Bear Claw Conspiracy (14 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Matt drained the hot tub, stuck his clothes in the dryer and generally pulled the place back together while Alyssa ran the plates.

Any thoughts he might’ve had of a breakfast of eggs and toast with a side of “hey, that got pretty intense last night” had been shot to hell by the break in the case, but maybe that was for the best.

In the clearer-headed light of day, the mind-blowing sex they’d shared didn’t change the fact that she had her sights set elsewhere and he didn’t have his set on much of anything. In fact, he flat-out hated the idea of her joining a hazardous response team.

Not because she wouldn’t be good at it, but because she would be great at it, and there was no way in hell he could wave her off to work and then wonder if she was coming back. The fact that he could picture himself doing just that—and imagine it driving him nuts—just proved he had gotten himself in way too deep last night and needed to back off, fast.

Meanwhile, Gigi was acting as if it was no big deal. He might have been annoyed if he hadn’t seen the hint of a plea at the back of her eyes, the well-hidden desperation that said she wasn’t any more comfortable with how things had gone than he was, and they should just leave it alone.

Her phone rang in the bedroom, where she was getting dressed in Chelsea’s spare clothes.

“It’s Alyssa,” she called. “I’m putting her on speaker.”

“Thanks.” He moved into the bedroom doorway and leaned in, looking at the phone rather than Gigi, yet very aware of the sidelong look she shot him.

After the hellos were out of the way, Alyssa said, “Assuming these guys were dumb enough—or ballsy enough—not to switch out the plates, there’s only one truck that matches the description and your partial.”

“The guys in the truck were amateurs,” Matt said with total certainty. “I’m not sure if they’re the same ones who went after Tanya or torched the station, but these guys didn’t shoot or drive like pros.”

“Who’s the registered owner of the truck?” Gigi asked. She had one hip propped on the edge of the mattress, as if trying to prove to herself that it was no biggie that they had shared the bed.

“Alex MacDonald. He’s a sometimes handyman, always troublemaker who lives near the arena and has a fondness for off-track betting and the occasional hunting trip.”

Gigi glanced at him. “Did he come through Station Fourteen?”

“If he did, he didn’t make enough of a fuss for me to remember his name. I’d check the records, but…”

“They’re torched.”

“Right.” Even with the fire threat, there hadn’t seemed to be any reason to store copies of the hiking permits online. Most of the people who came through Station Fourteen only lasted a few days, a couple of weeks at the outside.

“I’ll send you a picture,” Alyssa said.

“Do you have him in custody?”

“Jack is on his way over to his place right now. I—hang on. Tucker’s calling in on the other line. I’m going to put you on hold. Be right back.” Alyssa clicked off.

That left Matt in the bedroom doorway, Gigi on the bed and a huge elephant in the room, sitting between them.

He told himself to leave it alone, then surprised the hell out of himself by saying, “If I asked you out to dinner once this was over, what would you say?”

From the look on her face, he had surprised the hell out of her, too. Her eyes widened and new color touched her cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if that was from pleasure or something else. Then her lips curved, though the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “When this is over, why don’t you ask me and we’ll find out?”

With timing so perfect he suspected she had been listening in, Alyssa said, “I’m back. Jack says Alex MacDonald is in the wind, his apartment pretty close to stripped. Cassie is off on a call, so Tucker is going to pick me up and run me over to the apartment to process what’s left.”

“Are you sure—” Gigi began.

“I’m sure I’m going to lose it if I don’t do
something
other than sit on my rapidly spreading butt and coordinate calls and manpower,” Alyssa snapped. Then, a little calmer, she said, “The apartment is locked down and there’s no off-road bouncing around involved in getting there. You’d need some serious firepower to keep me away, because I hate that these bastards came after you two, and it scares me to think they might try again.”

“How about Gigi and I meet you there?” Matt asked. “I can discuss a few things with Tucker while you two work the scene.” And it would double up on the firepower if it turned out that the apartment was a trap.

“He said you would say that. I’ll send you the address. See you when you get here.” The line went dead as she clicked off.

