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Keira didn’t really care that people were giving her dirty looks as they pushed around her. She couldn’t decide what to do. From her perch, next to her box of belongings, on top of the table, in front of her former place of work, she watched the traffic. She needed to get it home without the help of a friend’s car.
The two words you’re fired still rang in her ears, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What a day. Hell, what a week! She’d asked for a leave of absence as instructed by Detective Solomon. Mr. Bryant didn’t like the idea and gave her an ultimatum.
“An ultimatum, can you believe that?”
A man in a tan hat turned to look at her in question as if to ask, you talking to me? She felt herself blush and shut her mouth on the next words she’d been about to utter.
God, she must look like an idiot sitting on a table in the middle of the sidewalk. Climbing off, she picked up the edge and drug it behind her. There was no way she’d get the wooden pain in the ass on the subway. She’d just have to bite the bullet and see if she could get a cab to take her and her stupid beloved table.
Actually, she was beginning to hate the blasted thing. If it wasn’t for the table she’d still be employed. If her boss hadn’t told her to clean out her desk she would have left it. She dropped the edge with a thunk and glared at it.
“What’s it ever done to you?” A voice startled her from her tantrum.
“What?” Mortified she swung around and came face to face with the beach boy assigned to follow her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way home to be taken into protective custody?” He put his ever-handy paper under his arm and considered her. “Having an argument with an inanimate object is rather a creative way to be taken away I must admit.”
“I need to get the dumb thing home and I’m trying to decide how to do it.” Keira knew it was lame, but she didn’t have a clue what to say.
“And you thought it would tell you?” He gave her an incredulous look.
She felt like stomping her foot and crying. Why couldn’t anything go her way? She’d come to New York with such hopes. But, from the minute she stepped off the plane, the city and its people had been trying to get rid of her, or so it seemed.
“Come on, I’ve got my car in the garage at the precinct.”
He picked the table up, walked to the edge of the building, and set it out of the way of foot traffic. He turned to consider her. She still stood where he had left her. For some reason she felt defiant, which was stupid, he was offering to help.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being difficult. I would appreciate the help.” She went to sit on the blasted thing. “I’ll wait here, if I leave the table someone will take it.”
“I can’t let you do that. Come on, let’s get this table back in the building. I’ll have the guard watch it and we’ll go get my car,” he told her reasonably.
She still didn’t feel like cooperating. But the vision of what had happened to the man when the knife had slid along his throat made her shudder. She gave a dramatic sigh. “All right.”
Thirty minutes later, they finally managed to double-park in front of the office building. She hopped out of the car and reached the table first, she had it dragged halfway to the curb by the time he joined her.
Without a word, he picked it up and loaded it into the car. She followed and then walked around to get in the passenger side.
“I guess I don’t need to tell you where I live.”
“Nope, but with traffic it could take a while to get there.”
“Why do you drive to work? It’s such a hassle.” She buckled her seatbelt and settled down into the seat.
“When I’m not babysitting I need a car during the day.” He gave her a quick glance.
“Not your favorite assignment, huh?” She gave him a brief smile and turned her attention to the side traffic.
“Not when it’s boring, you’re very easy to watch. You know you’re in danger and unlike some people, you try to stay low-key. Easy for me, but boring.” She heard his chuckle but didn’t turn.
“Well, at least I gave you a little entertainment. Keira and her table sidewalk show.”
“There is that.”
Silence reigned the rest of the way. Keira, deep in thought about what was to come, was surprised when he pulled to the curb.
“Delivery to your door ma’am.”
He took the table out, carried it to the front door and waited while she slid her security card. He carried it to the elevator where the sign still hung about the part.
“I’ll carry it up, you’ve done enough. Thank you.” Keira tried to take the table.
When he wouldn’t let go, she pulled harder. He scowled at her and pulled in his direction. Gritting her teeth, she pulled as hard she could, the wood biting into her fingers. It was her goddamn table and she’d take it up the damn stairs if she wanted to. Tears formed in her eyes and she hated herself for it.
