Cody, J.J. and his now two-person team piled into the SUV later that night and headed north, to the only safe house he could find on short notice.
It was a small homestead on the south edge of the Lucky 7. It had been built in the late 1960s for a longtime employee of the Landry family. It was the kind of thing his folks had done, Cody thought with a renewed pang of melancholy—reward loyalty.
Shane was waiting for them, his brow beaded with sweat, leaning against the handle of the snow shovel he’d used to clear the walkway.
“How’s the girl—Lara?”
“She’ll be fine, just out of commission for a few days,” Cody replied as he slung his bag over his shoulder and led the group to the modest building. “Thanks for your help on this.”
“Don’t thank him. He actually did very little,” Taylor announced as she came out the front door, tugging a large sweater over her shoulders. “I’ve stocked the fridge and there’s some stew heating on the stove. Rolls are in the oven.”
“Three hours of manual labor and I got nothing. Squat. Nada,” Shane griped. “Not even water.”
“Show some initiative, Shane. If you were thirsty, you could have sucked on snow,” she remarked as she jabbed at his ribs before bounding down the steps.
“She’s always hitting me.”
“Remind you of old times?”
“Yeah. Tortured by brothers as a child and now I’m stuck with Taylor the Terrible.”
Cody grinned and patted his brother’s shoulder. “Be brave.”
Digging into the front pocket of his jeans, Shane just grunted as he withdrew his keys, then walked to the truck parked off to the side. It was equipped with a plow, a necessity for Montana winters. Before getting into the cab, he called out, “You be safe.”
Let’s hope. Cody ushered everyone inside. Unlike the Simms farm house, this was a small, two-room structure. He guessed the lingering scent of cleaning solution was courtesy of Taylor, as was the mouthwatering smell of the stew simmering on the stove.
The living room—kitchen combo featured a dinette set, chair, coffee table, tattered plaid sofa and a television that looked like it belonged in the Smithsonian. Predictably, Martin honed in on that fact.
The adjoining bedroom had either twin beds or two cots, depending on a person’s level of optimism. The bathroom was little larger than a closet—shower, toilet and a small sink with the enamel chipped along the edge.
“Sorry,” he said as he moved behind J.J, who seemed to be taking everything in.
She shrugged. “I’ve been in worse. It has running water and it’s warm. All a girl needs for a decent night’s sleep.”
“All a prairie girl needs,” Denise griped. “Jeez, Landry, couldn’t we drive to a motel or something?”
“This is the place,” he announced in his best command voice. “Make the best of it.”
They ate in relative silence, then decided on the shifts for what was left of the night. Martin stretched out on the sofa. J.J. and Denise took the bedroom. Cody was too wired to sleep. Taking a mug of coffee, he grabbed his coat and went out onto the porch.
The sky twinkled with stars for as far as the eye could see. It reminded him of his childhood when he and his brothers would play a version of connect-the-dots with the stars. He sighed and dumped the cold remains of the coffee onto the snow below the railing. That memory seemed like a lifetime ago.
Hearing a creak behind him, he spun, and had his gun out and pointed at J.J.’s surprised expression. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a person.”
“Sorry,” she said, arms raised as far as the blanket wrapped around her shoulders would allow. “I can’t sleep.”
“You should. You need your rest.”
Well, that ship pretty much sailed when I started to replay our kiss over and over. “I’ve been thinking,” she began as she moved beside him, careful to make sure her body didn’t touch his.
“Is that a positive or negative thing?”
She smiled and felt some of the tension in her muscles relax. “A productive thing.” Leaning against the weatherworn rail, she gazed up at the millions of stars and quietly marveled at their beauty. Crisp air filled her lungs, condensing into a faint white stream with each exhale. “Something isn’t right around here.”
“Took an explosion for you to get that, did it?”
She liked the sound of his teasing voice. It was a deep, resonant sound that had the ability to melt her defenses. “What you said at the hospital was true.”
He inched closer. “That I could make you beg?”
Soft laughter spilled from her lips. “Focus, Landry. I’m trying to tell you that I agree we shouldn’t be enemies.” She felt his eyes on her even before she turned to look up at him.
By moonlight, he was even more devastatingly handsome. By moonlight with a relaxed grin, he was downright heart-stopping. It was probably below freezing, but having Cody smile down at her warmed her from the inside out.
“So what should we be?” he asked, reaching out and brushing a few strands of hair from her face.
J.J. reveled in the feel of his large fingers against her skin and struggled to keep from leaning into his touch. The memory of his kiss was fresh in her mind. Well, not just her mind. He was imprinted on her cells. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t long to be in his arms. To pick up where they’d left off. Focus, Barnes!
“Partners,” she explained, watching as her proposal caused undeniable hesitation. “Hear me out.”
