Chapter 7

Josh stared at his monitor,his mind tumbling over and over in its habitual fashion. He'd been awake since five, confused as hell to find himself in a bed that wasn't his. Its usual occupant was nowhere to be seen.

Where did Dixon sleep last night?

That question would have to go unanswered. Right then, he had other more pressing matters to deal with.

Where is Cliff Tanner?

Who sent that email?

He'd read it over and over again, comparing it with the first one. The more he studied them, the more convinced he became that there were two authors. The second was written in a slightly more formal style, and it had been signed Cliff Tanner instead of Dr. Cliff Tanner. Tiny details, sure, but they added up to one conclusion.

I don't think he wrote it, and if I'm right, then someone else has access to his emails and he could be dead.

That was a sobering thought.

A cough behind him had Josh jumping so high, he was almost on the ceiling.

Michael stood there, gazing at him apologetically. "I should have told you I was on the way."

Josh breathed deeply in an attempt to force his heart back into its normal rhythm. "You think?" He grabbed his coffee cup and drained its contents.

Michael peered at the monitor. "What can you tell me about Tanner?"

He snorted. "Not one damn thing, apart from the fact that he was a decent guy who brought us coffee." Josh sighed. "He could be in danger."

Except he had a sneaking suspicion Tanner was past the danger point.

He glanced at Michael. "Was there something you wanted? Or are you just here to check up on me, make sure no one put a bomb under my bed?" Then he corrected himself. "Dixon's bed."

Michael rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see anyone try to get into this building, especially after last year's events. Dixon's the reason I'm here."

He shrugged. "If you're looking for him, I have no idea where he is." Josh's morning routine had been shot to hell. No Dixon in the parking lot, no one to accompany him to the lab….

Josh didn't like disruption.

Scratch that. He hated it.

"He's with Gary." Michael narrowed his eyes. "And before I say another word, can I point out that what I'm about to tell you is non-negotiable."

Alarm bells started clanging. "What is non-negotiable?"

He straightened. "As of now, you have a bodyguard."

Josh froze. "No. No way. I do not need a babysitter."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Jesus, will you just listen for one minute?"

He folded his arms in response.

"When CrossBow was attacked last year, we thought it was Porter's doing, but he denied it. So if Porter had nothing to do with it, who did?" Michael cocked his head to one side. "Can we be sure CrossBow was even the target?"

He huffed. "I was there, remember?"

Michael's eyes gleamed. "Yes, yes you were. In fact, if memory serves, you were in the lobby when it all kicked off." He fell silent, his gaze fixed on Josh's face.

It took Josh about a nanosecond to follow Michael's train of thought.

"You think I was the target?"

"I wouldn't have said so prior to yesterday. Now? I'm not so sure." Michael didn't break eye contact. "And if I'm right, then yes, you do need a bodyguard."

"Who did you have in mind?"

Michael smiled. "Dixon. And before you complain, he volunteered. Vehemently, I might add." He folded his arms to match Josh's. "So are you going to argue?"

Josh couldn't do that, not when he knew Gary was only trying to protect him.

He expelled a sigh. "Fine, he stays. But you know what I'm gonna do now?" He gestured to the computer. "I'm going to find Tanner."

"I figured you might. But if you leave here, Dixon will be your permanent shadow." Michael patted Josh's arm. "And it'll stay that way until we sort this mess out." He turned and headed for the door.

It was no use. There was something Josh had to know, and getting Michael alone was the perfect opportunity.

"Michael?" he called out.

He paused and turned. "Yeah, what's up? Forget something?"

Josh's stomach churned. "Tell me the truth. How is Gary really doing?"

At first he thought Michael wasn't going to reply. He scrubbed a hand over his face and across his head. Then he heaved a sigh of resignation. "He's not healing as quickly as the doctors would like, and definitely not fast enough for him."

Josh couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, that sounds like Gary."

"The loss of vision appears to be permanent, although they say they could try surgery."

He frowned. "What does Gary think about that?"

"He's not sure. He says he's been under the knife too many times without any positive results."

Josh could understand that.

"He moves slower," Michael continued, "which I'm sure you've already noticed, but that's to be expected. It frustrates him, and then I get frustrated too because I want to help him, but there's nothing I can do." He shrugged, and Josh got the feeling they were done. Then Michael walked back to him, stopping beside Josh's chair. He said nothing for a moment, but stood there, biting his lip.

"Something wrong?" Josh had never seen Michael so… unsure of himself.

Michael scraped a hand through his hair once more. "Not wrong, but…." Another bite of his lip. "Look, I'm just going to say this, okay? But you need to know I'm doing it as a friend."

"Say what?"

Michael took a deep breath. "Open your eyes to the things around you. Life is too short to spend it dealing with regret. So seize every chance you get." He stared at Josh. "You got that?"

Josh had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded anyway.

Michael matched his nod. "Good. And now I have to go. Gary has a therapy appointment, and I'm taking him."

They said goodbye again, and Michael left.

Josh stared at the door.

What on earth was all that about?

When he looked at the clock, it was an hour later, and he was still no closer to figuring it out.

"Have you eaten anything this morning?"

Josh glared at Dixon. "Have you been taking ninja lessons from Michael? I swear, the pair of you will give me a heart attack one of these days. And no, I haven't."

"Then isn't it a good thing I brought you these?" He held up a box.

Josh glanced at it, then sniffed. "Cinnamon rolls?"

Damn it. How did he learn me so fast?

