Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (32 page)

“Not really,” she said with a stony look.

He sighed. “I’ll wash up and meet you in the kitchen.” Then he slid out the door before she could protest.

He used the head, pulled a toothpaste-on-the-finger brushing, then splashed cold water on his face and dried it with a fuzzy pink hand towel. His split lip looked moderately better—no longer swollen but still red, which meant that Olivia’s mother would definitely notice it. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin her first impression of him.

When he stepped into the hall, he heard murmured voices wafting from the kitchen. He followed the voices to the kitchen doorway, pausing to look around the room. It was tiny, all the appliances crammed in on one side of the space, and a small round table with four plastic chairs by the other wall.

An incredibly thin woman stood by the stove, tending to the eggs sizzling in a pan. Olivia hovered around her, trying to take over. “Come on, sit down,” she was urging. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

Even though Kathleen was bald and downright frail, Luke could see the resemblance between the two women, especially when Olivia’s mother turned to the door and eyed him with sharp green eyes the same shade as her daughter’s. She had Olivia’s features as well, though Kathleen’s face was hollow and gaunt. Luke’s heart constricted at the sight, but at the same time, a little burst of admiration went off inside him. Kathleen Taylor was a survivor to the core.

“Good morning,” he said. He fidgeted for a second, then entered the room, mostly because the aroma of cooking bacon was too appealing to walk away from.

Kathleen relinquished the spatula to Olivia and slowly walked toward him. Those astute eyes swept up and down, side to side, taking in the stubble on his chin and the case of bed head he no doubt sported. Not to mention the busted lip.

“Good morning,” she answered. She extended a hand. “I’m Kathleen. Liv’s mother.”

He shook her hand, saddened to realize he could crush those brittle fingers without even trying. Olivia’s mother hadn’t had an easy time with her last round of chemo; that much was obvious. “Luke Dubois,” he said.

Kathleen gave a small nod. “I like that name. It’s strong.”

He grinned. “I probably shouldn’t tell you my middle name then. It’ll make you change your mind.”

“Have a seat. I only made you two eggs, but from the looks of you, you probably need half a dozen.”

Sinking into a chair, Luke rested his forearms on the table and glanced at Olivia’s mother. “You should sit too,” he informed her. “Otherwise I think your daughter might have a panic attack.”

From the stove, Olivia shot him a glare, then bestowed one on her mother. “Seriously, Mom, sit down.”

Kathleen settled in the chair across from his, and the two of them spent a moment sizing each other up.

“So . . . what happened to your face?” she asked briskly.

“A friend and I had a little disagreement.” He flashed her a grin. “But we kissed and made up and all is good now. Nobody can stay angry with me for long.”

Kathleen didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, she continued to appraise him like he was a piece of meat she was considering either cooking or throwing away. As her silent inspection dragged on, Luke saw his chances of gaining her approval slipping away. At least until she asked what he did for a living.

When he replied, “Military,” he won her over.

“My late husband was a marine,” she revealed. “A true hero.”

Luke thought he heard Olivia snort, but when he glanced at her, she was busy sliding the cooked eggs onto a ceramic plate.

“What military branch are you in?” Kathleen asked, her tone much warmer now.

“I’m former navy. SEALs. Now I do freelance work for the government.” Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to reveal he was a mercenary who had no problem breaking the law if it came down to it. Besides, the team did take a lot of government contracts, like this latest gig for the DEA. So, not entirely a lie.

Olivia walked over with two plates, one for each of them. The difference in meals was astounding—while Luke’s plate was piled high with bacon, eggs, toast, and sliced tomatoes, Kathleen had only a single poached egg, a scoop of cottage cheese, and an unbuttered piece of bread. Apparently chemo really did a number on your appetite.

Olivia joined them a moment later with her own plate, and the three of them dug in.

“So how did you meet my daughter?” Kathleen inquired.

Olivia’s head swung in his direction. Despite her blank expression, he could hear her unspoken warning.

“At the restaurant,” he answered lightly. “I was there for a blind date, but the woman never showed. Liv was my waitress, and I think she felt sorry for me. My dinner ended up being free.”