Gigi stood and pocketed the phone, then smoothed her palms down the borrowed pants, which were a little too big. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

“One minute.” Going on instinct, making the sort of split-second decision that used to be second nature, he crossed to her, cupped a hand around the back of her neck and laid his lips on hers.

She stiffened and brought her hands up, he thought to push him away. But instead she curled her fingers into his T-shirt and pulled him closer, opening her mouth beneath his.

Heat seared straight through his gut at the touch of her tongue and the taste of her, which was instantly familiar yet still stunningly new. He crowded closer, so their bodies aligned, and his flesh hardened in moments, though he should have been sated.

He couldn’t get enough of her. He buried his hands in her hair, ran his tongue along the rim of her ear, tugged at the studs with his teeth and made her moan. Then he eased away, brushing her hair behind her ears and watching how the shorter half of it fell forward once more. “Okay. Now I’m ready to go.”

No regrets.

A
S
G
IGI FOLLOWED
A
LYSSA
into MacDonald’s apartment, which was a small second floor one-bedroom in a dingy three-floor apartment building in a not very nice section of town, she was still debating how much—if anything—to tell her friend about what had happened with Matt.

But the moment the door closed behind them, shutting out the two uniforms stationed in the hallway, Alyssa faced her, crossed her arms atop Baby McDermott and said implacably, “Okay, sister. Spill it.”

“I… Darn it, you were listening in on the phone the whole time.”

“I caught the end of it, anyway. Sue me.” Her eyes gleamed. “What happened with you two last night?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be processing a scene?” Gigi took a pointed look around, though admittedly there didn’t seem to be much of a scene to process. The apartment had been stripped back to bare walls and plain furniture, with nothing personal that she could see.

“Yep. And it’ll go much faster if you confess, so we can get started.” Alyssa paused. “Or you can tell me to mind my own business.”

Gigi winced. “Ouch. Low blow.”

“I’ll start. You slept together. That’s obvious, given the way he was looking at you just now.”

“I…” To Gigi’s horror, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, crap.” She spun away, mortified, feeling her control start to slip. Aware that Alyssa was coming over, knowing that a kind word might break her, she held up a hand. “Don’t. Please.”

“Sorry. I’m pregnant, which means I can do pretty much what I want and I’ll be forgiven.” The blonde wrapped her arms around Gigi, sandwiching Baby McDermott between them, and said, “You don’t have to be a hero with me. Not ever.”

A big sob welled up, jamming Gigi’s throat. She held on for another few seconds, then let go, sagging against Alyssa and giving herself permission to lose it and give in to the shakes that had eluded her the night before.

Her friend hung on. “It’s okay, kiddo. Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

She sucked in a shuddering breath as tears scalded her eyes, but to her surprise, that was all that happened. After a moment, she lost the overwhelming urge to wail, and the tightness in her throat eased. A minute after that, she could breathe again.

Letting out a shaky laugh, she straightened away from Alyssa. “Well. That was anticlimactic. I guess…I think… Wow. It’s been a pretty intense few days.”

Alyssa pressed her hands into her lower back and leaned against a corner of a ratty couch that looked like a few more fibers wouldn’t make any difference one way or the other. “Would that be the part where you dove back into a burning building, made it through a car chase or spent the night with Matt in the ‘safe’ house?” The finger quotes said she knew exactly what kind of a house it was.

“All of it.” Gigi’s cheeks heated. “And you could’ve warned me about the cabin.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“Maybe.” But honesty compelled her to admit, “Probably not.” She and Matt had been on a collision course. It would’ve happened with or without the ambience.

“So. You going to give a pregnant lady some details?”

“Only if said pregnant lady is working while we talk.” Given that MacDonald had taken the time to strip the place bare, logic said that it probably wouldn’t yield anything useful. But instinct itched along her spine, telling her that there was something…

Or maybe not. Maybe her emotions had screwed with her instincts. Wasn’t that what Matt had been implying when he mentioned the two guys on his team who’d had things on their mind the day of the bank robbery?

It didn’t escape her that his point jibed with the Lynd protocol: one thing at a time. Work, then family. Mixing the two was risky, especially if you wanted to be the best at both.

Alyssa nodded. “How about you get started and I’ll catch up. Better yet, I’ll observe your highly trained technique.”