She was taking her frustrations out on him and the table. That didn’t make her stop. She couldn’t even budge it her way; she looked up at him suddenly and saw his smile. That was the deal breaker. She let go and plopped on her butt in the middle of the foyer.
She pulled her knees to her chest, folded her arms around them, and let go of the sobs she’d been holding onto all day. Why did she have to witness something so horrific? And why was she being punished for it? What in the grand scheme of things had jinxed her Karma? That’s what she wanted to know.
None of the questions could be answered with her sitting there blubbering with a man she’d barely met watching her. Taking a deep calming breath she raised her head and saw the man sitting on top of the table, patiently waiting.
“Sorry,” Keira said sheepishly. He must think she was the biggest nutcase he’d ever had the misfortune to encounter.
“I figured you were entitled. You needed it out of your system.” He stood up, smiled, and picked up the table. “Which floor?”
“Six.” She pushed to her feet, wiping an arm over her cheeks to dry them.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “And you wanted to do it yourself?”
“It didn’t have anything to do with the table and doing it myself.” She tilted her head and considered him. He was pretty wise. “I think you know that. Do you have sisters by chance?”
“Yup, and I’ve learned just to be patient and weather the storm, it is better that way. You just can’t reason with a hysterical woman.”
She snorted, and then looked at him in embarrassment. “Sorry, that slipped out.”
He grinned, turned, and climbed the stairs. She followed behind feeling better for her outburst. She’d start to pack so she’d be ready for whoever came to take her to the safe house. She hoped he had as much patience as Buffett boy.
“What’s your name?” After all she'd put him through, Keira thought she should know his name.
“Cameron Thomas, but everyone from the precinct calls me Thomas.”
They had reached her door; she unlocked it and opened it so Cameron could put the table inside. She held out her hand when he was about to leave.
“It was nice to meet you Cameron Thomas. Tell your sisters they’re very lucky to have you.”
He shook her hand, then tipped an imaginary hat at her. “I doubt they’d think so. You take care. Someone will be here soon.”
He turned without another word. She watched him until he was out of sight then went into her apartment to start the process of packing her life up. She wouldn’t be returning.
*****
Tyler spotted Cameron Thomas sitting on the bus stop bench. “Thomas, how’s it going?”
“Bored.”
“How long have you been here?
“A while. I helped her take a table to her apartment, she hasn’t come out since.” Thomas stood, folded the newspaper and threw it in the trash. “I’m going to let you take over.”
“Thanks. Anything I should know?”
“She’s a crier.” He walked away without an explanation.
Tyler hoped to hell that a crier wasn’t what he thought it was. However, he’d put up with tears, if needed, anything to get Battista locked away for good. He looked at his file that had the apartment number on it, ringing the buzzer he waited.
A muffled “Yes,” sounded over the intercom.
“It’s Federal Agent Tyler Beckett ma’am.”
No reply except the metal scrape of the automatic door release as it echoed around the hall. He let himself in and went to the elevator. “Jesus, just what I need,” he uttered when he saw the out-of-service sign.
Turning to the stairs he trudged the long hike to her apartment. By the third floor he was ready to give up, his body ached in places he didn’t even know he had, if that were possible. He stopped on the landing resting against the newel post. He had his car parked in the lot down the street, when she was ready he’d go park it in front of the building to load her things. He hadn’t planned on six flights each way to do it.
Finally in front of her door, he huffed a moment to catch his breath. He knocked and put his ID in front of the Judas hole knowing he wouldn’t gain entrance if she saw his face.
The door cracked opened, the first thing to appear, long strands of wavy ginger hair. Then half of her face appeared around the door, one summer blue eye, her skin a clear alabaster. The zing went all the way to his toes. God, if he had this reaction to only a partial look, he was in trouble.
A look of horror spread on what he could see of her face. “You’re him.” The door began to shut.
