Crashed, p.25
Crashed, page 25
“I told you, baby.” Isabel stroked his cheek. “That mom of yours can see right through a person’s skull, clear into their head.”
“They remember you,” Travis said. “My mom and dad.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“My mom knew the moment she saw us together that there was something between us. She apparently kept expecting me to say something and when I didn’t ... ” He hitched up a shoulder. “But she kept an eye on your dad, knew about you being the star witness against him. Then you disappeared into the wind. She never told me, though, that she’d guessed about us.”
Somebody else said his name and he stepped back. “Come on. I need an update and we need to figure everything else out.”
While Isabel and Rye worked on making coffee, Miles let Travis update him on his family situation. That took all of five minutes—and would have taken less time if Ellison hadn’t interrupted.
“Wait a minute ... Sebastien and Marin ... you’re not ... ” She gaped at Travis. “Are you talking about Sebastien Barnes and Marin Lassiter-Barnes ... as in the biggest couple in Hollywood right now? You can’t be talking about them. There’s only one other brother and he’s Trey’s twin.”
“Yeah. That’s my twin,” Travis said. “Why? You want an autograph?”
Ellison started to laugh scathingly but Isabel and Travis just watched her, as did Miles. The rest looked interested, but that was it.
And Ellison’s laughter choked off, then faded.
“You’re serious.”
“I don’t see the point in lying about something like that.”
Ellison started to sputter. “But Trey’s twin is identical. I’ve seen pictures.”
“They’re twins, Ellie,” Isabel snapped, irritated. “I met both Zach and Trey. It was years ago and I doubt they remember.”
“My parents remember you,” Travis reminded her.
Ellison was still gaping.
Clearing his throat, Rye said, “While it’s lovely to be in the same room with somebody almost famous, can we discuss why we’re really here? It’s a little thing called a potentially dangerous ex-felon with a history of violence who wants to harm at least one individual in this room?”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Miles cleared his throat and pulled a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his pocket before picking up a file folder on the table in front of him. “I’ve had several likely sightings—and a couple of potential sightings. The most recent was near Freeport.”
“Here in Maine,” Isabel said to nobody in particular. A chill raced down her spine and Travis covered her hand with his.
“Yes. It was first reported last night by a state trooper. A few select troopers with the state police have been keeping a ... ” Miles paused and pursed his lips. “A discreet eye on him.”
Travis made a low sound deep in his throat, one that sounded a lot like a growl.
Isabel turned her hand over and tightened her grip on the strong fingers holding hers.
“That’s barely an hour away,” Ace said, looking up from her phone. “This place here is barely a speck on the map. If our target knows where Ms. Franklin lives, he could be here at any time.”
“He’s still in the Freeport area.” Miles picked up his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and read something. “Once I heard about the sighting, I had two of my most trusted head to that area. One of them got eyes on him this morning when he left his motel. He’s 99.9% certain our target.”
“Then why don’t they arrest him?” Ellison demanded.
“You don’t want to risk him using it as an excuse to cry foul if this goes back to trial,” Marilyn said before anybody else had time to respond. She looked at Isabel, then at Ellison. “Right now, he’s just driving down a road in Maine. They can’t trace the calls to him, not with 100% accuracy. It’s all speculation. And I imagine he’s thrown away whatever cell phone he’s used. Until he’s here, threatening Isabel in person, all he’s done is skip out on parole.”
“Yes,” Miles said, not wasting any words.
Travis wanted to hit something, but he knew Miles wasn’t wrong.
“It’s the best way.” Isabel’s voice was soft. “We can’t take the chance he just goes back to jail for a few years or ... worse, gets a slap on the wrist.”
“Exactly.” Miles looked at her and his expression was as hard as Travis had ever seen it. “He spent years trying to find a way out and when he saw it, he planned, calculated and executed his plan, then focused on nothing but making his way here. He’s dangerous, Bella. One of the last things I plan to do on this earth is to see you, and your sisters, safe from every last threat posed by your father. It’s the least I, and this country, owe you.”
Isabel sniffed, then managed a watery smile. “Miles, you’ve done ... so much, already. But thank you.” Her hand tightened even more on Travis’s. He stroked her thumb over his and he felt a tightness in his chest, wondered if he’d ever be able to find the words to thank the stubborn old bastard in front of him.
“Don’t thank me,” Miles said, shaking his head. “Please. Now ... we need to discuss the safest way to extract those kids and your sisters.”
“Wait a minute.” Ellison slapped her hands on the table.
Marilyn set her jaw and shook her head.
Isabel looked at each of them and shook her head. “It’s not up for debate.”
Chapter 28
Getting Ellison to leave was almost as hard as convincing Brooklyn she wasn’t being sent to a new foster mom.
As they finally got Ellison out the door, Rye looked back at Travis and Miles with pure disgust in his eyes. “Old man, if you weren’t dying, I just might hate you for doing this to me. That woman is a menace.”
“I’m not looking forward to it, either, you prick,” Ellison snarled at him.