Dixon put the box on the desk. He peered at the coffee machine. "I'll make you some fresh coffee."

Josh went back to staring at his monitor, the sounds of Dixon filling the pot merging into the background hum of machinery and lights.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm hunting."

"For what?"

Josh frowned. "Cliff Tanner. And so far he's proving elusive." Dixon placed a cinnamon roll next to the keyboard, and he grinned. "Is that a hint? ‘Take a break, Josh?'" He tore off a piece. "So good." The taste was sublime. "These are amazing."

"Glad you like them."

There was a note of pride in his words that even Josh couldn't miss. "Where'd you get them?"

Dixon murmured something, then pointed to the monitor. "Hadn't you better get back to your hunt?"

"In a minute—after you repeat whatever it was you just muttered, because I didn't quite catch that. I only want to know where you got them because I might like to stop on my way in and get some." When nothing was forthcoming, he fixed Dixon with a hard stare. "Well?"

Dixon said nothing, then pushed out a deep sigh. "I said I went down last night and made them."

"I don't believe you," Josh said, narrowing his gaze.

"Believe what you want." Dixon turned away. "It's true, though. I can even recite the recipe if you'd like. It's my mom's."

He blinked. "You really baked these?"

Dixon gave a grin. "Just like my cinnamon rolls, I too have layers."

Josh was beginning to appreciate that, but it also raised questions. Why would Dixon bake for him? And would Dixon consider making them every morning? Because damn these were good. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the phone rang.

It was Michael.

Josh swallowed his morsel. He shook his head as he clicked Answer. "You did forget something, didn't you?" He put him on speaker.

"I just had a call from the police. They've finished at the mall. I'll send a couple of guys to pick up your cars."

Josh stiffened. "I'm quite capable of collecting my own car." First a bodyguard, now this.

"No one said you weren't. I'm still sending a couple of guys."

He glared at the phone. "But it's my car."

"And you're a pain in the ass," Michael groused.

Dixon came over to where Josh sat. "Michael, how about a compromise? You have an agent drive me and Doc to the mall, then we can both collect our cars and bring them back here."

There was a pause. "Okay, that works. Parnell will be waiting for you at the front door in ten minutes."

Josh gazed at the cinnamon roll. "Make it thirty? I'm in the middle of something right now."

Michael chuckled. "Fine. Thirty minutes." He disconnected.

Dixon laughed. "I guess my cinnamon rolls were a hit."

Josh didn't reply, but ate the rest of his roll before peering into the box with a happy sigh. "You're having one as well, aren't you?"

Dixon's smile lit up his face. "Thought you'd never ask."

Parnell pulledinto the parking lot, and Doc directed him to the corner.

"Can you wait? I'm pretty sure it'll start, but just in case…."

Parnell nodded. He drove into the empty space next to the car and they got out.

"Give me the keys," Dix demanded, his hand outstretched.

Doc rolled his eyes. "I think I can unlock my own car," he grumbled, clicking on the key fob.

Fuck, the man could be so stubb?—

Dix heard the peep just as Doc was reaching for the door, and his reactions were instinctive. He grabbed him and dragged him away from the car, and about a second later, the world went boom. The blast was insanely loud, and heat roared over them as the explosion shattered the windows of the CrossBow vehicle, spraying Parnell with glass.

Dix threw Doc to the ground before covering his slender form with his own bulk. Heat surged across his back, and Dix knew his shirt was on fire, but he couldn't move. He had to protect Doc. At last the noise died down, and he sprang to his feet, ripping the flaming cloth from his body. There were burns on his arms, and he was certain there were more on his back. Thankfully the pain was not debilitating.

Doc was more important.

Dix helped him to stand. "You okay?" Doc's dazed expression as he stared at the twisted wreckage of his pretty car made him certain he was suffering from shock. Around them, people came running over. Parnell was already on his phone, no doubt informing Michael of what had happened.

Doc let out a whine. "Again? What do they have against my cars?" Then he turned in Dix's direction, and his mouth dropped open. "Dixon!"

"Not so loud," he chastised. "We need to find some cover." He scanned the parking lot, tensed for further explosions.

"But you're on fire," Doc protested.

"I'm singed," he corrected. He glanced down. "I've probably lost some chest hair." That would result in a bald spot for a while. "Don't you worry about me. I'm fine." He glared. "Does this show why you need a bodyguard?"

Doc raised his chin to meet Dix's gaze, and the haunted look in his eyes made Dix's stomach churn.

It's finally sinking in. People are blowing shit up, not caring who is hurt in the fallout, just to get to him.

If Dix had been in Doc's shoes, he'd have been scared shitless.

"Dixon?" Parnell held his phone out. "Michael wants to talk to you."

He took it. "Yeah, we're in trouble."

"So I understand. Seven agents are on their way. You and Josh will be escorted back here, and the others will deal with the wreckage, not to mention your car."

Dix sighed. "I don't think they'll have touched mine." He glanced at Doc's ashen skin, his vacant stare. "Right now, I have bigger problems. Doc's a mess."

"I'll have someone waiting here to look him over. And as of now, he doesn't leave CrossBow—for any reason."

Shit, Doc's gonna lose it when he hears this.

Michael was right, though. They had to protect Doc at all costs.

"I'll see you soon." He hung up and handed the phone back to Parnell. Dix laid a gentle hand on Doc's shoulder. "Help is on the way."

Doc stared at the remains of his car. "This is crazy."

Crazy didn't even begin to scratch the surface.