Intrusion (8 page)

“I’m changing.” She jerked the camisole over her head. “And you sure as hell haven’t earned a free peepshow.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” The thick door couldn’t muffle the laughter in his voice. “I don’t mind giving you a hand. And, to set the record straight, I’m not just using you to keep my own ass out of jail. Although it is rather precious to me.”

A smile escaped her mouth and she forced her lips back into a line. Yeah, he had a great sense of humor. Sure, his voice alone could melt the ice around her heart, not to mention the warmth of his touch. But that didn’t make him someone she could put her faith in.

She stepped out of her wrinkled slacks and tossed them over the ripped up mattress. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Look, the cops would like nothing better than to get this case off their backs by pinning it on you and me. And once they catch us and put us safely in prison, they’re not going to look any further for the real culprits. They’ll just pat themselves on the back for a job well done and ask for a raise.”

That didn’t answer her question.

She reached for a clean bra. Her fingers recoiled into her palm. Someone else had touched her underwear, her clothes. She swallowed. God, she hated this, but the cops would be looking for a woman in a pantsuit. She couldn’t afford to be picky.

And she couldn’t afford to trust Cam, either. He’d have no qualms about leaving her high and dry if it meant he’d benefit from it.

He knocked on the door. “You almost done?”

Snatching up her bra and panties she slid them on. “Almost.”

She chose a pair of jeans and an ASU t-shirt from the scattered clothes at her feet and yanked them on over her undergarments. The hairclip straggling in her hair had to go. She dragged it from her hair, the sudden sound of sirens invading her ears.

Oh, God. They were coming for her. From the strength of the sound, the patrol cars were still a good mile or so away. Not much time.

“Audra?” Cam pounded on the door. “Light a fire under your ass. We’ve got company.”

She glanced from the closed door to the window. Take her chances with Cam or turn herself in to the cops on her own terms? At least with the police she’d know what she was getting. With Cam…he was too risky, the unknown quantity in her equation.

The sirens grew louder, their wail banding around her heart.

She scooped up a handful of loose change scattered across the floor and shoved it into her pocket. A pair of sandals had fallen out of her closet. She flipped them over with her bare feet and put them on.

She dashed over to the window and slid it open. Reaching up inside it, she unlatched the screen and tossed it onto the gravel below.

“Audra!”

The doorknob rattled, shaking right through her. She shoved one leg through the window, glanced back at the door. Cam would be fine. He’d already proved himself more than resourceful. She was no use to him without her research.

Her gaze snagged on a brown knit cap draped across her overturned nightstand. She snatched it into her hand and tugged it over her hair. Swinging her other leg outside, she dropped to the ground and made a run for it.

Chapter Six

The sirens abruptly cut off mid-wail.

Cam had enough familiarity with police procedure to know the sudden silence didn’t bode well for him and Audra. Instead of an open pursuit, the patrol cars were now creeping down the block, hoping to get the jump on them.

He reared back and kicked in Audra’s bedroom door. A shaft of pain spiked through his left knee.
Damn it to hell. Wrong leg.
He clenched his jaw to dull the burning throb and shoved aside the splintered door.

“Audra—”

He swept the empty room from one side to the other, honing in on the open, screen-less window.

Oh, no, she didn’t.

Son of a bitch! Audra had ditched him.

And any minute now the cops would start busting down the front door. He spun on his heel and dashed through the battered living room. Anger burned in his veins but he dialed it back to a low simmer. How could he have let her get away?

You’re slipping, Scott.

He suppressed the shudder that trickled through him. Staying one step ahead of any situation was as instinctive as breathing. Combined with his passion for success, those two qualities had shaped him into one of the most talented computer crackers in the Special Forces.

Winning was what he was good at. What he was respected for. What would remain if he allowed the most important part of himself to be stripped away?

His injury may have turned him into road kill, but he was damned if he’d allow the vultures—even the internal ones—to tear him apart piece by piece. He had one shot at reclaiming his reputation—and she’d just ditched him.