Rye ignored the petite form at his side as he held his hand out to Travis. “In case I don’t see you again when this is all said and done, man. It’s been an honor.”
“Same.” Travis gripped Rye’s hand, held tight. “Thanks for helping me out with this. I know it’s not your normal milieu.”
“Don’t use them fancy five-dollar words on me, Hollywood.” Rye winked at him. “Highfaluting Hollywood, damn. Yeah, I should have guessed it, though. Always were being sent into those fancy-ass spots while we were there in the muck ready to pull you out if things went to shit.”
“Oh, kiss my ass.” Travis laughed. He couldn’t help it. More than once, Rye had been one of the other pretty boy types Miles would send in, because he, unlike too many federal agents, knew how to move and blend with those in high society. “I saved your ass a time or two, if I recall correctly.”
Rye grinned at him. Then his smile faded and he shook his head. “Don’t thank me. This kind of job ... it’s a nice break. Get to spend some time around some nice kids. At the end of it, I know they’ll be in good hands—and the bad guys ain’t going to win this one. You’ll take him down or put him back where he belongs. I know that much.”
After one last smile, Rye turned and gave Ellison a curt nod.
Strangely, Ellison had been quiet throughout the interaction and she further surprised Travis by turning away with only one last pithy look.
After watching to make sure they all cleared out, Travis cast a look at the darkened windows of the house across the street, then at the only other home along the narrow road.
Those windows, too, were dark.
“Neighbors?” he asked, turning to look at Marie Jung, the agent who would be succeeding Miles. Travis had met her several times and liked her well enough. Right now, though, looking at her only reminded him that his mentor and friend was dying, and although that wasn’t her fault, it made him irrationally angry.
She seemed to understand and she kept their exchanges short.
“We’ve relocated the couple that lives there, telling them there’s a problem with the main electrical line leading to this road that will take approximately seventy-two hours to repair.” She offered a politely bland smile. “They were happy to take a paid trip to Bangor. They did ask not to be placed in the same hotel as the Brimley family. Apparently, the father is unpleasant.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“It’s likely moot. We were able to contact Bridgette Brimley at her place of employment—she apparently can’t take a few days off. She works for a nursing home and the staffing shortage is too severe to allow it, but she agreed to stay at a home on the other side of town that we arranged. My man handling those aspects reiterated several times that it would be dangerous to be in the house while the work was being done and she seemed to understand, and came home to pack some clothes for her and her son.” She pursed her lips. “When I asked about her husband, she said he’s been off looking for work. I don’t think she’s lying, but I don’t believe she really thinks he’s off looking for work, either. He may be a problem.”
“He already is a fucking problem,” Travis muttered. “We need somebody over there in case he shows up. And it needs to be somebody who can handle him because he will get ... testy.”
“I’ll be over there with a two-man team.” Jung gave another one of her bland smiles. “I did obtain permission—more or less—and told Ms. Brimley that we’d need access to the house to do checks to make sure everything was completed satisfactorily.”
“Like that will really fly if anybody looks too deep at this,” Travis muttered. Just another reason he was happy to leave this life behind. But neither Brant nor his mom deserved the trouble Stephen Beresford could bring down on them, and even as big a prick as the father was, Travis didn’t think he deserved Beresford, either. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he looked out front. Save for the black Cadillac, which Jung had arrived in, the only vehicle visible on the street now was Isabel’s big van.
“We’ll be moving that into Miles’ garage,” Jung said.
As if on cue, one of the agents who’d be with her across the street came over and collected the keys.
“Hawkins, you want him to run you down there?”
“I can walk,” Miles said sourly.
Travis wanted to tell the older man not to be stubborn but he elected to keep his mouth shut. If he was in Miles’s shoes, he would have chosen the same.
Their radios all went live just as Miles reached the door.
“Report,” Miles said after security codes were exchanged and confirmed on both sides. As he spoke in a cool, clipped voice, he looked over and found Travis, their gazes connecting.
Isabel, who had just entered the foyer, slid her hand into his just as the unknown agent on the other end of the line began to speak.
“Our target is on the road and heading toward the destination, sir.”
“Understood. Follow at a discreet distance and keep me updated.”
“Got it.”
As the radio went dead, Isabel rested her head on Travis’s shoulder. He broke their clasped hands and slid his arm around her shoulders, tugging her in even closer.
Miles met her gaze. “It will be over soon, Bella. I promise.”
“That would be nice.” She smiled nervously. “Hey, maybe I can even get my life back. Think it’s possible?”
“Anything’s possible,” Miles said.
Then he turned and gestured for the agent to precede him. “Since we’re now on a timetable, you might as well drive me over.”
They were alone in the house.
If you didn’t count the numerous bugs and cameras that had been scattered around the property. Three agents were across the street. Two were in the small boathouse in Isabel’s backyard. Two were in her detached garage. And Miles was in his own house, which had a computer set-up to rival NORAD from what she’d been told.
It was just her and Travis in her place. With him, she felt safe. But she was also nervous as hell. They hadn’t had more than a few minutes alone since they’d slept together and everything between them had drastically changed, so fast.
In the foyer, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans.
