Like two conspirators, Cody and J.J. placed their ears to the wall and listened to the snippets of harsh, one-sided conversation.
J.J. was having trouble hearing it all. Not because Lara’s voice didn’t carry, but because her heartbeat was still pounding in her ears. Her legs weren’t all that steady, either. A Cody Landry kiss had the power to melt bone.
“This is ridiculous,” Cody grumbled, taking her hand and pulling her toward the door.
“Hang on,” J.J. insisted, stopping him. “Let me go in alone.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re her boss. She might be more open with me. If I bomb, you can go in and do your thing.”
“Good cop, bad cop?” he teased.
“More like girl cop, boy cop,” she corrected, getting on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his lips. She patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, Landry, she’s got a broken collarbone and even if she didn’t, I could still take her.”
He made a production out of rubbing his back. “I remember.”
“Wuss…ouch!” she yelped when his hand made solid contact with her rear end.
As she suspected, the second she entered Lara’s room, the marshal slammed the telephone receiver back on its cradle. “Barnes?” she greeted nervously.
After calmly closing the door, J.J. moved into the sparse room and pulled one of the twin Naugahyde chairs close to the edge of the bed. Apparently foregoing the hospital issue gown, Lara was wearing a navy blue T-shirt with the Marshal Service’s emblem on the breast pocket and a pair of shorts. Her left arm was in a sling and her short-cropped hair was a spiky, disorganized mess.
“How are you?” J.J. asked, sitting down.
“Ready to leave. How’s Martin?”
“News travels fast, huh?”
“How is he?” Lara repeated, her expression as guarded as her tone.
“Concussion and a cut on his head. Cody is waiting for him to get settled in his room, so I thought I’d drop by and say hello. I’m glad to see you’re doing okay and really glad that Martin wasn’t more seriously hurt.”
“How’d it happen?”
J.J. suspected that Lara knew exactly what had transpired. But she played along by retelling the story. “I’m sure he’ll be in to visit as soon as they get him all settled in his room.”
“Maybe. I’m glad he wasn’t hurt. We don’t need anyone else out of commission right now.”
“True. But it will be nice for you to have some company, won’t it?” J.J. asked.
“I’m not planning on staying that long. I was supposed to be out by now, but apparently Cody put a hold on my release.”
Really? Another detail he forgot to mention. “I’m sure he’s just thinking of what is in your best interest.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Lara fairly sneered. “But he’s in charge, so that’s the way it goes. Like it or not.”
“It’s frustrating being sidelined,” she commiserated. “After my surgery, I had nearly two months of inactivity. Made me crazy.”
Lara seemed to relax a bit. “That was a tough break.”
“Sure was. It’s put a crimp in my career, too. It doesn’t do much for one’s self-confidence to realize no one trusts you.”
“Forget trust, Barnes. I’m still working on respect.”
“That took me some time,” J.J. agreed, settling back into the chair. “I had to work twice as hard to get half the respect of my male counterparts.”
“Which is total crap,” Lara scoffed, rubbing her disheveled hair. “You didn’t blow the Visnopov case.”
“No. But once the U.S. Attorney executed the warrants, my cover was blown.”
“They left you out in the field to get your ass kicked.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t part of the plan.” J.J. wasn’t feeding Lara a line; she really did believe that her beating was an unavoidably poor turn of events. “My boss knew how close I was to getting solid proof against Visnopov. We took every possible precaution. Including getting some of the key players into protective custody while I was still on the inside.”
Lara’s eyes narrowed and her hands balled into tight fists. “We did everything possible to keep those guys safe.”
“I know,” J.J. insisted, hoping to diffuse Lara’s defensiveness. “The Russians are good. We thought we’d covered our tracks before turning the witnesses over to you. The first witness…Basniak…we rigged it so it appeared he had a heart attack right in front of Visnopov’s top lieutenant. We went so far as to have agents dressed as paramedics come and perform CPR. Thought it worked. Did similar stuff to extract the other two. Elaborate and fail-safe—or so we thought.”
