminded him so much of Leah. Not so much in the way she looked, but in her dogged determination and her will to succeed. If he’d taken the threats against Leah seriously, she would still be alive. He wasn’t making the same mistake again. And besides, a tiny part of him still suspected Jadan was involved in Kent’s death. And the case had to come first. He was like a bulldog that way. Once he’d made a commitment to an investigation, he didn’t let go. And this case was more important than most. Kent had been his own flesh and blood. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” “Suit yourself.” She crossed her arms. “But don’t blame me if you don’t wake up in the morning.”

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“That’d be hard to do,” he snapped, his voice bitter in the cold wind. He motioned toward the shop. “Let’s go check the damage. It has to be warmer in there.” “No kidding. The place was just on fire.” He ignored her attempt at sarcasm and led her in through the front door. He couldn’t help feeling bad for her. She was just getting the place in order after the vandals had made such a mess of it, and now it had fire, smoke, and water damage. She halted in the tiny hallway leading to her office. The walls were partially charred. Soot covered the ceiling, the floor, and even the air conditioner vents. Tears filled her eyes. Cole wanted to reach out to her, to console her. But he held back. It wouldn’t do to get any more involved. He had to think about Kent. “I don’t believe this,” she whispered, squeezing her small hands into fists. “After the vandalism, my insurance company probably won’t pay for the new damage.” “They shouldn’t have to.” “What do you mean?” She whirled to look at him. “A workman caused the explosion. If he’s bonded, that should cover it.” “His company is. I made sure of it.” Relief bloomed across her face. “Oh, I hope what you say is true. This has been such a nightmare.” “Beginning with Kent’s death?” He watched for her reaction. Her cheeks darkened. “Yes. That’s when the snowball started rolling downhill.” “It’s has to be related to the attempts on your life.” He tightened his jaw. “Everything, except for this fluke explosion.” “That’s what scares me. But I can’t imagine—“ The bleat of his cell phone cut her off. He plucked it from his pocket and turned away. “McAlister.” “Commander, this is Kevin Jacobs.” “Yeah, Jacobs.” Cole stepped back into the front of the shop. His newest detective was prying into Jadan’s life, and he didn’t want her to overhear his end of the conversation. She’d be royally pissed if she knew what he was doing. “What have you got for me?” “Not a damned thing.” He cursed beneath his breath. Part of him wanted Jacobs to find something— anything—to tie her to Kent’s death. Then he’d have to stay away from her. “Did you check her financials?” “Everything, like you said. Her shop’s still in the red, but her bottom line seems to be improving. The place has only been open three months.” “Nobody’s dumped any cash into her operation?” “Not that I can tell. She started from scratch with the government and insurance money she got after the storm. Spent a bundle ordering equipment and getting the place up and running.” “What kind of insurance money?” “Flood insurance. She used to live in her parents’ home on the edge of the Garden District, which took on water. Mommy and Daddy died in a fluke boating accident last year, and she was apparently their only heir. The place was a total loss, thanks to the storm. Lucky for Jadan, she had full coverage.”

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“And now she’s in an apartment.” “Yeah, she rented it the week she came back to town. Got one of the last available units at the time, probably because her credit’s so damned good. No bankruptcies, no liens, no late payments. Personally, I hate her.” Cole laughed grimly. The picture Jacobs was painting of Jadan was not what he wanted to hear. “Did you check it out? Go through her personal files?” “Just like you said. Nothing. She’s clean as a whistle.” “Damn it.” Cole raked a hand through his hair. Slade had been right. He turned to find Jadan staring at him with wide hazel eyes. His stomach knotted. “Anything else you want me to check out?” Jacobs asked. “I’ll get back to you on that.” His eyes locked with Jadan’s. Shit. Cole ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. She squeezed her hands into fists. “You had someone go through my things?” “As part of the investigation, yes.” “You must have forgotten I’ve been cleared in your brother’s death.” “Not by me.” Cole drew in a deep breath. “And the grand jury—” “Was never involved. Did you forget about the ricin?” “Hell no. I’m just covering all my bases.” “I don’t understand. You’ve been acting like my friend. Like you believed me.” Her body began to shake. “I stayed at your house last night, for God’s sake. So you could protect me.” “So I could watch you.” Suddenly, it all made sense. Forget the terrorists. Cole wanted her to go to prison for Kent’s death, just because she had been with him at the end. That was SO not fair. Rage burned through her with a ferocity that surprised her. Her face burned. “I wouldn’t know where to get my hands on any damned ricin. I did not kill your brother, and I don’t deserve to be treated like a criminal.” “Prove it.” His softly spoken challenge brought fresh tears to her eyes. After all she’d been through with the hurricane, the loss of her home, the attempts on her life, the vandalism and explosion that had ruined her business, she was ready to crumple. Except her mother had taught her to be resilient, to bend but not break. She raised her chin in defiance and met his intense gaze. “Tell me how I can do that.” “Help me reenact the night Kent died.” “I told you what happened.” “Yeah, you did. But I want to go back over the entire evening with me, step by step. So maybe we can pinpoint exactly what happened.” Jadan swallowed. That would mean revisiting not only Bangles, but also the bar’s dark parking lot. Her nerve endings tingled. The idea terrified her. Yet, she would do it if it would help her clear her name and get Cole off her back. “Okay. Tell me when, and I’ll meet you at Bangles.” “No.” He shook his head. “You’re staying with me again tonight.” “Why? You’ve got men watching my place.” “Yeah, I do. But like last night, it’s not safe for you to be there alone.”

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“I’ll be okay.” “Forget it.” “I won’t go with you unless I can get some more clothes.” Nothing like changing tactics midstream. She crossed her arms and glanced down at her dirty jeans. “I can’t go to Bangles like this.” “True. I need you to dress exactly like you did that night.” A cold wave of apprehension washed over Jadan. She’d worn the tightest jeans she owned the evening she’d met Kent. Damn. Cole set his jaw. “Once you’re through here, I’ll take you by your apartment to get your things. Then we’ll go back to my place. We’ll head to Bangles at eight.” “No. I need to take a bath, and I’d like to do it in my own tub.” “Jadan—” “Can’t you just have someone watch my apartment for a little while? So I can clean up? My muscles are aching, and a good soak with the spa jets on will certainly help me feel better.” “Fine. I’ll wait while you bathe.” He turned and started for the door. Suddenly panicked, she beat him to it and blocked his escape. “That won’t work. I need my privacy.” “You’ll have it. But I want to make sure you stay safe. I’ll wait.” He scowled at her. “Right now, I’m going to district headquarters. I have men in place inside, and the feds are on the street.” He tapped her chin with his fingers. “I’ve made sure you’re protected on all fronts.” Wonderful. But who was going to protect me from you? ***** Cole ran a red light on his way to district headquarters because his mind sure as hell wasn’t on driving. It was too busy imagining Jadan in her modern spa tub. Naked. In warm, roiling water. He fisted his hands around the wheel and squealed into the parking lot. What in heaven’s name had possessed him to agree to wait for her while she gathered her clothes and took a bath? Tonight would be enough of a test without bringing his libido to a high boil. He slammed out of the car and stormed into headquarters, nearly taking out Slade as he barreled in the door. “Whoa!” Slade dropped a file folder and caught the door with both hands. He snapped out a curse. “What’s got you so riled up?” “Sorry,” Cole said. He needed to get a grip on his thoughts. He bent and scooped up the papers and pictures that had spilled from the folder. One of the pictures was of a darkhaired man. “You on a case?” “Yeah. Jadan Calloway.” Slade let go of the door and picked up the folder. “I just tried your cell. Is it on?” “Of course it is.” Cole yanked it from his belt. Dead. He scowled. “Except when I don’t charge the battery.” “You must’ve been distracted.”

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“Yeah. Distracted.” Cole put the phone away and peered down at the paper and pictures in his hand. The dark-haired man stared back at him. “Who’s this?” “Tarik Mashoud. He’s on the latest terrorist watch list from Homeland Security.” Cole jerked his gaze to Slade’s. “He’s in New Orleans?” “Maybe.” “Take these.” Cole handed Slade the papers and pictures. “Let’s go into my office.” Slade slid the information into the folder. Cole led him through the maze of desks to his glassed-in corner office and shut the door. “Tell me what you know.” “Mashoud was last seen in Mexico City three months ago.” “Shit.” “Yeah.” Slade sat down in one of the ugly yellow chairs in front of Cole’s desk. “We both know how porous our border is with Mexico. He could be anywhere in the country by now.” “How’d you get your hands on that folder?” “Kevin Jacobs.” Slade crooked his mouth. “Our newest detective has a brother in the Intelligence Division.” “That’s mighty convenient.” Cole pulled out his leather chair and sat down. “Anything else?” “Yeah. They suspect there’s a terrorist cell operating in the area, but they haven’t been able to pin down where. The hurricane scattered folks into the wind. No telling where they’ve settled.” “Did he give you any more names?” “Not yet. We’re digging.” “Jadan said the shooter had a large black mole on his left cheek.” “I know. No sign of that asshole yet.” Slade furrowed his brow. “But there are a lot of foreign students enrolled over at UNO. Tulane, too. We should look there.” “Tread softly. Anybody we pick up might use the profiling card against us. We could be sued for violating their civil rights.” “Who said anything about bringing anybody in?” Slade sat back. “We watch. We wait. And we call DHS if we see the guy.” “That might work. But I don’t have anybody to spare.” “You have two men watching Jadan’s business and apartment.” “Forget it.” Cole shook his head. “They’re staying put.” “You could put uniforms on those locations.” “Yeah, guess I could. But for now I’ll leave it as is.” Slade cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve got it bad.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Cole rubbed his neck. It ached along with his head. Probably from the lick he’d taken thanks to the explosion. Slade grinned. “I recognize the symptoms. I felt the same way about Marisa when I thought she’d killed her ex-husband.” “There’s no comparison,” Cole snapped. He dropped his arm. “Kent was my brother.” “O-kay.” Slade looked down at his hands, but Cole could tell he was trying to suppress a grin.

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Cole gripped the edge of the desk. “I’ll talk to patrol. You go ahead and press our link in Intelligence. If Mashoud is in New Orleans, we have to find him. Jadan’s life could depend on it.” “Sure thing.” Slade came to his feet. “And Cole—I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” “I know you didn’t.” Cole forced himself to relax. He’d sworn he’d never mix law enforcement with his love life, and he wasn’t about to start now. Especially not with Jadan. Not no, but hell no. Slade met his eyes. “So, we’re good?” “You bet. Now, get your ass out there and get to work.” With a lopsided grin, Slade picked up the file and left. Cole jabbed a hand through his hair. They had to hurry and find the bastards responsible for Kent’s death and the attempts on Jadan’s life. Then he could forget about her and get on with living his own sorry solitary life. He thought about the evening coming up. And he shuddered. He’d have to wait while she bathed, but that wasn’t the worst thing. Sitting in the close confines of a borrowed truck with her was going to be hell. He had to find some way to keep his traitorous body in check, like maybe taking a cold shower before they left for Bangles. All he knew was that it wasn’t going to be easy. He grew hard just thinking about her. ***** Time passed slowly for Jadan, who spent the rest of the day supervising repairs in her coffee shop. The workman who had caused the explosion had disappeared after the fire was put out, and to her relief their company agreed to take care of the damages. She inhaled deeply and enjoyed the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the new odor of paint, which helped to eliminate the smoky smell that had filled the place. A new coffeemaker had been delivered less than two hours ago, and already the shop seemed more like home. She wanted to replace the Mardi Gras decorations that had been damaged by the vandals, but she decided to wait. “That smells delicious.” Stacy’s chipper voice startled her. She whirled to see her employee standing at the counter with a big grin and a large cardboard box. Stacy held out the container. “I brought us a king cake from Emilio’s.” “Oh, yum.” Jadan bit her lip. She loved that New Orleans pastry, which was more like a giant cream filled Danish than a cake. It was decorated with purple, gold, and green icing, and would have a tiny baby doll hidden inside—whoever found it, had to buy next year’s cake. Her stomach rumbled. She’d only picked at her lunch, thanks to the anxiety filling her veins, and the idea of biting into a slice of pastry made her light headed. “I appreciate that. But you’re not supposed to be here.” “I couldn’t stay away.” “Okay. I suppose you’ll be safe enough.” Jadan eyed the unmarked car across the street. “The cops are watching the place.”

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“Good.” Stacy smiled. “I thought we could pass pieces of cake out to the workmen, and maybe they’d move a little faster.” “Hope your theory works. We had a little problem that put us way behind schedule.” Jadan smiled sadly and filled Stacy in on the explosion. “It’s almost five o’clock, and they’ll soon be leaving for the day.” “I’m so glad you’re okay. And the shop—I tried to get here sooner, but I had lab today and had to finish a project.” Stacy’s mouth turned down in a pout. She set the cake box on the counter. Jadan opened it. Her mouth watered as she stuck her finger in the icing and then licked it off. “Why don’t you see if you have any more takers? Cole should be here any minute to take me home. I have an appointment tonight.” “You mean you have a date?” Stacy’s eyes widened. “No. Tonight’s strictly a business occasion,” Jadan said firmly. Her meeting with Cole McAlister certainly couldn’t be classified as a date. More like an appointment with an executioner. Stacy looked skeptical. “Where is Mr. Hot Detective now?” “At work, I guess.” Jadan shrugged. She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to care. But at odd times during the day she’d found herself thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing, if he was safe. If he was thinking about her. She cringed. No! She handed Stacy the box. “Take this to the guys out back. If I eat now, I’ll be sick. The cops are watching the place, but be careful when you go home. Get one of the men to walk you to your car.” The girl nodded. Jadan put her purse on the bar so she’d be ready to leave when Cole arrived. Then she went back to work scrubbing the shelves beneath the espresso machine. Who knew chai tea was so darned sticky? She checked her watch at five-thirty-five. Cole was late. Jadan shoved the hair out of her eyes and eyed the street in front of the shop. No sign of his boxy silver sedan. Stacy came out of the back. “I thought you were leaving.” “Me, too,” Jadan said. She turned and rinsed her cloth in the sink. A horn honked outside. “Does he drive a gray car?” Stacy asked. Jadan spun around. “Silver. He honked for me?” “I think so.” Stacy laughed. Sure enough, Cole’s sedan sat at the curb. He honked again. “That bastard.” She spread the wet cloth on the edge of the sink and snatched up her purse. This day was going from bad to worse. And when she thought of what was next— She ground her teeth. “Bye, Stacy.” “See ya,” her friend said with a wink. “Have fun.” Jadan shot her a furious look and headed out the door. Icy air slapped her face. “You’re late,” she said, climbing into Cole’s car. Warmth blasted from the heating vents. He threw the vehicle into gear. “I didn’t know we had specified a time.” “We didn’t, but I need time to bathe and gather my things.”

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“You’ll have plenty. I promise.” “Sure I will.” She aimed her gaze out the window. Neither she nor Cole said another word on the ride to her apartment. Jadan was glad he didn’t speak, because she knew that if he did she’d give him a piece of her mind. Tension hung in the car like a smothering blanket. She couldn’t wait to get out of there and find a modicum of privacy. “I took the liberty of ordering us a pizza and a couple of salads,” he said as he wheeled into her apartment complex. “Hope you like pepperoni.” “It’s okay.” She looked away. Pepperoni was her favorite, but she didn’t want to tell him that. He’d already guessed that she was hungry. Damn him for being so nice. She was hoping to hang on to her anger for a while to keep up the wall between them. Tonight would be much more bearable if he kept his distance. To her relief, he did. At least during supper. He met the delivery man at the door, put the food in the kitchen, and fixed them both a plate. Then he sat down in the living room and turned on her TV. Jadan was happy to be ignored. After gobbling down a slice of pizza and a quick salad, she climbed into the tub and luxuriated in the fact that she was back in her own apartment. Even if it was only temporary—and Cole was in her living room. She craved time to herself. Time to think, and time to mourn the loss of normalcy. Before Kent had died and a stranger had tried to kill her. ***** Cole got up and went into the kitchen for another slice of pizza. Three and counting. On the way back to the living room, his eyes strayed to the door to Jadan’s room. He halted. She was in there, soaking in the tub. Naked as the day she was born. The purr of the spa jets vibrated through him, sending his libido into overdrive. The picture conjured up by his overactive imagination was one of roiling water, slick skin, and pert nipples. He almost dropped his plate. Down boy. He gritted his teeth and jerked his gaze away. He’d been too long without a woman. Iraq aside, he hadn’t had a girlfriend since Leah. To make up for his lack of regular sex, he’d thrown himself into his work and dated sporadically, only when his body had demanded release. Cole stormed into the living room and settled back in his chair. His pizza had gotten cold. Irked with himself, he ate it anyway and tried to concentrate on the forensic show he was watching. Impossible. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jadan. He stood up and headed back into the kitchen. He needed to do something. Running on nervous energy, he put his plate in the sink, stowed the food in the refrigerator, and plucked out a bottle of water. The cool liquid soothed his dry throat. It did nothing to douse his raging hormones.

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His cell phone rang. Thankful for the diversion, he took one more swallow of water and slapped the cap back on the bottle. He snatched the shrilling device from his pocket and brought it to his ear. “McAlister.” “Commander, this is Jacobs. I’m doing surveillance at Pin Oak Apartments, and I’ve watched a blue Ford Focus drive by Ms. Calloway’s building several times, like the driver was casing the place. The last time, I’m pretty sure he made me. He hasn’t been back.” “What’d he look like?” Cole gripped the telephone. This might be just the break they needed. “Did you get his tag number?” “No.” Jacobs paused. “Sorry. He had the visor pulled low, and the lights out here aren’t worth shit. His tag was covered with mud.” “You could’ve followed him—made him run.” Cole put the water down on the counter. “Then you’d have a reason to pull him over.” “I called it in, but the cruisers lost him.” Jacobs nervously cleared his throat. “I stayed to watch Ms. Calloway’s apartment.” “Right.” Cole knew he was being a jerk. Jacobs was an eager new detective, and he was doing a damned good job. Time to back off. “If you see him again, call me first.” “Will do. Anything else?” “We’ll be leaving here in a little while.” Cole said, hoping like hell Jadan was almost finished in the bathroom. “Don’t take your eyes off her place. Not for one minute. Understand?” “Yes, sir.” ***** Jadan dried off and dressed in thigh-hugging jeans and the short-sleeved pink sweater she’d worn the night she’d met Kent. It was feminine, but not alluring. She didn’t know why Cole insisted she wear it. Her nerves knotted as she added a touch of makeup and fiddled with her hair. A knock sounded at the door. Jadan swallowed. It was Cole. Her hands shook. She smoothed them down her thighs to calm herself. “Come in.” He opened the door. “Ready?” “Almost.” She raised her hands. “Do I look okay?” His eyes trailed down her body, and he lifted his brows. “Did you wear that with my brother?” “Yes.” “No kidding? I expected a short skirt. Hose and high heels.” His eyes zeroed in on her breasts. “And maybe even—” “What did you expect?” she snapped. “Pasties?” “Hell no.” A red flush darkened his cheeks. “You’ll do. Let’s go.” “I’ll do?” “Jadan, get your stuff,” he said. “It’s already six-thirty. We need to get to my place so I can get dressed, too. We’re heading to Bangles at eight, remember?”

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“Of course I do.” She finger-combed her hair one more time, aware that his eyes watched the play of her hands. His jaw tightened, and she reminded herself this wasn’t a real date—and that Cole was a very real cop. An angry, grief-filled cop. Walking testosterone with a badge. He was also the nearest buffer between her and the men trying to kill her. She shivered. Cole frowned. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine.” Jadan shook off the layer of fear and angled for the closet. “Won’t take me but a minute to pack a bag.” “Need any help?” “No thanks.” She opened the door and pulled out a small overnight case. “I’ve got it covered.” Cole’s gaze lingered on the chair in the corner, swept over her bed, and touched on the brimming bookcase beside it. Finally, his eyes lit on her sparkly black nightclub purse, which lay open on the nightstand, and he moved toward it. Her face grew hot. She’d forgotten it was there. He halted and met her eyes. His own were cold as ice. “Is that the purse you carried that night?” “Yes. But I’ve used it since then, the night you followed me to Bangles.” She bit her lip. He seemed not only angry, but also edgy and nervous. Like something other than grief over his brother’s death swirled just beneath the surface. He picked up the purse and dug through it, then dumped its contents on the bed. Out fell her extra house key, a twenty-dollar bill, her favorite compact, a tube of mocha lipstick, and a tampon. Her cheeks flamed. “What did you expect to find in there? A ricin suppository?” “I don’t know.” He tossed down her purse and paced to the window. The blinds were cracked, and he peered out at the street. “Why don’t you finish packing?” Irritation lanced through her as she hurriedly shoved panties, a bra, and her favorite sleep shirt into the bag. She added her make up, her toothbrush, cologne, clothes for the next day and everything she used on her hair. He closed the blinds and turned to watch her. “You’re taking everything but the kitchen sink.” “Only what’s necessary.” Her heart beat out a crazy rhythm. His mouth crooked up. She zipped the bag shut. “Please explain what we’re about to do.” “We’re going to my place, and then we’re going over every aspect of that night,” he said, his tone carrying a rough edge. “I have to know what Kent did, what he saw. What he felt. Everything.” “I see,” she whispered. Everything Kent had experienced that night included hot, wild sex. No way would Cole insist they do that. Would he? He sighed and in that split second, his eyes changed from annoyed to wounded, like they belonged to a little boy who’d lost his best friend. “We have to do this, Jadan. He was my brother.”

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“I’ll do all I can to help you,” She said, moved by the sorrowful light in his eyes. “But I won’t do everything. Do you understand what that means?” “Yeah,” he said. “You won’t fuck me.”

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CHAPTER FIVE

Cole’s frank words shook Jadan. She didn’t say a word on the drive to his place. Mainly because she didn’t know how to follow his bold remark. Reluctantly, she followed him into his house and put down her bag. Her skin prickled as she waited for him to don clothing similar to what Kent had worn the night he died. “Ready?” he finally asked. No. She almost said it. But instead, she forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Yes. Let’s go.” Her stomach tied itself in an intricate knot as she climbed into Cole’s car and started for Bangles. At least, that’s where Cole had told her they were going. Worry skittered over her raw nerves when he turned in the opposite direction from the hot nightspot and headed across the river. She sat up ramrod straight. “Wait a minute. Where are we going?” “To visit a friend.” “Why?” Prickles ran down her spine. “Did Kent go there that night, too?” “No. Mike drives a truck just like Kent’s. He said we could borrow it.” “Oh. I see.” She stared out the window at the ragged storefronts flashing by outside the window. His friend certainly didn’t live in a nice area. They picked up the truck, and the rich smell of the leather seats made her head throb. Maybe his friend was a drug dealer. She grew even more apprehensive when they turned north toward Bangles. The parking lot was crowded, though not as full as it had been the night Jadan had made her horrible decision. Cole pulled the truck into the same space Kent had chosen and killed the lights. He looked at her, and popped the door. “Let’s go inside. That’s where you two met, right?” “Yes.” She grabbed her purse and climbed from the enormous vehicle. Her heel caught in a hole in the pavement and she tripped. She righted herself and rounded the hood. Cole took her arm and led her inside. The heat of his touch both surprised and frightened her. She hadn’t been with a man in any way since that night with Kent, and she hadn’t realized just how much she craved Cole’s company. That wasn’t good, for her or for him. He could put her in jail, for God’s sake. She yanked her arm free. Jadan directed Cole to the same bar he’d followed her to the other night. At his prodding, they went through the lines she and Kent had spoken as if they were actors in a play, not researching his brother’s bizarre death. A surreal chill settled over her.

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Cole leaned close, and his warm breath bathed her ear. “Did you and Kent dance that night?” “Yes.” She shuddered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. “Then let’s do it.” She planted her feet. No way was she dancing with Cole like she had with his brother. She and Kent had pressed themselves to each other from ankles to chin. It had been spontaneous. A lark. Tonight, her mission with Cole was dead serious. She wrenched her hand free. “No.” “You said we’d do everything you and Kent did.” “Not everything. You promised.” “We’re talking about dancing,” he said in a loud voice. The song ended. “Not having sex.” “Cole!” Her cheeks flamed and she looked around. Thank goodness no one was looking. He gripped her arm. “I won’t hurt you.” A slow song started, sending a ray of heat through her bones. It was the same song the band had played when she and Kent had danced. Icy perspiration slid down her spine. “Jadan?” “All right,” she whispered, hoping like hell he wouldn’t hear her. Yet he must have, because he pulled her onto the dance floor and drew her into his arms. The keen scent of his citrus aftershave sent a fresh wave of heat skittering through her. She riveted her gaze on the top button of his shirt and tried not to lean too close. It was hard, because her knees turned to noodles and she could hardly breathe. The pulsing music and bright lights mesmerized her. “You okay?” he rasped in her ear. She clung to his shirt sleeves. “I’m f-fine.” The heat radiating from his body scalded her. “Is this how he held you?” “Yes,” she lied. She couldn’t tell him how close Kent had held her. That if it hadn’t been for their clothes, they would have gone up in flames right there on the dance floor. Her body heat rose. She refused to look into Cole’s eyes. Finally, the music ended. She let go of Cole’s shirt and drew in a shaky breath. He followed her off the floor. “Ready for phase two?” “Let’s have a drink first,” she said, not in any hurry to go outside. The idea of getting back into that big truck terrified her. She feared she might hyperventilate. Maybe a double shot of tequila would help her relax enough to go through with the rest of the evening. Cole studied her. “Okay. One drink. But that’s all.” “No problem.” She led him to the bar and ordered an extra-strong margarita. He requested a Long Island Tea, and looked at her. “Just so you know, this is on me.” “You, or the city?” “Me.” He shot her an irritated look.

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She turned away and accepted her margarita. He paid for their drinks and leaned against the bar. His mere presence unnerved her. His intense, haunted eyes watched her every move. His raised chin told her he wouldn’t back down. And those broad shoulders— She gulped down her margarita. He sipped in silence. The band ripped out a raucous number, and a bevy of college students flocked to the floor. Cole turned to her. “Want to dance again?” he asked over the music. She shook her head. She wasn’t getting caught up in that trap. Slow songs followed fast ones, and she’d had enough swaying against his hard, muscled body for one night. He put down his glass and wiped his mouth. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time in here.” “You’re not acting like Kent.” “Right now, I don’t give a damn. I just want this over with.” “Me, too.” She took one last swallow of her drink. “I’m right behind you.” Her nerves tingled all the way to the truck. Cole halted beside her and pulled out his keys. “Okay. What happened next between you two?” “Kent opened the truck door.” She shrugged. He shot her a duh look, popped the latch, and motioned for her to climb inside. The vehicle’s leathery odor engulfed her. Already off balance, Jadan reeled from a startling jolt of deja’ vu. This was just way too eerie. She backed away. “Scared?” he asked. She ignored his question and searched desperately for her voice. “K-Kent got in behind me.” “I’ll do that.” Cole looked down at her, his features distorted by a band of light from a street lamp. “You first.” She climbed in, although her muscles didn’t want to work. A fine tremor made her body hum. The traffic sounds on the street beyond the building were exactly as they had been that night, and the air was just as nippy. Only the man with her was different. She was with Cole tonight, and that made her heart race. He climbed in beside her and shut the door. The temperature in the cab dropped ten degrees. “What happened next?” His eyes flashed in the shadowy darkness. She drew in a shaky breath. “He pulled me close. And he…he kissed me.” “All right, then.” Cole reached for her. “Come here.” She balked at first, before slowly sliding across the seat toward him. He grabbed her arms and his lips crashed down on hers. Surprised by the brutality of his kiss, she gasped and tried to wrench away. Cole released her and drew his forearm over his mouth. He was breathing hard. “What’s wrong? He didn’t kiss you like that?” “No.” She hugged herself and turned her gaze out the front window. “It wasn’t like that at all. It was hot, but Kent was…gentle. And hungry. Not mean.”

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“I can do hungry.” “No.” She reached for the door handle. “I can’t do this.” “Don’t go.” Jadan glared at him. This was crazy. It was like he was trying to make her atone for Kent’s death. She couldn’t do it. Not here, not now. Not ever. She opened the door. Cole grabbed her arm. “Please—I have to know what my brother did that night. What he saw, what he felt. Damn it, Jadan. He was my twin.” The raw need in Cole’s voice ripped into Jadan’s ragged defenses. She reluctantly shut the door and turned to face him. “Okay. But it won’t work if you’re mad.” She stared into his face and a fresh shiver glided over her. Perspiration dampened her palms. “Kent was in a good mood that night.” “I don’t doubt that.” Cole laughed harshly. “He was about to get laid.” She bit her lip and looked away. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.” “What if I am?” She turned back. “I told you that night was my first time…to sleep with a stranger, I mean. Kent was hot, and he wanted me. Bad. I caved.” “And that embarrasses you?” “Yes. I don’t usually give in to my desires. I have self control.” Cole hesitated, like he was digesting that tidbit of information. Then he reached for her. “Come here. Let’s start over.” “You have to promise you won’t hurt me,” She said. “That’s not part of the deal.” “I promise.” A tight smile curved his lips. “Pleasure is my middle name.” A shudder slid through her as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Unable to say another word, she held her breath. He slid his arm around her and lowered his head. Then his lips were on hers, and he was really kissing her. A deep, sexy, carnal kiss that shook her to her toes. His tongue swept halfway down her throat and flashed back up to tangle with hers. She lost all track of time. Finally, Cole released her and pulled back a few inches. His breath shot out in harsh gasps and his pupils were dilated. He whispered, “Is that better?” “Yes,” she managed, although she wasn’t sure how. He ran his tongue over his lips like he was savoring her taste. “What’d you and Kent do next?” “H-he touched me.” She’d left out the part about going down on Kent, because that was going too far. Kissing Cole on the mouth was shocking enough. She took a deep breath. “He put his hands under my clothes. Then all of a sudden, they were gone and I was naked.” “That fast?” Cole raised his dark eyebrows. She nodded. “Damn.” He slipped his hand under her shirt and stroked her side. “Like this?” She shivered as his icy fingertips grazed her skin. “Yes. And he was kissing me at the same time, like you just did.” “Kent was quite a player.” “Yes. He was.” Jadan felt like the cab of the truck had shrunk. Cole filled it with his overwhelming masculinity, his charisma, and his strength. No other detective would dare use

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these tactics to solve a crime. Then again, no other suspect would agree to do it. She must be out of her mind. He tenderly slid a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you all right?” “I guess so.” She shook off a shiver of anxiety. This time, he slid both hands beneath her clothes and began to explore. Heat exploded inside her and raced to her core. His touch was tentative at first. Then his mouth swooped down on hers, and Jadan felt transported back to the night Kent had died. Only, Cole was more deliberate. Kent’s lovemaking had been carefree. That word wasn’t even in Cole’s vocabulary. He rubbed his palm over her nipple and she jumped a foot off the seat. “Oh my God.” “Just relax, sweetheart, and go with me.” He slid his hand inside her jeans and panties. The feel of his cool fingers against her damp flesh startled her. She grabbed his wrist. “No! We aren’t going that far, remember?” “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He leaned his forehead against hers, but he didn’t remove his hand from her panties. Instead, he slipped it deeper, and stroked her heated folds. She gasped and her fingers tightened on his wrist. The air in the truck grew thick with the odor of imminent sex. Cole knew he should back off. Yet he had to know what Kent had experienced that night. Everything he had experienced. No matter how much it bothered him. Hell, he’d expected to run through tonight with Jadan like he was following printed directions. He hadn’t counted on wanting her like this. He cupped her left breast in his other hand. Her skin was like spun silk. He kneaded her pliant flesh, and at the same time slipped one finger inside her. She was slick and wet. His body throbbed. He put his mouth to the smooth skin of her neck and began to suckle her salty skin. “Cole, don’t!” She tried to wriggle away. “Stop it. You promised.” He went still. What the hell was he doing? She was Jadan, not Leah. “Please.” Her voice sounded tiny and scared. “I can’t.” He’d never forced a woman to have sex—and he wasn’t about to start now. He drew back. Cold sweat beaded on his brow. “Please.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Not after last time.” “I’m sorry,” he rasped. He pulled his hands free of her panties. “I got carried away. You’re just so damned…beautiful. I can see why Kent wanted you.” She blinked. He adjusted himself and put his hands on the steering wheel. The ache in his groin only intensified. “I need to sit here for a while, if that’s okay with you.” Her eyes slid to the bulge in his pants. “Cole—” She put her hand on his arm. He shook her off. “Don’t.” “We don’t have to stop.” “Yes, we do. I made you a promise.” He tightened his lips and reached for the key. “And I intend to keep my end of the bargain. I’ll let my imagination fill in the rest.” With one hard twist of his wrist, the truck roared to life.