“There are no partners between a marshal and a protectee, J.J. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Silent partners, then,” she corrected. “Listen, Cody, please?” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “You aren’t going to like this.”
“I already don’t like it,” he retorted wryly.
“I’m more than your protectee.”
“That was clear when we kissed.”
Okay, so he was going to make this as difficult as possible. Great. She tilted her head back and glared up at him. “Forget the kiss for now. This isn’t easy for me and you’re making it even harder.”
He had the good sense to look apologetic. “Go ahead. According to you, you’re more than my protectee, and…”
Why did he have to be cute and annoying all at the same time? “The Visnopov thing taught me an important lesson.”
“Which was?”
“I didn’t alert any backup that night.”
“Not too smart.”
“So, the best way to flush out the leak is to work together on—”
His whole demeanor changed. “When I agreed that the explosion at the Simms place might be an inside job, I meant inside on your end, not mine.”
“My end? That doesn’t make sense, Landry. The FBI needs me to make the Visnopov case.”
“So does the Marshal Service.”
Planting her feet slightly apart, she felt irritation rushing though her veins. “Really?” she began, ticking things off on her fingers. “Then how is it your team has lost three witnesses? Allowed me to be shot at and had one of your own nearly blown to bits?” Sensing that her logic had tempered his simmering anger, she continued. “I’m putting myself out here, Landry. I should be reporting that you’re the most likely leak, but instead I’m hoping we can work this through together. Find out who the turncoat is and make sure they suffer dearly for switching sides.”
“There’s a flaw in your theory, Barnes.”
“Really?”
“It assumes that I agree with your assessment that one of my team members is the leak.”
“Maybe not,” she relented. It was a debate tactic since she did believe it was one of them. “What if it’s someone higher up? Maybe one of the suits in D.C. is selling you out?”
“Besides me there are only three people who know the logistics on any given assignment,” he explained. “And I’d trust all of them with my life.”
“Good for you,” she shot back, “but it’s my life we’re talking about. And I’m not quite as willing to blindly trust anyone who has the ability to get me killed.”
“What is it you want from me?” he asked.
“An open mind, Landry. Let me do a little digging and then we’ll talk again. I’ll need access to Marshal Service files. Unfettered access.”
“You won’t find anything.”
Smiling sweetly, she said, “Then think how much fun you’ll have gloating at my folly.”
“I’M ON IT,” Denise said, not bothering to hide the fact that she was thrilled with her assignment. “What’s the radius?”
Cody leaned back in the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Twenty miles or less. Go into town and stop by Seth’s office. He’s got a list of possible locations we can use for our next safe house.”
J.J. noticed the way his biceps strained against his shirt even though she was supposed to be focusing on the morning briefing.
“Martin, a rental car is coming in about an hour. Head up to the crime lab in Helena and get them moving on the forensics from the shooting and the explosion.”
“Doesn’t that leave us stuck here with no transportation?” J.J. asked, treading that fine line between challenging him and letting him know she didn’t want to be stranded at the deserted cabin.
“You’re not part of this discussion, Barnes.”
Cody’s dismissive tone grated. J.J. stood and marched into the bedroom, slamming the door for effect. Apparently their late night tête-à-tête hadn’t done much good. So much for extending olive branches to the bullheaded jerk.
After locking the door, she pulled out her cell phone and found she had a message waiting.
SELZNICK, LARA. BACKGROUND, CLEAR. HOWARD, DENISE. BACKGROUND, CLEAR. LANDRY, CODY. BACKGROUND, CLEAR. NEWELL, MARTIN. BACKGROUND, CLEAR.
“Thanks for that useless info dump,” she grumbled as she formulated her reply.
Request forward of actual information. Barnes out.
Something wasn’t right. Her boss had been downright chatty for days, then this. It didn’t make any sense. “Why no information on the P.I. firm?” she whispered, checking the text function to see if perhaps she’d missed a transmission. Nothing. This text messaging wasn’t immediate enough. First chance she got, J.J. was going to call Associate Director Andrews.
A series of knocks on the door sent her scurrying to tuck the cell phone into her sock.
“J.J.?”
Taking a deep, calming breath before opening the door, she felt ready to confront Cody. “Yes?” she asked in a clipped tone, refusing to open the door more than a crack.
“We’ve got to get going.”
“Going where? You dispatched our only means of transportation,” she reminded him, making a point of exaggerating her sarcasm.
He let out an annoyed breath as he shoved open the door and tossed her coat at her. “Give me some credit, Barnes. Let’s go.”
Waiting out front was a black Hummer with the engine running. “Where’d you get this?”
“One of the perks of having more brothers than a fraternity house,” he quipped as he slipped behind the wheel.