She shoved hers into the kangaroo-like pouch of her hoodie.
And they just looked at each other.
“You need—”
“Are you hungry—”
They laughed nervously and Travis gestured at her. “You first.”
“Ah ... I was just wondering if you’re hungry. You’ve been on the go almost non-stop since all of this started. And I haven’t even had a chance to ask how everything went.”
“I already told you ... it went well enough. There’s time for a deeper discussion later.” He glanced up where he knew a small camera was placed. “When we have real privacy. And no ... I’m not hungry for food.”
Her face went red, hand fluttering up to her throat.
The look on his face must have relayed everything he felt because her breath hitched.
“We need to get you in your vest.” He gave her a critical look. “You wearing anything under that?”
“My bra.”
“It will chafe without something under it.” He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s see what we can find.”
“What about you?”
Travis shrugged. “I can get into mine in seconds. Practice. And I’ve got a hoodie on the couch.”
Isabel nodded and turned to head down the hall.
He locked up the doors, set the alarm, and did a quick walk around the interior of the house as he sent out a request for an update on Beresford’s location.
“Stopped for gas a few minutes ago. He’s still about thirty minutes away from the destination.” The agent following him had to fall farther back and had been replaced by another, this time somebody in a truck that looked like a beat-up POS, according to the report Travis had gotten. “We got a couple of state boys who spotted him but they received the revised request to stay at a distance as we’re in position now.”
“Miles, you’ve made sure no local law enforcement is going to be stepping in?”
“I spoke directly to the county sheriff and the chief of the police here in Blessing, Travis. Neither of them wants to get in on this, trust me. The locals have their hands full dealing with Lloyd and his type when they go on a bender.”
Travis trusted Miles, completely, but he’d had locals interfere before and his silence must have conveyed something to the other man. “We’re listening to the locals, son. If there’s any sign of trouble, I’ve got extra men in town who’ll move in. He won’t get away.”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to check on Isabel, help her with her vest, make sure she’s set. If I go silent for a few minutes, that’s why. It won’t be long.”
Jung started to speak, but Miles cut her off.
“If she’s nervous and you need a minute or two, that’s fine. Just keep it short. We need you downstairs, looking as normal as possible.”
Travis was halfway to Isabel’s room by the time Miles had signed off and he tugged off his earpiece, thumbing the tiny power button. As he slid into Isabel’s room, he set the device on her dresser.
She glanced at it, then at him.
He nodded to her closet, acutely aware of the camera positioned near the balcony door, the other just outside her bedroom. “Show me what sort of thin, long-sleeved shirts you have hanging up. Something soft. Anything else will bunch up under the vest.”
A soft flush rose up her cheeks as she turned and went to the walk-in closet.
He followed and closed the door, pulling her back against him and turning, pressing her against the door.
Isabel gasped. “Travis ... the cameras ... ”
“Shhh ... ” he pressed his mouth to her neck, one hand going to the drawstring waistband of her soft, flannel pants. He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened a music app and hit play.
Low, lyrical music poured out.
“They’ll know,” she whispered.
“I don’t care.” He nuzzled her neck. “I need you. That’s all that matters ... unless you don’t want this.” He flattened his hands against her belly. “If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
She turned her head in the darkened closet and found his mouth with unerring certainty. “No ... I don’t care.”
She started to turn, but he stopped her, pushing his hand down her pants and into her panties.
A rough groan escaped as he stroked her. “You’re already wet, Bella-mine.”
“When you looked at me ... ” her breath stuttered out of her. “Downstairs, I knew. The way you looked at me, your eyes ... it was like you were already touching me, stroking me.”
He caught her chin in his free hand and pulled her face around to his, kissing her deep and hot as he pushed his fingers inside her. At the same time, he flicked his thumb over her clitoris.
Isabel’s knees threatened to give out.
She clutched at his forearm with one hand, slid the other along the smooth surface of the door, found the cool metal of the doorknob and held on tight. Travis pumped his hips against her backside and she whimpered as she felt the hard, heavy ridge of his cock.
She moved against his hand, her orgasm so close, she could already feel her thighs tightening.
“I need you inside me,” she said desperately. “Please ... ”
He groaned and bit her lower lip, then reached down between them to shove her pants down. They caught and tangled around her knees, along with her panties. She heard the rasp of his zipper, felt the hot, hard brush of his penis along her butt.
Then he froze. “Fuck ... we don’t have the condoms in here.”
He swore and backed away.
She whimpered and pressed her head to the door.
“Shhh ... ” He slid his hand around, cupped her. “I’ll take care of you.”
“We don’t need the condoms ... do we?” She pressed her burning cheek to the door. “I’ve always been careful. I’m disease-free, so there’s nothing to worry about there. And you ... well, there’s nothing else to worry about, either.”
“Bella ... ” He cuddled her against him, cradled her, kissing her neck, her temple, her cheek. “As if that would ever be a worry for me. And yeah, I’m all clear on the health front. I’ve gotten checked several times ... and I’ve only had a couple of partners, nobody recently. But are you sure?”