“I swear, Barnes, we did everything by the book.” Lara’s tone indicated only that she took the failures personally.
Either she was one hell of an actress, or she wasn’t involved in getting the witnesses killed. Still, J.J.’s gut was insisting there was something going on with the young woman. How to get it out of her? There was always the direct approach. “So, who were you yelling at?”
Lara’s eyes darted from the phone, to a pad on the bedside table, then back to J.J. “It was official business,” she hedged. “Privileged, Barnes. You know the drill.”
J.J. nodded and got to her feet. “I’ll see what I can do about getting Cody to lift your sentence.” And get my hands on whatever is on that pad that you don’t want me to see.
“J.J. headed for the door.
“Barnes?”
There was something tentative in the way Lara had said her name. Thinking she might be ready to share something, J.J. didn’t risk turning around and spooking her. “Yes?”
“Don’t make it harder for the rest of us.”
“Meaning?”
“Cody’s already distracted by his family stuff. He needs to be sharp right now. That won’t happen if he’s sleeping with you.”
J.J. took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “He isn’t.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
As if I have a choice.
“I NEVER SAW IT coming,” Martin said, shaking his head and wincing from the action.
Lacing his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in the chair, Cody regarded his longtime friend and felt a certain amount of guilt well up inside of him. This was his operation and, to date, two of his deputies had been hospitalized. Not exactly a stellar record.
“Must have whacked the steering wheel when I spun into the ditch,” Martin continued. “All I know is that when I opened the car door, wham! Whoever hit me had a helluva arm. I must have crawled out into the snow, ’cause that’s the next clear memory I have.”
“You didn’t see anyone along the road?”
“Not before, during or after.”
“Think back, Martin. Maybe you saw a shadow, anything that might give us a place to start?”
He shrugged and offered an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, my friend. The only clear image in my head is seeing those ugly fake fur boots Denise wears. But that was after I was hit, right? No help there.”
Cody rose and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Get some rest tonight. Lara is right next door.”
Martin’s brow furrowed. “I thought she was getting out today.”
“I want her here to keep an eye on you.”
“What about Barnes? Doesn’t that leave you short?”
“May not be by the book, but I do have a whole posse of Landrys I can call into service if need be.”
“Are you going back to the cabin?”
Cody shook his head. “Time to move again.”
“Why?” Martin pressed. “Have you forgotten the purpose of this assignment? We’re supposed to let them find her.”
Cody felt physically ill as he headed out the door.
“…again, Miss, we don’t straighten rooms. That’s the job of the custodial staff.” The nurse, whose sweater he’d used as an eraser, was talking with J.J. in the hallway in a particularly affronted tone.
“Problem?” he asked, moving to J.J.’s side and placing a hand at the small of her back.
J.J. glanced up at him and explained, “All I want her to do is take fresh water into Lara’s room, pretend to be tidying up and replace the notepad on the table.”
“Because?”
“Because there’s something on that pad that made her pretty nervous.”
Cody looked at the nurse and said, “Do it, please.”
Nurse Nose-Out-of-Joint complied, gathering up a few props before her rubber-soled, bright-white shoes squished as she went on her assigned task.
Turning and resting his elbows against the desktop, Cody replayed the conversation with Martin in his head. It was looking like Denise just might be a leak. As much as it pained him to believe it, the evidence—circumstantial to be sure—was mounting.
“Who kicked your dog?” J.J. challenged.
Glancing over, he saw fire in her aqua gaze. Probably not a good sign. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” J.J. leaned toward him, her eyes glistening “—that you’ve been keeping secrets, Landry.”
His heart stopped. She knew. “I can explain.”
“Start now,” she insisted. “Explain why you arranged for Lara to stay in the hospital. If you were having doubts about her, explain why you didn’t share them with me.” She paused only long enough to rake her fingers through her hair. “Then explain to me why you didn’t think you could trust me with your suspicions.”
She didn’t know.
Yet.