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Jadan withdrew and quickly fastened her jeans. Her skin tingled everywhere Cole had touched her. Moisture pooled between her legs. She longed for a washcloth, but decided she would take a shower as soon as they returned to his house. They’d come so close to having sex. She wanted him, but letting him touch her in the cab of this truck had transported her right back to that night with his brother. She couldn’t relive that. Not ever. Her throat closed up, and she said nothing to him on the drive to the outskirts of town to return the truck. Her tattered emotions wouldn’t let her. She sat as close to the passenger door as she could get, eager to jump out the second Cole brought the vehicle to a halt. She considered calling a cab to pick her up, but instinctively she knew he would object. She didn’t want any more interaction with him right now. So she nixed that idea and resolved to ride in silence on the next leg of their trip back to his house. She wanted to go home. Cole had a man watching the place, so why couldn’t she? He was so damned stubborn. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he said, his tight voice coming to her through the darkness. “I doubt it.” “You want to get as far away from me as possible. Meaning, you want to go home.” Damn, but he was intuitive. She gnawed her lip. “Am I right?” He turned to look at her, his eyes glittering with unrelieved tension. She aimed her gaze out the side window and watched the blurred buildings rushing by. “Yes.” “Forget about it.” His strong hands gripped the wheel. “You’re staying with me tonight. I won’t bother you, if that’s what has you so scared.” “I’m not scared.” “Maybe I said that wrong.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “What I meant to say is that I know you don’t want me touching you.” “It’s a little late for me to make that demand.” “Yeah, but you probably think I consider tonight a green light to try something else.” She whipped her head around. “Bingo.” His intense stare penetrated all the way to her soul. “Even though I would love to have you in my bed, I won’t touch you. Not unless you come to me.” She stayed silent. “I went too far,” He refocused on the road. “I never intended to do that. I just—” “Let’s not talk about it right now. Okay?” She crossed her arms and scrunched down in the seat. How could she have been so stupid to have gone along with his absurd plan in the first place? In only minutes, they arrived at Mike’s and exchanged the truck for Cole’s shiny silver sedan. Jadan considered climbing into the back seat, but decided that would make her look like a child. So she got in front with Cole and buckled in. Once they reached his house, she locked herself in his guest bedroom and jumped into the shower. The hot water felt delicious streaming over her tense muscles. She lathered up and scrubbed herself from head to toe, washing away all evidence of Cole’s touch.

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A shudder rippled through her as she relived those fiery moments in the cab of that borrowed truck. She’d come so close to making love in Bangles parking lot—again. With Kent’s brother. She glanced in the mirror, and was horrified to see a crimson patch of skin on her neck. A hickey. Oh God. Cole had marked her. Shame prickled up Jadan’s spine. She pulled on her nightshirt and panties and hurriedly got ready for bed. The sooner she went to sleep, the better. That was the only way she would stop thinking about Cole. ***** The doorbell rang. Cole put down his coffee cup and pressed his fingertips to his eyes. Who could that be at this hour? His eyes strayed to the clock above the stove. Eleven fifty-five. He and Jadan had been back at his place for exactly one hour, and he hadn’t seen her once. Not surprising, considering all that had transpired between them. He entered the living room and looked out the peephole. DHS Agent Harry Baldwyn stood on the mat, his bald head glistening like a full moon under the yellow porch light. Cole opened the door. “Agent Baldwyn. What can I do for you?” “Commander McAlister.” Baldwyn looked him in the eye. “We need to talk.” “Alright.” Cole pulled the door open wide and stepped aside so the larger man could enter. He brushed by Cole, bringing with him the faint odors of old leaves, cigarettes, and sweat. “I hate to bother you so late, but there’s something I feel you need to know.” Cole’s radar went up. He shut the door. Baldwyn halted in the middle of the rug and turned around. “My friends at the FBI don’t agree with me, but it’s my call. So…here I am.” “What is it?” “Your brother—” “Kent.” “Yeah. Kent.” Baldwyn looked down at his pudgy hands. “He was one of ours.” “Excuse me?” Cole shook his head. Had he heard correctly? “He was one of our men. Undercover, working on the docks. We had a lead that a terrorist cell in the area was expecting a shipment. Possibly nuclear material for a dirty bomb.” “You’re saying Kent worked for Homeland Security?” Cole couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “My God.” “In a manner of speaking.” The agent blew out a long breath. “He came on board with one of our agencies right after 9/11. Undercover the entire time, except during training.” “He’s always hated cops.”

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Baldwyn quirked his mouth. “He wasn’t chasing speeders, Commander. He gave us a set of alert eyes and ears on the riverfront when we needed them most. One of his most used tools was a Geiger counter. It was hard as hell to conceal, but he never got caught with it.” “When did he start training?” “In the fall of 2001. October. Right after 9/11.” “I remember. He told me he needed a vacation. That his work was getting to him, and he was taking a three month leave of absence.” Cole frowned as his mind drifted back over the events of that rough year. “He never said a word about joining the DHS.” “We asked him not to.” Baldwyn rubbed a hand over his bald pate. “From the moment he signed on, we had him pegged to work undercover at the port, since he’d done that kind of work before. Made him less likely to stand out.” “That makes a helluva lot of sense. But still—” Cole set his teeth. “He was my twin. We didn’t have many secrets. Except for maybe the past few years.” “Yeah?” The agent cocked his brow. “Kent changed.” Cole rubbed his hands together. “Damn. I should’ve seen it.” Baldwyn just looked at him. “Would you like to sit down?” His mind reeling, Cole suddenly realized they were standing in the middle of the living room. “Want some coffee? I put some on a while back. Couldn’t sleep.” The agent shrugged. “Sure.” “I’ll get it.” Jadan’s low voice startled Cole. Both he and Baldwyn turned around. Cole could only stare at her standing in the hall doorway, her face devoid of makeup and her hair fluffed out. She wore faded blue jeans and a rumpled white sweatshirt that covered her best assets. Acting like a nervous teenager, she stuffed her hands deep into her pockets. “If that’s okay.” Cole finally found his voice. “Yeah. Thanks.” She disappeared into the kitchen. His thoughts returned to the time they’d spent in the cab of that borrowed truck. Her flesh had been so dewy and sweet— His body tightened, and he cursed himself. He needed to focus on Kent. Baldwyn trundled over to the sofa and sat down. Cole chose the recliner. His body was taut as tripwire. His mind worked overtime. Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever guessed that his twin was a federal agent. He shook his head. “I know it’s a lot to take in.” Baldwyn sat back against the cushions. “I wanted to tell you the other night, but Dave doesn’t know. So—” “Did you recruit Kent?” “No. A friend of mine did. He was already working down at the port, but he was new and stuck out like a sore thumb. We needed someone who would blend in. Your brother fit the bill.” Jadan walked in carrying two steaming mugs. She handed one to Agent Baldwyn. “Do you need cream or sugar?” “No, thanks,” he said. “I take it black.” “Black for me, too,” Cole said.

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She handed him his mug, and their fingers brushed. The resultant jolt startled him. He met her eyes. Her cheeks turned pink, like she was remembering his hands on her. She backed away. “Thank you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. He couldn’t help but recall the way she’d kissed him. Like she couldn’t get enough. She swallowed. “You’re welcome. I’ll…be in the kitchen if you need anything else.” “Don’t go.” Cole set his mug on the coffee table. “Sit down. Agent Baldwyn just blew me away with some information about Kent. You need to hear it.” “Commander McAlister, I don’t think—” Baldwyn warned. Cole waved him off. “It’s okay. She’s in this mess up to her neck.” “What is it?” she asked. Worry flashed over her face. “Did you find out who killed him?” “No, ma’am,” Baldwyn said. “Not yet. Have a seat, and we’ll fill you in.” “You want some coffee?” Cole asked. “No.” She perched on the sofa next to Agent Baldwyn. “Tell me.” “Well, for starters—” Cole settled back in his chair. “Kent wasn’t just a dock worker.” “What do you mean?” “He worked for us.” Baldwyn’s round face gleamed. He lifted his cup to his mouth. She frowned. “I don’t understand.” “He was a federal agent,” Cole said. “With one of the agencies under Homeland Security.” “Oh my God.” Her eyes widened. “And that’s why he was poisoned?” “Probably. Thought it might have been accidental,” Baldwyn said. He set his mug on the coffee table next to Cole’s. “But he was definitely on the trail of a group of dangerous men.” “Terrorists?” Baldwyn nodded gravely. Jadan wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. “I don’t like this.” “Me, either,” Cole said. “But we have to deal with it.” “Do you have any leads?” Jadan asked Baldwyn. He shook his head. “Nothing concrete. I was hoping Commander McAlister might have something new to tell me.” “Not since yesterday.” “Have you looked for ricin down at the port?” Jadan asked. “You bet. We have men down there now, running more tests.” Baldwyn pressed his lips together. “But so far, they haven’t found a damned thing. It’s like the cell just disappeared into the woodwork.” “That’s what they do,” Cole said. “They’re like roaches. You only see ‘em when you sneak up on ‘em in the middle of the night and flip on the light.” “Perfect analogy.” Baldwyn laughed, the sound like Styrofoam being crushed underfoot. A visible shiver ran over Jadan’s body. Cole longed to comfort her, but he knew that was the last thing she wanted right now. Especially in front of Baldwyn.

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He came to his feet. “I appreciate your telling us this.” “Normally, I would’ve kept it under wraps.” Baldwyn levered his heavy body off the sofa. “But since you’re a cop—I thought you’d wanna know that your brother died protecting his country.” “Yeah. It means a lot.” Jadan came to her feet. Cole put his hand at the small of her back, and she rewarded him with a slight flinch. He edged closer and reveled in her sweet, soapy scent. She must have just gotten out of the shower. Damn. Imagining that made him hard all over again. She eased away from him and smiled at their guest. “Thank you, Agent Baldwyn.” “You’re welcome.” The agent lumbered toward the door. “I’ll be in touch.” Cole clenched his hands. Baldwyn turned and pinned him with watery eyes. “I’d appreciate a quick heads-up if you find anything. Is that a problem, Commander?” “Of course not. I’ll contact you immediately.” He nodded. “Good. Watch your back. “I intend to.” The agent left. Cole locked the door behind him, and turned to Jadan. She was gone. He spat an oath. She didn’t want to be alone with him. Hell, after what had happened tonight, he couldn’t blame her. He’d come damned close to shoving her off a cliff. He flipped off the living room light and started across the rug. The window behind him exploded. “Shit!” He hit the floor and covered his head as something whizzed past his ear. A slug. It thudded into the wall behind him. Jadan rushed to the door, her voice frantic. “Cole? Oh my God! What happened?” “Stay back,” he croaked. His heart clogged his throat. He hadn’t been hit. At least, he didn’t think so. But someone had taken a shot at him. He came up on his elbows and crawled toward her. Thank God he had on long sleeves. Even with ‘em, the glass dug into his skin. He winced. “I need my weapon.” “Where is it?” “In the kitchen.” He came up on his knees. She turned. He dove through the door and grabbed her calf. “No!” “Cole!” She lost her balance and sprawled beside him. “Ouch.” “Sorry.” He scrambled to his feet. “I’ll get it. It’s too dangerous.” He snaked his hand in the kitchen door and turned off the light. Then he dropped into a crouch and rushed the counter. In seconds, he had the Glock .40 in his hand. Its familiar weight comforted him. He re-entered the tiny hallway and struggled to regulate his breathing. Fear glittered in Jadan’s eyes. “What are you doing?” “Shhh,” he said, sliding by her. “Stay here.” He slipped back into the darkened living room and edged along the wall to the window. The curtains billowed in the chilly breeze. He gripped the Glock and peeked outside.

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Nothing moved, except tree limbs bobbing in the icy air. He smelled the comforting odors of wood smoke, impending rain, and rotting leaves. Judging from the hole in the window, the shooter had been standing across the street in the neighbor’s yard, probably in the shadows of his giant oak tree. Not much of a stretch, since the yards in the neighborhood were thick with vegetation and the retired lawyer who lived there was out of town “See anything?” she whispered, her voice disembodied in the darkness. “No.” “Could it have been some random shot?” Her shaky words raised the hairs on his arms. “An accident, maybe? A gang shooting.” “No.” He pressed his lips together. “Not in this neighborhood.” “They know where we are.” “Yeah.” Meaning it was his responsibility to keep Jadan safe. The shooter couldn’t know for sure that Cole hadn’t been hit, and more than likely he was still out there somewhere, watching. Waiting for her to make a move. And if she didn’t— Cole began to formulate a plan. He found some cardboard and taped it over the hole in the window, and then urged her back into the tiny hallway. “He’s going to come after you unless we do something.” “Like what?” Her eyes were wide. He took her arm and led her into his dark bedroom. The curtains were pulled tight across the single window, and he felt certain no one could see inside. “What are we going to do?” Jadan asked. He didn’t answer her. Instead, he tucked his pistol into his belt, walked over to the bathroom door, and turned on the nightlight. Its pale yellow glow illuminated her tense face. “That’s better,” he said. His heart thumped as he crossed to the phone beside the bed and lifted the receiver. It was dead. “Damn. Someone cut the line.” “Oh, my God.” Jadan hugged herself. He turned. “We have to get out of here.” “I’d love to. But how?” Her eyes searched his face. “Whoever shot at you will follow us.” “Only if we let ‘em.” He lifted one corner of his mouth and handed her his cell phone. “Call 911 while I check the rest of the house.”

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CHAPTER SIX

Jadan stepped into the ambulance and sat down beside Cole, who lay strapped to the gurney as if he’d been shot. One of the paramedics shut the vehicle’s rear doors and climbed in the front. Soon they were on their way, the annoying whine of the ambulance’s siren preceding them through the night. Flashing blue lights glared through the vehicle’s hazy back windows. Jadan shivered. Cops still swarmed all over Cole’s house, taking pictures and bagging up the slug that had nearly hit him. She had no doubt the shooter was long gone, but she hoped he’d hung around long enough to see Cole carried away. If they were lucky, he’d make an attempt on Cole’s life at the hospital and they could catch him. Only, as Cole said, that person was probably only a fall guy. Someone expendable. “I called Baldwyn while they were strapping me to this thing,” Cole said. Jadan nodded. Good. They needed all the help they could get. “Are you sure the bullet didn’t graze you, Commander?” asked the younger of the two paramedics. Cole grinned up at him. “I’m sure. I didn’t get a scratch.” “It scared us both to death,” Jadan said, her nerves thrumming as she remembered hearing the sharp crack of glass breaking. Cole reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You can relax now. You’re safe.” Maybe from the terrorists. The heat of his palm startled her, and she glanced down at their joined hands. She didn’t feel at all safe around him. Especially after what had occurred between them in the cab of that borrowed truck. He released her hand and tried to sit up, but the bands across his chest held him fast. “Don’t get up, Commander,” the older paramedic said. “You said to make this look real.” “Yeah. Sure.” He settled back against the gurney and his eyes flicked to Jadan’s. “We’re gonna catch these bastards soon. I promise.” “I hope so.” Her heart clutched when she thought about what could have happened tonight. “If they had shot you—” “They didn’t.” He grew solemn. “But that was their goal. To take me out, and then grab you. They think you know too much.” “I don’t know anything.” “Just play along with us, Ms. Calloway,” the younger paramedic said. “Act distraught when we get to the hospital. We’ll take the commander into one of the trauma rooms. You’ll be safe there.” She nodded, the siren’s loud wail reminding her of the seriousness of their situation.

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“Some of my people will be there to meet us,” Cole said. “Posing as doctors and nurses.” The older paramedic pulled the blanket up to Cole’s chin. “Lie still. We’re almost there.” Within moments, the driver wheeled the ambulance into Mercy General’s emergency entrance and halted beside a set of double glass doors. They slid open, and a bevy of people in multi-colored scrubs ran out. One yanked open the vehicle’s rear doors. Jadan took a deep breath. “Stay close to me,” Cole said. He closed his eyes. “Try to look scared.” She didn’t have to act to do that. Tears automatically welled in her eyes as she looked down at him, lying there still as death. And although she knew he was okay, her heart still ached. He could just as easily have been shot tonight because of her. If only she had never seen that damned PDA. The next ten minutes passed in a blur. They were taken out of the ambulance and rushed through the doors to emergency, where Cole was sequestered away in a trauma room far from the entrance. A mobile X-ray machine was whisked in for appearance sake, and doctors and nurses, either fake or real—Jadan wasn’t sure which—scrambled around Cole like he was dying. Jadan sank into a chair in the corner and dropped her face into her hands. “Helluva night, isn’t it?” She jerked her head up to see Agent Baldwyn staring down at her. He surely hadn’t wasted any time getting to the hospital. She nodded as he plopped down in the chair next to hers, his bulk overflowing the open chair. “What’d you see after I left?” “Nothing.” She wiped her burning eyes. “I went to bed. The guestroom was dark. I heard a loud pop and a crash, like glass breaking. I ran into the living room to find Cole lying on the floor.” “Did you think he’d been shot?” “I didn’t know what had happened.” She drew in a shaky breath and suddenly noticed the room’s cloying antiseptic smell. She wet her lips and looked at Baldwyn. “Cole started talking right away, telling me to stay put. So I knew he was okay. He crawled over to me and turned off the light.” “There was just that one shot,” Cole said from the gurney in the middle of the room. “The perp had to be in the yard across the street. Mr. Turnbull is in Las Vegas.” “Are your people checking it out?” “Yep. They’re at my place now. Once they examine the slug in my wall, we’ll have ballistics.” “May not do us much good.” Baldwyn frowned. “I doubt the shooter used a registered weapon.” “We’ll take whatever we can get.” “Cole—you scared the hell out of me.” Detective Montgomery stepped into the trauma room and closed the door. “I just found out what happened. Are you okay?”

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“You bet. Ready to get out of here and find the scum who took a shot at me.” Cole’s mouth curved in a grim smile. “But first, I gotta make this look good.” “Jacobs told me forensics has the slug.” “Good. Tell them to send it to the FBI lab at Quantico.” Baldwyn rose. “Put a rush on it.” “Yeah?” Slade frowned. “Who are you?” “Harry Baldwyn, DHS.” The agent put out his beefy hand. Slade shook it. “Detective Slade Montgomery, Sixth District, NOPD. “He’s working the case with us,” Cole said to Slade. “Give him whatever he needs.” “You got it. Glad to have you on board.” Baldwyn nodded. Jadan eyed the clock on the wall. It was almost two o’clock a.m. Her eyes stung. She wearily came to her feet. “Are we staying here all night?” “We should,” Cole said. “Need to make the shooter believe he hit something vital.” She swayed. Cole sat up. “Jadan—” Slade caught her and held her steady. “She’s dead on her feet.” “No.” She blinked and knocked his hand away. “I’m okay.” “We need to find her a place to sleep.” Cole looked at Slade. “See what you can do.” “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Jadan raised her chin. “I’ll be all right.” “She sounds just like Marisa.” Slade grinned. “You’ve got your hands full, pal.” “Jadan, you and I both know you’re not all right.” Cole shot Slade a disgruntled look, and then threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He still wore his pants and socks, but his shirt had been replaced by an ugly blue print hospital gown. He motioned toward her. “You’re about to hit the floor. Come here. Lie down.” “No. I can’t do that.” She couldn’t take his bed, and she certainly wasn’t going to share it with him. Not at his house, and not here. Besides, he was supposed to have been shot. “I think you should leave the hospital,” Baldwyn said. He crammed his hands in his pockets and approached Cole. “I can arrange for a safe house for the two of you.” “That’s fine for Jadan, but I have an investigation to lead.” “I can work it out either way.” The agent turned to Jadan. “Are you willing to let me arrange for a place for you to stay?” “What about my shop?” “You’ll have to stay away from it for a while,” Cole said. She shook her head. “I can’t do that.” “Jadan—” “Ms. Calloway, you have no choice,” Baldwyn said. “Not if you want our protection.” “I can take care of myself.” “They found you at my house.” Cole stood up. “If you’re at Jadan’s Java, you might as well paint a bull’s-eye on your back.” “Let me hide you both tonight.” Baldwyn pulled out a sleek black cell phone and looked at Cole. “Then tomorrow, you can decide what you want to do. We’ll continue the charade here at the hospital for as long as it takes.” “Well, Jadan?” Cole’s tawny eyes challenged her to make a decision.

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She knew in her heart she should choose the safe house. And since it might be another day before her shop could reopen, she decided she might as well go along with their plan. What other choice did she have? “Okay. I’ll go,” she said. “If you promise we’ll take it one day at a time.” “I promise.” A look of relief slid over Cole’s face. Baldwyn lifted the phone to his ear. “Get ready to change clothes, Commander, while I make the arrangements.” He turned away, and Cole immediately untied his hospital gown and threw it on the bed. Slade tossed him his shirt, but not before Jadan got a startling glimpse of his hairflecked, muscled chest. She wanted to look away. Yet her eyes riveted to that mouth watering expanse of male flesh. Her hands flexed. She found herself wanting to touch him. “Ready?” Detective Montgomery said. She jerked around, and saw a knowing twinkle in his warm blue eyes. A hot flush crept over her cheeks. “Sure.” Cole shrugged into his shirt, but left it unbuttoned. “I’m coming in tomorrow, once I know Jadan’s safe.” “Just give me a call,” Slade said. “Before then, if you need anything.” Cole nodded. Baldwyn snapped his phone shut and turned around. “Okay. Got you set up in a little place in Lakeview, not far from City Park. It had some water in it after the hurricane and it’s been remodeled. Best I could do. The next closest house is in Baton Rouge.” “That’s fine.” Cole put his hands on his hips. “How’re we gonna do this?” “I have a man waiting for you in the employee parking garage.” A nurse walked in, one Cole seemed to recognize, and handed him a bundle of scrubs and two name badges hanging on black cords. “Put those on,” Baldwyn said. “Both of you. So you’ll pass for hospital staff.” Cole dumped the scrubs on the bed. There were several pairs, in blue, green, and purple. Cole shed the shirt he’d just put on and chose the green ones. Jadan hurried over and pulled out a pair of purple pants. She held them up. “Those should fit you.” Cole met her eyes. She blushed when she realized he’d been watching her. Slade crossed the room and opened a side door. It was a closet. “Jadan, you can change in here if you’d be more comfortable.” “Thank you,” she said, relieved she’d have some privacy. She quickly found the top to match the purple bottoms, and entered the small closet. It was filled to the brim with medical supplies. She barely had room to move. But she managed to shed her jeans and blouse and pull on the scrubs. They were a little large. She would make do. She put on her name tag. Then she folded her clothes, draped them over her arm, and exited the closet. Cole had donned his scrubs and name badge as well. With his square cut jaw and chiseled profile, he looked like a TV doctor. Her heart thudded. “Ready to go?” he asked.

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“Yes.” She hugged her clothes to her chest. “I want to take these with me.” Slade walked over to a shelf on the other side of the room and dragged out a plastic bag used for patients’ personal items. He handed it to her. “Put ‘em in this. Cole’s, too.” She stuffed the clothes into the sack and pulled the drawstring tight. Baldwyn’s cell phone rang. He answered curtly. Then he said, “They’ll be there. Give us five minutes.” He snapped the phone shut and stuffed it back into his pocket. “Guess we need to go.” Cole looked at Jadan. Her heart rate increased. “What about food?” “My men are taking care of that.” Baldwyn eyed Cole. “I’ll be in touch.” Cole nodded. Baldwyn started for the door. “Come with me.” Jadan’s nerves jangled as they followed the portly Homeland Security agent through the brightly lit corridors. The halls were quiet once they left emergency, and she found herself wondering about the people in the rooms above them. It was the middle of the night. Did visitors still lurk inside the hospital? If so, the men after her could be inside. Waiting and watching. To her relief, they reached the employee entrance before she saw anyone except two nurses and an orderly. All wore hospital name tags like the one’s she and Cole wore around their necks. Icy air surrounded Jadan as they stepped into the shadowy parking garage. It smelled like oil and damp concrete. She held onto the bag of clothes, hoping it would keep her warm as she tailed Baldwyn to a sleek black sedan parked in the first space. The agent opened the rear passenger door. “Here you go,” he said. “Thank you.” She forced a smile. Cole put his hand in the small of her back and guided her into the car. She sat down and slid across the seat to make room for him to climb in beside her. A tall, silver-haired man was at the wheel. He greeted them and introduced himself as Agent Alan Dodd. Baldwyn stuck his head inside the door. “Keep an eye on her, Commander.” “I will.” Cole shook Baldwyn’s hand. “You’ll have someone there to watch her tomorrow?” “I’ll make the arrangements soon as I hear from you,” Baldwyn said. “Tonight, Agent Dodd will take you directly to the safe house. No stops.” Cole nodded, and Baldwyn shut the door. Jadan’s eyelids began to droop as soon as Dodd started the car and left the parking garage. “Go to sleep.” Cole’s voice was as warm as heated maple syrup. He patted her hand. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.” She longed to snuggle against him, but after the unexpected intimacy they’d shared inside the truck she felt much safer curling up against the door. Better to be safe than sorry. So she cradled the bag of clothes and closed her eyes. The soothing whoosh of tires on pavement soon lulled her into a fitful sleep. Before she knew it, Cole was shaking her awake.

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“We’re here.” His warm breath bathed her ear. She felt his touch on her arm like a brand. She shrugged off his hand, wiped her eyes, and sat up. They had pulled up in the driveway of a small white two-story house with square windows and freshly planted shrubs out front. The garage door rose and Agent Dodd guided the car inside. Cole took the bag of clothes from her hands. She grabbed the door handle, but he stopped her. “Wait until he closes the garage.” Her eyes burned. It had to be three a.m. by now. The garage door slowly slid shut, and finally Cole allowed her to climb from the car. The garage smelled like fresh paint, mixed with the lingering odors of mud and gasoline. The place was empty. Agent Dodd got out and opened the door for them. He was tall, with a runner’s wiry build. “The place took on about a foot of water in the storm. Everything is new, even the refrigerator and freezer. They’re fully stocked. Feel free to eat anything you want.” “Thanks,” Cole said. “That’s better than NOPD can do.” The agent’s wide mouth crooked up. “I’ll be out front keeping watch until NOPD relieves me in an hour or so. Just in case.” “I’m glad someone will be out there,” Jadan said, looking around. They had entered through the newly renovated kitchen. She was so tired she could hardly stand up. “Where do we sleep?” “There’s one bedroom downstairs, two up. Only one of those has furniture.” “Which one do you want?” Cole asked. “Up or down?” “Down.” She wasn’t sure she could climb up one step, much less a whole flight. “If that’s okay with you.” “No problem.” He put the bag on the counter. She started toward an open door, but stopped and turned around. “I don’t have any of my things. Makeup and soap. Shampoo—” “You’ll find the cabinets, closets, and drawers are fully stocked too, ma’am,” Agent Dodd said. “We try to stay prepared for all contingencies.” Some of the tension left Jadan’s shoulders. “Your bedroom is the first door on the right down the hall,” he called after her. She found it with no problem and was pleased to see a queen-sized bed topped with a pile of pillows and a thick down comforter against one wall. A green striped chair claimed the space beneath the window, and matching nightstands topped by cream-colored ceramic lamps flanked the bed. Just looking at the inviting sleep space made her eyelids grow heavy. She closed the door and locked it, then checked the window. It was locked as well. She blew out a deep breath. Finally, after a night of hell, she felt safe. She crossed to the small closet and opened it to find both male and female clothing in many different sizes. The hangers contained no pajamas, so she approached the dresser and opened drawers until she found an oversized pink T-shirt. Perfect. Jadan entered the tiny bathroom and washed her face. She was excited to find an unopened toothbrush in the cabinet over the sink. After she brushed her teeth, she took off the scrubs and shrugged into the sleep shirt. A knock sounded at the door.

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She turned and stared at it. “Jadan?” Cole’s deep baritone carried through the door. “You okay?” “Oh!” She was tempted not to answer him, but she knew that if she didn’t he might break in just to check on her. So she hurried across the room and pulled it open. His short dark hair was mussed, and weariness had added lines to his face. He pinned her with a curious gaze. She squirmed under his intense scrutiny. “As you can see, I’m fine.” “Yes, you are.” His eyes flicked over her shirt, which reached nearly to her knees, and returned to her face. “You look good enough to eat.” “Cole, please—”A hot flush stole up her neck. “Don’t say things like that.” “Why not?” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “It’s true.” “I don’t care. It makes me uncomfortable. Especially after what happened tonight.” She crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on the center of his green scrubs, which were stretched taut over his broad chest. His blatant masculinity unnerved her. But better to concentrate on his body than to look into those mesmerizing male eyes. He hesitated. “You’re talking about what happened in the truck. When I touched you.” “Yes.” The rush of warmth spread to her cheeks. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” “You liked it.” “I-I didn’t want to.” She jerked her gaze to his eyes. A slow grin spread across his face. “But you do admit that you enjoyed it.” “No. I just—” “Don’t bother to lie about it.” He put his hand on the door jamb and leaned in. “Your body told me everything I need to know. And look at that hickey on your neck. Did I do that?” She gasped and touched the red spot. She’d forgotten all about it. Shame speared her as she thought of all the people who must have seen it tonight. Slade, Agent Baldwyn, Agent Dodd— “I didn’t mean to do that,” Cole said. “I’m really sorry.” “It’s embarrassing,” she whispered. “Jadan—” “Look, I’m really tired.” She stepped back and gripped the doorknob with trembling fingers. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just go away and let me get some rest.” “If you insist.” He pushed off the door jamb. “But remember—I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” Don’t hold your breath. She bit her tongue to keep from saying it. Her limbs quivered as she watched him go, and part of her wanted to call him back. But she knew she had no business getting in any deeper with Cole McAlister. It could only get her into trouble. She closed the door and turned off the light. And with a big yawn, she climbed into bed. Tired as she was, however, sleep eluded her. She couldn’t stop thinking about Cole and his hungry kisses. The strapping detective knew how to love a woman. His hands had roamed everywhere. Just thinking about his intimate touches made her body go liquid.

