Chapter 7

One eye on his captive,Mason craned his head, trying to make out any landmarks in the dark. The mist was clearing at least, leaving the Seattle streets slick and shining with fresh rain. The hilly city was ablaze with lights, reflecting off damp pavement as Paul nosed the rental car onto the street.

Mason focused on the woman crammed into the seat beside him, acutely aware of her floral perfume mingling with the scent of rain in the enclosed space. She radiated fury, arms crossed tightly, full lips pressed into a hard line. But she couldn’t hide her quickened breathing or the way her pulse fluttered at the base of her lovely throat.

He kept his knife at the ready, hyper aware of her proximity. She was all coiled energy and defiance, ready to erupt into action at the slightest opportunity.

“Circle around the neighborhoods. Stay on quiet streets,” he told Paul gruffly, eyes never leaving the agent’s stormy gaze.

Her eyes flashed, and he felt a ridiculous urge to smooth the little furrow between her brows. He had to keep his wits about him and ignore her distracting nearness. Getting information was his sole focus … no matter how aware of her he was.

It wouldn’t take long to get the information he needed from this agent, then they could drop her wherever she wanted.

“You are in so much trouble,” she warned, eyes flashing.

“Probably,” he agreed mildly. Grabbing her was a desperate move, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make her talk quickly. Subtle interrogation wasn’t his specialty. He left the talking to Bridger and Fenn. Usually, he just threatened people or knocked a few heads together.

He met her defiant gaze with a steady stare of his own. Hopefully they could handle this without violence. But one way or another, he was getting answers.

The woman shifted farther away from him, until she was crammed up against the door. “My backup’s going to start getting antsy.”

“Nice try.” He made a sympathetic face. “I know you’re flying solo.”

“Am not,” she insisted. “My partner probably already called for backup.”

“Doubtful. I swept the area before entering the restaurant. There was no one around. No fake utility vans. No other agents loitering nearby.”

Her lips thinned. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t on the way. You really think I’d go into a situation like that alone?”

“Yup.” He gave her an earnest look. “Whatever case you’re working, it seems off the books. Unofficial.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know enough.” He let confidence fill his voice. “For one, a seasoned agent like you would never have let me get the drop on you if this was an authorized op.”

Her eyes widened fractionally before she masked it.

“It’s okay, I’ve been there,” he said gently. “Sometimes you gotta break the rules to get justice.”

Her gaze shuttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He held her stare, unwilling to back down. “I think you do. And I think you know that I know it too.”

Her lips tightened. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Fair enough. But I recognize that look in your eyes. You’re on a mission, and you won’t let anyone stop you. Not even your superiors.” He let understanding fill his tone. “Like I said. Been there.”

She looked away, jaw rigid.

He suppressed a smile. Getting through that prickly exterior was going to take some doing. Luckily, he’d always enjoyed a challenge.

She must be afraid, yet she was no pushover. No whining or bargaining for her freedom. She had a cool head and a sharp tongue. He had to admire that, even if she’d consider him an enemy for life after this.

Well, what was one more adversary? He’d certainly faced worse. For now, he needed information, and she clearly wasn’t going to give it up easily. He’d have to get creative if he wanted answers.

And he’d have to do it fast. Now he knew she was on her own, probably running a totally unauthorized op, but he couldn’t expect to hang onto a trained agent for long.

Even with the windows up, the smell of damp vegetation and fresh rain mingled with the scent of the agent’s perfume. Mason tried to make out her features in the transient light from passing streetlights, but mostly all he could make out was the silhouette of her thick curls. He peered at her, wishing for better light. But the shadows cloaking them suited his purposes for now. All he needed was to gain her trust enough to learn why she was after Paul.

He kept his voice low.”I’m Mason Ortiz, retired SEAL, currently an operative with a private security firm, Redemption Incorporated. This dufus is my younger brother, Paul. I got a call from him earlier today asking for help. Sounds like he’s found himself caught up in some trouble. Wrong place, wrong time kind of deal.” He shot Paul a look in the rearview mirror. “Or so he says.”

The woman’s eyes never left his during his recitation. He could feel her soaking in the info. But instead of reciprocating, she let the silence grow.

An excellent technique.

Mason cleared his throat. “This is the part where you’re supposed to tell me what you were doing back there.”

The quip earned him a cute, tight-lipped smile. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re not undercover,” he guessed. “No agent would carry a real badge and ID on an op. I’m willing to bet yours are in that purse.”

The woman’s eyes flashed. “Fine. I’m FBI, and no, I’m not undercover.”

Mason admired her grit. “I appreciate your honesty. Why are you after my brother?”

She lifted her chin. “Need-to-know.”

He nodded slowly. Getting full cooperation was apparently going to take more creativity. “How about we start with something easier. How about a name?”

“How about not?”

“I could just call you Candy if you’d prefer.”

She gave him a death glare.

“No? How about I dip into your purse?”

“Go ahead. Won’t hurt my feelings to add robbery to your growing list of charges.”

Mason wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to get this woman to reveal why she was after Paul. He still didn’t even know what kind of trouble his brother was in, only that this agent was connected somehow.

He scuffed a booted foot against the floorboard. “Fine. We’ll start.” He tapped Paul on the shoulder. “Tell me what you did.”

Paul held up his hands before quickly grabbing the wheel again. “I didn’t do anything. I just took a new job, that’s all. Everything was fine until …” He trailed off, shoulders hunching.

Mason didn’t bother to hide his skepticism.

“No really,” Paul insisted. “All I did was take a great new job, the one I called you about like a month ago. Truck mechanic for a big company, Rain Bay. They run their own fleet, plus they handle logistics for a bunch of other trucking companies. Turns out, I was so good at it I got promoted last week.”

Mason was even more skeptical now. “That’s only a month into the position.”

“Three weeks, technically.” Pride replaced Paul’s troubled look for a second before fading quickly. “Anyway, that’s when things got weird.”

“Weird how?” Mason pressed.

Paul slowed the vehicle, turning down yet another empty side street. “I got moved up to the A team. They work in a whole separate warehouse. Everything there’s some huge secret. It took me a week to figure out why.” He paused, looking at the woman in the mirror.

She smiled faintly, her vibe steady and reassuring. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re going to say.”

Paul tensed. “If I talk, I’m dead.” He slowed the car again, turning to meet Mason’s gaze beseechingly. “I’m telling you, all I did was take a stupid job. I just took a job, man. A legit job for once. I didn’t start any trouble, I swear.” His voice wavered. “But I’m deep in it now. The company’s moving illegal merch. They’re not gonna let me leave. You gotta believe me.”

Mason studied his brother’s anxious face. He seemed genuinely afraid. Was it possible he was telling the truth this time? That for once, Paul wasn’t the cause of his own chaos?

The woman interrupted his thoughts. “He’s right. That’s why I was tailing him. Your brother’s in danger.”