It was only a matter of time. That much was clear. Hopefully if they found the leak—even if it turned out to be one of his own—he’d never have to own up to being complicit in putting her in danger.
“It was a snap judgment,” he defended. “With Martin and Lara here at the hospital, we can put the full court press on Denise.”
She easily accepted his explanation and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He wasn’t sure of a whole hell of a lot just now. He only knew that he had her trust, and had done nothing to earn it. Not a pretty place to be.
“Here,” the nurse said on her return, slapping a blank pad on the counter. “Will there be anything else?”
“No,” Cody answered for them both, swiping up the item and retrieving their coats before leading J.J. down to the doctor’s lounge on the first floor.
As soon as they were inside the deserted lounge, J.J. grabbed the pad from him as if she was retrieving a prize.
“It’s blank,” he offered.
“Not a problem,” she assured him as she went to the cluttered desk and grabbed a pencil. “A little game of Secret Code and we’ll be good to go.”
He watched patiently as she moved the lead across the paper until the imprint of Lara’s handwriting was perfectly legible. “CLS,” J.J. read, then presented the pad to him. “Mean anything?”
He looked at the letters, which were scribbled over and over again, followed by a phone number. He shook his head. “But then again, my cryptanalytic skills are a little rusty.”
“I can call Stephenson and have—”
“I’m on it.” He grabbed his cell, dialed the Marshal Service and gave them the number. “Done. Now what?”
“We need a computer. Let’s Google the letters and see what happens.”
“That’s a high security approach,” he joked.
“I’ll text message my boss—at the correct number—and see if the cipher guys can make something of the letters.”
She started toward the door but he caught her arm. “We’ve got a more immediate problem. You’re a target and I’m running out of safe places.”
“I’m a federal agent, Cody. Stop treating me like some civilian. I want your help more than I need your protection. I’m capable and I’m armed. So can you please work with me on this?”
“I’ve got orders, J.J.”
She rolled her eyes. “So do I. Mine are to find the leak, which I can do with or without your help. Your call.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Denise can wait. She’s back at the cabin at the Lucky 7, right?”
He nodded. “I’ll have Seth put a deputy on her—do the occasional drive-by just to make sure she stays put.” He took out his phone and made the call. “Anything else?” he asked, the cell still at his ear.
“I’ll have the FBI put a tap on Lara’s and Martin’s phones here at the hospital. I want to know if they so much as order a pizza.”
“Lara, maybe. But Martin? Why is he still on your radar?” He didn’t dare risk the FBI reporting back to her that one of Martin’s responsibilities was to make sure the Visnopov people had a general idea of where the marshal service was hiding their target.
Sighing, she relented. “Okay, just Lara. For now.”
Once she had made her calls, and he’d finished his, Cody asked, “Any computer will do, right?”
“So long as it has Internet. DSL would be great. A wireless mouse, voice recognition.”
He smiled. “A girl who likes toys, eh?”
“A woman who likes toys,” she quipped.
It suddenly occurred to him that the J.J. Barnes who’d stepped off the plane less than ten days ago would have bitten his head off for that remark. And lectured him on the sexist nature of his comment. Quietly he regarded her for a long moment, really seeing her now that her protective shield of aggression was down.
At first, he’d only seen her physical beauty. Now he knew there was much, much more. This complex woman was stronger than most men, resilient as hell, driven and…fun. That was the kicker. That was what he hadn’t expected. That was why he was falling in love with her.
Oh God! Could my timing be any worse?
“Are we going somewhere or what?” J.J. impatiently held the door handle, knowing full well he’d want to do his protective survey before they left the hospital.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, as if her question required advanced math. “My brother’s office.”
“Seth?”
“Sam.”
She grunted frustration as she followed him out the door. “I can’t keep all these Landrys straight. It would be easier for me if we just assigned everyone a letter or a number. You know, brother A, brother B, etc. etc.”
“You’ll get it eventually,” he promised with a chuckle. “We all have different personalities. After tomorrow’s breakfast, you’ll have everyone down pat.”