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No! She lay flat in bed and ground her teeth. She couldn’t react to him like that. It wasn’t right. Yet she couldn’t get her mind off him. His scent lingered in her nostrils and she kept hearing his sexy voice, assuring her of his comforting presence. And those changeable eyes— Danger lurked in the world beyond this house. Yet inside with Cole, she was safe. At least physically. Too bad her heart wouldn’t cooperate. ***** Ali looked up when Tarik entered the warehouse. The other man drew closer, and Ali began to fidget. Sweat trickled down his spine. He stood up. “They’ve gone into hiding,” Tarik said. Anger flashed in his eyes. “You let them get away.” “I did all I could. I shot into the detective’s house—” Ali swallowed. “I think I hit him. The ambulance came.” “Perhaps you put a bullet in his body.” He scowled. “But you did not wound the woman. The police have taken her away.” “She does not know our plans.” “She saw our calendar on your PDA, you fool,” Tarik said, his voice rising. “She knows.” “Not everything. They did not disrupt our shipment.” Ali swung his arm at the pallet behind him. “We now have all the tools we need to carry out our plan for the parade.” “We have received the canisters?” “Yes.” Ali hurried around the pallet to an open box and pulled out one of the cylindrical aluminum containers. He held it up. “Two dozen, although we do not need that many.” “Finally, they have arrived.” Tarik’s stoic face brightened. “Rashad will be pleased.” “What is next?” Ali was afraid to ask, but he had to know. If he was about to die…he wanted to go down fighting. No more cringing in terror like a woman. Tarik rubbed his chin. “We must capture the owner of the coffee shop. She cannot reveal any more of our plan.” “I will find her.” “Yes. You must kill her, or you will die in agony. Rashad will insist upon it.” Ali straightened his shoulders. His body still ached from the torture he had endured the last time because of Rashad. If not for Tarik and Mikhail, he would already be dead. He indicated a table in the corner. His new scanner sat on top. “I have bought this new equipment to help me track the police in our area. I have an idea where they have taken her.” “Good.” Tarik nodded briskly. “I will help you if I can.” “We need an inside contact in Homeland Security.” “We should have thought of that long ago.” Tarik frowned. “It is too late to insert one now.” “Maybe you are right.”

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“Find the woman very soon.” Tarik clapped Ali on the shoulder. “I do not relish hurting my friends.” Ali nodded and thought about the address on the paper in his pocket, which he had gotten off the scanner. One of the detectives who had been watching Ms. Calloway’s apartment had recently been reassigned to a new location in Lakeview, near City Park. Time for Ali to follow up on this lead. ***** Cole checked to make sure the doors and windows were locked before sinking down on the light green couch in the dark living room. He was glad Jadan had already gone to bed. With her out of the room, it was easier to relax. He wrinkled his nose. The house reeked of fresh paint, yet it was surprisingly comfortable. He looked around. The cloth furniture was new, and a modern flat screen TV hunkered on a non-descript stand across from him. The coffee table was piled high with book and magazines. The carpet was new too, and he decided it added to the strong odor. Still, he was tempted to put up his feet and go to sleep right there on the overstuffed sofa. But his mind wouldn’t quit. A safe house. He shook his head. Not for him. They may be hidden away from the terrorists trying to kill Jadan, but he was in serious danger of losing his edge. The fury he’d felt toward her since he’d learned she was with Kent the night he’d died was gone. In its place was an emotion he’d rather not name. The picture of Leah he’d held in his mind for so many years had faded. Anger chipped away at his good mood. No matter how enamored with Jadan he became, he simply couldn’t afford to let himself be fooled by her pretty face. Kent was dead, and Cole had to find the men who killed him. Still—damn him—he had come on to Jadan and tried to worm his way into her bed. What had he been thinking? Hell. He ran a hand down his face. He knew why he’d done it. His body ached for the touch of a woman. If only he hadn’t caressed her like he had when they were in that damned truck. When he’d slid his finger inside her, he’d almost climaxed right then and there. Her body had been so tight and wet and ready, it made him rock hard right now just thinking about it. He cursed. Somehow, he had to get his traitorous mind off Jadan and sex and concentrate on keeping her safe. But that was damned near impossible knowing she was sleeping in the next room. He got up and paced the floor. The Glock felt good riding his hip. He touched it for reassurance and made his way into the small kitchen. The light was on. He shut the curtains and opened the refrigerator. His mouth curved in a satisfied smile. One of the agents had used a little foresight and stocked the box with beer. Cole reached inside and pulled out a bottle. Anticipation stoked his appetite as he undid the lid and took a deep swallow. The amber liquid soothed him. “Ah, yeah,” he murmured, closing his eyes and savoring the taste of hops and grain. Maybe if he drank enough of them, he could forget all about Jadan. He twisted his lips. Not a

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chance. Her essence was now embedded into his brain. Drinking would only magnify his need. And besides, he had to keep his wits about him to keep her safe. “Got another one of those?” Jadan’s soft words startled him. He spun to see her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a guarded look on her face. That damned pink shirt hugged her body like a second skin. “Jadan.” He could barely get her name out. “What are you doing up?” “I can’t sleep.” Her eyes locked on the bottle in his hand. “Do you have any more beer?” “What?” He stared at her. “Beer. Do. You. Have. Any. More?” She raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah. Sure.” He shook off the urge to gawk and yanked open the refrigerator. A double row of icy beer bottles sat on the top shelf. He plucked one out and handed it to her. “Here you go. There are plenty more if you wanna get plastered.” “One will be enough. I hope.” She struggled to open the bottle barehanded. When that didn’t work, she grabbed the hem of her shirt. He set his beer on the counter and snatched the bottle from her hand. “Let me do it.” His body buzzed with sexual energy as he turned away and twisted the cap, which gave with a soft pop. He was tempted to guzzle it himself, but remembered he already had one. He gave it to her. She turned it up. Her lips pursed and a tiny drop of amber liquid landed on the corner of her mouth. His ravenous eyes locked on the gentle working of her throat as she swallowed. His cock went rock hard. She lowered the beer and smiled. “Ooh. That’s good.” He blinked. “The beer.” She held it out. “Aren’t you going to finish yours?” “Sure.” Shit. He snatched his bottle off the counter and downed half of it in one fevered gulp. His body burned. He hoped the beer would quench the flames, but the alcohol seemed to fan them. He stifled a groan. She took another long swallow, and frowned. “You okay?” “Me?” The word came out all strangled. He stared at his beer. “Yeah.” I just wanna nail you in that sexy pink shirt. That’s all. He tightened his jaw and squeezed the bottle until he thought it might crack. He was such a pig. He was here to protect Jadan—and all he could think about was wild, hot, fuckthe-living-daylights-out-of-her sex. Was that how Kent had felt that night? Thinking of his brother put a temporary damper on Cole’s passion, until he made the mistake of looking into Jadan’s gorgeous amber eyes. They were wide and innocent in her pretty oval face, and her wheat-colored hair was tousled from being in bed. She took a step toward him, and her sweet vanilla scent swept into his nostrils. He licked his lips, which tasted like beer—just like he knew hers would. His body throbbed with need.

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“Hope I’m not bothering you,” she said, rolling the bottle back and forth in her hands. “I just don’t want to be alone right now. At least, I think that’s my problem. I’ve been tossing and turning. I’m scared to close my eyes.” His first instinct was to take her in his arms. But no. Remember Leah, he told himself. He turned up his beer and drained it. “Cole?” He lowered the bottle and jerked his gaze to her face. “Am I bothering you?” “No.” He slapped the empty container on the counter and dragged out another full one. Maybe if he got rip-roaring drunk, he’d quit thinking about how damned sexy she looked in that sweet cotton shirt. He twisted off the cap and brought the bottle to his lips. She put her hand on his arm. “Will you hold me?” He froze. “Cole?” Her voice sounded small. When he didn’t respond, she dropped her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I know you’re here to protect me. I was just hoping—” “Shit.” He plunked down the bottle. He knew he shouldn’t do it. That if he touched her, he’d have to have her in his bed. Hell. That was wrong on so many levels. But he was powerless to stop himself from reaching for her. “Come here.” “Are you sure?” She hesitated. Her wide eyes searched his face. He took her hand and tugged her against him. “Yeah. Don’t be scared.” That was easier said than done. She looped her arms around his waist and pressed herself to his hard chest. His tangy citrus scent tickled her nose. He enveloped her in a tight hug and all at once, the loneliness that had dogged her for so long began to abate. She felt warm and safe. Wanted. Then he shifted and something hard jabbed her hipbone. It took her a second to realize what it was. His erection. Jadan went still. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to hold her. He knew she’d discover he was hard. He stroked his hands down her back. “Feeling better?” “Yes,” she whispered, her body softening in response to the heated pulse of his arousal. She rubbed herself against him. He felt so good. His body jerked. He set her away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” “You’re really…well…hard.” Her face flamed. She felt herself losing control, and she was powerless to stop it. What would be so wrong about giving in to passion, just for one night? After the threat was over, they’d go their separate ways. She’d never have to see him again. Jadan dredged up her courage and met his eyes. “I thought that maybe—” “No,” he rasped. “I need you.” “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He let go of her and turned away. His hand lashed out to grab his beer. He turned it up. She jammed her arms across her chest. “I know what I want.” “You don’t want me.” He lowered the bottle. “Maybe I do.”

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“Jadan—I’m not Kent.” He pinned her with a penetrating gaze. “Tonight in that truck, I pushed you too far and you fought back. I’m not gonna fuck you now just because you suddenly have the misguided notion that you want me.” “I don’t want to sleep alone. I’m scared.” He turned away and raked a hand through his hair. The rigid set of his shoulders told her his entire body was on red alert. That if she so much as put her hand on his arm again, he would go ballistic. She didn’t want that. Better to compromise. “You don’t have to touch me,” she said softly. She hated making this request, but over the past year she’d endured one disaster after another, including the hurricane that had destroyed not only her home but her entire way of life. And now, after Kent’s death and the two botched attempts on her life, she was emotionally drained. Tonight had been the last straw. “Please, Cole.” “Son of a bitch.” He bent his head. A full minute ticked by while he stood motionless, staring down at the brand new linoleum. Jadan swallowed one last sip of beer and set down her bottle. He wasn’t going to do it. She was destined to endure this night of hell alone. Her heart ached. She turned toward the door. “Okay,” he said sharply. That one word stopped her. “But no sex. No rubbing against me. And for God’s sake, no kissing.” “If that’s what you want.” “It’s not what I want, but it’s what we have to do.” He turned. His face could have been chiseled out of granite. He put his beer on the counter and wiped his mouth. Then without another word, he stalked over to the door and flipped off the light. Jadan’s nerves tingled as she followed him down the short hallway and into the downstairs bedroom. The lights were off and it was dark, except for a tiny sliver of white light from the street lamp outside stretching across the jumbled covers. She got a pleasing whiff of his tangy cologne and her body melted. “Which side do you want?” Cole halted at the end of the bed, which she had left in terrible disarray thanks to her rowdy tossing and turning. Jadan’s cheeks burned as she made her way to the closest side. She patted the pillow. “This one. It’s closer to the bathroom in case I need to get up.” “Works for me.” He ripped back the covers and climbed in wearing his scrubs. “Goodnight.” She gaped at him. “You’re going to sleep in your clothes?” “Such as they are.” He turned to look at her and asked gruffly, “What’s the matter? You want me naked?” “No.” She looked away. Not if I can’t touch you. “Just comfortable.” “I’ll be fine. Get in bed and go to sleep.” She did as he said, and she even closed her eyes. But going to sleep with him lying so stiff beside her made her feel as alone as if he’d stayed in the brightly lit kitchen. She rolled onto her side and punched her pillow. Her body ached for a male touch. She wanted to be held, like Cole had held her tonight in the cab of that truck. Maybe it was because she’d been alone for so long, except for that one night with Kent. Or maybe she simply wanted to take up

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where she and Cole had left off. He was nothing like his happy-go-lucky brother. She didn’t know why he intrigued her so. What she did know was that she needed to feel his arms around her, if only for tonight. She became hyper-aware of his even breathing and the weight of his body against the firm mattress. She rubbed her hand over the sheet between them. “Cole?” Silence. “I know you don’t want me touching you,” she whispered. “But I can’t sleep like this. I might as well be in bed with a marble statue.” He suddenly laughed, the harsh sound slicing the darkness like a knife. “You’re pretty astute, you know that? Part of me is like marble right now.” “I see.” The words stuck in her throat. “We could do something about that.” “You don’t want me.” “How do you know that?” She bolted up. “You don’t know what I’m feeling.” “I know you think you want me,” he said. “But you just want sex. Any lucky guy will do.” “You mean, like Kent?” Cole didn’t say anything. “It’s not the same with you,” she said firmly. “You and I know each other. At least, I thought we had become friends. We’ve only known each other a couple of days, but after all we’ve been through together—” “I don’t count being shot at as a great way to bond.” His bitter words cut into the darkness. “Of course it’s not,” she said. “But it brought us here. We’re in this strange house under duress for who knows how long—so we might as well bring each other comfort. Don’t you agree?” “Jadan—” “I admire you.” She kept babbling, because she knew that if she stopped she might cry. And she didn’t want that. Tears might get his attention, yet she didn’t want compassion. She wanted to touch his heart. So she put her hand on the sheet an inch from his bicep. “Most men would have already taken advantage of me by now. I would’ve been toast inside that pickup truck. But not Commander Cole McAlister. You were too busy doing the right thing to ever—” He rolled onto his side and put his hand over her mouth. “Will you please shut up?” “No!” she snapped, the sound muffled by his salty flesh. Her hands flew to his taut forearm and she tried to peel his fingers off her face, but he wouldn’t budge. He edged closer. “Be quiet, damn it. Listen to me.” She cut her eyes to his taut face. It was shrouded in shadows, yet she could still make out the angular cleft in his chin. He reminded her of a rock fortress, something solid she could hide behind—even if she succumbed to her darkness and gave in to the longing flooding her veins. “I want you. More than you will ever know. My body—” He shook his head. “Hell. It has a mind of its own. But sex is not why we’re here.”

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“I know that,” she said into his hand. Her words were garbled. Even she couldn’t understand them. Yet she plunged on. “But I need to feel like I’m not so alone. I want you to touch me.” His lips tightened into a thin line and he dropped his head. Then all at once his laughter floated over her, the sound harsh and grating. She rested back against the pillow. “I’m sorry. Feel free to go upstairs if you’d be more comfortable.” “That’s not why I was laughing.” He raised his head and looked her in the eye, his intent masked by the darkness. A groan spilled from his lips. “Why do you have to be so damned beautiful?” A feeling akin to an electrical shock slid through her. He took his hand off her mouth and edged closer. “You make me want to break my own rules.” Then he was on top of her, kissing the breath from her lungs, and she was immersed in Cole from her mouth to the soles of her feet. His body was heavy, and he pressed her deep into the mattress. She became aware of every muscular inch of his male flesh. His shoulders were a mile wide, his hard chest met her breasts, and his searing arousal nestled at the juncture of her legs. His hands slid around to grip her buttocks and he ground himself against her. “Damn it, I want you,” he rasped into her ear. He licked her neck and kissed his way along her jaw. “I can’t keep fighting it, especially with you throwing yourself at me.” “I’m not,” she said, her voice coming out like a whisper. “I just want to be touched.” His weight left her. Startled, Jadan grabbed at air. Her heart hitched. “Cole?” “Hang on,” he said, and she turned to see him rip off the top of his scrubs. The bed creaked as he stood up and shed his bottoms. The strip of light from the window landed briefly on his bobbing male flesh. Her eyes widened. Whoa. He and Kent were twins. She smothered a laugh. And without being told, her body softened in preparation for Cole’s coming invasion. “Come here,” she said, patting the mattress beside her. Moisture pooled between her legs. He crawled toward her. “Sit up.” She did so. Cole kissed her, and gripped the hem of her night shirt where it rode along her thighs. With one yank, he pulled it off over her head and tossed it on floor. They faced each other on their knees. He cupped her breast. She gasped at the sudden contact. His calm was callused. Rough on smooth. A blast furnace of heat ignited within her. She put her palm against the center of his hard chest, which was covered with a delicious dusting of dark hair, and she felt his heart pounding beneath her fingertips. “You’re making me crazy,” he growled, putting his hands on her arms. He drew her flush against him and kissed her until bright lights flashed behind her eyes.

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She clung to him. Their bodies melded and his tangy male scent leeched into her pores, making her crave him like a drug. She wrapped her arms around his taut neck and luxuriated in the hot, masculine feel of him. Moisture trickled down her inner thighs. He grasped her buttocks and lifted her so that the tip of his arousal met her throbbing core. Then he kissed her, over and over again, until she felt like she would come apart. “Hurry, Cole,” she said, her words coming out as a throaty moan. “I need you inside me.” Their time in the truck seemed like a moment out of time. This was real lovemaking, she thought, as he lowered her onto his heated shaft. His arms trembled. “Now?” “Oh yes!” She gripped his shoulders and locked her hungry gaze with his. “I’ll die if you don’t.” He grinned and slowly pressed himself inside her, one thick inch at a time. Thoughts of Leah left him, and he concentrated on Jadan. She was alive and in his arms. She mewled in response. Finally he was in all the way, and she struggled to rise. “Hold still.” Cole’s hot breath bathed her ear. He held her down and refused to let her up until his shaft met her womb. Then he shoved himself still deeper and held himself there while he watched her writhe. Passion lit her face. His mouth curved in a wicked grin. “Like that? Is it enough for you?” “Oh God, Cole,” she moaned. “It’s too much.” To her relief, he began to shift her up and down. His arms were like steel bands as he encouraged her to caress his rigid erection with her inner muscles. He muttered naughty words in her ear. Faster and faster he penetrated her, until she could no longer hold herself back. Her fingernails dug into his skin. Flames blinded her and she exploded in a million shards of light, scattering herself to the four winds. She wrapped her legs around his back and bucked like a wild woman. Her frenzied cries filled the room. Cole came along with her, his heated body convulsing within hers as he cried out in joy. The feeling was like no other in the world. No sex Jadan had ever experienced had ever been like this. Not even with Kent. She collapsed in Cole’s hard arms and lay her head against his damp chest as ripples of pleasure teased her nerve endings. He slumped against her, but unlike his brother he was very much alive. She could feel his heart beating out a rapid-fire cadence that blended with her own. “We didn’t use protection,” he murmured, his voice muffled by her neck. Her eyes flew wide. Oh no. They hadn’t. He slid his hands over her hips. “I’m clean, I swear. I’ve never slept around.” “Me, either,” she said, her cheeks burning. “Except for Kent, that is. I can’t believe we forgot.” “We weren’t supposed to do this. Remember?” “I know. But—oh my.” She shifted on his thighs. He was growing hard again. He kept his hands on her. “You up for another round?” “I don’t know.” She daringly met his eyes, which gleamed like polished bronze in the darkness. She liked that passion did that to him. Her lips curved. “Are you?”

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He laughed. “You tell me.” She squirmed as he filled her again. Cole held her tight. His heated gaze burned through her. “Did you do it twice with Kent?” “No,” she said, feeling the stirrings of renewed pleasure. She rebelled, but Cole kept growing inside her and she was powerless to stop it. Her heart thudded. Finally, she released a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around his neck. This time he moved slowly and deliberately, bringing her to the peak and back, over and over again, until she begged for release. Cole obliged her. This time, he shouted out her name.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Cole woke up just before dawn, his back soaked in sweat. Jadan lay on her side next to him, her body curled in a tight little knot. He smiled. She looked so peaceful lying there. He curled a silken lock of her hair around his finger. She was so beautiful. And a sweet, demanding lover. Remorse hit him like a fist to the gut. He should never have given in to his desire to sleep with her. Hell. Guilt stalked him. She was his first since Leah. After she’d been gunned down, he’d vowed to never love again. He’d been her protector too, and he’d failed her. Feeling like a traitor to both her and Jadan, Cole threw off the covers and got up. The air in the house was stifling. Jadan had turned the heat up to broil. Without pulling on his clothes, Cole entered the hall and groped for the thermostat. He finally flipped on the hall light. Sure enough. The temperature was set on eighty degrees. She had been trying to take the chill off the house. He turned it down to sixty-eight. Thunder rumbled. He ambled into the kitchen and peered out the window. Rain dripped off the glass. He swept his gaze across the dark expanse of lawn and a brilliant streak of lightning blinded him. He blinked and dropped the curtain. Damn. The storm must have been what had awakened him. A loud clap of thunder sent a chill racing down his spine. He went into the living room and peeked out the front window. The detective guarding the house was still sitting in an unmarked sedan across the street in the rain. Cole twisted his lips. He was glad he wasn’t the one trying to stay awake in the middle of a thunderstorm. Poor rookie. Always drew the short straw. Lightning glared again, and another loud crash of thunder rattled the window. Cole released the edge of the blinds and turned toward the kitchen. “Cole?” Jadan appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but that sweet pink T-shirt. Her eyes tracked down his body, and she smiled. “You’re naked.” “Yeah.” He looked down. “I was hot.” “You still are.” Her mouth curved, and she met his eyes. He halted before he reached her, and despite the angst tearing at his heart, his body reacted to her close scrutiny. He fumed inwardly and kept his gaze blank. “I was referring to the temperature in the house. You had it set on eighty.” “It was cold when we first got here.” “It’s not anymore.” He clenched his hands. Stop talking to her and just walk away. Thunder boomed. She covered her ears.

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He turned, but his feet wouldn’t move. He was still under her spell. Hot, bothered, and absolutely speechless. Heat radiated off his body in waves. Hell, just looking at her gave him a fever. “Cole?” Her soft voice broke into his troubled thoughts. “Are you all right?” “Huh? Sure.” She took his hand. “This is some storm.” “Yeah.” He couldn’t help himself. He squeezed her fingers. “Scared?” “A little. The storm woke me up.” She smiled up at him. “Don’t you just love New Orleans? Thunder, heat, bugs—” “Don’t forget the humidity.” Staring down into her wary eyes, Cole gave in. Her hand fit his perfectly. He wanted her. Hell, why shouldn’t he have her? She hadn’t asked to be in this situation. He was sick and tired of being lonely, she was frightened, and she was more than willing to let him comfort her. He gave her fingers a tug and drew her back down the hall toward the bedroom. “You need to get back into bed. You didn’t sleep long, maybe three hours.” “I think you’ve overestimated that.” She halted in the middle of the floor and brushed her fingertips over the sensitive skin just below his naval. His partially erect cock leapt to attention. She giggled. “If you count the time we spent making love, we only got two.” He caught her hand. “Okay. We both need more sleep.” “We’ll get it. But first, I want you to kiss me.” She pulled her hands free and looped her arms around his neck. Her warm breath washed over his cheek. “Please, Cole.” He tried to fight his attraction to her, but it was impossible. She was soft and she smelled so damned good, like a woman who’d just had sex—which, of course, had happened only a couple of hours ago. He lapped at her mouth, his tongue outlining her sweet lips. Their tongues tangled. A thrill slid through him, and he grew even harder. He kissed her deeply, and his body turned to stone. Cole ran his hands down her sides, taking time to explore her delicious curves. She moaned and rubbed herself against him. “How did I get so lucky?” he asked, nipping the tender skin just beneath the hickey on her neck. She slid her hands over his bare chest. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m the lucky one.” He kissed her again. A loud pop broke them apart. Jadan gasped and covered her heart with her hands. “What was that?” “I don’t know. It sure as hell wasn’t thunder.” Cole eyed the window. “But it did come from outside. I’d better go check.” “Put on some clothes first.” “I intend to.” He let go of her and scooped up his scrub pants. Struggling to keep his balance, he hopped into them. His heart pounded. “Hell of a time for us to be compromised.” “Oh my God.” Her eyes widened. “You think they’ve found us?” “I don’t know. Could be some kind of a diversion.” Cole snatched the Glock from its holster on the nightstand. “Stay here.”

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He felt better holding the pistol, but still his nerves jangled like they were attached to live wires. He held his breath and crept into the tiny hall. Thunder echoed through the house, and rain drummed on the roof. He entered the kitchen and pulled back the curtain. Lightning zigzagged across the sky. A sheet of water rolled out of the gutter, distorting his view of the house next door even though it looked like every light in the place was on. A siren screamed in the distance. What the hell? “See anything?” Jadan padded up behind him. He dropped the curtain. “Something’s happening next door. Don’t know if it’s some kind of ploy to draw us out—” He slid by her and headed back to the bedroom to get his shirt. She followed him. “Surely you’re not going out there.” “No. I don’t want to blow our cover.” He pulled the green scrub shirt on over his head and stalked to the bedroom window. Thanks to an enormous bush near the fence, he couldn’t see a damned thing. He cursed and headed for the living room. His cell phone rang just as he reached the hall. He spun. Jadan grabbed the device off the nightstand and tossed it to him. He didn’t recognize the number. His heart thumped as he lifted it to his ear. “McAlister.” “Commander, this is Jacobs. I’m out front.” “Yeah, Detective.” Cole sighed with relief. He looked at Jadan. “What’s going on next door? We heard a gunshot.” “It’s a 10-16. Units have been dispatched from three.” Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. “A domestic disturbance. Are you sure?” “Yeah. Don’t know the status, but we’ll find out soon enough. I’ve been instructed to stay put.” “Good. Keep me posted.” “Will do.” Jacobs hung up. Cole slipped the phone into the pocket of his scrubs. “It was a gunshot.” “I knew it.” Jadan rubbed her arms. “It was really close.” “Don’t worry,” Cole said. He reached for her. “I’ll keep you safe.” ***** Slade Montgomery looked down at the information he’d just received from south Mississippi. Biloxi Police had detained Tarik Mashoud the day before the hurricane had struck and had charged him with immigration violations. He was scheduled to be on a plane out of the country within days. Then the storm had wreaked its havoc, and in the chaos that followed Mashoud escaped. Damn. Slade tossed down the paper. The asshole had to be in New Orleans. He picked up the phone and called one of his favorite informants. “Hey, Big Jimmy,” he said when the man answered. Jimmy Pane had a serious craving for a New Orleans staple, beignets, and it showed. Thus the nickname, Big. Slade sat back in his chair. “How are you?” “I’m just fine. What you callin’ me for? You said last time my snitch wasn’t no good.”

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“That’s in the past, Jimmy.” Slade picked up a pencil from his desk and toyed with it. “I’m on a new case now.” “Yeah?” The man sniffled. In addition to his long-term addiction to the confectioners’ sugar covered beignets, Jimmy also had a serious craving for cocaine. As long as he wasn’t high, he could be trusted. “What do you need me for?” “I need your eyes and ears, Jimmy.” “What for?” “Have you seen any suspicious activity down there in the Quarter?” Slade knew Jimmy lived, ate, and breathed the burgeoning activity in the French Quarter, one of the few parts of New Orleans that hadn’t taken on water after the storm. “Any suspicious people?” “Everybody I see looks suspicious. You know this place. Drug dealers, streetwalkers, cons. We got ‘em all.” “I’m talking about potential terrorists.” “You mean towel heads?” “Yeah, maybe.” “Just the ones that own the bodega over on Royal. They’re a little weird, but they ain’t no terrorists. I’d bet my stash on it.” Slade snickered and tossed down the pencil. “Okay. You ever go down to the docks? Maybe just to hang around, make a connection or two?” “Sometimes, if you gotta know.” Big Jimmy coughed. “You know how it is. When I’m looking to score some blow.” “You see any of them down there?” “Well, yeah…come to think of it.” Jimmy’s words began to come faster. “Just the other day, by the river. I saw a couple of curious looking guys goin’ in a small warehouse. Kinda creeped me out.” “Curious?” Slade narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” “You know.” Big Jimmy shrugged. “Foreigners. Like they wasn’t from here.” “Can you show me where this place is?” “For the right price.” Big Jimmy wanted money for drugs. Slade ground his teeth. He hated facilitating the man’s cocaine habit, but he needed to find that damned warehouse. Mardi Gras Day was only two days away. And if the terrorists were planning an attack— Big Jimmy cleared his throat. “What’s it gonna be, man? You want me to show you? If not, I got things to do.” “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Slade stood up. “Meet me at Café du Monde. We’ll go from there.” “Will you buy me some beignets?” “That’s the idea, Jimmy,” Slade said, his disgust growing. Leave it to Big Jimmy to want grease and confectioner’s sugar to go with his cocaine. Slade could see a binge coming on. Big Jimmy’s voice grew excited. “Okay, man. I’ll be there. Give me twenty minutes.”

