Red Zone (28 page)

“Be that as it may, the women appear to be the one constant.”

“What does that mean?”

Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. “Who would be bothered by who you date? Even though whoever this is has been keeping watch, this is the first time they’ve pointed to a specific person and told you to get rid of her.”

“You,” he said, pointedly. “They’re telling me to get rid of
you
.”

“I know.” 

There was pain in his eyes, hurt. She wanted to comfort him. The tips of her fingers itched with the need to touch him, but she held back. As much as she wanted to hold him and have him hold her as well, at that moment he needed her as an FBI agent, not a girlfriend. 

“I know I’ve asked this before, but is there an ex-girlfriend? Maybe even someone who has had a crush on you for a long time but hasn’t said anything?”

Gage ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “I don’t know. There was a girl I dated for a while in college, but it was never really that serious. Everything else is high school stuff. I can’t see any of them doing this.”

“A crush?”

He shook his head, the note clenched in both hands. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway toward them, and they both looked up in the direction of the noise. 

“We should go see Donovan.”

Gage didn’t respond other than to take her hand and start walking. They passed the guard they’d heard on their way to the elevator. He smiled and nodded as he passed them.

Once inside the closed space of the elevator, Gage backed her up against the wall and gave her a hard kiss, holding her hips firmly in his hands. It was over almost before it began, but it conveyed more meaning than words could have at that point. The doors opened, and she stood there stunned for a moment before shaking herself back to reality and the business at hand. 

After two short raps to Donovan’s door, a voice called for them to enter. The team’s owner sat behind his large wooden desk. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Come in,” he said, motioning to the seats in front of his desk. 

They sat down, Gage never letting go of her hand. Donovan noticed. 

“I see you two are getting along better. That’s good.”

“Everything’s great.” Sarcasm dripped from Gage’s words, and Donovan frowned. 

“Another envelope was delivered today,” Rebecca said, jumping in before something happened between the two. Gage was already on edge, she could feel it, see it in the way he held his body. He didn’t need to start a fight with his boss on top of everything else.

“May I see it?”

Rebecca took the picture and held it up for Donovan to see. 

“I’d rather you not touch it, Mr. Donovan. It will make fingerprinting’s job a lot easier.”

“Oh yes, of course,” he said, leaning across the desk to take a closer look. When he realized what the picture was of, he glance over at her, eyebrows raised in question.

“It seems the person wants me out of Gage’s life.”

Donovan sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“You got all that from a picture?”

Gage abruptly stood up, slamming the typed note onto the desk. 

When Donovan read the note, he visibly paled. 

“Oh.”

“As you can see, this changes things,” Rebecca said, laying a hand on Gage’s arm, urging him to sit back down.

“Yes, I suppose it does. What happens now?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

Both Donovan and Gage looked at her with wide eyes. 

“If we do anything now, we give the stalker what they want. If he or she is agitated by our lack of compliance, there is more chance of them taking a risk, and slipping up.”

“Or doing something more reckless and getting my star quarterback hurt or killed.”

Rebecca shook her head, disagreeing. “I don’t think that will happen. Gage is rarely alone. And based on this new evidence, I’d say I’m more at risk than he is for the time being.”

Gage reached for her hand again, holding it tight in both of his. 

“Are we any closer to catching whoever it is?” Donovan asked, ignoring Gage’s reaction.

“We are. My partner is in the process of following a very promising lead at the moment. If all goes well, we may have a suspect in custody soon.”

Donovan released a deep breath. “That’s good to hear.”

After a few more probing questions, to which she provided vague answers, Rebecca and Gage left Donovan’s office and headed back to the players’ parking lot. 

By the time they reached Gage’s SUV, she was beginning to worry about him. He hadn’t said a word on the way down, and he’d refused to let go of her hand for any length of time. She’d had to request he release it long enough for her to remove her gloves after placing the envelope, picture, and note in a plastic bag Donovan provided. As soon as the gloves were off and tucked back inside her back pocket, he took hold of her hand once more. She’d again had to ask him to let go so she could check the vehicle and they could get inside. He quickly fastened his seatbelt once they climbed in, and reached for her hand.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you all right?”

He stared at her, eyes full of something she didn’t want to put a name to. “Someone is targeting you because of me. No. I’m not all right.”

“It’s my job, Gage,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Is that all I am to you? A job?” He unbuckled his seat belt and took her face in his hands. “Is that really all we have between us? A job?” 

Rebecca swallowed, nervous. She didn’t want to lie, not after everything. The intensity in his eyes scared her a little. So did the ache in her chest, the pounding of her heart. Gage was rapidly becoming extremely important to her. She didn’t know how to process all her emotions, but she was certain this thing with him was no longer only a job. 

“No,” she whispered.

He brushed his fingers gently across her cheek. “I . . .” Gage cleared his throat. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’m not sure I could stand it.”

His kiss was barely there. She kept trying to deepen it, but every time he’d pull back just enough to break the seal of their mouths then go back to the same gentle pressure. Eventually, she gave up and enjoyed what he was offering. 

Gage had been on the verge of telling her he loved her. It had been there, on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. After the day’s events, he needed to feel her, hold her, and make love to her. His biggest fear, even bigger than finding out his stalker had fixated on her, was that he would tell her how he felt and she would shut him out. 