“Not unless they wear name tags.”
Cold, damp air slapped her as she stepped out of the overly warm building. Impossible as it seemed, the snow was still falling, creating huge drifts that had already swallowed many of the cars in the lot.
Two plows were operating over in the visitors’ lot, trying to keep a channel open. The stench of diesel fuel spoiled the clean scent of the new snow.
“This is a real pain,” she grumbled, moving as quickly as her bundled body allowed.
“You get used to it,” Cody promised as he slid inside the Hummer, brushing snow from his hair. “This is just a dusting.”
“How many feet does it have to snow before I can call it a storm?”
He laughed and she found the sound soothing. No, more than soothing. It was comforting. Comfortable. As if she was meant to be in this place with this man. Scary thought. It implied permanence, something she hadn’t ever so much as considered. The cold must have frozen some of her brain cells. The alternative would mean she was actually feeling something for Cody. An even scarier thought.
SAM LANDRY was not just a bean counter. Not if his business was any indication. Landry and Associates occupied an entire building in the heart of Jasper. According to Cody, his brother had only recently ventured out on his own and, from the looks of it, he was doing quite well. Although the floor was dim and deserted due to the late hour, J.J. couldn’t help but be struck by the art that adorned every wall from the lobby to Sam’s poshly decorated office.
She went to a particular oil hanging behind the mahogany desk. It was a spectacular landscape that managed to capture a pastoral scene that looked vaguely familiar. Her eyes scanned the meadow in full bloom, rimmed by majestic mountains. The colors were perfect, real yet somehow soft and dreamy.
“C.W. Landry?” she read. “Great,” she tossed over her shoulder at Cody. “That could be you, Clayton, Chance or Chandler.”
“You left out my cousin, Cade,” he teased.
“The Landrys definitely need to think about varying the consonants.”
“Of course, you’d be wrong,” he said, pressing behind her and slipping his hands around her waist. “The artist is Callie Walters Landry. Sam’s wife. She painted all this stuff. Sam wanted to surround himself with images of the ranch. Callie obliged.”
“She’s very talented, but did he really have to marry someone with a ‘C’ name?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Only after Seth married Savannah.”
“C’s and S’s. I…hate…your…confusing…family,” she breathlessly managed to say as her body quivered from his touch.
His hand gently massaged her belly as his hips moved against her back. “It doesn’t feel like you hate me.” He nibbled her earlobe.
“Not this exact instant. No.” Cody had an incredible mouth and it was doing the most delightful things to her neck. She pressed closer, as if that was possible. A fire flared in her soul as he methodically and purposefully kissed his way across her cheek, then took her mouth. It was so good. So right.
And so over.
Her eyes flew open. She craned her neck to see Cody wearing a very satisfied smile.
“I wasn’t done,” she told him, vainly trying to twist in his grasp in order to continue the kiss.
“Good things come to those who wait,” he promised, thwarting her efforts. “Even if the wait is becoming unbearable.”
“So why make it worse?” she asked, mortified when it came out like a childish whine.
“Because, my dear Agent Barnes, the wanting is always the best part.”
“That’s a pretty stupid perspective,” she groused as she took a seat at the computer and tried to focus on the task. Not an easy thing since he insinuated himself next to her and his nearness was a constant reminder of what she couldn’t have.
“You get testy when you’re frustrated, huh?”
Frustrated? Try ready to explode. “It isn’t very gentlemanly to gloat.”
“Probably not, but it is a lot of fun.”
“You want fun? Try a board game.”
She typed the letters that Lara had wanted to keep secret into a search engine. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do with Cody’s warm breath in her ear and the heat from his large body disturbing her concentration.
She twirled in the chair and was about to give him a lecture, when her eyes connected with the painting. She had a sudden thought.
Tearing a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad, she wrote the letters in a vertical line. “C—cabin. L—Lucky. S—Seven.” She glanced up at Cody. “Cabin at the Lucky 7. Our location. I think we just found the leak.”