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“No problem.” Slade ended the call and stuffed his phone into his pocket. He grabbed his jacket and jumped into the sedan. Cole, he thought with a smirk. I hope like hell you appreciate this. Traffic was heavy thanks to morning rush hour, and it took him twenty-five minutes to make it to Decatur Street in the heart of the French Quarter. He found a parking place on the other end of the French Market and negotiated the knots of people already gathered on the street corners. By the time he reached Café du Monde, Jimmy was pacing. Sweat coated his upper lip. “I though you weren’t coming,” the informant whined. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I was about to leave.” “Traffic was a bitch,” Slade said. He pulled out a wad of cash, peeled off a twenty, and held it out. “Get in line. Order me a Café Au lait.” Jimmy snatched the cash and got in the queue behind a silver haired woman. He danced from foot to foot in anticipation. Slade shook his head and found a table. The place was busy, since it was Mardi Gras, but it was early yet. The parades today were all in the evening, and most of the tourists were sleeping in. Finally, Jimmy arrived at the table. “They’re bringing it out.” “Good.” Slade sat back and studied his informant. Big Jimmy had gained another twenty or so pounds since he’d last seen him. The guy ate like there was no tomorrow. “Tell me more about this warehouse.” “It’s just a place, not too big.” Jimmy lifted a shoulder. “Dark red walls. Thick doors. Nothing special.” The waiter came with Slade’s coffee and Jimmy’s beignets. He dug in like he hadn’t eaten for a week. Slade turned away and sipped his coffee in silence. Foot traffic was picking up on Decatur. “You ain’t havin’ any doughnuts?” Jimmy asked. He slurped powdered sugar off his fat fingers. Slade shook his head. Hanging with Jimmy killed his appetite. “Not today. I’m on a diet.” Big Jimmy snorted and wolfed down his last beignet. “Ready?” Slade asked, hoping the guy wouldn’t ask for seconds. He was ready to find that damned warehouse, and then go take a bath. Jimmy brushed off his hands. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Slade led Jimmy to his car. To his disgust, the big man whined about the distance all the way. “Shut up, Jimmy. You need the exercise,” Slade finally said, his patience waning. Another block later, they reached the sedan. He opened the passenger door for the large man. “Get in,” Slade said. Big Jimmy complied, and the vehicle sank a foot. Slade hurried around to the other side. The sedan stank of Jimmy’s sour sweat. He flipped on the heater and tried not to breathe as they wound through the French Quarter toward the docks on the Mighty Mississippi. The port here and in South Louisiana took in over 57 million tons of goods per year before the storm, and they were struggling to get back

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on their feet. Fifteen tense minutes passed before a bevy of warehouses of all colors, shapes and sizes, came into view. The river gleamed like burnished pewter under a bank of dark gray clouds. Slade glanced at Big Jimmy. “Which way?” Despite the cloudy day, the informant squinted out the window. His thick chest heaved with every breath. Slade grew concerned. “Jimmy? You all right?” “Huh?” The big man turned. “Oh, yeah. I was just thinking. Keep going.” “Tell me if you see anything that looks familiar.” Slade set his jaw. He hoped this wasn’t some crazy wild goose chase, brought on by the man’s desperate need for food and drugs. A light rain began to pepper down. He cursed. They passed warehouse after warehouse. The clouds thickened. A long barge floated beside them on the river, and he spotted a V of geese flying overhead. This was looking like a lost cause. Finally, Big Jimmy raised his arm. “There. On the corner. The smaller one. Red.” “Yeah. I see it.” Slade trained his eyes on the squatty metal building. It sat in between two huge gray complexes, which dwarfed it. An enormous crane on the next lot loomed over it like a giant bird of prey. He noted the street number. Jimmy patted the dash. “Is that good enough? Huh? You need anything else?” “Can you describe what the men were wearing?” “Just regular clothes.” Jimmy shrugged. “Nothin’ special.” “What about a car or a truck? Did you see a vehicle?” “Nope. Just them walkin’ in and out. They musta parked someplace else.” “Okay.” Slade drove down several more blocks and pulled to the curb. “Get out.” “What?” Jimmy gaped at him. “You’re not gonna take me back to the Quarter?” Slade sighed. Hell. “Do you want me to?” “Well, yeah.” Jimmy wiped his nose. “I need to get some stuff, once you pay me. You know.” Unfortunately, Slade did. He longed to tell the druggie the beignets were his payment, but he knew he’d never get away with it. Not if he wanted to use Big Jimmy again. So he dug into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. He had to be careful how much he paid, because he was allotted only so much cash for informants each month. Cole might get pissed if he gave Big Jimmy too much. “Here you go.” He held out five twenties. Big Jimmy snatched them from his hand and counted them. His head popped up. “Is that all? I got a big habit, man.” “A habit you need to break.” Slade peeled off two more twenties and handed them over. Then he threw the car into gear and slowly made his way back to Decatur Street. Two blocks before they reached Café du Monde, Jimmy looked at him. “This is good.” “You sure?” Slade raised his eyebrows. He knew Jimmy lived closer to Louis Armstrong Park. Big Jimmy bobbed his head. “Gotta meet somebody.” “Okay.” Slade pulled over to the curb.

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Big Jimmy opened the door and levered himself out onto the sidewalk. The sedan groaned. “Lemme know when I can help you again. I know a lot about the waterfront.” “Thanks. I’ll be in touch,” Slade said with a nod. The big man slammed the door. Slade’s stomach clenched, and he flipped on the air conditioner, even though the air outside was chilly. He had to get rid of the sour sweat smell. His pulse thrummed as he headed to his wife’s office, where he’d ask for a warrant— and a kiss. He smiled. Marisa was an ADA, and she was sure to back him on this one, especially if he mentioned Baldwyn and Homeland Security. No need to tell Cole what he’d learned just yet. That would have to wait until he had the warrant in hand. ***** Dawn was breaking when Ali turned off the scanner and braved the cold rain to climb into the tiny Ford Focus. Thunder rumbled along the horizon. He shivered and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine coughed twice before catching. He looked around. This time of morning, no one should be about. He needed little traffic and lots of time to scour the area where he thought he might find the woman. The inadequate windshield wipers beat out a sad tune as he cruised down Carrollton Avenue and made a right on Marconi, which took him through the west side of City Park. It was his first trip through the area since the hurricane, and he was amazed by how much tree damage the park had sustained. The entire street was lined with fallen oaks and leavings from the flood. What a terrible shame. The park was his favorite part of the city. Lightning lit the early morning sky. He reached Harrison Avenue and turned left. The main boulevard twisted and turned through a maze of secondary streets. Some of the homes in the neighborhood had been redone since the storm, and some looked ready for demolition. Even their lawns were brown. Ali shook his head. The people here were paying dearly for their sins. He passed a street filled with police cars and the whir of blue lights. He put his foot on the brake and slowed down. His mind raced. Surely that wasn’t where the woman and her protector were holed up. Was it? His pulse jumped, and he hurriedly turned around. Should he go down that street? He drove back and forth for a full ten minutes before he decided to risk it. Rain splashed off the hood. He turned the windshield wipers up to high. What harm could it do? He had to know if that was where the woman was staying—and if so, why the police were swarming the house like ants. The Ford shuddered as he rounded the corner and crawled down the street. He was just another passerby, he told himself. Curious about the presence of so many law enforcement officers in the neighborhood on such a dull, rainy morning. The wind kicked up as he passed the first house, bending the damaged trees. Lightning lit the slate gray sky. Ali approached the house in question and an ambulance suddenly cranked up and veered from the curb. Ali’s heart skipped a beat. The screech of the vehicle’s sirens drowned out his cry of surprise. He slammed on the brakes and pulled over. The ambulance screamed by him, followed by two police cars with flashing bar lights.

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His hand grew sweaty on the steering wheel despite the February chill. He flipped on the heater, but only cold air blasted from the vents. He turned it off and sent up a prayer for his safety and good luck. He had to find poor, frightened Ms. Calloway very soon. You must kill her, or you will die in agony. Tarik’s harshly spoken words echoed in his ears. He closed his eyes. He could not endure any more torture. The last time had nearly killed him. And should he be tied up again— A car door slammed. He jerked his eyes open to see a third police car pull away from the curb. The officer at the wheel eyed him strangely as he passed by. Lightning illuminated the Ford. Eager to become less visible, Ali took his foot off the brake and rolled past the house. Nothing jumped out at him to tell him the woman was here. Yet something had happened. Maybe a burglar had been interrupted, or there had been a medical emergency. Or perhaps some hard working man had come home after a night of work to find his whoring wife in bed with another. Ali shook his head. This city was so full of sin, it was hard to tell. Rain slashed down as he approached the next house. A car parked at the curb across from it caught his eye. It was the same car he’d seen at the woman’s apartment building. The same dark haired detective was behind the wheel. Ali’s heart swelled, and he sent up praises. He had found her. ***** Thunder shook the house. Rain poured down. Jadan wrapped her arms around Cole and burrowed against his hard chest. He was her port in the storms raging all around her. Not only the tempest outside—which included the terrorists trying to kill her—but also the squall of guilt inside her heart because of Kent’s mysterious death. She raised her head and kissed him. Warmth flowed through her. And although she could tell he held something back, she thought she understood. They had only known each other a few days, and she had once been a suspect in his brother’s death. It was a miracle he would touch her at all. She smiled at him. “Sleepy?” “Yeah.” He drew his brows together. “And worried.” “Why?” A frisson of alarm skittered through her. He released her and turned toward the window. “I don’t know. I just—” “You think something’s wrong?” She stepped up beside him, close enough for their arms to touch. Right now, she needed the contact. She swallowed. “That maybe they’ve found us?” “No. I just have a weird feeling.” He looked down at her. “It’s nothing for you to be anxious about.” “I can’t help it. The terrorists are after me, not you.” “Maybe. But they took a shot at me last night, remember?” He lifted his brows. “That’s why we’re here.”

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“Of course I remember.” Fear lanced through her as she recalled the pop of that gunshot and the sight of Cole crawling across the living room floor in the dark. Thank goodness the bullet hadn’t hit him. “I don’t want that to happen again.” “Me, either.” “You told me last night you’re going in to work today. Are you?” “Yeah. Once I know what they’re—” The shrill of his cell phone cut him off. He scowled and pulled it from his pocket. “McAlister.” He listened for a moment, and his face darkened. Jadan’s heart tripped. What was wrong? “Are you sure?” Cole rubbed the back of his neck and hurried through the house to the living room window. Her nerves on edge, she followed him. “Okay.” He dropped his hand. She wanted to rip the phone away from him and ask him what was going on. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes finally drifting to her. “She’s good. You gotta find that damned car.” He snapped the phone shut. “What car?” She put her hand on his arm. “What’s the matter?” “This morning, Jacobs spotted the same blue car he saw driving back and forth at your apartment.” Cole pressed his lips together. “A ratty little Ford Focus with an obscured tag.” “Is that significant?” She searched his face. He met her eyes. “It could be. Maybe you’d better sit down.” “No. Tell me. I can handle whatever you’re about to say.” At least, she hoped she could. Her heart whump-thumped inside her chest. He was silent for so long she bit her lip. “Cole?” “The guy in the car—” Cole broke off and squeezed her hand. “Hell. He was your guy.” “My guy?” Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?” “Jacobs thinks it was the man who shot at you. He had a giant mole on his cheek.” Her stomach dropped. “He was on this street?” “Yeah. Jacobs put out an APB on him and the vehicle, but so far they’ve come up with zilch.” Cole tightened his hold on her hand. “It could be nothing.” “But they’re looking, right?” “You bet. They’ll find him if he’s out there.” He cupped her cheek. “You have my word.” “As long as I’m with you, I feel safe.” He dropped his hand. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Even though I have to leave for a while. I’ll make sure you’re not alone.” “Thank you.” She smiled sadly. “You’re so sweet. I just wish we’d met under different circumstances.” “No sense crying about that.” He let go of her hand and pulled out his cell phone. “I need to call Baldwyn and let him know what Jacobs saw.” “Will he move us?”

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“I don’t know. But we need to be ready.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “While I’m talking, why don’t you see if you can find us something to eat?” Feeling numb, she nodded and headed for the kitchen. Her hands shook as she opened the refrigerator and took out a loaf of bread, a package of sliced bologna, and a jar of mayonnaise. Her mind wouldn’t work well enough right now for her to make anything more complicated than a couple of sandwiches. She doubled the meat on Cole’s bread and wrapped both sandwiches in a paper towel. A bowl of fruit sat on the table, and she washed two apples. The knife popped against the cutting board as she cored and sliced them, wishing with each strike of the blade she was eliminating the men wanting to hurt her. She wasn’t used to living on the run and she didn’t like it one bit. Cole entered the kitchen. “Baldwyn wants us to hang tight while he makes some calls.” “Here.” She handed him a sandwich and pointed out the sliced apples. “There are some soft drinks in the refrigerator.” “Great.” Cole pulled out a soda. “I’m starving.” “You worked up quite an appetite last night.” “It was a joint effort.” He dropped a kiss onto her cheek. Then he opened his soft drink. She rushed to change the subject. “Where do you think they’ll move us? To Baton Rouge?” “Maybe nowhere.” Cole took a bite of his sandwich. “They might just put more men outside and try to catch the guy.” “With us in here, acting as bait.” “Yeah.” He crunched an apple slice. “It could work.” “But won’t it be dangerous? We’ll be sitting ducks.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “No. Change that. I’ll be a sitting duck, if you go to work.” “They’ll up the surveillance either way.” He sipped his drink. “I don’t see a problem.” “Let me spell it out for you.” Jadan’s nerve endings prickled. “These people are terrorists. They’re fighting for a cause, and they’ll do anything—including flying jumbo jets into buildings—to further that cause. It’s sick. But it’s also reality.” “You don’t think Homeland Security can handle ‘em?” “Not if they use some unorthodox method of attack.” Jadan picked up her sandwich. “Like ricin. Kent didn’t have a chance.” At the mention of his dead brother, Cole’s face lost its animation. He put down his sandwich. She swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I know you didn’t.” He fisted his hands on the table. “It’s just that…sometimes I forget. And I shouldn’t. He was my twin. Hell, I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” “I’m so sad for you.” Jadan’s heart cracked. His wound was so raw. She wished she could take away his pain. She put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. He pulled away and picked up his sandwich. “I’m okay.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah.” He took a big bite and looked at her plate. “Eat. We may have to clear out soon.”

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Jadan tried to peer through the wall he’d suddenly erected around his heart, but his eyes were like frosted glass. He had sealed off his soul. A deep longing welled up inside her. A need to touch him, and to be touched. Only, she knew that was the last thing he wanted right now. So she continued to eat, forcing herself to choke down her sandwich and a few more slices of apple, in hopes it would sustain her the rest of the day. Cole finished eating and left the table. ***** Ali’s nerves sang as he returned to the warehouse. The rain had finally stopped, but the streets were wet and the air had chilled. He shivered. Yet his mind barely registered the car’s lack of heat. For this time, he could approach Tarik and Mikhail with good news. They would not spit on him and call him weak. Instead, they would smile. He had found the woman. It had been surprisingly easy. Yet worry wormed its way into the elation filling his chest. Was it a trick? Had the police brought the woman there to lure them to their deaths? He gulped, and his skin turned to ice. Goosebumps covered his arms. If they had, he would be the first to die. He pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the Ford. He had to think positively. He had found her. Tarik had already been talking about grabbing her and using her in their plan. She could help them get by the police and might even be useful in ferrying explosives to the French Quarter. Ali held up his head. Soon, they would revere him. He was sure of it. Still, his hands shook as he entered the warehouse. “Tarik? Mikhail?” Silence. The cavernous space gave him a chill. Weak light filtered in through several windows high above his head. He drew in the ripe odors of gasoline and concrete. His heart thumped as he stared straight ahead, refusing to spare a glance at the door leading to the tiny room where they had tortured him. Just peeking inside that cramped space made his bowels loosen. He would not let them hurt him again. Relief hit him the second he spotted light streaming from beneath the office door. They were inside. Sweat rimmed his brow. He hesitated a moment, then walked up to it and knocked sharply. He must appear confidant. Tarik yanked the door open. His eyes were angry. “What took you so long?” “The weather—” “A thunderstorm.” Mikhail rose from behind the desk. “Did you find her?” “Yes.” Ali could barely contain his excitement. “They have taken her to a house in Lakeview. I can lead you there.” “Let’s go.” Tarik cracked his knuckles and started for the door. “She may be useful to us.” “All in good time. Do not be in such a rush,” Mikhail said. He bobbed his head at Ali and sank back into his chair. “Sit down and we will talk.”

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“The day of the largest parades is day after tomorrow. Mardi Gras Day.” Ali perched on the edge of a folding chair beside the desk. “We have the explosives, the gas, and the vests. We are ready to strike.” “Exactly,” Tarik said grimly. He trundled over and folded himself into the chair next to Ali. “We must grab the woman before it is too late.” “I agree.” Mikhail stroked his beard. “What did you learn from our other operatives?” “They have discovered who gave the police the information about the other warehouse.” Mikhail smiled. That didn’t happen often, and Ali opened his mouth to ask him what was happening. But the bleat of Mikhail’s cell phone cut him off. His smile faded, and he answered gruffly, “Yes?” His face grew red. Suddenly worried, Ali squirmed in his seat. Mikhail paused, and all at once his grin returned. “Watch him closely, as I have instructed. Let me know immediately if he leaves that location.” He snapped the phone shut. “Good news.” “Tell us.” Tarik rubbed his hands together. “Have they found him?” “Yes. He is in the French Quarter, at Café du Monde. You must go get him.” “We must first prepare the room.” Tarik stood up. “Come with me, Ali.” Ali grew queasy. The room? He came to his feet and stared hard at Mikhail. “Who are we bringing in?” “The man who told the police about us.” Mikhail put his cell phone in his pocket. “We must move to our alternate location as soon as possible. Tarik, take Ali and make preparations for our visitor in our warehouse across the river. The man is large, so take that into consideration before you pick him up. And be sure to take care of that other little matter.” “You will call with further instructions?” Tarik asked. “Yes. Now, go.” Tarik bobbed his head. Ali followed him out. His mind whirred. “Where are we going?” “You will find out soon enough, my friend.” Tarik smiled grimly. “And be assured that this time, you can relax. You will help us torment our prisoner, instead of enduring our wrath yourself. You have done a good job for us this day.” Despite his friend’s praise, bile rushed up Ali’s throat. The thought of torturing a complete stranger unnerved him. He hated hurting people, especially innocents. But if the man had betrayed them as Mikhail had claimed— They exited the warehouse and Tarik looked at him. “Meet me beside the I-10 bridge in five minutes.” Alarm flared in Ali’s gut. “Why?” “We must dispose of the Ford. You have been seen in it too often.” “That car belongs to me.” Ali halted. “I’ll hide it, until our plan is complete.” “No. Do not argue with me. We will ditch that car and get you another. Come with me. Now.”

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Anger filled Ali as he reluctantly gave in and followed Tarik across the parking lot. He was getting in deeper and deeper. Ditching his car, following orders. Soon, he would help to torture a fellow human being. Sweat slid down his spine in spite of the February chill in the air. True, the man had sinned. But Ali knew the hell he would endure. No one deserved that kind of pain.

***** Jadan cleaned up the mess she and Cole had left on the kitchen table and busied her hands washing the few utensils she had used while making the sandwiches. Raindrops rolled down the window. Lighting still flashed in the distance, but she could no longer hear the heavy rumble of thunder. Still jittery, she longed to find Cole and ask him to hold her. Yet instinctively she knew he needed time. So she puttered for a while, wishing she was at home in her own kitchen, until she ran out of things to do and turned away from the sink. Cole walked into the kitchen carrying two guns. She halted. “Why do you have two?” “One’s for you.” He held it up. It was smaller than his big black pistol, but otherwise it looked the same. “You said you wanted to learn to shoot.” “Now?” “You should know how before I leave.” “That would be a good idea.” Apprehension prickled her skin as she took the gun. It was heavy. She gripped it with both hands and aimed it at the refrigerator. He put his hand on her arm. “Careful. You don’t want to hit the beer.” “Is that all you think about?” Cole cocked his mouth. “You know it’s not.” “Stop it.” She bumped him with her elbow. “This is important. My life might depend on what you show me today.” “Yeah, it could.” That scared him to death. Yet he had to wonder if Leah might be alive today if he’d taught her to defend herself. She had depended solely on him, and he had let her down. He blew out a harsh breath. “We don’t have time to play around.” She looked down at the pistol. “Is it loaded?” “Yeah. Give it to me.” He took it and removed the magazine. Then he jacked the pistol back, expended the bullet in the chamber, and eyeballed the chamber to make sure it was empty. It was. He hit the slide release to get the gun back to ready. Wondering what he’d been thinking when he’d handed her a loaded weapon in the first place, he gave it back to her. She wrapped both hands around the textured grip. “Show me how to hold it.” “Let’s go in the living room. We’ll have more space.” “Wish we could go to a firing range.” “Me, too. I’d feel better about you wagging it around if you’d shot it a time or two.” He led the way down the hall, and she followed. He turned on one of the lamps beside the couch. “Brace your feet about a shoulder’s length apart. It’ll give you more stability.” “Like this?” she asked, splaying her legs like a bad TV cop.

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He rubbed a hand down his face to hide his laughter. “Almost.” Jadan’s face turned pink. She straightened. Cole edged closer to her and reached around her to put his hands over hers on the pistol. Her sweet vanilla scent sent his libido into overdrive. Then his crotch met her backside, and a powerful shock arrowed through his body. Shit. How the hell was he going to concentrate on teaching her how to shoot when all he could think about was how damned sexy she was? She wiggled her butt. He stifled a groan and fixed his eyes on their overlapped hands. This would never work. He was way too close to her. He loosened his hold and backed up a step so he could focus. “Wrap your right hand around the grip.” She glanced at him. “Like this?” “Yeah, but not too tight.” He touched her wrist gently. She swallowed, the movement of her smooth throat catching his eye. She met his eyes. “Is this better?” “Yeah. Now, cup the bottom of gun with your other hand and press the tang of the gun—that’s this bottom part—against the web of your thumb and forefinger.” He showed her how. “Like this.” She nodded and emulated him. “That’s very good.” He gave her an admiring glance. “Stagger your thumbs on the butt so they don’t get in the way of the slide.” He moved her top thumb with his index finger. Her solemn face relaxed. “It feels more natural that way.” “It should,” he said. His mouth was dangerously close to her ear. He edged away from her so he wouldn’t be tempted to press a kiss to the soft skin behind it. She smelled like a vanilla float. She whispered his instructions to herself and assumed another exaggerated stance. He resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “You’re way too stiff. Loosen up.” “I’m trying to, but you’re making me too nervous.” She shot him a disturbed glance. He raised his eyebrows. Wow. She was as worked up as he was. Not too surprising, after their wild lovemaking the night before. But with the terrorist threat looming outside— She overbalanced and stumbled. Cole caught her elbow. “Easy. Try again.” “What’s the point?” She lowered the gun. “I’ll never stand a chance if they really want to kill me. They have too much practice doing away with people.” “Of course you will.” He sent her a smile he didn’t feel. “You’re gutsy and determined. Those tangos won’t get you without a fight.” He hoped not, anyway. “Who?” “Tangos. Terrorists, in military speak.” He touched her elbow. “Don’t give up.” “Okay. Maybe I’ll at least hit their kneecaps.” She struck another stance, which was much more normal looking, and sighted down the barrel like a man stood in front of her. Her body stilled. She pulled the trigger.

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“That’s it,” Cole said, triumph in his voice. “All you need to do is slow ‘em down, so you can get away. Just aim and shoot. If you hit something vital…well, that’s even better.” “Wish I could actually shoot this thing. I need the practice.” “Yeah, you do.” Cole shoved his hands into his pockets. “But it’s not possible right now. Once this is all over, I’ll take you to the firing range. Deal?” “Sounds great.” She studied the pistol. “Is there anything else I need to know?” “Yeah.” He handed her the magazine. “Put it in. It only goes one way, so—“ “I shouldn’t have a problem.” She drew her brows together and pursed her lips. Then she slid it in with a confirming click. Cole felt a surge of pride. He squeezed her shoulder. “Good job.” “That wasn’t so hard.” “Neither is firing it, if you’re running on adrenaline. Don’t think. Just shoot.” “Have you ever killed a man?” Her assessing eyes locked on his face. Regret knifed through him. He nodded. “Yeah. In Iraq. And once here in New Orleans, about five years ago. Kent got in a fight at Sadie’s, a little biker bar on the outskirts of town, and I was called in to break it up. I saved his life that night.” “Oh my.” Tears gathered in Jadan’s eyes. She touched his hand. “That was a brave thing to do.” “He was my brother.” Yeah, he’d saved Kent that night. But he’d been unable to save Leah two weeks later. She’d been gunned down right in front of his eyes. Weighed down by a sudden wave of grief, Cole turned away. He needed space, and time to mourn in peace. “Look, I’m gonna go take a shower. Will you be okay?” She nodded. He was glad she didn’t say anything. Without meeting her eyes, he slipped past her and went into the bedroom. Moisture hazed his vision as he dug through the closet and drawers looking for something to wear. He had to get out of these scrubs. ***** Unnerved by the desperate look in Cole’s eyes, Jadan went into the kitchen to make coffee. She had to do something, or she would go crazy. He was hurting. She knew he missed his brother, but his pain seemed to go even deeper. She hated to ask. Yet she was curious. Had he lost someone else? Seen something so awful he couldn’t live with it? Been hurt seriously himself? She longed to ease his pain, but she didn’t know how. Not without prying into his private thoughts. She mindlessly scooped coffee into the filter, filled the reservoir, and set the carafe on the burner. Maybe if she joined him in the shower— A knock jarred the door. She whirled, and her heart skipped a beat. She eyed the Glock she’d set on the counter. Another knock sent her scrambling for it. Who knew they were here? A streak of terror ambushed her as she gripped the pistol exactly like Cole had shown her. The sweat on her palms made it hard to hold, and she was thankful for the textured grip. She crept to the door and pressed herself to the wall beside it. “Who is it?” she asked, her nerves jangling.

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“Slade Montgomery.” The tension in Jadan’s shoulders loosened, yet she couldn’t help wondering if it really was him. She swallowed, hard. “Give me something else. I have to know it’s you.” “It is me, damn it,” he said, sounding stressed. “I work with Cole—Sixth District. Hell, I was at the hospital with you guys last night.” It was Slade. Jadan’s fingers trembled as she undid the chain and opened the door. Cold air and dampness funneled inside. She stepped back so he could enter. “Good morning, detective. You should have let us know you were coming. We could have let you into the garage.” “It’s okay. I parked around back. Good morning.” Slade’s cheeks were dark with cold. The wind ruffled his suit and blew a couple of leaves inside with him. “Temperature’s dropping like a rock.” “This place should warm you up.” She closed the door. “Cole got upset about the heat.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Slade quirked his mouth. “Where is he?” “In the shower.” She walked over to the coffee maker and flipped it on. “Would you like some coffee? It’ll be ready soon.” “Yeah, sure. Anything to take off the chill. If we have time, that is.” Alarm streaked through her. “What do you mean?” “I have a warrant to search a warehouse,” Slade said. “I need Cole’s help when we serve it. It’s important.” “Does this have to do with the terrorists?” Her heart beat faster. He looked away, like he was trying to decide how much to tell her. “We don’t know yet.” “Cole should be about through with his shower by now.” She indicated the hall. “He’s in the bathroom off the downstairs bedroom. If you want to talk to him, go ahead. I’m sure he won’t mind.” “Thanks.” Slade looked relieved. Once he disappeared down the narrow hall, Jadan stared at the dark liquid slowly filling the coffee carafe and wondered if Cole would leave her alone to search the warehouse with Slade. Probably so, even though he’d planned to call in other officers. There was no time. A chill slid over her skin. She didn’t relish being left alone in this strange house, but maybe with him gone she could finally get some sleep. Her nerve endings tingled. Sleep or no sleep, she had to at least get some rest. She had the feeling she was going to need it.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Slade entered the bedroom and his gaze fell on the rumpled bed. His eyebrows flew up. Whoa! Had both of them slept there, or just Cole? If that was the case, he’d thrashed around enough for an army. And if he’d slept with Jadan— Slade grinned lopsidedly and knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m almost done, babe,” Cole said, his voice muffled. “You need to come in?” Slade didn’t say a word. This was too much fun. He stifled a laugh and knocked again. The door swung open to reveal Cole, wearing only a pair of white briefs, looking in the mirror. “Kiss me, and then—” He turned, and his startled eyes locked on Slade. “Shit.” Slade laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” “What the hell are you doing here?” “I need to talk to you.” “Jadan let you in?” Worry flashed over Cole’s face. Slade stepped back. “After she gave me the third degree. You’ve got a smart woman there, pal.” “She’s not my woman.” Cole grabbed a pair of jeans off the dresser and stepped into them. He wouldn’t look at Slade, not even after he pulled on the black T-shirt that had been stacked with the jeans. He stalked across the room, sat down on the bed, and started dragging on a pair of socks. Slade recognized his boss’s discomfiture, because he’d been there. The man was in love. He didn’t want to admit it, so he denied having any feelings at all for Jadan. “O-kay.” “So, what brought you here?” Cole paused with a sneaker in his hand. “Baldwyn wouldn’t give you his okay to visit if it wasn’t damned important.” “We have a lead on possible terrorist activity in a warehouse down near the docks.” “Got a warrant?” “As a matter of fact—” Slade pulled the paper from his inside jacket pocket. “I do.” “Where’d you get the information?” “From Big Jimmy.” Cole muttered a string of oaths as he put on his shoes. “I suppose you paid him for his Intel.” “You know I did.” “He’s gonna snort his brains out.” “If he doesn’t die of a heart attack first.” Cole laughed sharply. “True.”

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“Thought you might wanna be there when we hit the warehouse.” Slade slipped the warrant back into his jacket pocket. Cole stood up. “You bet I do. I want those rat bastards.” “What about Jadan?” “What do you mean?” Cole sent him a blank look. Slade wanted to shake him. “You’re gonna leave her here all alone?” “No. I’m gonna call in a couple more detectives to watch the house.” “We don’t have time for that. Baldwyn and his men are waiting on us.” Cole cursed. “I can’t leave her here by herself. She might not be that much safer with me here, but still I—” “You’re thinking about Leah.” “Don’t bring her up,” Cole growled. Slade studied his friend. He was about to snap. “Have you told Jadan about her yet?” “There’s no need.” He scowled. “Once this is over, we’ll go our separate ways.” “If you say so.” Slade couldn’t help smirking. Cole was in so deep he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He sobered. His friend had to come to grips with Leah’s death so he could move on. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to discuss it. He wiped his face. “Look, we’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to go. Baldwyn spelled Jacobs with one of his men just a while ago. I’ll let him know Jadan’s by herself, at least until we get back.” “I don’t like this.” Cole strapped the Glock on his hip, and winced when he remembered Jadan had his backup piece. He hoped to hell she didn’t shoot herself with it. Slade drew his brows together. “Neither do I. When Marisa and I went into hiding, we were compromised at both safe houses.” “And don’t forget I was mistaken for you and shot.” “That’s right.” Slade looked at his watch. “Damn. We gotta go. We have to meet Baldwyn in fifteen minutes. Half of New Orleans saw me talking to Big Jimmy in the Quarter, and he’s afraid to wait. They might clear out.” “If they know Jimmy squealed, they’re probably already gone.” Cole didn’t relish leaving Jadan alone for one second, especially after what Slade and Marisa had gone through. But they had to stop the terrorists before they struck. He didn’t have a choice. He blew out a sigh. “All right. Let’s go.” They found Jadan in the kitchen. “Slade,” she said, holding out a cup of coffee. “Here you go.” He held up his hand. “Sorry. We don’t have time.” “Not even for one cup?” Her eyes flicked to Cole, who cringed inside. She was not going to be happy about this latest development. Not at all. Slade looked at him. “Half a cup?” “Yeah, okay. Half a cup. But make it fast.” He forced a smile and watched Jadan give Slade the mug. She turned to pour one for him. He walked up to her and put his hand in the small of her back. “We don’t have time to get anyone else over here. I’m sorry. I don’t want to go, but it’s important. We have a warrant.”

