“Caleb, I—” Her voice broke, so he saved her pride.
“Just hush and let me hold you a minute,” he told her. Her arms wrapped around him in a tentative hug, and then she gripped him hard as if afraid he’d let go.
He just held her, her lithe body pressed fuly against his from chest to knees. He felt the soft mounds of her breasts flatten against his ribs and the warm rush of her breath over his skin. Her mouth was nestled just above his heart, and he could hear low, fervent words spiling from her lips, even though he couldn’t kick his brain into functioning enough to understand them.
He bowed his head over hers, pressing his lips against the top of her head to mumble incoherent, soothing words into the silky strands. She smeled so good. And she was safe.
Lana shuddered against him as if soaking up his heat, and it was al Caleb could do not to pick her up and carry her off somewhere private where she could cry in peace while he held her.
She sniffed and puled away enough that there was room for air to swirl between their bodies. Sweat had gathered along Caleb’s ribs, and it cooled as it evaporated in the slow morning breeze.
Lana wiped her face with her hands and then wiped her hands on her thighs. Dried blood stained the skin between her fingers. Her nose was pink, and her blue eyes were luminous from her tears. Caleb just stared into her eyes, losing himself in their blue depths. It was like flying over a tropical ocean, seeing the varying shades of blue as the depth of the water changed. Her irises went from the palest silver blue near her pupils to a deep indigo around the rim. Her lashes were a thick black fringe that needed no help from cosmetics to add to their lushness.
Caleb realized he was stil holding her. He took a deep breath and puled his hands away quickly, like ripping a bandage off of hairy skin. Not touching her hurt a hel of a lot worse, though.
She gathered herself, and Caleb began to realize they had an audience. Mostly men.
Caleb stripped his shirt off and puled it over Lana’s head to cover her breasts. As lovely as the sight was, he didn’t like sharing it with the other officers present.
She snaked her arms through the sleeves. “Thanks. I had to use my shirt as a bandage. There was so much blood.” Her voice broke, but she held together.
Caleb’s gut twisted at the pain vibrating in her tone. He puled her back up against him, unable to let her stand there and hurt without offering his comfort. His touch. Lana didn’t resist, and he knew then just how desperate she had to be if she was wiling to take comfort from him.
“We’re not finished interviewing Miss Hancock,” said a detective, whose role was given away by his inexpensive suit and tie. His hazel eyes roamed over Caleb as if categorizing him in an instant. He had a muscular build and the kind of posture that told Caleb he knew how to use it. The name on his badge read Jacob Hart.
“I told you everything I know,” she said as if she’d already repeated it twenty times. “I came in, saw the place was a wreck, heard Stacie in the bathroom, then . . .” Her voice broke again, but she puled in a deep breath and continued on. “I caled nine-one-one, and then you showed up.”
“Did Stacie say anything?” asked the detective.
“Just something about how she would have let him take whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to shoot her.” She turned to Caleb. “Someone shot Stacie.”
Caleb smoothed a hand over her shiny brown hair. “I know, honey. It’s going to be okay.”
“I should have been there earlier.”
“You couldn’t have stopped him, either, Lana.”
“No, but if I’d shown up earlier—”
“Then you’d be the one lying on that gurney right now, miss,” said Detective Hart, gently.
Lana’s eyes darted toward the concrete, but not before Caleb could read the thought that passed through them—one that he’d had a thousand times while sitting next to Lana’s hospital bed. She would have done anything to trade places with Stacie.
“I need to go to the hospital,” she said.
“Of course, but we have just a few more questions,” said the detective.
Caleb felt Lana’s body tighten, and the urge to protect her—even from a few questions—was overwhelming.
“That’s enough questions for now,” stated Caleb in the voice he used to command other men.
“I’m afraid we have to go over this just one more time,” said the detective, unfazed.
Caleb took a step forward and put on his intimidation face. He didn’t use it often, since his size was usualy more than enough to get nearly anyone to cooperate, but on the rare occasions that he needed to, he knew how to make another man back down. This was just one of those occasions.
He gave the detective a smile that was mostly just a baring of teeth and dropped his voice until the detective had to strain to hear him. “I’m taking Lana to the hospital to check on her friend. You may speak to her later today, if she’s up to it. If not, she’l talk with you again tomorrow.”
The detective’s eyes slid to the dog tags hanging over Caleb’s bare chest, then to the tattoo on his arm. “Active duty?” he asked.
“I’m on leave,” he lied.
A flash of keen inteligence lit up Detective Hart’s eyes. “You’re both free to go as long as you stay in town. We’l finish here and let you know when you’re alowed back in the building.”
“Thank you,” said Lana.
Caleb was pretty sure that thanking him was a bit premature. Whatever Detective Hart was, he wasn’t stupid, and he was letting them go, which meant he had another plan for getting the information he wanted.