After making a detour to drop the newest letter off to Hansen, he broke a few speed limits driving them home. They’d barely made it into the house before he swept her up in his arms and carried her upstairs. 

Their lovemaking was slow, deliberate. With every touch of his hands, every kiss of his lips he tried to convey his feelings for her. This wasn’t about sex. Not for him. This was about showing her what he couldn’t say. He only hoped she understood the message. 

It was after seven by the time they walked back downstairs, him in a pair of jeans and her in one of his T-shirts. He really liked seeing her in his shirt. Too bad she hadn’t forgone her panties as well. Although he’d tried to persuade her, she wouldn’t budge. He let it go but couldn’t completely dispel the vision he had in his head of her bent over the kitchen counter in nothing but his shirt. Just the thought had him ready to go again. 

He suppressed his urges and helped her make dinner. They sat together at the dining room table and ate. It was there he asked her about her meeting with Hansen earlier in the day.

“Was Hansen able to find anything out about the rental car that was following us?”

She took a bite before she answered. “The vehicle was registered under the name of Mark Fuller. He ran the license number and was able to compare it to the surveillance video from the rental location. They match, which is good, but as of yet, Hansen hasn’t been able to find a connection between you and Fuller.”

Gage racked his brain, but the name Mark Fuller didn’t ring any bells. 

“He was the guy following us?”

She shrugged. “That’s the assumption. At least until we have more information.”

He thought about that for a minute. “What happens now?”

“Hansen’s trying to track down the guy. He’s got some friends at the local police department, so he was able to put an APB out on him and the car since it still shows as rented to Fuller. He was also planning to swing by his residence today and see if he had any luck tracking him down. Hopefully, once we have him in custody, we’ll start getting some answers.”

They finished their meals, and retired upstairs to Gage’s bedroom. Slipping under the covers, he pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he asked if she’d like to watch a movie. She surprised him by suggesting a game of twenty questions instead. 

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.

“Red.”

“I’ve never seen you wear red.”

“Is that another question?” He chuckled.

She thought about it for a minute then sighed. “No.”

He smiled.

“What made you join the FBI?”

“There was a girl who went missing in my hometown when I was sixteen. She was about Megan’s age at the time, and I couldn’t imagine anything like that happening to my little sister and not being able to do anything about it. I knew right then that I wanted to be part of finding missing children.”

“Is that what you do mostly? Find missing kids?”

“Is that another question?” She smirked.

He laughed. 

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Then, yes. That’s mostly what I do. Sometimes I’m put on other assignments, but finding missing or abducted kids is what I enjoy doing. Even when the ending doesn’t turn out the way I hope, at least I can give their families some closure.”

He noticed a change in her as she spoke. “Did something happen?”

She rolled away from him, putting space between them for the first time since they’d climbed back into bed.

“Hey. Talk to me. What happened?” He moved behind her, gathering her back into his arms. Every muscle in her body was tense, and he was scared she was going to bolt.

“It was about two months ago,” she whispered.

He held her tighter, trying to comfort her, knowing whatever she was about to tell him was difficult for her.

“A six-year-old girl went missing. There was a custody dispute, and her father took her.”

She didn’t say anything for several minutes. “They called you in to find her?”

“Yes.”

Silence filled the room again as she gathered her thoughts. This time, he just lay there and let her think.

“We found her two states away in Georgia. Her father was wasted, empty whiskey bottles everywhere.” 

Her voice took on a dead quality that ran his blood cold. He could tell she was distancing herself, and something told him the worst part was yet to come.

“He wouldn’t let her go. I tried everything I could think of, but he wouldn’t release her. I had no choice . . .”

“You had no choice about what?” he prompted when she seemed to lose herself to her memories.

“He had a gun to her head, and I could tell he was going to pull the trigger. I had to shoot him first.”

Things began to make sense to him. She’d told him she was on leave from the FBI, which was why she’d taken the job to protect him. Given the time frame, he had to assume her leave was directly related to the shooting. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.

She didn’t respond.

He remained silent for a while, absorbing what she’d told him. Eventually, she broke the silence by asking him another question. This one about football. The emotionally charged conversation closed, at least for the time being. They lay there for the next several hours, questioning each other until they both began to yawn. He turned out the lights and drifted off to sleep, temporarily forgetting about the person threatening his happiness.

His phone ringing startled him awake the next morning. Turning over, he glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. He fumbled for the phone. “Hello?”

“Sorry to wake you, Gage, but I’m in the airport getting ready to fly out to Los Angeles. I wanted to catch you before I boarded the plane.”

“Yeah. Sure, Mel. What’s up?” Gage asked, trying to wake himself up. He needed some coffee.

Rebecca rolled over beside him. She looked a lot more alert than he felt. Her eyes questioned him, but she didn’t speak.

“The photographer from your underwear shoot called late last night. Apparently, there’s something wrong with some of the shots. He’s pushing to do a reshoot.”

Gage groaned. He’d hated that shoot the first time around. 

“When will you know?”

“My flight leaves in a half hour. I’m supposed to meet with him over lunch. I should know more then. How about you stop by my office tomorrow after practice? I should have all the details at that point and be able to tell you how we need to proceed. Hopefully, this is just an artist making a big fuss about nothing.”

“Okay,” Gage said. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”