He had to find Audra before the police nabbed him. Didn’t she know whoever stole the prototype and her research wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate her too? Damn it, it was his fault she was running around in the streets. He should’ve stopped jerking her chain and showed her he could be trusted.

He took the corner into the kitchen at a fast clip. His feet skidded against the kitchen tile and plowed into an overturned cart. Letters were scattered across the floor and his gaze snagged on an envelope bearing a local cellular company’s logo. He snatched it off the floor and shoved it in his pocket.

He dashed out the back door, ducked past the gate and dove into the open window of the truck, twisting the key into the ignition. The engine spluttered, coughed, then finally started. He rammed the gearshift into drive and stomped on the gas. The truck lurched forward several inches and died.

Shit.

Cam threw the truck back in park, wrenched the ignition on, and waited. Splutter, cough, catch. He revved the stubborn motor, announcing his position as clear as if he’d stood on top of the damn truck and waved his arms.

Two cops spilled out the back door of Audra’s house and headed straight for him. Pedal to the floor, he yanked the truck into drive. His hands slipped on the steering wheel. The back tires squealed against the pavement making the truck fishtail. He dug his fingers deeper into the worn leather and the truck shot down the alley.

Perspiration crawled across his brow and dampened his armpits. He jerked the wheel, turning onto first one residential street and then another until his heart rate slowed and he’d left Audra’s house far behind him.

Cam flicked the pickup’s blinker on and turned into a crowded movie theater parking lot. He glided into an empty space near the rear, shut off the engine and jumped out. The smell of panic clung to his damp shirt and he stripped it off, tossing it into the bed of the truck.

He grabbed his duffel and laptop bag from the bed and slung them over his shoulder. Without a backward glance, he started walking, his mind already reeling with possibilities as to Audra’s whereabouts.

She may not have believed she could trust him, but she’d have to go to someone, somewhere, for help. If he wanted to find her, all he needed to do was locate the one person she thought she could trust with her life.

***

Jonathan had agreed to help her.

Audra paced in front of the Circle K’s pay phone, the taste of gasoline and exhaust fumes filling her mouth. Okay, so he hadn’t specifically said he’d help, but he had agreed to come and get her. Once she had the chance to convince him she wanted to do the right thing, he’d support her. With an advocate from the Department of Defense to plead her innocence to the feds, they’d take her seriously and start a broader investigation of the theft. Wouldn’t they?

God, she hoped so.

She leaned against the wall to wait, tugging her hat down over her ears to get her mind off the guilt that gnawed at her. What about Cam? Was he able get out of her house before the police caught up to him? His face flitted through her mind, the way his eyes had gone from hard steel to soft wool when she'd picked up the broken picture of her mother.

Had she made a mistake in not trusting him?

A mistake? In not trusting a man who was a fugitive from the law, just like her? He needed to clear his name every bit as much as she. What would stop him from leaving her high and dry once he found enough evidence to vindicate himself? Hers was the harder case to prove, after all.

No, she couldn't leave her fate in his hands. She’d done the right thing by going to Jonathan. He had the influence she needed. Cam did not.

A silver Mercedes Benz ML350 with tinted windows pulled into the parking lot and slowed to a stop in front of her. She hurried forward and reached for the door.

Jonathan pushed it open. “Get in. Quickly.”

She slid into the seat and breathed in the scent of tanned leather and citrus air freshener.

“Your face is being plastered across every news channel.” Jonathan shifted into drive and left the gas station. “How could you run like that, Audra?”

“I didn’t steal the armor, Jonathan. You have to believe me. When the judge denied my bail, I just…I panicked.”

She fisted her hands in her lap hoping he wouldn’t make anything of the fact that she’d deliberately left Cam’s name out of the equation. No one needed to be aware of what had transpired between them. She wished him well in his own quest for answers and that included helping him keep a low profile.

“If I didn’t believe you, I wouldn’t be here.” Jonathan’s brusque voice penetrated her thoughts. “But I’m not sure what I can do for you without some concrete proof. Surely you must have an idea of who would be after our prototype. What about this security consultant Charlie hired for Nanodyne? Aren’t the police out looking for him?”