Relief flickered in Olivia’s eyes, while Kathleen’s twinkled playfully. “I’ll bet you weren’t too disappointed to be stood up.”

“Not after I met your daughter,” he agreed. “Ten minutes in her company and I knew I’d lucked out.”

Man, he
had
lucked out, hadn’t he? He shot Olivia a sidelong look, but her face remained impassive. And her shoulders were kind of stiff, as if she wasn’t enjoying a second of this impromptu breakfast. In fact, she didn’t say much for the remainder of the meal, not even when Kathleen regaled Luke with stories about Olivia’s childhood. He laughed when she told him how Olivia used to cry when she couldn’t go to school on national holidays, but in truth, the story was only another reminder of how different they were.

Olivia Taylor was too smart. Too serious. Teacher, lawyer—it didn’t matter what she chose to do with her life because her career was only a means to get what she really wanted: security. He saw it so clearly now, especially when Kathleen mentioned Olivia’s marine father again and he saw Olivia’s lips curl in distaste.

“You remind me a bit of Eddie,” Kathleen said as she nibbled on the crust of her toast.

“How so?” he asked.

“It seems like nothing fazes you.” She smiled knowingly. “A lot of men would have snuck out the window when their girlfriend’s mother knocked on the door. In fact, I suspected you might bolt.”

He decided not to even touch the
girlfriend
thing. “I never bolt,” he said with a shrug. “If anything, I run toward trouble.”

Olivia stiffened next to him.

“Eddie was like that too. Always running into the heart of danger. He was very reckless, that man.”

With a loud scrape of her chair, Olivia stood up and carried her plate to the sink. Luke instantly knew something was wrong. He suspected it had to do with the topic of her father, but he didn’t want to bring it up in front of Kathleen. Instead, he chewed his last bite of bacon and then he got up too.

“Here, let me take this,” he said, gesturing to Kathleen’s empty plate.

“Thank you, Luke.”

He headed over to the sink and gently intercepted Olivia’s hand before she could turn on the faucet. “I’ll clean up.”

She balked. “No, that’s fine. You’re the guest.”

“And you need to get ready for school,” he reminded her. He left out the part about dropping out, what with her mother in the room.

Although she looked reluctant, she gave a nod. “Fine. I’m going to hop in the shower then.”

After she left the kitchen, Luke grabbed a sponge and some dish soap and began washing the dishes. When he felt Kathleen’s eyes on him, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

“Don’t hurt her.”

He’d figured he’d get the what-are-your-intentions speech, so her firm but gentle plea caught him off guard. “What makes you think I’m going to hurt her?” he asked roughly.

“Like I said, you remind me of Eddie. And Eddie, God bless his soul, wasn’t the most sensitive man on the planet. The thing I said about his love for danger? Well, it often came before his love for his wife. I understood that about him. Sadly, Olivia doesn’t.”

Luke swallowed. “She doesn’t want a daredevil in her life, does she?”

“Most definitely not. My daughter craves normalcy. A steady job, steady husband, steady life. I’m afraid it’s her way of ensuring she doesn’t end up like me.”

“Hey, don’t say that. She loves—”

“She loves me,” Kathleen finished. “Yes, of course she does. But she thinks I wasted my life on her father, and now she’s determined to have the kind of life she thinks I
should
have had.”

Luke placed a clean plate on the drying rack and reached for another dish. “I won’t hurt her, ma’am. I promise you.”

Kathleen’s expression softened. “I believe you mean that.”

“I do mean it.”

“Good.” Now those green eyes hardened to steel. “With that said, if you
do
hurt my daughter? You’ll have me to contend with, Luke Dubois.”

A laugh tickled his throat. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

* * *

Rocko’s call came while Vince was going over the following week’s employee schedule. “What is it?” he demanded, absently initialing the paperwork.

“There’s been a development,” Rocko said.

Impatience rippled through him. “What kind of development?”

“There was a man at her apartment.”

The blast of rage that slammed into him was so ferocious he nearly fell right out of his chair. “What are you talking about?”

“A man climbed out of her window and went down the fire escape.”

“Did you see him go in last night?”