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“I know.” She handed him the cup. “I’ll be fine. You taught me how to shoot, remember?” Yeah, but his attempt had been half-assed. And that’s what scared him. He sipped his coffee to cover the ice sliding through his veins. He needed to touch her, if only to reassure himself that she wasn’t fragile. He put down his cup and looped a lock of golden hair behind her ear. “Stay in the house. Don’t go out for any reason.” “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Slade put his cup on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll be outside.” “Okay.” Cole was happy Slade was so perceptive. He waited until his friend had slipped out the door before turning back to Jadan. She stared up at him with wide doe eyes. He touched her arm to reassure her. “He’s trying to give us some privacy.” “I know. I’m glad.” “Me, too.” Cole peered down into her solemn face, and an unknown emotion slammed him in the chest. His throat closed up. He didn’t want to leave her. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. She took his hand. “Cole?” He squeezed her fingers. “Do you have my pistol?” “Yes.” She pulled her hand free and scooped up the small Glock from beside the coffee maker. With it in her hands, she looked strong and extremely capable. Yet she’d never fired a gun in her life—and that worried the hell out of him. He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her and putting her in his pocket. If she would fit, he would. He looked at the Glock. “Keep it with you all the time.” “I will.” “I mean it, Jadan. Take it with you if you go into the living room, the bathroom. Take it to bed. Just be careful and don’t shoot yourself.” “I think I can handle it.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. He made a fist and ran his knuckles along her jaw. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He couldn’t take another woman dying on his watch. Her throat jerked. Their gazes locked, and he lowered his head. Her lips were only inches away. Yet he didn’t look at them. He was too busy drowning in the depths of her beautiful amber eyes. Her sweet fragrance drifted over him, and his body tingled with anticipation. She would taste like warm, slow-brewed café au lait, the kind that heats a man up from the inside out and keeps him awake at night. He licked his lips. A sharp rap at the door knocked him off balance. He went still. Slade’s impatient tone was muffled. “Cole, we have to go. Now. Baldwyn’s on my cell.” Cole pulled away from Jadan and the world around him gradually came back into focus. His heart beat erratically. What the hell had just happened? He turned away and rubbed a hand down his face. He’d never been under such a spell, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Cole?” Jadan’s voice came at him like she was far away. She caught his arm. He looked at her.

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She reached up and brushed her fingertips across his lips. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” “I promise,” he whispered. He just had to kiss her. Only once, to savor her taste in his mind. He could no longer remember how it felt to kiss Leah. They had been fighting that day, and their last kiss had been one he’d used to punish her. He hated himself for that. So Slade would just have to wait. Cole dipped his head and took Jadan’s mouth. Her exotic flavor consumed him. Slade rapped on the door again, his knock more impatient this time around. Cole swept his tongue against Jadan’s one last time, and then pulled away. His breath rasped out. “I’ve gotta go.” “I know you do.” She gave his arm a hard squeeze. “Take care. Please.” “Do you have a cell phone?” “No.” Jadan furrowed her brow. “It’s at your house. We left in such a hurry—” “I’ll have someone get it for you.” She nodded. “If they find you somehow—” His heart pounding, he broke off. “Damn it. Just stay alive, and know that I’ll find you. You have my word.” “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be safe here.” She squeezed his arm. “There’s a man out front…he won’t let anything happen to me.” “I know. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…want you to be careful.” He backed away before anxiety ate a hole in his gut. “Lock the door and put on the chain.” “Yes, sir.” Her lips curved in a sunny smile. “Go on—get out of here.” He bobbed his head and opened the door. Chilly air streamed over him. His mind worked overtime as he stepped out onto the tiny back porch. He paused and listened for a moment, to make sure Jadan relocked the door and put on the chain. She did. Slade pushed away from the railing, where he’d been leaning. “Like I said before, pal, you’ve got it bad.” “Nope. I’m just worried about leaving her here all alone. That’s all.” “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day you’ll come to believe it.” Slade led the way to a dark red SUV sitting in the grass behind the garage. “I saw how you two looked at each other. So don’t tell me there’s nothing there.” “We just met.” Eager to change the subject, Cole focused on the gleaming Dodge Durango. It looked brand new. Slade punched a button, and it unlocked. Impressive for a newlywed detective. Cole arched a brow. “Where’d you get these fancy new wheels?” “Narcotics.” He opened his door. Cole laughed and climbed in the passenger seat. “I should’ve known. Those drug boys get all the sweet rides.” “Yeah, after they kick ass undercover and take down the owners.” Slade slid the key into the ignition and turned to Cole. “Stop changing the subject. Tell me about you and Jadan.” “There’s nothing to tell.” “Bullshit.” Slade started the engine and drove around the garage to the driveway.

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Cole was heartened to see one of Baldwyn’s people running surveillance a half block down the street. He pulled out his phone and arranged for two more detectives to drop everything and come help the guy. Even with his plea for them to hurry, he knew it would take them at least an hour or two to shake free of their current assignments and get into place. Anxiety made his palms sweat. He hoped Jadan would be safe until then. “She’s gotten deep under your skin, hasn’t she?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “I know how you feel. Hell, I felt the same way about Marisa.” Slade cocked a brow and sent them barreling down the street. “I tried my best to deny my feelings for her. I buried myself in the job so I wouldn’t think about her, would quit dreaming about her. It didn’t work.” “You two had a history. This is different.” “Doesn’t matter.” Slade shook his head. “Once a woman gets her claws into you, you’re toast. Same thing happened with you and Leah.” “I asked you not to bring her up.” “Her death wasn’t your fault.” “Shut up.” “You know I’m right.” Slade cut him a sideways glance. “She was killed because of her brother, not you. If he hadn’t been dealing drugs—” “I was supposed to protect her, damn it.” “They ambushed you. You did all you could.” “It should’ve been me,” Cole snapped. “I should have died that day. Not Leah.” Slade was silent as he wheeled the SUV onto Harrison Avenue. Then he turned to Cole. “Not many people are given a second chance. Jadan is the best thing that’s happened to you in years. You’re gonna either have to stop wallowing in self pity and admit that Leah’s death wasn’t your fault, or you’ll lose her. It’s entirely up to you.” Confusion swirled within Cole as he sat back and contemplated his friend’s ominous words. Slade was wrong. He wasn’t wallowing. Was he? He’d put the past aside and slept with Jadan. It had been hard to do, but he’d done it. Yet deep down inside he knew he hadn’t really opened up to her. His heart was still locked down tight. He could walk away from her at any time. Couldn’t he? The bleat of his cell phone made him jump. Thankful for the interruption, he dug it from his pocket. “McAlister.” “Commander, this is Baldwyn. Have you hooked up with Detective Montgomery?” “Yes, sir.” Cole looked at Slade. “We’re on our way with the warrant. It may take us a few minutes, since we have to go around the parade.” “Perfect timing. We’re waiting on a couple of our team members who’re stuck in traffic somewhere off Canal. Montgomery knows where to meet us. Oh, and Commander—” “Yeah?” “We have some new Intel claiming our friends got wind of your informant and they’ve gone to ground. This search might very well be a bust.” Cole bit out a curse and turned to Slade. “Did anyone see you with Big Jimmy yesterday?”

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“Only half of the French Quarter,” Slade said, an angry light flaring in his eyes. He muttered something nasty. “He had to have his fucking beignets at Café du Monde.” “Of course he did.” Cole pressed the phone to his ear. “So, Baldwyn, what are we doing?” “We’ll hit the place hard, just in case,” the agent growled. “Be ready to rock and roll.” “Yes, sir. We will.” Cole ended the call and scowled at Slade. “He says the tangos have left the building. If they’ve already cleared out, that means—” “Don’t worry. We’ll find ‘em.” “We don’t have a choice,” Cole said grimly. “Not if we’re gonna prevent a second disaster.” ***** Ali’s pulse pounded in his ears as he drove the tiny Ford over the railroad tracks and pulled up beside Tarik at the end of Richard Street near the bridge. He had questions about what he was about to do, since it was still daylight. But he decided it was best for him to simply follow orders. It would keep Rashad from getting angry. He nodded at Tarik before rolling past him down the ancient gravel road running along the river. Hurry, he told himself. He searched frantically for the spot Tarik had told him about. A place without the high grass and hidden concrete chunks. His hands clutched the steering wheel. Finally, another five hundred feet down, he found it—a crumbling boat landing that dropped straight down into the Mississippi. The river had changed course, rendering it useless. Unless one was trying to dump a car. Ali looked around and saw no one. His hands shook as he put the car in neutral and climbed out. His boots sank in the thick gravel. The air was cold, yet sweat rimmed his brow. He scanned the area again. Above him, near the warehouses, he heard shouting, a startling pounding sound, and gears grinding. Acid filled his mouth. He had to move now. When no one would hear. He fastened his hands on the Ford’s door frame and used his legs to start the vehicle rolling. More gravel crunched beneath his feet. His back muscles protested, but he ignored the twinges of pain and shoved harder. The Focus picked up speed and nosed downward. Moments later, it pitched over the edge and hit the chocolate-colored water below with a loud splash. He looked up, and spotted a long flat barge on the water a half mile away. Alarm crackled over his skin. He turned and sprinted up the bank the way he’d come, hoping the men on the barge had not seen him. His heart whammed like a drum as he searched frantically for Tarik’s ugly brown Saab. Surely his friend had not abandoned him. A horn honked to Ali’s left, and he jerked around. There sat Tarik, parked next to a big gray warehouse. Two men on forklifts emptied a dented eighteen wheeler only fifty feet away. Ali was terrified they had seen what he had just done. He hurried to Tarik’s vehicle. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow as he climbed inside. “Did you do it?” “Yes.” Ali’s hands shook as he scrubbed them over his face. “Go. Please.”

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Tarik started the Saab and trundled slowly from the parking lot. He turned left at the corner and headed east toward the French Quarter. Ali couldn’t stop shaking. “There was a barge, on the river. I did not see it until I had dumped the car.” Tarik cursed in his native tongue. “Did they see you?” “I don’t know. They were far away. Still—” “We should have waited until dark. But we couldn’t risk it with the police and federal agents after us.” “Where are we going now?” Ali knew, but he feigned innocence. Tarik smiled grimly. “To pick up the man who squealed to the police about the warehouse. Mikhail phoned with his location. He must die.” Ali’s stomach swirled. The air in the Saab was warm, thanks to the heater. But his insides were ice cold. He knew in his heart that maiming and killing other human beings was wrong. So why did he continue helping Tarik and the others? Because he feared recrimination? Yes. Because he believed in their cause? Only partially. He closed his eyes. He had jumped into this affair with his eyes wide open, believing he was promoting an ideology of peace. Now he had learned otherwise. Pain, horror, and destruction were all his friends knew. Tarik looked at him. “Ali? Can you be trusted to complete our operation?” “Of course.” The words came out as a croak. He cleared his throat. Fear floated through his veins. “I assure you I can be trusted. I dumped the car. I am ready for the next step on our journey.” “Good.” Tarik turned his attention back to the road. They were now approaching Decatur Street. “Because if you step out of line, even a little bit, Rashad will have you murdered. He is a loyalist.” “I know.” That’s why fingers of dread stroked Ali’s spine. He didn’t like killing, but he wanted to be killed even less. That last torture session he had endured had been pure hell. No way was he going to repeat that. Not ever. He had no choice but to go along with Rashad’s complicated plan. Even though his stomach grew nauseous at the idea of killing so many innocent men, women, and children, who were merely watching a Mardi Gras parade. Yes, they were sinners. So was he. A red truck cut in front of Tarik, and he slammed on the brakes. The driver of the truck leaned out the window and made an obscene gesture. Tarik growled his displeasure. “That is why we must do this. To cleanse this rebuilt city of sinners. Many did not return immediately after the storm, but they are filtering back in slowly but surely. It is our mission to bring peace and tranquility to this land through whatever means we deem necessary.” Ali did not agree, but he didn’t dare argue with Tarik. Anything he said would go straight back to Mikhail and in no time, Rashad would know every word he had said. A ripple of terror skated over Ali’s raw nerves. He raised his chin and watched the light change. The truck in front of them eased through it after letting a crowd of pedestrians cross, while Tarik hung back. “We must start looking for our prey. Do you have the picture?” “Yes. Still, it will be hard in this crowd.” Ali shook off his disquiet and pulled out the picture Mikhail had provided. It was of an extremely obese man stuffing his face with

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beignets, a sugary New Orleans treat that Ali had yet to try. Rashad frowned upon any type of self indulgence. Tarik pointed up ahead at the open air restaurant at the tip of the French Market. “There is Café du Monde. The man known as Big Jimmy goes there each morning for doughnuts whenever he has money left after buying cocaine. He has many bad habits.” “We are lucky it is so soon after lunch, when many tourists are still eating. Let me out.” Ali put his hand on the door handle. “I will go around to the other side and look for him. Our search will be less obvious that way.” “Good idea.” Tarik clutched the wheel. “We must hurry, before the crowds began walking past here going to the parade. I will circle the block several times to let you make contact, and then I will park at the curb so we can get him into the car. It will not be easy, because of his size. We will have to make like he is ill.” “Did you bring the drug with you?” “Yes.” Tarik’s mouth curved as he handed it over. “It is enough to bring down a horse. And after seeing that picture, I am thinking you may need to give him all of it.” Ali choked on a laugh. His nerve endings felt like they were attached to Tarik’s stun gun, yet he had complete control of all his faculties. That thought gave him an idea. He turned to Tarik. “If the drug is not strong enough, we could stun him and drag him to the car.” “Are you insane?” Tarik snapped, raising his dark eyebrows. “That would be too dangerous. There are too many people walking up and down the street. Businessmen, tourists, street musicians, you name it. The place is like a zoo, especially during Mardi Gras.” “You are right. Drugging him is risky enough.” Ali shrugged. “Still, if you didn’t let them see the device when you shock him, they might simply think he is ill. Or drunk from too much wine.” “Café du Monde does not serve wine, you fool,” Tarik growled. “Go. We will do what we can to get him into the car.” He stopped next to a voodoo shop, and Ali climbed out. His feet slapped the concrete as he sidestepped a family of four in his hurry to reach his destination. He glanced at the picture in his hand one last time, and stuffed it back into his pocket. He soon circled around to the side of Café du Monde and halted, letting his eyes scan the crowd beneath the portico. He did not see the large man called Big Jimmy on the outer fringe of seats, as he had hoped. So he moved closer. There. Ali’s heart tripped. Big Jimmy sat three tables into the open air cafe on the side nearest the street. He was mopping his mouth with a napkin. Three beignets piled high with sugar sat on his plate. He picked up a coffee cup and drank from it. Ali walked to the window and ordered beignets and coffee, and then wound his way through the tables to where the big man sat. His pulse raced as he claimed the next table. “Hello,” Ali said, hoping to strike up a conversation. The big man grunted and gulped down another beignet. Ali looked away and pulled out the vial containing the rohypnol. He palmed it as the waiter delivered his doughnuts and coffee. Eager to look innocent, he bit into one of the sugar-dredged pastries and he immediately knew why Big Jimmy was so addicted. They were

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delicious. Yet he knew he had no time to eat. He rose on the pretense of getting a newspaper off the next table and purposefully knocked over his coffee cup, which hit the floor and shattered. The dark brew flew all over Big Jimmy’s pants. The big man roared his displeasure and snatched up his napkin. Glaring at Ali, he lumbered to his feet and bent to wipe his stained slacks. Ali surreptitiously dumped the drug into his coffee, and then hid the vial in the pocket of his coat. “I am so sorry,” he said. “I will pay for your dry cleaning.” “Damned foreigners,” Big Jimmy growled. He let out a string of vile curses. The waiter rushed over with a rag, a broom, and a dustpan. Ali apologized profusely and helped the man clean up. Big Jimmy sat back down and consumed another doughnut. Ali finished his own pastry, and smiled when the waiter brought him a fresh cup of café au lait. Then he sat back in his chair and watched Big Jimmy smack his lips and continue to feed like a hungry elephant. Finally, the big man’s eyelids began to droop. He dropped his last beignet, and pulled out his cell phone. But it never made it to his ear. He dropped it on the table and closed his eyes. Ali took that as his signal to move. If he waited too long, Big Jimmy would be incapacitated and he and Tarik would never get him into the car. Painting on a look of concern, Ali rose and hovered over Big Jimmy. “Sir, are you all right? Are you ill?” The big man grunted and stared up at Ali with wide, startled eyes. Ali grabbed his arm. “I think you need help. Let me assist you to your car.” Big Jimmy opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but no words came out. Sugartinged drool coated his lips. Ali dragged him to his feet and looped his arm around the man’s large waist. As an after thought, he picked up the big man’s cell phone and stuck it in his pocket. The waiter rushed over. “Sir, do you need my help?” “No thank you, sir,” Ali said. “He is ill, but we are acquaintances. I will see that he gets home.” With a grave, understanding nod, the waiter went back to work. Sweat plastered Ali’s shirt to his back under his coat. Big Jimmy was heavy and his thick body radiated heat. He smelled sour, like he had not bathed recently. Ali turned up his nose. His arm muscles burned from keeping the large man upright and guiding him through the maze of tables. Finally, they reached the entrance to the cafe and he spotted Tarik coming down the street. “There is our ride,” he said, hoping the big man would stay calm. He looked over at Big Jimmy, and realized he shouldn’t have worried. The man’s chin lolled on his chest and he kept blinking like he was trying to stay awake. Ali urged him toward Tarik’s automobile, which halted at the cub. To his relief, his friend kept his word and hopped out to help. Together, they wrestled Big Jimmy into the Saab’s narrow back seat. It was a tight fit. Ali was suddenly glad they had ditched the Ford, because the enormous man would never have fit inside.

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He shut the back door and climbed into the passenger seat. Tarik got in and steered the vehicle into traffic. Behind them, Big Jimmy moaned. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed gas. Cursing the man’s ancestors, Tarik rolled down his window. “Pig.” Ali smiled grimly and shook off the urge to change his shirt. Tarik was correct. Big Jimmy wasn’t human. Maybe Ali wouldn’t have such a hard time helping with his torment after all. The clouds thickened as they crossed the river and entered Algiers, and then the city of Gretna. Tarik guided the Saab to a tall warehouse on the outskirts of town and pulled out his phone. In only seconds, the giant metal door in front of them began to rise. He guided the Saab inside. Ali began to breathe easier. The most difficult task was now behind them. He climbed out as the door closed and opened the rear door to reveal Big Jimmy, snoring like a lump on the backseat. His sour odor floated up to made Ali gag. Mikhail exited the tiny office and strolled over to them. “You have the informant?” “Yes,” Tarik said, slamming his door. “We need your help getting him into the room you have prepared. He is a very large man.” “I have just the thing.” Mikhail’s black eyes glinted with mischief. He turned and entered a side room beside the office, and came out with a large wheelbarrow. “This should help us move him.” “It’s perfect.” Relief flowed through Ali. He grabbed the man’s hefty legs and turned him so they stuck out of the car. Then he stood up. “Mikhail, push the wheelbarrow up to the seat.” He did so. Tarik got in the other side to push Big Jimmy’s massive shoulders, and Ali and Mikhail pulled his legs. In no time, they had him sprawled on his backside in the wheelbarrow. It took all three of them to wheel him into the room Mikhail had prepared and to unload him onto the raised wooden platform Rashad had insisted his followers build. Mikhail deftly tied Big Jimmy’s hands and feet to the metal hooks he had driven into the platform’s four corners. Tarik threw Ali a pair of scissors. “Cut off his clothes.” “No!” Ali grew nauseous just thinking about seeing the big man naked. With a sharp laugh, Mikhail took the scissors. “I’ll do it. Rashad wants you and Tarik to go after the woman.” “Now?” A fresh spear of anxiety tore into Ali. “I thought we would at least wait until dark.” “Our plans have changed. The police have secured a warrant for the other warehouse. I am sure the man guarding the woman will go with them. He is a detective.” “I understand. If he goes, that will leave only one man watching the house,” Ali said, suddenly feeling empowered. Grabbing the harlot now made perfect sense. He bobbed his head in eager anticipation of his newest assignment. “Of course I will go.” “No. We will go.” Tarik thumped his chest and looked at Ali. “Make sure you are armed, in case we run into trouble.” “What trouble could there be?”

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“You never know with American women.” “That is true,” Ali said, remembering his unsatisfactory interaction with the women at the coffee shop. “I am ready.” He looked at Mikhail. “Do we kill her?” “No. Bring her here.” Mikhail looked up from cutting Jimmy’s shirt and pressed his lips into a tight line. “Rashad wants us to use her tomorrow, during the parade. She will wear a suicide belt.” “An excellent idea.” Tarik’s lips curved. “Should a problem occur, she will be an excellent bargaining chip. If not, she will die in the explosion.” That made perfect sense to Ali. The sooner the attack took place and she was dead, the better for him. His sins would finally be exonerated. His nerves jangled as he followed Tarik to his car. One day soon, he would be a free man. ***** Jadan peeked out the living room window to verify that a detective was still out there in his car, watching the house—and to her great relief, he was. Feeling heartened, she dropped the curtain and tightened her hold on Cole’s gun. He’d said to keep it with her at all times, and she was planning to do just that. It was early afternoon, but the low gray clouds made the house gloomy. She smiled. She liked it that way. With luck, no one could see inside. The gun was heavy in her hand. She longed to take a bath, but she was afraid to get in the shower. She wanted to be able to hear if anyone tried to break in. Her heart thumped like a bass drum, and she peered down at her clothes. They were clean, but she knew she smelled like sex. Her cheeks colored. She hadn’t bathed since she and Cole had done the deed early this morning. A regular bath. Why couldn’t she just sit in the tub and soak for a while? She could prowl the house while the water ran, and then enjoy the water in silence with the gun on the floor beside her. Yes. She hurried into the bathroom and turned on the tap. She could already feel the water’s soothing warmth on her skin, soaking her clean. She closed the bathroom door and strolled back into the kitchen. The detective’s car hadn’t moved. If she narrowed her eyes, she could just make out his bulk in the passenger seat. His presence made her feel much safer, but she still missed Cole. Her mind flew back to the days before she had met him. She’d had no joy in her life, and no excitement except for the grand opening of her coffee shop, and certainly no one who made her heart leap whenever he entered the room. And now— Her shop was being put right after being in shambles and she didn’t know what to make of her and Cole’s relationship. Only yesterday he’d let her know in no uncertain terms that he still held her partially responsible for Kent’s death. Even so, he had offered her his protection. And in the dark of night, he had given in to his body’s urgings and had made hot, passionate love to her. Her flesh grew moist now at the memory.

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She shivered just thinking about him. Never before had a man affected her like this. Her other beaus paled in comparison, and even Kent, who had looked so much like Cole, seemed shallow next to his stalwart twin brother. Jadan rolled her shoulders and rechecked all the doors and windows before returning to the bathroom. The tub was almost full. She stared at the water in great anticipation as she shucked off her clothes. Better to leave the door open, she decided. So she could hear if someone tried to break in. She dug in the cabinet and found a bar of soap, a towel, and a washcloth. Then she put the Glock on the floor beside the tub and prayed she wouldn’t slosh water on it. No waves, she told herself, as she eased herself gingerly into the soothing warm water. Once she stretched out and leaned her head against the wall, she realized just how tired she really was. Her eyelids drooped. To keep herself awake, she picked up the soap and washcloth and scrubbed herself all over. Her neck was tender where Cole had left his mark. She felt her cheeks heat. She hadn’t had a hickey since ninth grade. The warm water lapped over her breasts, and her nipples tightened. Damn Cole for making her act like a love-struck schoolgirl. She squeezed water from the washcloth and brought it to her face. The crisp, clean scent of soap filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and reveled in her renewed sense of calm. A low thud somewhere in the house made her eyelids fly open. She dropped the cloth in the water. Was that Cole? Was he back? Jadan pushed herself up on shaky legs and cringed as water sluiced off her body and into the tub. Her breath rushed out in quiet gasps. With trembling hands, she grabbed the towel and hurriedly dried herself off. Another thump sent her scrambling for her clothes. She’d planned to don clean ones, but there was no time. She dragged on her panties and jeans, stepped into her shoes without socks, and quickly yanked her shirt on over her head without taking time to put on her bra. Her hair massed around her head in a wild tangle. She reached for a brush and heard the low murmur of male voices. Her heart stilled. She whirled and snatched the gun off the floor. Her heart slammed her ribs. She held the pistol like Cole had taught her, but her palms were so sweaty she almost dropped it. Her body quivered with fear. She longed to call out to see if the voices belonged to Cole and Slade, but she was too scared to take the chance. What if they didn’t? Water dripped from the faucet into the filled tub, the sound reverberating in Jadan’s keen ears like nails being driven into soft pine. Sweat pooled in the small of her back. A door slammed nearby, and the voices grew louder. “Ali!” she heard one of them exclaim. Then she heard what sounded like gibberish as they talked back and forth. She went cold. The terrorists had found her. She had no place to hide. The bathroom was tiny. No way could she fit in the cabinet under the sink, and the tub had no shower curtain. It would be flimsy, but better than nothing.

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Tears welled in her eyes. She’d never shot a man. Now, it looked like she had no choice but to pull the trigger. She set her feet and pressed herself to the wall beside the door. Maybe she could send at least one of them to hell, if she could get a jump on them. She heard them enter the bedroom. Her pulse skittered as she listened to them opening and closing drawers. The closet door shut. One of the men spat what sounded like a curse in a foreign tongue. Jadan closed her eyes and sent up a prayer that she wasn’t about to make a grave mistake. One. She began to count. Two. She gripped the gun tightly and held herself rigid. Three! She spun into the open doorway and fired off two quick shots. One of the men shouted and dove to the floor. She glimpsed a shadow to her right, and fired again. The man yelped. His friend came up on all fours and leapt toward her. She aimed at him and squeezed the trigger. Something hard slammed into her hand. She dropped the gun, and her shot went wild. Pain radiated up her arm. She cried out. A male body tackled her and sent her sprawling back into the bathroom. She tried to regain her footing, but her sneakers slipped on the damp floor. The man spewed invectives and dragged her to her feet. She cursed and tried to squirm free. He slapped her, hard. The blow rang in her ears. She saw stars. He wrapped his arms around her mid-section and said something sharp to his friend, who glared at her with dark, hawk-like eyes. A trickle of blood ran down his arm. Morbid satisfaction filled her when she realized she had winged him. All at once, a rancid tasting gag was shoved into her mouth and tied tightly at the back of her head. A smelly black cloth was flung over her face. She again tried to wriggle away, but she couldn’t dislodge his hand from her arm. He held her fast. He kept talking to his partner in that evil-sounding gibberish. Tears filled her eyes. What would they do to her? Something taut was wrapped around her wrists, and she abruptly realized it was some sort of electrical cord. She tried to tear her hands free, and the man hit her again. Fresh pain radiated through her already throbbing skull. She moaned. “Do not fight me, harlot,” the man snapped, his garlicky breath mixing with the wet dog smell of the impenetrable black cloth. She hiccupped as nausea roiled her stomach. He grabbed her arm and shoved her roughly toward the door. “Go. Do not stop.” She stumbled forward, doing her best to keep from falling. Dizziness swamped her. He squeezed her bicep and dragged her along. She recognized the give of carpet beneath her feet as they passed through the bedroom and entered the hall. “Make her hurry, Ali,” the other man growled. “If anyone calls the detective, they will discover he is gone.” Oh, no. Bile rushed up Jadan’s throat. What had they done to him? The idea that the poor man might have been killed guarding her made her physically ill. She choked back the urge to throw up and made herself keep walking. She had to be strong, for Cole. These men had killed his brother. If only she still had his pistol. She might have more of a chance. *****

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Cole pulled out the Glock and checked its magazine. The Durango bumped over the railroad tracks as Slade wheeled it toward the river, which gleamed below them like a fat, sluggish snake. He wished he still had his backup piece, but knew he’d had no choice but to leave it with Jadan. His throat closed up whenever he thought of her inside that strange house, all alone. If anything happened to her— “There they are.” Slade’s snapped words jolted Cole from his thoughts of Jadan. He raised his head to see Baldwyn’s men, a contingent from NOPD’s Intelligence/Homeland Security Division, and a couple of their own detectives, Kevin Jacobs and Doug Barnes, hunkered down next to a peeling brown van a block from the warehouse. Slade brought the Durango to a halt behind the van, and they climbed out. The icy wind whipped Cole’s coat around his legs. Baldwyn stalked over to them. “Where’s our warrant?” “Right here.” Slade pulled it out. Baldwyn nodded and gave it a cursory look. Then he handed it back to Slade and with a sweep of his arm, indicated the strike team in full protective gear. “My boys will hit the place as soon as I say go, and your detectives and I will follow. You’re welcome to come along, as long as you put on a vest. Just don’t touch anything. Your CSU is ready and waiting to process the place.” “Got it.” Cole’s emotions were in such turmoil, he was glad Baldwyn was in charge. He holstered his pistol and dug each of them a stiff Kevlar vest out of the back of Slade’s SUV. He handed one to Slade, took off his coat, and donned his. Its warmth was welcome thanks to the extreme cold. Slade pulled on his vest. “Back or front door?” “Front,” Cole said, his nerves on edge. He wanted this over and done with so he could get back to Jadan as soon as possible. Fear for her permeated his very being. They lined up behind the strike team and pulled their weapons. “Go!” Baldwyn’s barked order carried over the rush of icy wind. The team surged ahead in two distinct units, one heading for the front of the warehouse, the other for the back. Slade veered to the right and followed the team heading for the rear of the building. Cole’s adrenaline kicked in with a vengeance as his team hit the front door with their battering ram. It flew open with a sharp crack and the rank odor of urine hit his nostrils. He fought back the urge to vomit. “Smells like a damned sewer.” The strike team didn’t seem to notice as they funneled into the warehouse, their shouts of “all clear” reverberating off the metal walls. “Fucking place is empty,” Baldwyn snapped as Cole came through the door. His disgust showed on his face. “They’ve been here, though. The whole building reeks of piss.” He motioned to one of the men in riot gear. “Get CSU in here, pronto.” He turned. “The rest of you, get out. We need to preserve the scene.” With a flurry of brisk nods, the men hurried out the way they’d come. Slade and Kevin Jacobs entered a small room off to the side. Cole eyed a stack of empty wooden pallets beside another open door. He walked over to it, and poked his head inside. It smelled like a filthy bathroom—obviously the source of the nasty odor permeating the place. He wrinkled his

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nose. A single chair sat in the middle of the floor, and several dark spots littered the urinestained concrete in front of it. He squatted down beside them. Was it blood? Raised voices from the outer area told him CSU had entered the warehouse. He rose and went back out just in time to hear Baldwyn instruct them to sweep the place for prints, DNA, and anything suspicious. Cole indicated the space he’d just left. “That room might’ve been used to house a prisoner or two. It’s the source of the piss smell. Might have blood in there, too. Check the floor in front of the chair.” “And the office—” Slade came out of it and pointed over his shoulder toward the open door. “There’s not much to it, but you’ll probably want to at least dust for prints.” Jacobs nodded. “Looks like somebody left here in a big hurry.” Cole rubbed his neck as CSU went to work. Anxiety niggled just under his skin, like a cockle burr under a saddle blanket. He needed to get back to the house. If only Jadan had a telephone. He spat an expletive. He should have left his cell phone with her, and used Slade’s to call and check on her. “She’ll be okay,” Slade said, obviously noticing his discomfiture. “Jadan’s tough, like Marisa. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” “I hope to hell you’re right.” Cole looked away. He hated that Slade had picked up on the reason for his nervousness. But he shouldn’t be surprised, considering Slade and Marisa’s turbulent history. Slade looked at Jacobs. “I thought you were guarding the house.” “I was, but one of Baldwyn’s goons spelled me late last night so I could get some shut eye.” He yawned. “Hell, I’m still beat from running surveillance at those apartments.” “Get used to it,” Cole snapped. “Half of being a detective is sitting on your ass all night.” Slade sent him a warning glare. Cursing himself for his sharp words, Cole stalked away. The stress was really getting to him. Jacobs suddenly appeared beside him. “I don’t want you thinking I’m a slacker, Commander. So believe me, I’m not complaining. My family is full of cops. I know what I’m up against. When I was in uniform, I worked surveillance plenty of times. It’s no picnic, but I survived.” “It’s all right, Jacobs.” Cole blew out a harsh breath. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” “You must be worried about Ms. Calloway.” “To put it mildly.” He quirked his mouth. “I don’t like her being in that house all alone.” “Commander!” Baldwyn’s strident voice startled Cole. He turned to see the beefy agent motioning to him from the door to the reeking cell. “You were right,” he called out. “We’ve got blood in here.” Cole’s stomach plummeted. Some poor soul might have died in there. If those men got their hands on Jadan— He turned to Jacobs. “Take me back to the house. Right now.” “I thought you wanted to wait until CSU finished up.” Slade lifted his eyebrows.