Uploaded by Coral
CHAPTER SIX
Jacob Hart wrote down the name and number he’d read off Caleb’s dog tags. He stil had a few buddies in the army that could help him use that bit of information to figure out who this giant was. His gut told him that he had nothing to do with the shooting this morning, but it also told him that something more was going on here than just a simple robbery gone bad.
Nothing of value had been touched. The little metal box containing a few bucks of petty cash was sitting out in plain sight. The CD player by the coffee pot was untouched, as was the MP3 player on one of the desks. The only thing that had been rummaged through was paperwork, and something about that nagged at him.
Jacob went back into the office, careful not to get in the way of the officers and techs colecting evidence. One of the men was sawing away a section of drywal to retrieve the spent round. With any luck, it would be in good enough shape for a balistics match—assuming they had anything to match it to.
Jacob let his vision blur and just stared at the scene. White paper nearly carpeted the floor. It was everywhere. On each of the two desks was a stack of spiral notebooks.
Why were they stil stacked when everything else was a mess? Had the ladies who worked here left them like that?
Jacob wrote down the question so he’d remember to ask it later.
“Hey, Jacob,” said one of the uniformed officers. “Found something.”
Jacob crossed the room, trying not to step on any of the trash. “What?”
The officer held up a little bit of plastic and metal. It almost looked like a broken piece of circuitry from the inside of a computer or something. It was thin, black, and no larger than the tip of his little finger. Jacob snapped on a rubber glove and took the tiny thing. A slim, short wire poked out of the back, and next to it was a thin adhesive pad.
“Where did you find it?”
The officer motioned to the picture hanging behind the coffee pot. It was one of those cheesy motivational posters that offices everywhere used. This one showed a picture of an astronaut floating in space high above the earth, al alone. The caption read, “Courage.”
“On the poster?” asked Jacob.
“On the frame, along the top.”
Where it wouldn’t be noticed. Jacob took another look at the device and suddenly knew what it was. A listening device.
Interesting.
Lana hated hospitals. They made her want to curl up into herself, or run away or throw up, or maybe al three at the same time. The sterile stink burned her nose, but she ignored it. Stacie had been taken into surgery immediately upon her arrival. That had been three hours earlier, and Lana was wearing a hole in the carpet of the waiting area.
Caleb had disappeared a few minutes ago and Lana tried not to freak out. Ever since she’d seen him walking toward her this morning, belowing her name like he was afraid something had happened to her, Lana had been grateful that he’d come barging back into her life. She couldn’t stand the thought of facing this alone, and there was no way she was going to cal her family. Not after what had happened to Stacie. Caleb’s arrival being folowed closely by the shooting couldn’t be a coincidence. Whoever had escaped Caleb’s men in Armenia had found her. It was safest if she kept as much distance as possible between herself and everyone she loved.
Caleb came back bearing a steaming cup of coffee and some cheese crackers from the vending machine. He didn’t bother to try to make her sit down or be calm like her mother would have. He let her walk out her worry and frustration without scolding her for fidgeting.
Lana took the coffee but turned down the crackers. “Thanks.”
“Is there something I can get you to eat? Worry and coffee on an empty stomach aren’t such a good thing.”
“Maybe in a little while.”
Caleb nodded. He didn’t ask her any stupid questions like whether she was okay. He just stayed there, silent and strong, ready to support her in any way she wanted.
It was such a precious gift it nearly made her start crying again.
He didn’t know her, but he seemed to somehow know just what she needed. Then again, in his line of work, maybe this was normal for him.
On the way to the hospital, he’d puled a clean shirt from the luggage in his car and covered his bare chest. She stil wore his old shirt, which hung loosely on her but kept her from causing a scandal in the gift shop. The scent of his skin was with her constantly now, somehow helping to ease some of her tension.
He sat down to watch her pace, and after a few minutes, finaly, Lana felt like resting herself. She sat down next to him and sipped her coffee. Caleb’s arm draped over the back of her chair without touching her—offering support without forcing it on her. She could lean back and let him touch her or stay upright and know he wouldn’t push.
She wanted to lean back into his embrace, and she didn’t even care that it made her weak to need his touch. She was at her limit and would do whatever it took to be strong for Stacie, even if it meant taking comfort from a man she should have distanced herself from.
They sat in silence, his strong arm so near, her body frozen in indecision. He didn’t ask anything of her, nor did he try to push her. He let her take what she needed.
“Oh, my God!” wailed a voice that made Lana flinch. She turned to see who had just walked into the waiting room, praying it was someone else’s mother.
No such luck.
Madeline Hancock raced across the room, streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Her dark hair was just starting to turn noticeably gray, and even though she was past fifty, she had the skin of a woman half her age. Madeline was a crier. She always had been, and every time Lana cried, she knew she took one step closer to becoming just like her mother. It was enough to make Lana want to have her tear ducts surgicaly closed.