“Where are we going?”
“Off road,” he answered as he shifted the gigantic vehicle into four-wheel drive.
Gripping the dashboard, J.J. lurched from side to side as Cody followed some secret road heading north. “Are the highways closed?”
“Nope.” He continued to spin the steering wheel as he negotiated the seemingly impassable terrain. “The back way is quicker.”
“The back way to what, exactly?”
“The ranch.”
“As in your family ranch? That isn’t a good idea, Cody. What if something happens and—”
“The place is empty. Molly and Chandler asked everyone in the family to be at the church today for a run-through. It wasn’t available tomorrow, so it was moved up.”
She smiled. “It’s called a rehearsal. Why aren’t you there?”
He shrugged. “Much to my future sister-in-law’s chagrin, I explained that I am perfectly capable of ushering women to their seats even without several hours of practice.”
“But this is a family thing. You don’t want to make them mad, do you?”
“They’ll get over it,” he insisted. “The house has everything we need to access the information you seem to think will hang one of my team members. I figure it will be easier on me to let you get this theory out of your system.”
“That was pretty patronizing,” she said. She would have said more, but she was distracted by the sight of the house coming into view.
A sprawling clapboard home rivaled the beauty and majesty of the mountains in the distance. Cody veered to the right, driving along a fence line that seemed to go on endlessly. Twisting in her seat, she kept the house in sight. Awestruck, she couldn’t imagine actually living in a place like this.
The Hummer cleared the arched iron sign with the Lucky 7 logo, putting them on the slippery gravel driveway that formed a horseshoe at the base of a half-story staircase leading to a broad, wraparound porch.
Beyond the house were corrals, barns and other buildings she couldn’t identify by name, thanks to her limited knowledge of ranch life.
“Wow.”
Cody looked over and seemed amused by her reaction. “Welcome to the Lucky 7.”
Stepping out of the car, she tilted her head back and took in the grandeur of the place. “It looks more like a bed-and-breakfast than a home.”
“It is more of a bed-and-breakfast,” he joked, taking her hand and leading her up the steps. “I’ll give you a quick tour before we get to work.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m impressed. Are the Landrys the Trumps of the west?”
“Hardly.”
Shoving one of the double doors open, Cody dropped her hand, stepped aside and allowed her to enter the house first.
“Wow.”
“This,” he began, “is the foyer. Perfectly designed for a game of sock hockey.”
J.J. smiled, imagining Cody and his brothers sliding up and down the hardwood floors. “I’m sure your parents must have loved that.”
“They didn’t mind.”
She glanced questioningly at him.
He shrugged, adding, “They believed a house should be lived in. So long as we stayed out of the sacred rooms, we pretty much had the run of the place.”
“Sacred rooms?”
“Pop’s office, mom’s parlor and the master bedroom.”
“Got it,” J.J. said, distracted by the antique light fixture overhead. “Tiffany?”
“Handel,” he corrected. “Tiffany Lite. Or so I’m told. First floor or second floor?”
Spying the carved mahogany staircase, she pointed in its direction. “Wow,” she repeated as they climbed the steps toward the picture window with the unobstructed view of the Rockies.
“Your college education isn’t showing right now, Barnes.”
“My modest beginnings are,” she readily admitted. “I grew up in a tiny apartment in Atlanta. The closest I ever came to a house like this was a class field trip. Even then, we were kept behind ropes and only allowed to look.” Spotting the elegant master bedroom after they’d reached the second floor, she again whispered, “Wow. It’s immaculate. Taylor’s doing, I’m guessing?”
“Partly,” he answered, his eyes suddenly clouded with emotion. “A lot of us still think of it as our folks’ room.”
He hurried her down the hallway. “This mess belongs to Shane.”
J.J. fought back a laugh. “Everything else is so neat. Why does this room look like it hasn’t been cleaned?”
“Standoff. From what I’ve been able to pick up here and there, Taylor refuses to do anything for Shane until he apologizes.”
“For what?”
“Who knows?”
He moved on, showing her no fewer than six bedrooms and four bathrooms. Each room had an individual personality. Some feminine, some decidedly masculine. One was an adorable nursery, decorated with bunnies and birds in soft pastels. J.J. stopped in the doorway of the nursery, trying to make sense of the sudden rush of strong emotion.
“Sam and Callie are moving out as soon as their place is—”
J.J. barely heard him. She just knew that her chest was tight and a huge lump threatened to choke off her air. Pivoting on her heel, she pushed past him and raced down the stairs.
“J.J.?”
Cody could have kicked himself, but he was in too much of a rush to catch up with her. She must think he was an insensitive jerk.