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“I’ve changed my mind.” Cole knew he was being irrational, but he couldn’t help it. The people who had killed Kent were brutal men, and Jadan might very well be in their crosshairs. He should never have left her alone in that damned house. “You stay here. Call me when you have something.” “You know I will.” Slade pinned him with those hard, knowing eyes. “As long as you quit lying to yourself.” Cole made a fist. Damn Slade for making him zero in on his turbulent emotions and his bogus claim that Jadan meant nothing to him. Jacobs pulled out his keys. “Ready, Commander?” “You bet.” Cole shot Slade one last damning look, and turned on his heel. He beat Jacobs to the car. ***** The wet dog odor in the black cloth over Jadan’s head got worse with every step she took. She held her breath and tried not to suck in any contaminants as they passed through the kitchen. The gag prevented her from getting much air through her mouth, so she had no choice but to draw in the fetid air through her nose. Her stomach roiled. He led her out a door and into the damp afternoon air. Moisture beaded on her skin as he dragged her through the grass to the edge of the driveway’s broken concrete driveway. Her foot slipped in some loose pebbles. A door opened. “Get in.” She balked. Get into what? A car? A truck? No way. She shook her head and tried to protest, but her lips stuck to the rancid gag. “No!” came out as a thick grunt. Something hard slammed between her shoulder blades, and pain radiated through her limbs. She cried out and went down on one knee. “Get up and get in the car, or I will hit you again!” The man’s angry voice reverberated in her ears. She fought to regain control of her legs. What had he hit her with? A board? A gun? Dizziness overtook her when she tried to stand. She swayed sideways. A hand tugged on her elbow. “Get up, or you will die here in the wet grass where your boyfriend will discover your broken body.” Just stay alive, and know that I’ll find you. You have my word. Cole’s determined words rang in Jadan’s ears as she staggered to her feet. No way could she let these men simply kill her. Not without a fight. She had to find a way to interrupt their plans—not just to save herself, but the city and country as well. To do that, she had to keep breathing. She raised her foot in what she hoped was the right direction and winced when a pair of rough hands grabbed her arms. She was shoved onto what felt like a narrow bench seat. The car’s sour smell rose up to mix with the wet dog odor of the hood, and she choked back a fresh surge of bile. A man climbed in beside her and pushed her up against the opposite door. Then he slammed his door and shouted something in gibberish to the driver, who hopped in and started the engine. “Go,” the man beside her ordered, and the car jerked away from the curb.

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Jadan’s stomach turned over. The blow to her cheek had raised a knot that stretched her skin. She felt her face swelling. Her back hurt, too. She hunkered down in the seat and struggled to regulate her breathing through the filthy cloth and gag. She had to be smart and think fast on her feet, so she could escape. It was hard to move with her hands tied behind her back. She squirmed to ease the pain in her shoulders, and the man beside her grunted. “Be still.” She bit down on the stale gag. If only she’d been able to hang on to the pistol— They drove for miles, and it seemed to Jadan like they were going in circles. Nausea bubbled up her throat. She prayed she wouldn’t vomit in the car, because if she did they just might kill her. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the car slowed and its wheels crunched gravel. Jadan sat up as the vehicle halted briefly, then surged forward. This time, it left the gravel and bumped onto a smooth space. Her mind raced. Had they entered a parking lot? A highway? A closed garage? The car ground to a halt and the door beside her popped open. Before she could react, she was dragged from the vehicle and the cloth was ripped from her face. Her eyes burned. Struggling to breathe around the gag, she looked around wildly. They were in a warehouse. It was long, with brown metal walls and a stained concrete floor. The place was empty except for a stack of crates and shrink-wrapped pallets in one corner. The man beside her grabbed her arm, and she looked up. A big mole marred his left cheek. She shrieked and jerked free. It was the man from the coffee shop!

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CHAPTER NINE

Jadan’s back slammed into the car. She reeled sideways as the man with the mole advanced on her. Another scream caught in her throat. She tried to twist away from him, but he fisted his hand in her shirt and pulled her against his wiry body. “Shouting into that filthy cloth will do you no good,” he growled in perfect English. “Come with me.” He jerked her away from the car and hauled her toward an open door. Bright white light hit Jadan’s eyes. Her knees wobbled. She blinked, and opened her eyes to see an angry red-faced man with a thick black beard sitting behind a beat up brown desk. The man with the mole shoved her forward. “Here she is.” She lost her balance and fell to her knees on the dirty carpet. She tried to regain her footing, but the man at the desk rose and stayed her with his hand. “Do not move,” he growled, rounding the desk. “You will look up to me.” Jadan hated that her hands were tied behind her. She had no way to protect herself. He towered over her and laughed. “This is the woman who will disrupt our attacks?” The man with the mole nodded. The bearded man laughed harder, his harsh cackle ricocheting off the metal walls to chill Jadan’s skin. He flipped up a lock of her hair. “She is a mouse.” Jadan’s trembling stopped, and she squared her shoulders. A mouse? She’d show them a mouse. Fueled by anger and desperation, she rocketed off her knees and butted him hard in the gut with her head, doubling him over and sending him crashing against an empty filing cabinet. Jadan stumbled to her feet. The other man tried to grab her, but she fended him off with a kick to the groin. He cried out. The bearded man regained his balance and shouted something in gibberish, and then dove for her. She dodged him, but his hand caught her blouse. The other man from the car bolted into the room holding a cell phone. Jadan tried to squirm away from Bearded One, but he gripped her arms and spun her around. “Hit her,” he ordered the man. She braced herself for a blow, but he stuck the phone to her side instead and the man behind her let her go. She abruptly realized the device wasn’t a cell phone and tried to wrench away, but the jolt of electricity from the stun gun stopped her cold. Her feet left the floor. Hot bile rushed into her mouth, and her arms and legs went limp. Pain arrowed through her heart. She crumpled to the floor.

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“See? She is a mouse.” The Bearded One used his boot to roll her onto her back. Then he spit on her. Jadan jerked. Her eyes went wide, and nausea rolled through her. His spittle sat on her cheek. She couldn’t wipe it off. He laughed. “Isn’t that right, Ali? A disgusting, weak little mouse.” Ali limped toward them, his feet stopping near Jadan’s head. The Bearded One snickered. “He is afraid of you, Tarik.” “Leave him alone,” Tarik said sharply. “He has become a vital part of our plan.” “It is obvious he wishes to regain his honor,” the Bearded One said. “Still, he has much work to do. Do you not, Ali?” “Yes, Rashad.” “If not for him, we would not have found the woman.” Tarik put the stun gun in his pocket. “You forget much too easily.” Bearded One’s dark eyes gleamed. “If not for him, we would not have needed to find her.” Ali reeled as if the man had struck him, and Jadan saw fear and loathing in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he would be useful as an ally—if only her muscles would cooperate. Her tongue was thick in her mouth. She tried to swallow, but her throat wouldn’t work. She could hear her heart beating. The men above her kept talking, but their voices sounded far away. Until finally, one of them nudged her with his boot. “Once she can move, get her up and take her to visit our large friend. Maybe that will keep her from trying to escape.” “Yes, sir.” Ali bobbed his head. The two other men left, leaving Jadan alone with him. Her foot twitched. She tried to roll over, but only managed to flop on the dirty floor. A tingle soared up her spine, and she wondered if perhaps she was paralyzed. Tears filled her eyes. “The feeling will wear off,” Ali rasped, stepping closer. “I promise you. Lie still.” She blinked up at him, and he pressed his mouth into a grim line and squatted next to her. “I know, because they did it to me.” She blinked and socked away that knowledge along with the hope that maybe he really would help her. She tried to speak, but only a muffled groan worked its way around the gag. A cell phone rang in his pocket. He babbled something, and yanked it out. His eyes widened as he peered down at the display. He turned it off, and returned it to his pocket. His face creased into a frown. “Do not try to escape. Your only hope is to cooperate.” No way. She would never cooperate with terrorists. She shook her head. “Fine. Choose that path—” Ali sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “And you will die.” Jadan went numb with fear. She longed to ask him how, but that was impossible. All she could do was flop around on the carpet and make unintelligible moans. Cole! Her mind latched onto the picture she had of him in her mind. He was tough and smart, and very good at being a cop. She loved him, and maybe he— A lone tear streaked down her face. Oh God. She loved him. What if she never saw him again? That thought terrified her more than anything the terrorists might do to her.

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She gritted her teeth in the gag and threw herself sideways. This time, her body worked. She rolled onto her side and flexed her fingers. Her arms ached from the jolt of electricity. But maybe, just maybe, she could revive herself enough to fight back. She had to hold out until Cole found her. ***** Cole rechecked the Glock’s magazine on the way back to the house. He’d already examined it at least ten times within the last hour, but he couldn’t help it. A hundred terrifying scenarios kept running through his head. The worst ones wouldn’t leave. He kept seeing Jadan lying bloody and battered and barely clinging to life on the kitchen floor, or finding the house empty, in which case he’d have no idea where the terrorists had taken her. Or she could be dead. That possibility terrified him most of all. His heart thumped as they skirted the south end of City Park. He turned to Jacobs, who wore a tight frown. “Can’t you make this car go any faster?” “I’m over the limit as it is.” “This is an emergency, damn it,” Cole snapped. Jacobs shot him a narrow look. “I’m doing fifty-five in a thirty.” Cole hung on as the young detective took the next turn without slowing down. The sedan’s tires squealed. With a sharp curse, Cole grabbed the dashboard. Jacobs lurched around two more corners, and all at once they were in front of the safe house. He wheeled the car into the driveway and killed the engine. A remarkable silence filled the vehicle. Cole broke out in a cold sweat. His hand shook as he opened the door and levered himself out into the icy air. The neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet. Yet nothing looked amiss. He gripped the Glock so tightly his hand hurt. “I’ve got the back,” he said, eyeing the closed garage. “You take the front.” “Fine.” Jacobs nodded briskly and pulled out his weapon. Cole waited for the young detective to hop up onto the miniscule front porch. Then he hustled around to the back of the house. Nothing moved, except the trees along the edge of the yard bending in the icy wind. His pulse jackhammered in his chest. He tried the doorknob. Locked. That was good. He swallowed, hard. Then he rapped lightly on the scarred wood. “Jadan?” No answer. The wind kicked up, stirring a pile of dead leaves beside the stoop. A ripple of dread skittered down his spine. He steeled himself and knocked again, this time louder. The sound echoed like gunshots in the startling silence. Nothing. Something was dead wrong. He heard Jacobs pounding on the front door. He got no answer either, that Cole could tell. A cold wave of fear raised the hackles on the back of his neck. He fisted the Glock and threw his shoulder against the door. Once. Twice. On the third try, the doorjamb cracked. Pain radiated down his arm. He ignored it and threw himself against the door one last time.

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It slammed open with a sharp crack and bounced off the inner wall. He caught it on the rebound and bolted into the house. A loud crash from the living room told him Jacobs had entered, too. The kitchen was in shambles. Drawers hung open, pots and pans littered the floor, and the broken coffee carafe lay in the sink. Yet it was the terrifying silence that froze Cole in place. He heard no footsteps except for Jacobs’, no rousing welcome from Jadan. No sound at all, except the walls creaking like old bones in the rising wind. He slowly wound his way through the debris and met Jacobs in hall. “The living room’s a mess.” The young detective set his mouth in a grim line. “Any sign of Jadan?” “No.” Numb from head to toe, Cole gripped the pistol in one icy hand. “Check upstairs. I’ve got the bedroom.” Where they had made love. Jacobs nodded, and quickly disappeared up the steps. Cole’s heart rose into his throat as he entered the bedroom. The closet door was ajar, clothes lay scattered all over the bed, and the chair beside the window had been turned upside down. He smelled soap. His heart throbbed as he checked the closet and edged into the tiny bathroom. Puddles of water covered the floor, and a damp towel lay in a heap beside the tub. Jadan had taken a bath. Fear curdled in Cole’s veins. Had she been surprised while she was naked? Not wanting to speculate, he turned and eyed the bedroom. He was trained to notice details. Only right now, nothing stood out. Until his gaze locked on the far wall and he zeroed in on a small hole about a foot from the door. A bullet hole. His breath sawed out. He started over to examine it, and spotted the butt of his backup pistol sticking out from under the dresser. Goosebumps prickled his skin. He grabbed a paper towel from the bathroom and used it to pick up the little Glock. His hands shook as he checked the magazine. Two rounds were missing. He cursed. Jacobs pounded down the stairs and slipped into the bedroom. “All clear upstairs. No sign of Jadan. No mess, no nothing. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been up there.” “They found her in here.” Cole scowled and pocketed the pistol. “She’s gone, but I’m thinking she put up a fight. Shots were fired.” “In this room?” Jacobs’ eyebrows rose. He looked around, and finally spotted the bullet hole. “I’ll be damned.” “My sentiments exactly. Call CSU. Get them over here as fast as you can.” Jacobs pulled out his cell phone. Cole slid past him and entered the hall. His heart thumped as he dragged out his own phone and called Slade. The detective answered on the second ring. “They’ve got her.” Cole’s voice broke. “The house has been ransacked. Jacobs is calling CSU. Damn it, Slade. I found the pistol I’d left with her. Two rounds are missing and there’s a bullet hole—“ Slade let out a flurry of sharp expletives. “Stay put. I’m on my way.” “Are you still at the warehouse with Baldwyn?” “Yeah, I am.” Slade’s tone was grim. “CSU found more traces of blood, urine, and C4.”

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“Holy shit.” Cole’s stomach plummeted. Explosives. “We have to find them.” “I tried to call Big Jimmy, but he didn’t answer his cell phone. Somebody cut it off.” Cole frowned. “Why are you still after him?” “His suppliers hang around the warehouse district, meaning he spends a lot of time there. I thought that maybe since he’d seen the men the first time—” “Gotcha. Keep trying to get him.” “I will, on my way over there. Hang tight, okay?” “Yeah. Will you fill Baldwyn in? He needs to know Jadan has been kidnapped.” Cole rubbed his brow. “I need to meet CSU and see if they can come up with anything.” “Sure. I’ll tell him.” “Slade—” Cole’s throat closed up, and the word came out as a croak. “I have to find her.” “Don’t worry. We’re gonna make that happen.” Cole clenched his fist as he ended the call. First Leah, and now Jadan. If she died too— Jacobs came up behind him. “CSU is on their way.” “Good. Let’s go outside,” Cole said, his eyes raking the mess in the floor. “So we don’t disturb anything else.” His nerves thrummed as he picked his way through the trashed living room to the open front door. Where could the terrorists have taken her? To another warehouse? Another city? She could be anywhere in the damned country by now. His gut tightened. If only he hadn’t gone with Slade to storm that damned warehouse. Jacobs followed him outside into the icy air. Cole looked up. The clouds seem lower than before, the day colder and more ominous. A growing ache filled his heart. How had he gotten so close to Jadan in such a short time? She had been with Kent the night he died, yet somehow that no longer mattered. What did make a difference was how Cole felt about her. No woman had ever gotten this deep under his skin— except for Leah. He had fallen in love with Jadan. He gritted his teeth as a surge of panic momentarily threatened his resolve, but CSU picked that moment to wheel into the driveway and he quickly tamped it down. He had to focus on finding evidence and discovering where they had taken Jadan. Her life, his happiness—and the safety of the city of New Orleans—depended on it. ***** The agonized scream ripped into Jadan’s nightmare. She jerked awake, and terror stole over her. Had she really heard that awful sound, or had it been her imagination? She tried to sit up, and pain radiated down her arm. Her hands were still fastened behind her. But at least she could move. Another shriek made her nearly leap out of her skin. Her blood turned to ice. Who could that be? Sweat coated her face. She looked around frantically. She was alone in the tiny office, with the door closed. Probably locked. She was a prisoner of the men who’d tried to kill her.

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Jadan gulped back her fear and levered herself onto her knees. Every muscle in her body ached. That stun gun had really done a number on her. She took a deep breath and struggled awkwardly to her feet. Her legs didn’t want to hold her. She leaned against the filing cabinet until she got her balance. Somehow, she had to escape. Her gaze fell on the frosted window behind the desk. It was small and pretty high up, but if she stood on the desk she just might be able to shimmy outside. She crept over to it and examined the frame. It was locked, but the lock looked simple enough to operate. Her bound wrists hampered her. Without her hands being free, she couldn’t do anything. Another scream started her. The agonized sound seemed to echo inside her head. Her heart beat harder. She sat on the edge of the desk, pushed herself back, and put her feet in the chair. Maybe she could stand up. Her eyes locked on the window. She threw her weight forward. The door opened. She twisted, and the chair flew out from under her. She landed on her back with a hard thud. Pain rocketed through her arms, which were beneath her. She cried out. Ali rushed over to her. “What do you think you are doing?” She couldn’t speak. It hurt too much. “Stupid woman.” His gaze rose to the window. “You were trying to escape. Weren’t you?” Jadan moaned. Her left arm felt like it was broken. She held herself rigid. He glared down at her with contempt. “I told you how to stay alive. To cooperate.” “No!” she shouted, the word muffled. She bit down on the gag and pushed herself up. Pain ambushed her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. But she didn’t let that stop her. She levered herself onto her knees, and then gingerly stood up. Ali kept staring at her. “You are a fool.” “Take out the gag.” She jutted her chin and hoped he’d understand. “Please.” His black eyes narrowed. “I’m begging you.” She met his dark gaze. “It’s cutting into my mouth.” The words came out all muffled and fuzzy, like her head felt. He glared at her a moment longer, then used his finger to direct her. “Turn around.” She did, and he reluctantly undid the tight knot at the back of her head. The fetid gag fell away. Relief filled her, and she greedily gulped in the clammy air. Her lips were dry and cracked. She ran her tongue over them. “I’m thirsty.” “I will get you water, if you will promise to obey me.” He pocketed the gag. His eyes roamed down her body. “Stay here, away from the door. And do not try to escape. It is hopeless.” “I promise.” Jadan agreed, because she knew she needed sustenance. Without it, even if she did manage to escape, she wouldn’t get very far. So she pressed her back to the wall and tried to appear non-threatening. “Go, please. Bring me something to drink.” “Once I do, you must do as my leader has instructed.” He turned and disappeared out the door. Her heart raced. What was he talking about? Was he going to hurt her?

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Ali burst back into the room carrying a water bottle. He slapped it down on the desk. “There it is. Drink.” “How?” She stared at him a moment, and then turned so he could see her bound arms. “I’m still tied. If you would undo me, it would be great. My arms hurt like hell.” “No.” His cheeks turned the color of a ripe eggplant. He spouted several lines of gibberish and snatched the water off the desk. He unscrewed the top and approached her. She tensed. “I promise I won’t try anything. Please untie me.” “Not without Rashad’s direction.” He shoved the bottle in her face. “Here. Drink.” She opened her mouth and did her best to catch the cool liquid as he poured it in the general direction of her mouth. It splashed down her chin and onto her blouse. What she did manage to swallow tasted delicious. She licked her damp lips. Ali grunted and put the cap back on the bottle. “Now, you must come with me.” “Where are we going?” “You will find out soon enough.” He started for the door. “Follow me.” She hesitated, but after he sent her another dark look she wobbled after him. Her legs still weren’t working correctly after that powerful shock. He opened the door and pulled out a knife. Fear plunged through her. She halted. “What are you doing?” “Insuring that you will obey.” His lips curled up in a sneer as he waggled the knife. “Understand?” She took a step back and nodded. “Come.” He gripped her elbow and yanked her into the main part of the warehouse. The air there was much cooler, and she shivered. To the right of the door was a table, and two men sat beside it applying black tape to a series of metal canisters. On the table was a box of green putty. Jadan frowned. “What’s that?” “Something you will soon be wearing,” one man said with a laugh. The other man joined him. Ali pulled her forward and snapped, “Leave her alone. We must go.” She closed her mouth and allowed him to lead her toward a closed door at the end of the long building. “What are they talking about?” “You do not need to know.” He halted in front of the door and put away his knife. “You are about to see something meant to frighten you. What has happened to this man will happen to you should you try to escape or alert the authorities.” Jadan digested that as he opened the door. A strong urine odor rushed out to engulf her. She gagged and turned around. No way was she going in there. Ali grabbed her arm. “You must go in.” “No.” She tried to twist away. He pulled out his knife, dragged her up against him, and pressed it against her throat. “Go into the room and take a good long look at what is left of a man who talked too much.” The last promise Cole gave her echoed in her head. Just stay alive, and know that I’ll find you. You have my word.. She closed her eyes. He was counting on her to survive. She had to do this.

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Ali shoved her forward into the room. Jadan caught her balance and gasped at the horrifying sight before her. A large naked man lay sprawled on a raised wooden platform with a gag in his mouth and his arms and legs tied at odd angles. Weeping red cuts covered much of his massive body, and blood flowed freely from a fresh cut to his stomach. Mikhail stood over him with a blood covered knife. A tiny grin lit his face. Another dark-haired man stood behind the large man’s head holding an electric drill. He inserted a clean bit into it and sent Jadan a calculating look. “Oh my God,” Jadan said softly. They were torturing the poor man, which had resulted in the urine smell. The agony on his face was overwhelming. Bile rushed up her throat. The man with the drill pressed the button, and the drill bit whirred. Below it, the man on the platform screamed in anticipation of the coming pain. Jadan cringed as she realized she’d been awakened by the sound of his torture. Tears formed in her eyes. She turned to Ali. “Make them stop.” “I cannot.” “You have to.” She turned and confronted the man with the drill. “Why are you doing this? What did he do? You can’t possibly think this is right. This is America. We don’t do this here.” “We will do whatever we deem necessary to defeat you, our sworn enemy.” Mikhail glared at her over the man’s body with angry eyes. Then he lowered the knife and cut into the man’s shiny skin. Blood flowed down his side and, the man’s scream tore into Jadan’s heart. She let out a shriek of her own and rushed the man with the drill, taking him by surprise and almost bowling him over. He dropped the instrument and the plug snapped out of the wall. He let go a string of gibberish and she drove past him. Her body quivered with fury as she threw herself at Mikhail, who deftly sidestepped her and shoved her, hard. His mocking laughter pierced her soul. Once she regained her footing, he slammed her against the wall with his hard body and waved the knife in her face. She drew in the revolting scents of fresh blood and body odor. “Do not cross me, you harlot.” His breath reeked of garlic. “I am paid to produce pain, and I am good at it. If you try to run, I will make you pay. That is the reason Ali brought you here.” The man with the drill plugged it back in and pressed the button. It whirred, and the large man screamed. Jadan shoved at Mikhail and slid free of his hold. Her chest heaved as she struggled for air. Tears trickled down her face and neck. “How can you do this?” she asked, horror bubbling up to choke her. “He’s a man, just like you. A fellow human being. I know he didn’t—” “You know nothing,” Mikhail spat. He stomped closer. “He talked too much. To the wrong people. The police. They raided our warehouse. He had to be stopped.” “He has been.” She raised her chin in defiance. “Why are you still hurting him?” “Because he must pay for what he has done. It is divine retribution.” “He has endured enough of your torture.” She looked down at the poor man, whose wide, terrified eyes were locked on her face. “Let him go.” “I am not finished.” Mikhail’s mouth curled into a sneer. He looked at Ali. “Get her out of here. Or I will be forced to cut my first woman.”

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Ali, his eyes never once landing on the man on the platform, scurried around it like a trained dog and grabbed her arm. His rough hold bruised her skin, yet she wouldn’t make a sound. Her pain was so much less than that of the man that she felt guilty for feeling any pain at all. Moisture clouded her vision as Ali dragged her from the room. Jadan felt as though a marble slab lay on her chest. Every time she heard another one of the poor man’s piercing screams, a little bit of her heart died. Ali took her back to the tiny office and shoved her inside. His hand gripped the doorknob, but she whipped around and blocked him from closing the door. “Untie me.” “No.” He shook his head. “I cannot.” “Look, Ali.” She lowered her voice. “I know you hate what they are doing in that room. I can see it on your face.” He looked away. “If you’ll help me—” She leaned forward so only he could hear her. “I’ll go to the police and tell them about you. That you helped me escape. I have a friend—” “Commander McAlister.” Ali jerked his harsh gaze to her face. “I know who he is. You sleep with him, yet he is not your husband.” She blinked. “You are a harlot. You must die.” He shoved her inside the room and slammed the door. Angry tears filled Jadan’s eyes as the lock slid home. She was trapped by zealots willing to do anything to further their cause. How would Cole find her? Would she ever be free? Or was she destined to die like the poor bleeding man strapped to that platform? Another loud scream rent the air, and Jadan turned toward the tiny window. Maybe somehow, someone would hear him. She prayed that they would. Because despite Cole’s firm vow to find her, she was beginning to lose hope. ***** Cole waited impatiently on the front porch as CSU made a thorough sweep of the house. The air was ice cold and the wind whipped his coat around his thighs, but he barely noticed it. All he could think about was Jadan, all alone with a terrorist cell bent on destroying New Orleans, and his heart ached. He had no idea how to find her. The growl of an engine behind him made him whip around just in time to see a sleek black sedan pull to a halt at the curb. Baldwyn climbed out of the passenger seat and slammed the door. Cole stalked down the steps and crossed the spongy lawn. “What have you got? Anything?” “No.” The big man frowned. “Wish I had better news for you.” “Where’s Slade?” Cole looked past the Homeland Security agent and scanned the street. Empty, except for the car that had contained the agent watching the house. “I thought he was with you.”

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“He ran by your precinct for a minute.” Baldwyn eyed the non-descript car across the street. “Still no sign of Hankins?” “No.” “Damn it. He’s got three kids.” The flame of anger inside Cole’s chest grew brighter. “Son of a bitch.” “Commander!” One of the CSU team called from the end of the house. Cole turned. “We’ve got a man down back here. He’s bloody, but breathing.” “Hankins?” Baldwyn looked at Cole. “Maybe. Let’s go.” Cole led the burly man across the lawn and around the house to the back yard. Sure enough, a tall man lay sprawled beneath a thick line of shrubs. No wonder he hadn’t seen him from the house. He looked at Baldwyn. “Is it your guy?” “Yeah.” Baldwyn knelt beside the man, whose face was bloody and bruised. “Hankins?” He didn’t answer. He seemed to be unconscious. Baldwyn levered himself to his feet. “We need EMS out here now.” “I’ve already called ‘em,” the CSU man said. “They’re en route.” “Good.” Baldwyn looked Cole. “What about the house? Did you find anything inside?” “A slug in the bedroom wall.” His stomach turned over. “Looks like one of mine.” Baldwyn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t get any ideas,” Cole snapped, as he started back around to the front of the house. Baldwyn accompanied him. “I left Jadan my backup piece. I’m thinking she was defending herself. But I don’t really know what happened.” “We can only hope she winged one of the bastards.” “That’s the other thing. Blood. CSU found a few drops on the bedroom carpet.” “Have your lab put a rush on it. We need DNA from Jadan so we can match it.” “She didn’t bring anything with her.” Cole frowned. “CSU could check the bed, where she slept and maybe the hairbrush in the bathroom. Wait—I know she brushed her teeth.” “A toothbrush will work.” Baldwyn nodded. One of the CSU techs stepped out onto the front porch. “Commander? We’re all done in here.” “No, you’re not. I need you to bag the red toothbrush in the downstairs bathroom and run any DNA you can find on it against the blood on the bedroom floor,” Cole said. “Got that? And make sure you tell the lab to make it, the slug, and anything else you found a priority.” “Yes, sir.” The man disappeared inside and shut the door just as Slade’s Durango barreled down the street and into the driveway. He pulled to a stop beside the CSU van. “There’s your man.” Baldwyn smirked. “I’m gonna go talk to the mayor about raising the city’s threat level.” “He’ll never go for that. It would mean canceling the rest of the parades.” “I can try. Let me know if you get a lead.”