“Wow. You’re really working it, aren’t you?” Gigi sent her a look. “Or are you feeling crappy again?”

“Little bit of both.” She nudged her field kit with a toe. “I’m waiting.”

Gigi put on her protective gear and got to work, first taking a tour of the apartment, looking for obvious stuff and snapping some overview photos, and then coming back to the main room.

Alyssa sent her a look, then pointedly drummed her fingers atop Baby McDermott. “Still waiting.”

Starting with a banged up wooden desk that had a layer of dust on it with a laptop-shaped void off to one side, Gigi took more pictures with a ruler for scale, and then used a shoeprint-size piece of transfer paper to take a print of the laptop. She wasn’t hopeful that it would lead to anything, though. Thanks to the TV shows, the bad guys had gotten way better at cleaning up after themselves.
Hello, CSI effect.

Finally, she said, “I called my mom last night to tell her what was going on.”

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“I couldn’t tell her about it. Any of it.” Gigi went through the drawers, which held nothing but lint and crumbs. “She just finally started getting behind the idea of me trying to get into the accelerated training program. Mostly because it’s a tangible goal that involves testing and competition, which she gets, even if she doesn’t understand why this is what I want to do.”

“Dangerous professions can be harder on the family than the individual. The individual chooses the job, chooses the risk. The family members don’t always get a vote.”

Hearing a tone, Gigi glanced over. “You and Tucker make it work, and so do Cassie and Seth.”

“Three of the four of us are analysts. And while we see more action than the norm, being in Bear Claw—or in Seth’s case, a field office—the action is still the exception. As for Fax and Chelsea…well, they’re different. He sponsored her into the agency, made her his partner. But…” She shook her head. “He worked under a female superior for a long time, which I think makes him more ready to accept Chelsea being in the field with him.”

Gigi let out a soft sigh. “Whereas Matt has spent most of his life trying to protect the world from itself.”

“He could change.”

Now it was Gigi’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe not.” Alyssa paused. “Where did you guys leave things?”

With a kiss that had shot right to the top of her top ten, one that had made her feel strong yet feminine, like she was the supercop’s girl, the center of his world. “With a ‘maybe’ on going out to dinner after this case is wrapped up and things go back to normal.”

Alyssa made a face. “Which one of you was doing the most backpedaling?”

“I’d say we were about even.” Gigi abandoned the desk and moved to the couch, which was the only other large piece of furniture in the cramped sitting area.

Alyssa shifted over to lean on the desk, moving slowly, while Gigi gave the carpet a quick scan—wincing at the profusion of fibers, most if not all of which would be totally useless.

Part of an analyst’s job was making judgment calls about what to collect and what to leave behind. Each piece of evidence she selected represented dollars, man hours, storage space and analytics.

One of the things that made her very good at what she did was her instincts. Normally, she could look at a scene and know, at a gut-check level, what to take. Now, though, her instincts were humming, but they weren’t telling her anything. It wasn’t just Alyssa being there, either. Her head wasn’t in the game.

She used a small flashlight to look under the couch, trying to make out anything useful amid the dust rats. “When I woke up this morning, I thought to myself that if he asked me to turn down the academy and stay here with him, I would seriously consider it.” She was ashamed even saying it aloud. “I’ve known the guy—really known him, I mean, not just to the point of avoiding each other in the hallway—for what, seventy-two hours? And we’ve been in each other’s faces—and not in the good way—for more than half that time. So it’s ridiculous for me to even think…” She shook her head. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but there’s such a thing as love at first sight.”

Gigi snorted. “Lust at first sight, maybe, but not love. We’re not… It’s not like that.” But she glanced over. “Was it that way for you and Tucker?”

“No way. We met. We danced. We hooked up. We realized, belatedly, that we were going to be working together. And big, bad Tucker McDermott, the original ‘I’m a rolling stone, just passing through’ didn’t want anything to do with a girl who wanted to put down roots, so we spent the next few months snarling at each other.” She shook her head. “No, I’m thinking of Fax and Chelsea, actually. When she met him, he was posing as a convict and had just helped al-Jihad himself break out of the ARX prison. He was on the job, deep undercover…and they got one good look at each other, and fell hard.”