Reaching her on the next to last step, he grasped her shoulders and turned her into him. She was stiff in his arms as her forehead rested against his shoulder.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said without lifting her head.
Cody stroked her hair. He was completely unsure of the right thing to say or do. Helpless wasn’t a feeling he knew well.
“You probably need more time.” He shifted her so that her cheek was against his chest. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said as she flattened her palm against his chest. “The kicker is, I’ve always dismissed the whole motherhood thing. It was something I figured I’d deal with off in the future.”
He felt anger surge through him and he struggled to keep the emotion out of his tone. “I’m sorry about what happened, J.J.”
“I’m not,” she said softly. Moving out of his embrace, she looked up at him. “What kind of person does that make me?” she asked as he watched conflict play across her face. “What kind of woman is relieved because she isn’t sure she could have loved her own child?”
Gently he placed his hands against her cheeks. “Any woman faced with having a child as a result of a rape. Don’t let yourself think anything different. Okay?”
She took a deep breath and attempted a halfhearted smile. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” he joked, hoping to lighten her spirits. “If and when you decide to have a child, it will be your decision and you’ll celebrate it.”
One pale brow arched high on her forehead. “You’re some kind of expert on children? Last time I looked, you didn’t have any.”
“I’m pacing myself,” he joked, glad to see the haunted look gone from her pretty eyes. “I’ll make some coffee and then we can get to work.”
“I’ll make the coffee,” she insisted, as she followed him into the kitchen.
“Are you mocking my coffee?”
“Pretty much,” she said as she accepted a canister and a filter from him. “You and your team make tar. You must have stomachs lined with lead.”
“That’s pretty harsh, Barnes,” he said, secretly agreeing with her.
Cody took a seat and found himself enjoying the sight of J.J. working in the kitchen. Or more accurately, he was enjoying the unobstructed view of her perfectly shaped derriere. Sculpted by formfitting jeans, her body was a true thing of beauty. Tiny waist, slender hips, legs that seemed to go on forever. He couldn’t find a single flaw as he watched her move around.
Not that he was really looking for one. Not by a long shot. The more time he spent with J.J., the more he liked and respected her. Maybe his initial assessment of her had been a little harsh. Maybe.
MAKING COFFEE gave J.J. some time to regroup. She’d gone into this mission with a singular goal—find the leak.
She’d also gone into this mission thinking Cody was nothing more than a sexist jerk. Well, she hadn’t found the leak and Cody Landry, it turned out, could be a pretty decent guy. Hardly a report she could send to the associate director of the FBI. How did this get so muddled?
Illogical as it sounded, she’d dismissed Cody as a prime suspect on nothing more substantive than her gut reaction. Her boss hadn’t exactly been supplying her with a wealth of information. So, after a week in Jasper, she was no closer to finding out who was responsible for the deaths of the three witnesses.
She was climbing out on the tip of a very tenuous branch. Trusting Cody—even just a little—could be a fatal mistake. However, with little to no information coming from her superiors, she didn’t really have a choice.
Keeping her back to him, she tried to sound casual when she said, “I’ve always tried to do my job by the book.”
“I got that from day one. And from everything I know, you adhere to that philosophy.”
Turning, she met his clear, attentive gaze. “Then you’ll appreciate how hard this is for me.”
Stretching out his legs, he crossed them at the ankles, then said, “Shoot.”
“When I suggested we become partners, I didn’t tell you everything.”
She saw something flash in his dark eyes. “Really?”
“But before I say anything else, I need a good faith thing from you.”
“Such as?”
“The card in your room. Why did you write the date of my attack on the back?”
“I didn’t.”
She felt her stomach drop. She’d hoped for honesty, needed it if she was going to be completely truthful with him. Well, so much for that.
“Okay.” She turned back to the coffeepot and listened to it sputter.
“It wasn’t the date of your attack.”
She rolled her eyes and willed her temper into check. “I may not remember much about the incident, Landry, but I do recall the date.”
“Which just happens to be the same date my parents left. I was scribbling when I talked to the guy on the phone.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes, if I have to. Do I?”
She thought for a long moment. “Yes.”
Cody left the kitchen, then returned a few minutes later with a yellowed newspaper clipping that he shoved under her nose. It confirmed that the senior Landrys hadn’t been seen since the night of October 10. Same date. Different year.
Deliberately she turned and met his hostile glare. “Sorry, but I needed that.”
“I didn’t.”
Okay, I deserved that. “Now I’ll tell you the real reason I’m here. I wasn’t just sent here for you to protect me. The FBI is convinced that you or one of your team members is in the Visnopovs’ pocket.”
He moved to within inches of her. “What about you? Do you think one of us is on the take?”
Swallowing the rush of fear, she held his piercing gaze and said, “Yes, I agree with that assessment.”