“Yes” She let out a pent up breath. “But a man like him has nothing to gain from stealing high-tech dynamic armor.”

“Except for money.” His voice had gone flat with a sharp edge to it.

Audra shuddered. “Not everyone cares about money.”

“No, you’re right.” He braked at a red light, his voice hushed. “There are far stronger motivators than greed. And that worries me. You could be in danger.”

“I want you to turn me in.”

Silence filled the car for several heartbeats, breaking with Jonathan’s razor sharp laughter. “You can’t be serious. I thought you wanted my help.”

“I do. Can’t you use your connections with the FBI? Convince them that I’m willing to help find the real thief. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t care. I just want my life back.”

He reached across the shifter to cup her shoulder. “I’ll help.” His eyes bored into hers looking more dirty green than their usual clear blue. “But it’s going to take some time to set things in motion with the FBI. I know of a place, a former safe house belonging to a retired agent. Will you stay there while I get in contact with the Bureau?”

The light turned green and Jonathan stepped on the gas. Audra watched the palm trees along the road fly by, her stomach tightening into knots. A safe house? It was the perfect solution, and yet, she couldn’t shake the small hint of doubt that prickled at her skin.

Ridiculous. Jonathan was going out on a limb for her. She’d be foolish to turn down his offer.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

***

Cam’s fingers skimmed across the smooth black surface of his laptop, rubbing away a smudge. His good old ‘American Express’: he never left home without it. Crammed with the latest technology, including state-of-the-art GPS tracking software, his laptop was his one loyal companion in life.

He slouched in the frayed chair in one of the Plainsman’s finest motel rooms—so fine he refused to go anywhere near the bed. Who knew what scary microbes lurked on those sheets. When a motel charged by the hour, the clientele tended to forego cleanliness in favor of anonymity. Perfect for his purposes—his health, not so much.

He folded up Audra’s cell phone bill and shoved it into his laptop case. Damn, her call logs were boring as hell. Work. Work. Work. When did she ever find time to play?

Repeated calls to both her Department of Defense contact and her assistant were about as wild as she got. Simple deduction told him she wouldn’t go to Margaret Stanton for help. The older woman had no connections and Audra would most likely be reluctant to involve her in this mess.

But Jonathan Peterson…well, there was a man someone like Audra could put her faith in. A solid, upstanding, government employee who probably got off on counting nanoparticles every bit as much as she did.

He grimaced, punching Peterson’s number into his tracking program, and pushed back the kernel of resentment that threatened to pop in his gut. What did it matter if Audra didn’t think Cam worthy of her trust? He didn’t need her to believe in him, he just needed her intelligent mind. With trust came responsibility—and an even greater risk of failure. A team born out of desirable skills instead of misguided faith had the better opportunity for success. Now he only had to convince Audra to give him a chance.

He straightened, working a kink out of his back, and waited for the red blip on his computer screen to stop moving. He leaned forward, studying its location.

Gotcha.

Grabbing a pen from the scarred table, he jotted down the coordinates on his palm.

***

The town of Cave Creek nestled in the foothills of the Black Mountain somehow managed to maintain its old west charm despite its location just outside the metropolitan Phoenix area. It also felt much more isolated than Audra would’ve liked.

She stepped out of Jonathan’s car in front of a two-story Spanish mission style house. A large cactus was planted in the front yard, and sycamore trees lined the pebbled walkway. Rough-hewn logs protruded from the brown stucco and a small rock fountain bubbled in a corner of the portico.

Jonathan knocked on the front door and it was opened seconds later by a man in a dark suit, his black hair cropped short, his eyes dark and intent. His stiff posture had FBI written all over it.

He ushered her into a hacienda style living room. Here the stucco walls were a golden yellow and the peeled log ceiling was stained a deep mahogany. A river rock fireplace was the room’s focal point, though the grate was currently empty. Several colorful Mexican blankets were scattered atop the room’s furnishings.