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“You’ve got it.” Cole angled across the grass toward Slade, who was shaking hands with one of the techs loading up their supplies. He turned to Cole. “Glad you’re here. I may have something.” “What is it?” Cole’s nerves sang with renewed energy. Slade led him away from the van. “Remember how I told you I kept trying to get Big Jimmy, and somebody cut off his phone?” “Yeah.” “I figured that meant he still had it with him.” “You still haven’t located him?” “Not yet.” Slade shook his head. “But I asked around and found out he made a return trip to Café du Monde for more beignets, and he got sick. A couple of swarthy guys in a ratty Saab volunteered to take him home.” “Swarthy. You mean, as in the ones we’re looking for?” “That’s right. And one of ‘em had a big mole on his left cheek,” Slade said, confirming Cole’s suspicions. “They have Big Jimmy.” “Son of a bitch. If his cell phone has GPS, we should be able to find them.” “My thoughts exactly.” Slade crooked his mouth. “I stopped by one of his cell phone carriers’ stores on the way over here. He has one of the latest GPS models. God only knows where he got the money for that.” “Who cares?” Hope leapt in Cole’s chest. “Can they do a trace?” “I’ve already called it in. The techs downtown are doing what they can. Depends on a lot of things. Battery life, whether he still has it with him—” Cole pulled out his car keys. “I’m heading downtown to light a fire under Tech.” “It’ll take you at least an hour.” Slade blocked his path to his car, which was hemmed in by CSU. “The Orpheus Parade just started. And when you do make it, you’ll just be in the way. I told ‘em to call you soon as they have something. You need to take it easy.” “I can’t.” Cole didn’t like waiting on a good day, and today definitely did not fall into that category. “I need to be there.” “Trust me, Cole.” Slade got in his face. “It won’t help. We’ll have better luck in the French Quarter, if we can get there.” “Where they picked up Big Jimmy.” Renewed excitement began to build in Cole’s chest, and he reveled in the usual thrill he got from the hunt. Only this time, it was much more personal. “It’s also fairly close to the first warehouse. They could be in the same area.” “That’s what I’m thinking.” Slade nodded. “It makes better sense for us to go for that angle rather than sitting at Tech and Support waiting on them to get a signal from Big Jimmy’s phone. Though it won’t be easy learning anything new with all the tourists milling around. Unless they can tell us something.” “I doubt our guys like to party.” Cole shoved his keys back into his pocket. “Let’s take the Durango. My car’s blocked in.” They climbed into the SUV and Cole called Baldwyn to tell him he was leaving. “Fine. I’ll call the Feds,” the agent said. “We need all the help we can get.” Cole had to agree. It was already six o’clock, and tomorrow was Mardi Gras. D-Day, according to the calendar Jadan had seen on the shooter’s PDA. His stomach clenched. There

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were three parades in the city tonight, and four tomorrow. They had to find her in a hurry, or they might be too late. ***** Jadan lay on her side on the smelly carpet trying to untie the electrical cord binding her wrists. Her shoulders ached from having them tied behind her for so long. Her left arm was numb. Yet she kept working her hands back and forth, hoping the cord would eventually loosen. The door swung open, and Ali marched in. “Get up.” “Why?” She rolled over so he wouldn’t guess what she’d been doing. Her stomach rumbled. He walked over to her and yanked her up. The room spun. She staggered sideways. He held on to her arm with a punishing grip. Trying to make him let go, she planted her feet and twisted away from him. Desperation filled her. “Let go of me.” “Are you all right?” He dropped his hand. She scowled at him. “Why should you care?” “You seem disoriented.” “I haven’t had anything to eat, and my arms hurt. You won’t untie me.” “I cannot do that. I am under orders to keep—” “Screw your damned orders.” His hand lashed out and he slapped her, so hard she lurched backward into the filing cabinet. She cried out and slid to the floor. Hot tears burned her eyes. She looked up at him. “Why did you do that?” “You have a filthy mouth.” “Let me go,” she pleaded. “And you’ll never have to hear me speak again.” “Be quiet,” he snapped. He reached down and jerked her to her feet. “Or I will return the gag to your mouth.” Her cheek burned, and she knew without looking that it carried the imprint of his hand. She fought not to cry as he gripped her elbow and yanked her toward the door. At least she hadn’t heard any screams lately. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. He opened the door and shoved her toward the table right outside. “Here she is. Put it on her.” “You will have to untie her.” Ali’s face darkened. “Rashad said not to.” “Is she to wear the vest?” The man came to his feet and glared at Ali. “If not, leave her tied. I cannot put it on her with her hands bound.” Ali stared at him. Then he pushed Jadan toward them. “Fine. Do it, David.” Her heart leapt. Yes. If she was untied, maybe she could escape. David turned her around and quickly dispensed with the cords binding her wrists. Her arms fell to her sides, and pain seized her shoulders. After a few false starts, she cradled her sore left arm. It was blue and swollen. Tears filled her eyes. “Face David,” Ali ordered.

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She turned around. She longed to wipe her eyes, but her arms hurt too much for her to raise them just yet. David picked up a black garment from a box beside him and held it out. “Put this on.” Jadan stared at the canvas vest, which had thick pockets. A hunting vest? Body armor? She frowned. Then all at once she spotted a maze of wires intricately woven into the design, and she knew. It was a bomb vest. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She broke out in a cold sweat. “Give it to me,” Ali growled. He snatched it from David and held it out. “Here. Take it.” She shook her head and backed away. “No.” “You don’t have a choice.” Ali grabbed her arm. “Put it on.” “I don’t want to die.” She swallowed. She’d promised Cole she’d do whatever she could to stay alive. Putting on a suicide vest didn’t figure into that equation. “Please.” Ali pulled out his knife and waved it in her face. “Put on the vest.” Jadan’s hands shook. Her left arm wouldn’t work, so she took the garment in her right hand and acted like she was about to shrug into it. She looked at Ali. “Move back. I need more room.” He hesitated, and then took a step backwards. Jadan threw the vest at David and took off across the warehouse at a dead sprint, the small metal front door in her sights. It butted up against a large rolling door, and she spotted a button for that one on the wall. Ali shouted something in a foreign tongue. His footsteps echoed behind her. David’s loud whoop reverberated in the enclosed space. Jadan slapped the button to raise the big door and grabbed the other door’s handle. It was locked. Terror streaked through her as the larger door began to rise. Ali dove for her, and she lurched sideways. He slammed into the wall. She ducked and threw herself under the rolling door as it began to rise. Pain arrowed up her sore arm as she skidded on the hard concrete and into the gravel beyond it. She scrambled to her knees, and then Ali was on her, slamming her back into the hard gravel. Grit filled her mouth. His weight came down on her sore arm and she screamed. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head backwards. “Stupid bitch! You cannot escape me.” His spittle landed on her face. He rolled off her and jerked her to her feet. Tiny pebbles and sand clung to her clothes. He dragged her back into the building by her hair and hit the button to send the large door down again. Pain spread across her scalp. He released her hair and shoved her ahead of him. She stumbled. With a growl, he kicked her, sending her sprawling on the cold concrete. She cried out and her breath slid out in harsh gasps. She lay very still, hoping he would think she was unconscious. It didn’t work. He grabbed her sore arm and dragged her to her feet. Her stomach roiled from the pain. Tears obscured her vision. Cole, I’m so sorry. The words bounced around inside her head. She longed to touch him and tell him just how sorry she was. That she loved him. Her heart swelled as she remembered his hungry kisses, his tight hugs. The frantic way he’d made love to her, like he could never get enough.

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It simply wasn’t fair. She’d finally found someone with whom she felt safe, who could take the sting out of the upheaval in her life. And now—the pain in her heart grew stronger. She tried to jerk free of Ali’s strong hold. But he held her fast and dragged her toward David and certain death. She gritted her teeth and stared at the suicide vest. Cole…I’ll try to be strong for you.

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CHAPTER TEN

Frustration boiled through Cole as he slammed back into the Durango in front of Café du Monde. He and Slade had just finished re-questioning the counter attendants and waiters, and they hadn’t learned anything new. His nerves crawled with excess energy. Slade banged in beside him and twisted the key. The vehicle roared to life. “I was hoping we’d find another witness.” “Me, too. But it was a total bust.” Cole scowled. “Let’s go back to the warehouse. We never canvassed the neighborhood properly. I want to know if anyone there saw anything.” “It’s worth a try.” Slade turned the SUV around and retraced the path they’d taken this morning. Darkness had fallen, and the lights on the bridge over the Mississippi gleamed like misplaced stars. Cole hunkered down in his seat. He hadn’t felt this alone since he’d lost Leah. Hell. He’d only known Jadan a short while, but they had already connected on so many levels. It scared him to death. Still, his insides clenched whenever he considered he might never see her again. They drove up Beeville to Rampart and cut over to Jackson Avenue, making a wide circle around the parade route. It took them a while, because of heavy traffic with all the tourists in town for the Mardi Gras parties and parades. Cole was relieved when the warehouse district finally loomed before them. They began asking questions at the line businesses closest to the river. Two hours later, it was dark and most people had fled. “We’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Slade said. “Everything has pretty much closed down for the night. What do you say?” Cole didn’t want to quit, but he knew Slade was right. They hustled back to the Durango. They’d already moved it three or four times, trying to find open businesses. It was time to move on. Slade climbed in and started the engine. “Where to?” “The District Station.” “It’s eight o’clock. You need to go home and get some rest.” “Forget it.” Cole blew out a long breath. “I’d rather be at work, where I can at least do some research into the bastards who’ve kidnapped her.” “You can’t afford to let yourself get strung out like you did after Leah was murdered.” “Well, I’m not going home now.” Not without Jadan. Cole aimed his gaze out the window. They were at a warehouse not far from the tall I-10 bridge over the Mississippi. The night was dark, and the river reflected the light smattering of stars not obscured by thick clouds.

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Slade pulled out of the parking lot, giving Cole an excellent view downriver. He spotted a warehouse about three blocks away that was lit up like a stadium. “Whoa.” He put his hand on the dash. “Turn left. Take Tchoupitoulas Street. We have one more stop to make.” “What the hell for?” Slade frowned. “It’s too late to find anyone down there.” “Not at the first warehouse on the other side of the bridge. They’re loading trucks. Let’s go.” “Cole—” Slade stomped the brake. “Keep going, damn it. You know I’m not gonna rest until Jadan is safe.” “Yeah.” He blew out a sharp breath. “I know.” Cole was heartened when Slade followed his directions and drove up to the brightly lit warehouse, which hunkered at the corner of Tchoupitoulas and Race. They climbed out, and Slade stopped a man on a forklift. Cole approached a tall gray-haired man with a clipboard. He wore green coveralls. “You the foreman?” “Who wants to know?” The man narrowed his eyes. He flashed his badge. “Commander Cole McAlister, NOPD.” “The cops.” The man’s eyebrows flew up. “Okay. What do you want with me?” “We’re canvassing the neighborhood, looking for folks who might’ve seen anything unusual. Late night activity, suspicious deliveries—” “Um, not me.” “You sure?” “Yeah, but one of my men mentioned seeing something odd the other night.” He raised his clipboard. “Give me a minute. Let me find him.” Cole grew antsy when he disappeared inside the warehouse. Slade walked up. “So far, I have nothing.” “The foreman said he’s got a guy who might know something.” “Yeah?” The gray-haired man came out of the warehouse trailed by a slim man wearing a camouflage baseball cap. They halted next to Slade. The foreman jerked his thumb at the guy in the cap. “Ron here says he saw some boys down by the river.” He looked at Ron. “When was it? Two days ago?” “No.” Ron frowned. “It was yesterday. Right around dusk.” “Sunday.” Slade pulled out a pad and pen and jotted that down. “And?” “What were they doing?” Cole asked. “Dumping a car in the river.” “Excuse me?” Slade’s pen stilled. He looked up. “Are you sure?” “Yep. I thought it was weird, seeing as it was broad daylight.” Ron took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “It was a little blue car. Guy shoved it into the water right over there.” He pointed to a spot not far from the bridge. Hope rose in Cole’s chest. “What did he do after that?” “Some guy in an ass-ugly car was waitin’ for him in our parking lot. Guess I should’ve called you fellas right away, but I got busy and forgot. My little girl had a piano recital that night, and I was trying to hurry up and get home. You know how it is.”

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Cole looked at Slade. “Call it in, and get a crew out here to dredge up that car.” Slade put up his pen and pad and yanked out his cell phone. He stepped away from the group and brought the phone to his ear. His pulse racing, Cole studied the man before him. “Is there anything else you remember? Like what either of them looked like—height, weight, hair color?” “Both of them had dark skin,” Ron said. He put his cap back on. “Like they was foreigners or something. I thought maybe they’d just come off a ship at the port.” “Son of a bitch,” Cole said softly, suddenly sure they were talking about the terrorists. He took out his wallet and extracted one of his cards. He gave it to Ron. “Give the other detective your name, address, and telephone number. And if you think of anything else that might help us, please call my cell. Any time, day or night.” Ron bobbed his head and tucked the card into the breast pocket of his coveralls. Slade snapped his phone shut and walked back over to them. “CSU’s on the way.” “Those boys are earning their keep today, aren’t they?” Cole quirked his mouth, more out of nervousness than an effort to make light of the situation. He’d never felt more twitchy in his life. Slade laughed sharply. “Damned right.” Ron gave him his personal information, and he jotted down. Cole’s cell phone rang. His palms were clammy, and he nearly dropped the device as he pulled it out. It was the tech squad. His body hummed with renewed energy as he answered it. “What have you got for me, Pete?” “A weak signal,” he said. “Across the river.” “Where? Algiers?” Cole clenched his hand and looked at Slade, who cocked his brow. “No. In Gretna. We don’t have an exact location yet. We’re working on that, but the signal keeps fading in and out. Must have a lousy battery.” “It’s okay. We’ll get with Gretna PD.” “I’ll get back with you as soon as I have more.” Pete promised. A dark premonition settled over Cole as he ended the call. They now had a ballpark location, but nothing concrete. That was damned disconcerting. They also had a car in the river. It would take CSU a long damned time to drag it up, process it, and discover any remaining evidence. Whoa. Cole’s stomach tightened. Big Jimmy was missing. What if he had been inside that car? That would mean the bastards murdered him and stolen his phone. Tomorrow was Mardi Gras. They would know before then if they had a body, but wouldn’t have any other evidence back that quick. He called dispatch and asked for the number for Gretna PD. Once he had it, he rattled it off and Slade jotted it down. Cole punched in the number and turned to Slade. “We need an address. If we don’t get that, we’re screwed. And so is Jadan.” What he didn’t say was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to go on without her. Hell, he’d already lost Leah and Kent. He’d killed people in the war, and he was just plain sick and tired of fighting. One more loss might send him over the edge.

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***** Ali grew nervous as he watched the woman huddled on the floor beside the table. She hadn’t moved a muscle since they’d forced her to don the vest, and for that he was glad. Explosives scared the hell out of him. He pulled out the big man’s cell phone and toyed with it. It was sleek and bullet shaped, much nicer than the one Rashad had given him to use. He contemplated replacing his cheap phone with it after all this was over. Provided he survived, that is. “Whose telephone is that, Ali?” Tarik asked. He sat on the table with one of the armed canisters in his lap. All were now filled with explosives and tiny vials of ricin, and were waiting to have their timers set. Ali swallowed. “It belongs to the large man in there. Big Jimmy.” “This is his cell phone?” Tarik’s eyes widened. He put down the canister and jumped down off the table. “Tell me you are lying.” “No. I cannot.” Ali looked down at the phone in his hand. “I picked it up when we captured him. He had left it on the table at the café. I thought we might need it. That Rashad might—” “You idiot!” Tarik’s eyes blazed. He snatched the phone from Ali’s hand and popped off the battery. His hands shook as he brought it close to his face and examined the inside of the tiny compartment. He looked up, and his lips thinned into a grim line. “You have jeopardized our entire operation. Again.” Ali blanched. “This telephone is equipped with GPS. If the police discover we have Big Jimmy, they will think we have his phone as well. And they will find us.” “I did not know.” “You did not think. And that has put us all in grave danger.” Tarik glared at him. “I must tell Rashad.” “No.” Ali’s insides churned. He grabbed Tarik’s arm. “Please, no. I am begging you— ” “I have no choice.” Tarik shook him off. Ali continued to grovel. Jadan’s hopes rose as she watched their heated exchange. GPS. Thank God for technology. She was scared to move. The bomb vest was uncomfortable, yet she was afraid to straighten it. Knowing it was filled with plastic explosives made her stomach roil. She’d seen enough news footage of the carnage left after suicide bombings to know her body would be reduced to crimson mist if the damned thing exploded. Her eyes grew moist. If that happened, she would never be able to tell Cole she loved him. True, it might be a moot point—their closeness might have merely been the result of fear and close proximity. Still, she could hope. And she would fight to survive. Rashad and Mikhail walked out of the room where the big man was tied. Both were dressed in dark clothing, and Mikhail was laughing. Rashad’s beard made his face look dark and forbidding, despite his wide smile. Jadan tensed. Had they killed the poor man? “Rashad,” Tarik called across the concrete expanse. “Ali has something to tell you.” “No!” Ali said sharply. His cheeks flushed a deep red. “I do not. Please—”

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Rashad’s face grew taut as he looked from Tarik to Ali. “What is it?” “Nothing.” Ali backed away. Tarik snorted. “Liar.” “Tell me, Ali.” Rashad pulled out a knife and began shaving his fingernails. “Or I will let Mikhail shock it out of you.” “No!” His chin quivered. “I did not know.” “You did not know what?” The older man drew his brows together. Ali’s body shivered visibly. “That his phone has GPS.” “Whose phone? Do not make me ask questions. Spit it out.” “This device belongs to Big Jimmy.” Tarik held up the phone. “Ali had it in his pocket.” “You fool!” Rashad grabbed Ali’s shirt and his eyes narrowed to twin pinpoints of flame. “I should have let them kill you. But I spared your life—and for what? So you could betray me?” “I told you—I did not know it had GPS.” “Have you no brains in your head?” Rashad shoved Ali away and spat on the ground in front of him. He turned to Mikhail. “Smash the phone. There is no time for torture. Put a vest on him and keep him with the girl. We will use them both tomorrow.” “Yes, Rashad,” Mikhail said with a bow. He threw the phone on the floor and stomped on it. Jadan gasped. Oh God. Now how would Cole find her? Ali edged back a step. His hands clenched. Tarik grabbed him and threw him against the wall next to Jadan. Afraid they would fall on her and set off the explosives in the vest, she leapt to her feet. Tarik glared at her. “Sit down,” he hissed. “Now!” She walked a few steps away from them, and did as he ordered. Sweat streamed down her spine. These people were insane. If she was going to survive this night, she would have to stay sharp. Not an easy task when she was so tired and hungry. Her gaze went back to the broken phone on the floor. If she could somehow get her hands on it— David handed Ali a bomb vest. Looking at it, he turned pale. His body quaked as he slowly put it on. Dark rims of sweat appeared beneath his arms. He hiccupped. Tarik made him sit on the floor next to Jadan, and he tossed them each a blanket. “You will sleep here tonight, away from everyone. Do not make any sudden movements. Do not get up, and do not touch your vests.” Jadan’s mouth went dry. She stared up at him. “I have to go to the bathroom.” Anger flared in his eyes. Gradually it faded, however, and he motioned for her to stand. “I will allow you to take off your vest long enough to use the facilities, but you will be escorted.” He turned. “Ali, escort our friend to the toilet. If you let her escape, you will die a painful death.” Ali nodded and gingerly came to his feet. Jadan felt better after she relieved herself, but she still couldn’t find a way out of the warehouse. The bathroom had no windows or large vents, and she was kept away from all the doors. Ali stuck with her like glue until they returned to the table. Her eyes again fell on the

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cell phone under the edge of the table. As she walked by, she kicked it toward the mattress Tarik had dragged from somewhere while they were gone. It reeked of mothballs. He pointed at it. “You both will sleep here. Tomorrow is a big day.” A big day. As in Mardi Gras. The date of their attack. Jadan’s blood turned to ice. Would Cole find her in time, or would she be splattered all over the parade route? Tears welled in her eyes as she shrugged back into the hated vest and lay down, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. They never turned off all the lights, but at least they did turn off the ones over her head. As soon as they blinked out, she grabbed for the broken telephone and began to play with it, hoping that somehow she could make it work again. ***** Cole and Slade met up with Baldwyn, members of the Intelligence/Homeland Security Division and a handful of Gretna uniformed cops on the other side of the river. Baldwyn divided the city into sections using a grid and assigned officers to start a city wide canvass. “They could be anywhere in Gretna. Check out anything unusual. Any extra activity, lights on when they’re usually off, anyone acting suspicious. Warehouses, private homes, businesses—” The officers eyed him sagely. “Be on the lookout for a dirty tan or brown Saab,” Cole added. “We don’t have a plate number.” The men nodded. After they had teamed up and fanned out to their respective vehicles, Cole walked over to Slade. His muscles burned from fatigue, but he found it easy to ignore the pain because the ache in his heart was so much worse. “Let’s go. We’ll take the strip along the river.” Slade started off in the lead. Cole kept up by running on pure adrenaline. “Commander!” Baldwyn’s loud bellow reverberated off the water. Cole whipped around to see the portly agent hustling after them. They halted. Winded, the agent hurried up and stood there a minute trying to catch his breath. “Bad news.” Slade edged closer to Cole. “What is it?” Cole’s inside’s clenched. “Tech lost the signal. The phone is dead.” Slade cursed. An icy chill slid over Cole. “We have to keep looking.” “We will, once we have more—” “No.” Cole made a fist. “We keep looking now. The last signal we had came from here.” “Cole—” Slade scrubbed a hand down his face. “Neither of us has had any sleep. Maybe we should catch a few Z’s in the Durango before going door to door. Pete will call if he picks up the signal again.” “I can’t do that.” Cole fought off the tightness in his shoulders. Not now. Time was of the essence. And he hated waiting. Not knowing where Jadan was or if she was all right,

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hated knowing it was his fault the terrorists had kidnapped her. He never should have left her alone in the first place. But most of all, he hated this helpless feeling which mirrored how he’d felt when Leah died. He’d been helpless to keep her alive, but he still had a chance to save Jadan. Slade clapped his shoulder. “I understand your desperation. I’ve been there, remember? But neither of us will be worth a damn to Jadan or anyone else if we don’t get some rest.” “He’s right.” Baldwyn cleared his throat. “Gretna’s already offered me a place to use as a command post. Why don’t you guys take it for now, before the shit hits the fan?” Cole clenched his jaw. Hell. He was dead on his feet. But he felt that if he slept he’d be letting Jadan down just like he had Leah. Slade’s intense stare was like a laser on his heart. “Okay. I’ll rest. But both of you have to promise to call me the second you hear anything. “I promise,” Slade said, looking relieved. Baldwyn nodded. He set them up in a converted school bus Gretna PD used for riot control. It was pretty bare bones, but it was better than nothing. Cole stretched out on a couch in the front, and Slade took one in the back. And despite his vow to stay awake all night, Cole soon found his eyes drifting shut. He dreamed of Jadan. In another place, another time. The way it had been with Leah, before the men seeking revenge against her brother had murdered her in cold blood. Jadan’s slim beauty transfixed him. Her hair kissed her shoulders as she leaned close, sending a wave of her vanilla scent over him. Her changeable eyes told him just how much she cared. He reached out to touch her— The persistent bleat of his cell phone started him. He jerked into a sitting position and was startled to see mottled sunlight streaming through the bus’s dirty windows. Reality came rushing back amid a flood of despair. He was in a makeshift command post in Gretna, Louisiana with Slade. Jadan was missing. A shudder racked his sweat-soaked body. He rubbed his stinging eyes and groggily eyed the clock on the wall. It read seven a.m. He’d slept seven and a half hours. Damn it. It was Mardi Gras Day. The knot in Cole’s stomach tightened. He snatched up the still ringing cell phone. “McAlister.” “Morning, Commander.” It was Kevin Jacobs. Cole went on red alert. The detective wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. “What is it?” “CSU found fingerprints in the car they pulled out of the river,” Jacobs said. “Three sets. I thought you’d want to know.” “You thought right.” Cole welcomed the cold sting of relief. No body. “Any hits from AFIS?” “Two. Tarik Mashoud, an illegal alien who was arrested by Biloxi PD last year and escaped during the storm, and a man named Jimmy Pane, from New Orleans. Bastard has a rap sheet as long as my arm.”

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“Big Jimmy,” Cole said, awe filling him. This gave them absolute confirmation the man had been kidnapped and not murdered, at least not yet. “Well, what do you know? Thanks, Jacobs.” Slade walked in from the back and tucked in his shirt. “News about Jadan?” “No.” Cole snapped the phone shut. “CSU found prints in the car.” Slade cocked his brow “Anybody we know?” “Tarik Mashoud. And Big Jimmy.” “Son of a bitch.” Slade’s face darkened. “They do have him.” “And at that point, anyway, he was probably still alive. And they have his cell phone. Unless they’ve dumped it—and maybe him, too—since then.” “That’s a distinct possibility.” “One I’d rather not think about.” Cole came to his feet. “I prefer to be optimistic.” “Ready to go?” “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. He needed a shave and a change of clothes, but there was no time. He massaged his neck, which was sore from sleeping on the uncomfortable couch. “But instead of helping with the canvas, let’s go see Pete. We need to find that telephone. We find it, we find Jadan.” “We hope we do,” Slade said. “Look, I’ve been thinking. What about me taking over the investigation? You’re too close to this case.” Cole dropped his hand. “You don’t think I can do my job?” “You know that’s not it.” Slade tightened his jaw. “It’s just that—like Marisa’s case was for me and Leah’s was for you, this one’s too personal for you to be objective. You need distance.” “Bullshit.” “Cole—” A muscle jumped in Slade’s jaw. “You’re my superior. But you know I won’t hesitate to go over your head to keep you from doing something stupid.” “Contrary to what you might think, I’m not that close to the edge.” “Yes, you are. I’ve seen it before.” Slade stared at him intently. “Remember?” “You have my word that I won’t do anything to put you or me or anyone else in danger. I don’t work that way.” Cole shrugged into his coat. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time talking about this.” Cole banged out the door and charged down the steps. Icy air chilled the sweat on his skin. His cell phone rang. He yanked it out. “McAlister.” “Commander, this is Baldwyn.” “Morning, sir.” Cole’s stomach clenched. “You have news?” “No. Sorry.” The Homeland Security agent cleared his throat. “I’m uptown with the mayor, trying to talk him into upping the threat level and canceling the remaining parades. No dice.” “I’m not surprised. Tonight are the three biggest—Zulu, Rex, and Elks Orleans.” “My men are doing a sweep along the routes, but we haven’t found anything so far.” Baldwyn coughed. “What about your tech people? Learn anything new about that cell phone?” “Not yet. But I have other news.” Cole related what Jacobs had told him about the fingerprints in the car. “Looks like they have Big Jimmy. Slade and I are heading out uptown

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right now to light a fire under Pete. Unless the terrorists have ditched that cell phone, it’s our best chance of finding Jadan.” “Tell you what.” The agent hesitated. “I’m on St. Charles Street. You’re talking about police headquarters, right? Tech and Support?” “Yeah. On South Broad.” “I’ll pick up Logan and meet you there. The FBI has resources you and I can both use. If your tech people are still stumbling around with that GPS issue, maybe he can help. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.” Baldwyn agreed and ended the call. “He and Dave Logan are going to meet us,” Cole told Slade as they got into the Durango. Slade nodded. “Good. I’ve known Logan for years. He plays a helluva game of racquetball.” “Logan?” Cole lifted his eyebrows. “He’s a big man.” “You’d be surprised how well he can move. He’s also an expert marksman.” “That’s good to know.” Still tired, Cole dropped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.” Lulled by the noise and motion of the SUV, he dozed. He was only able to get in a short cat nap, but it was enough to energize him. Baldwyn and Logan met them in front of the Technical and Support Bureau just as Pete Longino powered out the door holding his cell phone. He looked up, saw Cole and Slade, and halted. “Commander, Detective. I was about to call you. We just got the signal back. It’s weak, but we can follow it.” ***** By mid-morning, Tarik and David finished loading the car with canisters and explosives. Jadan had watched the process with trepidation, fearing one of them would drop something and blow up the warehouse. It didn’t happen. She put her hand in her pocket and toyed with the broken phone. She didn’t know if it was working or not, but she hoped it was. Tarik closed the trunk, then walked over and dragged her to her feet. The phone fell to the floor with a clatter. “What is this?” Tarik snarled. He snatched it up. His eyes met hers. “You were trying to make it work? To call someone?” “No. Of course not,” she stammered. “I—” “Liar!” His hand flashed up and he slapped her, so hard her ears rang. She stumbled backwards, hit the edge of the mattress, and fell. Her breath flew out. The vest. She closed her eyes and prepared to die. But instead, she only bounced. Her heart skipped a beat. “Bastard!” Ali shouted beside her. David yanked him to his feet. “Shut up, you traitor. You want them to catch us. Don’t you?” “No. But you don’t have to hit her.”

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“She is a woman.” Tarik spit on her. Jadan jerked as the nasty liquid landed on her arm. She wiped it on the mattress. “Get up,” he ordered. “No more stalling.” He turned and threw the phone across the warehouse. Tears filled Jadan’s eyes. She trembled and looked down at her vest. Showdown time. They were about to take them into the city, at least she thought so. Exploding into a shower of body parts was not the way she wanted to go. She swallowed, hard. “Where are we going?” “You will find out soon enough,” Tarik snapped. “Be quiet, or I will gag you.” She didn’t want that, so she closed her mouth. Fear permeated every pore of her body. David took her arm and led her to the car. She didn’t want to get in, but she knew that if she balked she was a dead woman. So she went along, as did Ali. She could smell the terror riding his skin. He was one of them but somehow he had crossed them, and that made him expendable. The fact that they would turn on one of their own told her they were even more dangerous than she’d first thought. Tarik and David climbed into the front seat and Tarik started the engine. The warehouse door rose behind them and he backed the Saab out into the gloomy day. The clouds seemed lower than they had yesterday, and the air was just as icy, even in the car. Jadan rubbed her arms. “You are cold?” Ali asked quietly. Surprised he had spoken, she looked at him. He hadn’t said a word all night long. “Yes.” “Me, too.” “Be quiet!” David barked. Jadan snapped her mouth shut. Damn them. Check your surroundings, she told herself. Her nerves thrummed as she looked out the window. They were heading for the interstate. She held her breath as Tarik guided the car up the entrance ramp to I-10, which crossed the Mississippi. She’d known they were in Gretna, but didn’t know for sure where they would go next. Now she did. New Orleans. It was Mardi Gras, and the biggest parades began in only a few hours. Her heart rose into her throat. She and Ali were going to be used to kill people. She bit her lip. She couldn’t let that happen. Somehow, she had to detonate her vest before they arrived. That would take out the terrorists and save hundreds of innocent people. She looked down at the thick black vest. Its pockets bulged with plastic explosives. She held her breath and began to pound on them as hard as she could. “What the hell are you doing?” Ali asked. David turned and looked at her. And laughed. “She thinks it will explode.” Ali cursed. Tarik met her fevered glare in the rearview mirror, and he laughed too. Jadan’s face burned. Why hadn’t the explosives gone off? Still cursing, Ali leaned close. “Your vest is stuffed with C-4. It will not go off without an electric charge.” “What?” Her hands stilled. She had spent the entire night believing she could go up at any second, and for nothing. “It won’t blow up?”