“Winters was posted at the back of the building since nine o’clock yesterday. He says he didn’t see anyone use the fire escape yesterday or anytime this morning. The guy must have showed up last night before you assigned Winters and Del Vido to join me on guard duty.”

Acid burned a path up Vince’s throat. The thought of Olivia—of
his
girl—spending the night with another man made his vision go hazy. Red-hot fury spiraled through him. “Where is the motherfucker now?”

“He followed her when she left the apartment. He’s driving a black Range Rover with New York plates.” Rocko cleared his throat. “She’s on campus right now. I’m on her.”

“And the man?”

“He followed her to the campus, then took off. Winters has him in his sights.”

“Where’s Del Vido?”

“Back at her apartment, in case she gets any other visitors.”

Vince slammed his free hand against the desk, sending the computer mouse toppling onto the floor. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“I don’t know, boss. He looks like a civilian, but moves like military. Not government, though, or at least I don’t think so.”

Vince spoke through clenched teeth. “Deliver him to me.”

“How’re we supposed to do that?”

“I don’t fucking care how you do it. Just get it done.”

Rocko hesitated. “Where do you want us to bring him?”

“The place on Riverside Road. Call me when you have the motherfucker.”

Vince disconnected. He sat there for a moment. Motionless. Unblinking.

Rage twisted his insides into hard knots, and his breathing grew shallow, so shallow that his palms began to tingle. Olivia had invited a man into her apartment.

The bitch had a
man
in her
apartment
.

Suddenly his control snapped like a rubber band. With a growl, he swept the stack of paperwork off the desk, sending the papers flying. The computer keyboard was next, smashing onto the floor, a few keys popping out and bouncing around like marbles. Shooting to his feet, he sucked in infuriated breaths, then spun around and raised his fist, prepared to smash it into the wall behind him.

Might be a misunderstanding
, a little voice pleaded.

His fist froze. Vince struggled for breath, clinging to any rational thought he might have left.

Olivia wouldn’t betray him. She wouldn’t screw some other man, not after everything they’d been through together. She was a
virgin
, for Christ’s sake! She wouldn’t betray him. She
wouldn’t
.

But if she had?

Well, then he’d just have to kill her.

Chapter 18

Trevor and Isabel walked side by side through Central Park, close enough that their arms kept brushing. He was seriously tempted to put his arm around her, but resisted the urge.

“You sure you don’t mind sticking around?” he asked as they dodged a clumsy Rollerblader.

“I won’t leave you guys in the lurch,” she answered. “You need eyes in the club.”

“We can make do if you back out. Seriously, I wouldn’t blame you. The drug business is a nasty one.”

“Seems like every job I take is nasty,” she said with a sigh. “At least I’m not working solo on this.”

That was definitely a plus. The women Noelle employed worked alone, but Trevor didn’t like the idea of Isabel on her own during a mission. She always insisted that she only did undercover work, gathering intel before Noelle or one of the others went in to do their assassin thing, but it still bugged him. He felt fiercely protective of this woman.

They wove their way through the park, which looked especially idyllic with the changing leaves and lush autumn colors. Isabel’s contact had wanted to meet at the Bethesda Fountain, and as they got near, Trevor experienced a flicker of unease. “Are you going to tell me more about these guys other than ‘they’re information dealers’?”

She chuckled. “You don’t trust me?”

“You, I trust. Strangers, I don’t.”

“Fair enough.” She pushed a strand of blond hair off her forehead. “Their names are Oliver and Sean Reilly. I met them when I worked for the bureau.”

“Are they government?”

“Freelance. They were born in Dublin, moved to America in their teens. Their father was—probably still is, actually—involved with the IRA. He trained them, and I think they were mercenaries at one point. Now they deal in information. They’ve got contacts all over the globe, and they can pull information out of thin air.”

“Their intel is good?”

“Always. They wouldn’t be making money hand over fist if it wasn’t.” She laughed. “You’ll like them. Twin brothers, full of themselves, but pretty damn charming.”

Trevor ignored the tight squeeze of jealousy in his chest. Same damn thing had happened last night when Isabel had been laughing with Liam Macgregor.