Tyler stuck his foot in the door and received a brief shot of pain up his leg. “No. Look at me. Look closely. Remember your sketch. You said the hit man has long hair. Mine’s short. I have green eyes.” He spoke quickly.
“I could have imagined the cold blue eyes.” The reply muffled by the door.
“No, you were adamant. You even told Detective Solomon that you didn’t care, it wasn’t plausible. You would not change your story.” Poor woman, she’d seen something no one should, it’s no wonder she was frightened.
The pressure on the door released a little and she poked her entire head around the door this time. He sucked in his breath at the full impact. Flawless. The only thought to float across his mind.
“May I see your identification again?”
His mind went blank. What had she just said? All he heard was a husky voice smooth as honey.
Those beautiful eyes narrowed and the full lips tightened. “Is there a problem with your identification?”
He blinked a couple of times to try to break whatever spell she’d cast. In all of his thirty-eight years, no woman had ever had this effect on him, not even his ex-wife.
The pressure of the door as she tried to shut it again brought him out of his daze. What had she asked? “Sorry miss, here is my identification.”
He flipped it open, while she looked at it he studied her. She was tall. Almost as tall as him; he couldn’t wait to see all of her.
She opened the door the rest of the way so he could enter. He occupied himself looking around at the small living room. Then he turned. What greeted him made him pause. It wasn’t too late to call the Cap and have someone else assigned to take her into protective custody. He could always say he decided he just wasn’t up to it yet.
Unfortunately, no one who knew him would buy it.
She had her head tilted to the side observing him and he realized they were both staring at each other. How long had they been standing that way?
He cleared his throat. “Keira Cavanaugh?” He didn’t offer her his hand, afraid of what would happen.
“Federal Agent, Tyler Beckett?”
“Yes,” he said.
He tried to smile, and then winced at the pain. “Are you ready?” Indicating the boxes stacked by the wall.
“Yes, the apartment came furnished.” She shrugged, tilted her head to the side, directing his attention to a table in front of her things. “I only brought a few things to New York when I moved. My roommates are abroad. I’ve asked Mrs. Fergus to watch over the place.”
“That’s good.” He could tell she was nervous. She had her hands clutched in front of her as if she wanted to hold something. He warily watched for any tears as Thomas had warned of, but she seemed to be holding up okay. “I’m going to go get my SUV and pull up front.” He paused and added, “I hadn’t really planned on the stairs.”
*****
Keira watched him pick up one of the smaller boxes and turn to the door. She hadn’t been able to breathe normally since she’d let him in. First, her heart had slammed against her ribs when she thought Blue Eyes had found her.
But when he stepped into her tiny living room, his presence filled it and her heart bumped for a totally different reason. His hair a riot of curls, intense green eyes that seemed to be able to read her mind, and he had a body any normal woman dreams of having in her bed. Good God where had that thought come from?
Everything ran through her mind in an instant, and then he was opening the door to leave for the car. She didn’t want him to go.
“Why is your face all scraped up?” She said the first thing that came to her just so he’d turn and look at her again.
Her toes tingled, her mouth went dry, and little jolts of electricity ran through her body. Oh lord she was in trouble. Wherever he was taking her, she hoped he dropped her off into someone else’s care. Then she realized she needed him to be the one to stay with her. That chased away any thought of someone else taking over.
She didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he frowned and shrugged. “Someone thought I was Battista. Apparently, I look a lot like him.”
“You do.”
But he’d already left.
Did someone beat him up? She’d ask when they were on their way.
Dread rippled over and around her nerves. Maybe she should call the detective. There was no way she’d feel safe with the agent, not with her nightmares about cold blues eyes watching her every move.
He looked too much like the deadly killer. It didn’t matter there were differences.
Inhaling a lungful of air, she reminded herself Agent Beckett was one of the good guys. All she had to do was repeat that fact to herself. Probably a gazillion times a day. Man, was it going to be a long stay at the safe house. Wherever it might be.