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“Not without a blasting cap,” David added. His grin stretched his face. “We will outfit you with that and a timer once we reach our destination.” Tears welled in Jadan’s eyes. Damn it. She’d never felt so helpless. She lowered her hands. I’m so sorry, Cole. ***** Cole chafed against the long wait. He, Slade, Baldwyn, and Dave Logan had been at Tech and Support for over three hours and so far, they had nothing. Zilch. No address, nothing from the FBI, and no signal from Big Jimmy’s cell phone. It was almost noon, and he was about to crawl out of his skin. He walked over to Slade. “I’ve gotta get out of here.” “Baldwyn has men going over the parade routes.” “I could help with the canvas.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I hate this not knowing.” “I know.” Slade met his pained gaze. “But right now, there’s nothing you can do but wait.” “Commander,” Pete called from the back of the room. “We’ve got the signal back, loud and clear. The FBI has pinpointed a location.” Cole grabbed his coat and hurried to Pete’s cubicle. Slade followed him. Pete reeled off an address on the outskirts of Gretna. “How did we miss it?” Slade asked in disbelief. “That area’s been checked twice.” “I don’t know.” Baldwyn cursed. “I’ll send a team.” “Tell them we’ll meet ‘em there.” Cole shrugged into his coat. “Let’s go.” He and Slade left Tech and Support at a dead run and jumped into the Durango. Cole ordered Slade to head north, to miss the traffic clogging uptown. Several streets were closed because of the upcoming parades, and he didn’t want to get stuck. Tourists filled every street corner. Before long, they were on I-10 crossing the Mississippi. Low clouds hung overhead, and the water flowed along dully beneath them. The day was wintry and cold for Louisiana. Cole pulled out the Glock and checked its magazine. “I have a good feeling about this.” “I hope our information is accurate. It’d be nice to end this thing right now.” “It sure would.” Cole’s mind worked overtime as he snapped the magazine back into the pistol. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jadan, wondering if she was okay. Had they hurt her? Anger rose within him at the idea. If they had, they would pay. In spades. He shoved the Glock back into its holster and glared out the window. Traffic was light in Gretna compared to uptown, and they were soon on the outskirts of the city. Here, warehouses intermingled with businesses and a few single family homes. Cole’s cell phone rang. He jerked it out, and his heart pounded. “McAlister.” “Baldwyn here.” “Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “What’ve you got?” “My men just hit the building.”

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“Already?” Cole went still. “We’re almost there. We were trying to—” “It’s empty.” “Excuse me?” Alarm shot through Cole. “They’ve cleared out. My lead man found the cell phone on the floor. Busted. They also found a case of C-4, a blasting cap, and a black vest filled with explosives.” “Holy shit.” A dull ache started in the center of Cole’s chest. Suicide bombers. He looked at Slade, who frowned. “They’re planning a large scale attack.” “We have men all over the parade route. I only hope we can move fast enough to thwart it.” “I’ll notify the bomb squad.” “I already have. ATF is on the scene, too.” Baldwyn hesitated. “But there’s only so much they can do if those people mingle with the crowd.” The ache in Cole’s chest spread to his skull. “Any sign of Jadan?” “No. Sorry.” “Okay. Thanks.” Cole rubbed his temples. He hadn’t really expected them to find anything, but he’d hoped they would. “Baldwyn—” “Oh my God!” The Homeland Security agent’s startled exclamation made him forget what he was about to say. He heard a lot of mumbling, and then Baldwyn asked, “…dead?” “Who’s dead?” Cole asked. Desperation built inside his heart. “Baldwyn, talk to me.” “A man…a big…man. Might be Slade’s informant.” Baldwyn stumbled over his words. “Sweet Jesus. He’s been tortured. I see an electric drill. There’s blood all over.” Cole’s stomach roiled. A drill? Blood? His fear for Jadan doubled. “For God’s sake, Baldwyn—” “He’s dead.” “There it is,” Slade said, nodding to indicate the large metal warehouse looming up ahead on the right. Police cruisers, CSU vans, and Baldwyn’s black sedan had it surrounded. “We’re here,” Cole barked into the phone. “We’ll be right in.” He snapped it shut and looked at Slade. “Big Jimmy’s dead. They tortured him.” “It’s my fault,” Slade said, his words wooden. He pulled off the road and slammed the gearshift into park. “I should’ve insisted we meet in a private location. Not at Café du Monde. The place was crawling with people.” “You know Big Jimmy. He loved his doughnuts.” “Yeah.” Slade climbed out. “Fucking beignets.” Cole joined him and together they made their way into the warehouse. Baldwyn’s strike team swarmed the place, which smelled like chemicals and mildew, with a mild metallic overtone. Blood. The swirling in his stomach increased. He spotted a couple of tables and a stained mattress along one wall, a stack of pallets, and several small black metal canisters. Several doors led off from the main part of the warehouse. He guessed they were offices of some kind. Baldwyn came out of a room at the end of the building. His face was pale and his hair stood on end, like he’d raked his hands through it. He halted. “Hope you haven’t eaten.” “No,” Cole said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t thought about food. “No time.” “Good. You’d lose it.”

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Slade cursed and left them standing there. Cole noticed the rigid set of his shoulders as he marched across the concrete expanse toward the open door. He stopped in the doorway and cursed. Cole closed his eyes. Baldwyn clapped him on the shoulder. “If they were gonna hurt her like that, they would’ve already done it. We have no body or blood except for Big Jimmy’s. Your lady’s okay. You gotta believe that.” “Maybe she is,” Cole rasped. “But for how long?” ***** Tarik halted the car in an alley a long way from uptown New Orleans, got out and took something out of the trunk. Jadan fidgeted. She longed to ask Ali what his friend might be doing, but she was afraid to speak. Tarik jerked Jadan’s door open. He held another black vest in one hand and a snubnosed pistol in the other. “Get out.” She obeyed. “Take off your vest and put it in the car.” He jerked the gun at her. “Move.” She met his hard gaze. “Why should I?” “Because I said so. Do it now!” he shouted. “Or I will kill you.” The tension in his body unnerved her. She had no choice. Her hands shook as she unfastened the garment’s plastic clips. He held up the other vest. “Put this on. Hurry.” “I don’t understand.” She took it and examined it. Tiny wires snaked out of every pocket. She jerked her eyes to his. “No.” “You tried to blow yourself up in the car.” His dark eyes gleamed with evil lights. “What difference does thirty minutes make?” He had a point. Sweat broke out along her spine as she shrugged into the heavy garment. He sneered at her. “You can beat it with a hammer, and it will not explode. Not until I detonate it. So do not think you can slaughter us.” “But you can murder innocent people,” she snapped. Anger niggled at her self control. “How can you be so cruel?’ “Cruelty is a gift in my profession.” He pulled a small black device from his pocket and toyed with it. “I hold your fate in my hands. Try to escape from me, and you will die.” A thick wave of terror replaced Jadan’s anger. Tears filled her eyes. Cole would never find her in time, if he was still looking. They’d only known each other for a few days. Maybe he had given up. She could understand it. He had never bared his soul to her. Something or someone had broken his heart, and it still lay shattered in his chest. She longed for the chance to make it whole—if he would only let her. If she survived. David ordered Ali out of the car, and Tarik made him change his vest too. He stared at Jadan with flat, dead eyes. Her insides quivered. She’d never been so scared.

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“Start walking, Ali.” David produced a pistol just like Tarik’s and shoved it in Ali’s side. He had gone three steps when another car drove up. It pulled to a stop and Rashad, Mikhail, and three other men got out. Two of them were white, and the other was African-American. All were young, had tattoos, and looked like they lived on the street. They eyed Tarik and David warily. “What’s goin’ on?” one of them asked. His eyes darted over Jadan and Ali. His friend hissed, “Shut up, man. You gonna get us shot.” Tarik shot them both a glare and they clammed up. “Do you have the canisters?” Rashad asked him. He nodded. “Good.” He opened the trunk of his car and ordered the young men to remove two cases of soft drinks. None of them said a word. Jadan frowned. What in the world were they doing? “Go.” He shoved her. “Do not watch them.” She started down the alley. Afraid to cross Tarik, she acted as if she was adjusting her vest and peeked over her shoulder to see one of the men take the top off a can, which had been cut, and slip a sleek black cylinder inside it. Wires stuck out the top until he put on the lid. Her stomach plummeted. Tarik grabbed her arm. “I said for you to keep walking. What they are doing is not your business.” “Those are bombs.” “You are a smart woman.” His lips curled back in a feral smile. He shoved the pistol under her chin, and bent her head back. The weapon’s cold steel dug into her skin. He leaned close and whispered, “Smart women die young.” She gasped from the pain. A lone tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. He gripped her elbow and slowly lowered the pistol. She could smell his sweat. He pushed her forward. “Go to the end of the alley and get into the white car waiting there. Do not scream or make a false move, or I will detonate the vest.” Fear washed over her, and she did as he ordered, hoping someone would be around and she could signal for help—if she could do it without him seeing her. Yet the street was empty. Everyone must have been headed for the parade. She fought back a return of her tears and approached the non-descript late model Toyota parked at the curb about twenty feet down. Just as she reached it, the passenger door swung open and a stern faced man with dark chocolate skin climbed out. He eased his jacket back just enough for Jadan to spot the pistol strapped to his side. Great. She looked up, and her eyes landed on a tiny scorpion tattooed on his neck. She shivered. He opened the back door of the car and urged her inside. The car smelled like cigarettes and old socks. Jadan wrinkled her nose as she slid across the seat. “Who are you?” she asked He didn’t answer her. Instead, he closed her door, climbed back into the front, and motioned to the driver, an emaciated light skinned man with kinky red hair, to start the car. They turned onto a busier street and slowly weaved their way through town, following the speed limit. Jadan presumed the driver didn’t wish to draw attention to their car.

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Scorpion Man tossed a black Nylon jacket over the seat and bobbed his head at Jadan. “Put it on and zip it up.” “Why?” The air was cool, but her frazzled nerves charged her with electricity. “I don’t—” “Don’t ask questions, bitch,” he snapped. “Just do it.” Her hands trembling, Jadan scooped the jacket off the seat and gingerly shrugged into it. Tarik had told her the explosives wouldn’t detonate without his help, but she didn’t know if that was true. Perspiration rolled down her back as she zipped the coat and settled back in her seat Traffic grew heavier with each block they traveled. As they neared St. Charles Street, the crowds along the sidewalks thickened and the traffic abruptly came to an halt. “It’s a fucking roadblock,” Scorpion Man said. He turned and fixed Jadan with a challenging stare. “Keep your mouth shut and your hands in your lap, you hear? Draw attention to us, and I’ll call Tarik. We’ll all die.’ Jadan tensed and eyed the driver, who was visibly sweating. “I don’t like this, man,” he whined. They drew closer to the road block. “Those are federal agents.” “Fuck. ATF.” Scorpion Man sat up in his seat. “See any dogs?” “No.” “Good. Keep going. And keep your damned mouth shut.” Jadan held her breath as they edged closer. Dogs. As in bomb sniffing canines. How she wished those agents had a kennel full. She wouldn’t mind being arrested if she could get away from these two men. Her gaze took in their bullet proof vests, black helmets, and assault rifles. They pulled up beside the agents and Red Hair rolled down the window. “What’s this all about, officers?” His voice carried a ring of fear. “We just wanna see the parade.” “It’s just a routine roadblock,” the agent said, peering into the car. His friend on the other side looked into the back seat. Jadan sent him a pleading look with her eyes and tried to motion to him, but she was afraid to move her hands too much. The front man slapped the roof of the car. “Go.” “Now?” Red Hair asked. He grinned. “All right.” “Watch the pedestrians,” the agent warned. Red Hair touched the gas and the Toyota trundled forward. “We can’t go much farther with all this traffic,” Scorpion Man said. He turned back to Jadan and gave her a lethal smile. “Good job keeping your mouth shut, bitch. We’ll be getting out of the car soon…we don’t want no trouble.” Jadan swallowed. Why hadn’t those agents searched the car? If they had, they would’ve discovered not only her vest, but also his gun. Red Hair aimed the car down a narrow side street and halted next to the curb. Scorpion Man popped his door and climbed out. Cold, humid air funneled into the car.

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Jadan shook off a chill and peered down an alley to her left. Her gaze landed on a cluster of men standing on the sidewalk. One of them turned and seemed to look right at her. It was Cole. She gasped. He turned away and said something to Slade, who stood next to Agent Baldwyn and two heavily armed FBI agents in black flak jackets. He hadn’t seen her after all. A shard of longing lodged in her heart. “Cole,” she whispered. His name was a prayer on her lips. Here I am, she wanted to shout. Her hands squeezed into fists. “Shut your mouth, bitch.” Red Hair jerked around. His eyes traced where she had been looking. “Shit. You know them?” Not wanting to give Cole away, she looked down at her clenched hands. Red Hair banged on the roof of the car, and Scorpion Man turned. Red Hair leaned across the seat. “She sees somebody. Watch her, damn it.” Moisture distorted Jadan’s vision. She looked down the alley again, and Cole was gone. Her heart rose into her throat. Don’t leave me. Scorpion Man opened her door and glared at her. “Get out, and keep quiet.” “Where are we?” she asked, searching desperately for a street sign. They’d made so many turns she’d become disoriented. He grasped her elbow. “Doesn’t matter. You won’t care much longer.” Terror gripped her as Red Hair got out of the car and rounded the hood. His hands shook, and he stuffed them in the pockets of his ratty jeans. “We just dump her, right? Then we run.” “Shut up,” Scorpion Man snapped. His dark gaze flicked to Jadan. She considered making a run for it and trying to find Cole, but remembered the vest. All it would take would be one phone call from Scorpion Man to Tarik, and she would be splattered all over St. Mary Street. “How long before the parade makes it down this far?” Red Hair asked. “We’re about halfway.” Scorpion Man dragged Jadan toward the alley. “I don’t know. They’re starting early, because of the crime sweep. Shouldn’t be too long. First one starts in fifteen minutes.” “At three?” Red Hair consulted his watch. “Damn. We’ll be home in time to watch it on the news.” “That’s my plan,” Scorpion Man said with a wicked grin. “We’ll watch it on TV, pick up our cash, and high-tail it out of town. I’ll be in LA by this time tomorrow.” Jadan shuddered. The alley was dank and quiet, compared to the noisy street. Droves of tourists passed over the sidewalk where Cole and Slade had stood, and she heard Dixieland jazz coming from somewhere. Its festive sound usually energized her. But today, knowing she was about to die and take no telling how many innocent people with her, it only made her sad. Gravel crunched under her feet. Scorpion Man’s grip tightened on her elbow as they neared the end of the alley. Canal Street was lined with revelers, many dressed in traditional yellow, green, and purple. Beads draped people’s necks and arms, and hung from two bedraggled trees struggling to survive in two square feet of soil surrounded by concrete.

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They reached the sidewalk, and Jadan frantically searched the crowd for Cole. She didn’t see him. But she did see Ali, with Tarik and David leaning against the window of a voodoo shop on the other side of the street. Ali’s face was pale and his eyes were hollow, like he had accepted the fact that he was about to die. Jadan bowed up inside. He might have accepted it, but she had not. She wanted to live and find Cole. If only she could see him in this growing tide of humanity. Her eyes raked over the crowd and abruptly she spotted one of the young men who had been helping Tarik stuff black canisters into soda cans. He was walking away from them, scurrying through the crowd like he had a bus to catch. He clutched one of the cans. At the next parking meter, he halted and set it on the ground. He looked around furtively, and then pulled another one from his pocket and pretended to drink from it. Her mouth fell open. He was leaving bombs all along the parade route. She looked at Scorpion Man. He wasn’t watching her closely, but he still held on to her arm. If she broke away, he would call Tarik. How could she warn anyone? A shout rang out down the street. Jadan jerked around and saw a scuffle. Cole and an ATF agent shoved one of the boys with the soda cans against the wall. He dropped the can. Scorpion Man cursed and tightened his hold on her arm. Pain radiated through her tricep. “That hurts.” She jerked free. “Let go of me.” He lunged for her. Pretending to trip, she let him catch her. He wrapped his arms around her body, and she fished her hand into his pocket. Her fingers closed around his cell phone. She pulled it out and went limp in his arms. ***** Out of the corner of his eye, Cole watched a young man set a soft drink can on the concrete next to a parking meter. He thought nothing of it, until the guy pulled another one from his pocket, looked around, and pretended to drink from it. Then he started off down the block, dodging tourists and revelers swigging from white cups. Cole grabbed Slade and the two FBI agents assigned to their sector. “Follow me.” “What is it?” Slade asked. He sidestepped a large man dancing on the sidewalk, and snapped out an expletive. “In an hour, stupid bastard will be in the street.” Normally, Cole would have laughed. But not today. He expertly wound his way through the crowd, making sure he kept up with the man with the soft drink in his hand. Another block down, the guy stopped and set the can beside a parking meter. Holy shit. Cole pulled out his phone, and then huddled with Slade and the two agents. “We have a situation.” He went on to describe what was happening, and they zeroed in on the man just in time to see him pull another soft drink can from his left jacket pocket and pretend to drink. “We gotta get those cans off the street,” Slade said. Worry lined his brow. “Or we’re gonna have a massacre on our hands.” “Damned right. I’ll call Baldwyn,” Cole said. He lifted his phone to his ear. “We need ATF and the bomb squad at St. Charles and Jackson. Pronto.”

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“We’ve got him.” The taller agent hefted his M-5 and motioned to his counterpart. “Let’s go, Calvin. I’ve got his right.” They waded into the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea once the revelers glimpsed their assault rifles. Cole pulled the Glock and followed. He knew he and Slade should clear the street, but there wasn’t time. He sent up a prayer that the agents could take down the guy without incident. At the last second, he spotted them and threw down the soda can. It bounded off the brick wall of a tiny coffee shop and rolled out into the street. Cole stopped it with his foot and ordered the crowd to get back. The perpetrator ran headlong into an elderly woman and sent her sprawling. He fell, but scrambled to his feet and shoved his way through the thick crowd. A large man blocked his path, and Calvin grabbed him. He and the other agent slammed him into the wall. Cole let out the breath he’d been holding. They’d gotten the asshole without firing a shot. He got back on the phone with Baldwyn to confirm that ATF and the bomb squad were on their way. They needed more manpower, and fast. Slade walked past him and took the can man into custody. Relieved, Cole pocketed the phone and pushed people back from where the can lay in the street. “Cole!” The shout from down the block made him raise his head. It sounded like Jadan. He whipped around. “Cole, where are you?” The voice grew frantic. “Help!” A loud shriek carried over the noise of the crowd and the wail of jazz. He bolted toward it, trying not to knock people down as he elbowed through the throngs of revelers. A strand of purple beads looped around his neck. He yanked them off and kept going. “Jadan?” he shouted. He strained to see over the mass of people. His heart thumped, but he saw no one he recognized. Had he only imagined hearing her voice? “Cole!” He yanked out the Glock and focused on an alley about a half block down. Had the shout come from there? His breath sawed out as he pushed people aside and vaulted onto the curb. And all of a sudden, there she was. Jadan. Wearing a thick black vest, she stood next to a lamp post. Her hands were fastened to it with a locked bicycle chain. The swarthy skinned man with the mole on his cheek loomed behind her. It took a moment for Cole to realize that he was secured with the same chain as Jadan. His dark eyes were flat and his lips curled into a sneer. “Even he can’t save you now,” he growled at Jadan. Her watery gaze landed on Cole and though she knew she still might die, she smiled. “I knew you’d come.” “My God.” His startled eyes dropped to the thick vest, with its bulging pockets and maze of tiny wires. It was a suicide vest. The man with the mole wore one, too. “You’re both wearing explosives.” “Yes.” Tears glistened on her cheeks. “Tarik has the detonator. Go, please. I don’t want to take you with me.”

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“Forget it. I’m not leaving you here,” Cole said. He’d already abandoned her once, and she’d been kidnapped. He focused on the man behind her. “Are you Tarik?” “No. I am Ali.” He flattened his lips. “You cannot stop this. We are doomed.” “Not if I have anything to say about it.” Cole pulled out his phone. He couldn’t let another woman die on his watch. Especially not Jadan. “Where’s Tarik?” “With men putting bombs into drink cans.” Jadan wet her lips. “I don’t know where.” “We caught a man putting those out along the street.” “Good,” Jadan said. “They had so many. All Tarik has to do is push a button—” “I’m not gonna let you die,” Cole said. He edged closer and stroked his knuckles down her cheek. “It’ll be okay.” “Please go,” she begged. “I don’t want to lose you.” “No.” He shook his head. “I won’t leave you again.” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Cole?” Slade’s shout startled him. He swung around to see his friend with his cell phone up to his ear. His face was a dark thundercloud, and he was barking orders to someone. He snapped the phone shut and began shooing the crowd away from the scene. Cole smiled at Jadan. “I love you. Stay strong.” “Oh, Cole,” she said softly. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I will. I love you, too.” The man with the mole muttered something in a foreign tongue. He looked at Jadan with contempt. “Stupid American whore. I do not deserve to die with you.” He spat on her. She jerked, and Cole swung at him. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw, and his head snapped back. He spewed a string of foreign invectives. His eyes shot daggers of hate. “Stop it!” Jadan pleaded. “Please.” “Damn it, Cole,” Slade rushed up and grabbed his arm. “Get away from her. There’s no sense in you dying, too. The bomb squad’s right down the street.” Breathing hard, Cole continued to glare at the guy, who was still cursing. Slade’s harsh gaze tracked past Cole, and he dropped his hand to the butt of his pistol. “Whoa, mister. That’s far enough. Put it down.” Cole spun to see a man holding an automatic weapon standing just outside the alley. The weapon was trained on Jadan. “I have orders to shoot to kill.” Slade pulled his weapon. “Police! Freeze!” “Put down the gun,” Cole said, as terror streaked through him. He tried to sound calm so he wouldn’t upset Jadan. “Let’s talk.” “There is nothing to talk about. I cannot find Tarik.” The man’s dark face gleamed with sweat. “This woman and Ali must die.” He ripped off a shot at Jadan’s feet. Screams echoed down the street as people fled, knocking each other down in their attempt to escape. Cole dove to the ground behind Slade and pulled his weapon as bits of concrete and grit splattered over him. Pictures of Leah scrolled through his head. He saw her smiling, then falling, tumbling to the ground, her blood leaking out to form a puddle around her head. He couldn’t save her. His heart swelled as Jadan screamed. She was still alive. He rolled over and came up firing, his gunshots melding with Slade’s. The man’s weapon rose toward the sky and he continued shooting as he crumpled to the ground.

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Silence. The incongruity of it after what had just happened startled Cole. His ears rang and smoke filled he air. The bomb squad guys ran up. “Are you okay, detectives?” One of them lifted his hood’s protective helmet. Cole nodded numbly. Jadan was still chained to the post. He met her wide amber eyes, and his heart tumbled. She was alive. But she still had on the suicide vest. His heart rose into his throat. “Get that damned vest off her. Be careful.” They started toward her. He turned, and in his peripheral vision he saw another man enter the street. He carried a small black device, and his hawk-like eyes zeroed in on Cole. He held his gaze. And smiled. Cole raised the Glock and fired. The shot ripped into the guy’s wrist, sending the device flying into the street. The man screamed in pain. His wrist flopping, he lunged after it. Slade was faster. He snatched it up and pumped two more rounds into the guy, dropping him at the curb. He slumped in the gutter like a drunk. All at once, they were surrounded by Homeland Security, FBI, and ATF agents. The bomb squad moved everyone back and went to work on Jadan and Ali. Despite the lessening threat, Cole couldn’t breathe. Visions of Leah lying dead on the warm asphalt kept creeping into his head. He’d lived with that image for so long. He’d let her die because he hadn’t been vigilant enough. This time, however, he’d gotten here in time. He’d saved Jadan’s life—if the bomb squad was able to free her. Sweat streamed down his spine despite the icy wind swirling between the buildings. The street had been cleared of revelers, yet the plaintive whine of jazz still drifted down the street. The sharp odor of cordite stung his nose. He rushed over to her. “You should stay back, Commander,” the shorter bomb squad man said. Cole shook his head. “I’m not leaving her.” “Cole—” Jadan’s glistening eyes locked on his face. “Please.” “No.” He edged around her and held her tight while the bomb squad worked. “I want to be the last person you see if this damned thing—” He broke off and looked down at the vest. If she was gonna die, he was going with her. He wasn’t gonna stand aside and watch another woman die on his watch. Not Jadan. A tear dripped down her cheek. She pressed her weight against him. He set his jaw and prayed the technician would cut the right wires. Jadan reveled in the comforting heat of Cole’s body. The bomb squad had moved everyone else back into the alley. The moisture on her cheeks gradually dried, leaving tight streaks that pulled at her skin whenever she swallowed. She held her breath as the men worked diligently to free her. Her shirt was plastered to her back. On the side opposite Cole, she could feel Ali. Fear radiated from his body, and he was breathing heavily. She peered down at her vest. One of the men finally eased a wire free with his deft fingers, and then he clipped it. She gasped. “Oh my. It was that easy?” “This thing is crudely made.” He looked up at her. “A child could get it off without detonating it. Just relax.”

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“You need a vacation after this,” Cole said in her ear. He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Where would you like to go?” “I can’t take a vacation. I have a coffee shop to run.” “You can, and you will. With me. You can get Stacy to run the shop. What about the Caribbean? Ever been on a cruise?” “No.” She giggled. This was absolutely surreal. She might die at any moment, and Cole was talking about frolicking with her on one of the Fun Ships. He could be so sweet. Still, she had to wonder if their relationship was real. They’d been thrown together because of the many attempts on her life, and their passion had been fed by their close proximity and the encroaching danger. Would they be able to survive together in the real world? “I love you,” Cole said, his breath moist on her ear. “In case you’re wondering. And I’m gonna take you away somewhere and spend some time getting to know all about you. Plan on it.” Ali growled something foul in his native tongue. She prayed he would shut his mouth and cooperate. She wanted to be free, so she could hug Cole properly. The bomb squad man tugged out another wire and cut it. He quirked his mouth. “This damned thing may be crude, but if they’d hit the button, you would’ve been blown to bits.” “Crimson mist.” “Huh?” He blinked up at her. “That’s all that would’ve been left of me.” “Not any more.” He unfastened the vest and pushed it part way off. “We need to get this chain off your wrists and get you away from this pole.” One of his buddies walked up with a pair of bolt cutters. Cole let go of Jadan and took them. “I’ll do it.” He made quick work of the lock. Jadan shrugged out of the hated vest and took a deep breath. Tears blinded her as she peered up into Cole’s relieved face. “Thank you,” she whispered. He gave the bolt cutters back to the bomb squad man, pulled her into his arms, and buried his face in her hair. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” “Me, too.” “What about me?” Ali whined. “You must free me, too. I do not want to die.” “Take it easy, mister,” the bomb squad man said. He motioned to Cole. “You and the lady should move away. We have to work on this guy.” “He’s one of them,” Jadan said, urging Cole to release her. Her heart pounded. “He’s the man who tried to kill me at least twice.” “Bitch,” Ali spat. The venom in his eyes seared her to the core. “You will die a painful death.” She opened her mouth to retort, but never got the chance. Cole stepped in front of her and pulled out a pair of plastic handcuffs. “Not by your hand, asshole.” He handed the cuffs to the bomb squad man. “Put these on him once you get him free. And take him into custody. I’ll have someone take him downtown for booking.” “Sure thing, Commander.” Ali cursed, this time in English.

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Cole ignored him and took Jadan’s hand. “You ready to get out of here?” “You’d better believe it.” She smiled. “When do we leave on that cruise?”

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cole rolled over in their cabin bunk and stared at Jadan, who lay curled on her side beneath the covers. The softness of her skin never ceased to amaze him. He’d loved every inch of her every day for the past week, ever since the bomb squad had freed her from the prison of that awful vest. He’d left work that day to take his first vacation since Leah’s death. They’d boarded the cruise ship on Sunday for seven luxurious days of sleeping, eating, and making love. This was day three. Ali and the rest of his pals were now in a federal lockup. Slade had taken two days off to spend with Marisa, and when he’d gotten back to work he’d called Cole to tell him Baldwyn’s men and CSU had found traces of powdered ricin in the first warehouse. Meaning the men they’d captured had killed Kent. A combination of sadness and satisfaction filled Cole when he thought of his dead brother. He had been avenged, yet Cole hadn’t been able to tell him goodbye. And that still hurt. He had loved Kent, and he treasured every memory he had of his twin. Even the times he’d bailed Kent out of trouble. It was his brother’s wild streak that had led Cole to Jadan. Then there was Leah. He still felt a tiny pang whenever he thought of her, but her memory had settled into its permanent home in his mind. A place he could visit, but that wouldn’t make him sad. She wouldn’t want him to keep dwelling on the past. She’d want him to be happy. To do that, he needed to come clean with Jadan. She deserved to know about Leah, and he had to clear the air so he could open up to her the way he should. It was time. Jadan stirred beside him. He watched her eyes slowly blink open, and he basked in the warmth of her sleepy smile. “Morning.” “Hey, babe,” he said, the words rumbling from his chest. His horrifying visions of Leah dying had been replaced by the images of Jadan bravely wearing that vest—and surviving. She was a remarkable woman. She kissed his cheek, and slipped from the bed. “Be right back.” He settled back and enjoyed the sight of her marching naked to the tiny bathroom as the ship sped along, chopping through the waves like a knife through butter. She was alive, and she was his. His elation at her declaration of love hadn’t faded. It seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. This cruise had been a great idea. They had talked…and made love…and talked some more. The lack of danger hadn’t seemed to affect their need to be together. It was just as strong as when those men were trying to kill her. Cole couldn’t believe he’d gotten so damned lucky twice in his life.

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Jadan exited the bathroom and walked slowly back to the bed. She loved watching Cole’s face as he swept his hot gaze over her naked body. It radiated admiration, need, and masculine hunger. He made her feel so special, so loved. Never in her life had she thought she would ever find anyone to believe in her and love her like Cole did. She had been alone for far too long. She sat down on the bed and he reached for her. “Come here.” Jadan giggled and slipped willingly into his arms. He rolled her over and pinned her to the mattress. His heavy, sexy body melded to hers, making her feel like part of him. “Wanna take that trip to Tulum today? The boat leaves in an hour.” “No,” she said softly, looking up into his warm tawny eyes. A dagger of love speared her heart. “I have all the adventure I want right here.” He smiled. And then he kissed her. She reveled in the warm, delicious taste of him. Like melted mint candy. Soon, they would go for breakfast, and she would proudly show him off. Finally, after years of wondering if she would ever find someone to love, she had a handsome, strong, brave man by her side. Her thoughts couldn’t help but turn to marriage. She’d just about given up on that dream. Until now. He broke the kiss and cradled her against him. “I love you, you know.” “I love you, too.” She ran her hand over his flat stomach, and then ventured lower. His skin was hot and taut, and he quivered as her fingers drifted past his belly button. He caught her wrist. “Whoa. Let’s save that for later.” “Why wait?” She eyed him with curiosity. “We’ve made love every morning.” “This morning’s special.” She raised her eyebrows. He smiled and captured her mouth in another long, wet, searing kiss. Then he pushed himself up higher in the bed and drew her against his chest. His fingers sifted through her hair. He sat there a long time, just touching her. It felt wonderful, yet it was a little odd for Cole to remain silent for so long. She snuggled against him. “This is nice.” “It is.” “I could get used to it.” He kissed the top of her head. “You mean like, every day?” “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.” Her cheeks grew hot. “But maybe after this—” ‘We need to talk first.” “We do?” Worry stung her. She shouldn’t have said anything. She sat up and looked at him. “Sit back and relax, babe.” He urged her to settle against him like she had before. “Be still.” She turned and looked up into his eyes. Their searing intensity unnerved her. He touched her cheek in reassurance. “Let me tell you about Leah.”

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