Special Ops Rendezvous Page 6

  Of course, Mike had taken up a lot of thought process and emotion. This was still a very sore place for him to go. Mike had gotten Sam to open up about some things. He now had to wonder if Mike had been feeding this to someone else or if he had been in the same boat as Sam. Totally blindsided by his descent to madness...or had it been madness?

  Frustrated, Sam pushed himself harder than in his previous workouts. By the time he got back to the house, the humid spring air had drenched him in sweat.

  Before going back to his room, he decided to look over his truck quickly, checking for tracking devices. Then he went inside and got the coffeemaker going.

  He heard the shower on in Olivia’s room. Keeping his mind completely neutral so that he wouldn’t think about Olivia’s body, now that he knew what she looked like beneath her clothes, he went straight to his own room and took a quick shower, dried off and was back out before she’d finished.

  In the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip.

  “Good morning. That smells very good.”

  He turned to find Olivia, in the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday, standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Her hair was damp, just starting to become wavy, her eyes bright enough that he guessed she’d gotten some sleep. She looked good—really good.

  “Would you like a cup?”

  “Do you have creamer here?”

  He shook his head. “No, just milk. I drink mine black.”

  She smiled at him and he was suddenly liking having a woman in the house first thing in the morning. “A necessity in the military?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes we’re lucky to get coffee at all.”

  She nodded and stopped by the fridge to pull out the milk while he reached into the cabinet to get her a travel mug. When he turned to hand it to her, she was right there. Too close. Her brown eyes taking in his face as she reached for the cup.

  Their hands met and the air heated. What was it with this woman? This happened every time he got close to her. Hell, who was he kidding? It happened every time he even thought of her.

  “Thanks,” she said, and poured out a cup and added a splash of milk. Taking a good swig, she sighed. “Sam, I was thinking. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a look at your file from my brother’s therapy sessions. Maybe there is something in there that might help you to remember or give you something to think about.”

  She stood next to him as she drank her coffee, and the scent of her drifted to him, clean and sweet. “Didn’t the police take everything for the investigation? Plus, it’s still a crime scene, right?” He wasn’t sure he wanted Olivia to see how messed up he really was. But she was here to help him. Not one to seek help, which was considered another sign of weakness, he had to put aside his military way of thinking and accept her help. It was hard to admit it, but he needed her.

  “No, they released it already. And they can’t have my brother’s files. Those are confidential, and as the sole inheritor of all his possessions, I told them they would need a warrant. They can’t go digging into patient files looking for a motive. They need probable cause.”

  “What about his computer?”

  “They didn’t really have a reason to take it, but even if they had, my brother didn’t keep paper files. He had a therapy management database he used, so we’ll have access to it anywhere. They wanted access to his emails, but, again, that’s a tricky thing. Some are private and confidential and some aren’t. I told them if they get a suspect, I’d revisit the email question. My brother would be horrified if his confidentiality was broken. I promised him that if anything ever happened to him, I would ensure that never happened.”

  “Well, that’s to our advantage. We had a lot of taped sessions, as well.”

  “I know where he keeps those, too. We can bring them back here to listen to them.”

  He tensed. Some of the stuff on those tapes was deeply personal. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear them. Some of the stuff was when he was under hypnosis, and still more was when he was remembering bits and pieces of his captivity, and it wasn’t at all pretty. He set down the coffee mug, the easygoing atmosphere suddenly growing tense. “I don’t think you should go. Just give me the key and I’ll take care of it.”

  Her brown eyes darkened and she got a mutinous look on her face. Damn, he loved the way this woman took no guff from him, even though this once he wished she would just comply.

  “What? Even after all that we discussed yesterday, you are still trying to protect me? I’m going, Sam. You may not believe it, but I’m in my element. I found myself when I became a P.I., so you can argue all you want, but I’m going!”

  “I usually give the orders,” he said flatly, all the irritation he’d felt while he was running earlier coming back at him in a rush.

  “Well, I’m not one of your soldiers, and guess what? I don’t have to follow them.”

  “Olivia. The key.”

  She made a noise that clearly stated she found him completely insufferable. He could be, so there was no point attempting to change her mind. But before the day was over, she’d also find out he was doggedly determined about keeping her safe. Her brother had died in that office, shot down like an animal. Eliminated. The blood was probably still on the floor. He could be in and out in a jiff without her having to see that so soon after her brother’s death. He wanted her clear of it.

  “This is a team effort, Sam. I’m keeping the key, and unless you want to try to wrestle it from me, this is going to remain a team effort.”

  He ran his hand over his hair and threw his head back to gain control over his temper. “You’re exasperating.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Just give me the key and stop arguing with me.”

  “No! What is your problem?” she snapped.

  “I don’t like that you have to go to the place where your brother was murdered.” His voice was quiet.

  Understanding came over her face slowly, and her eyes immediately softened. “Oh,” she said, sounding a little surprised by his kindness, but then so was Sam.

  He didn’t usually get in touch with his sensitive side, but with Olivia it just seemed to come out naturally. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  His mind spun back to that moment last night right before they said good-night when she’d made the comment about liking the man he was. From someone else it might have come across as flirty and provocative, but she’d said it rather straightforwardly, more as a measure of respect.

  After that kiss and her obvious growing regard for him, it was no surprise why his entire body had begun to tighten when she teased him and then disappeared into her room.

  And yet he couldn’t get his mind to let it alone. That moment he’d looked into her eyes and seen that she was as affected by their forced togetherness as he was. He wasn’t sure he’d be so chivalrous and self-controlled the next time. If there was a next time. He stared into those tender brown eyes as she looked up at him. He damn well knew he wanted there to be a next time.

  “I know that it won’t be easy. But I have to remain detached. For now. There will be a time to mourn my brother. But I explained to you why I need to do this. Put your protectiveness aside.”

  “Olivia—”

  “No, Sam. I appreciate it very, very much. But my intuition is telling me to stick close to you. That you are somehow the target here.”

  “I’d be the first to say never ignore your gut. It might not always be dead accurate, but that feeling is usually grounded in something.” Sort of like his instinct that Olivia was someone special. He’d gotten all hung up on his own stuff, and all that crap had dulled his instincts. Now? Now he was just all hung-up. “Something is going on and I am at the epicenter. There’s no doubt in my mind. It’s why I left my family’s estate and rented this house.”<
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  Her eyes went even softer. “Oh, Sam. You really are something.”

  He shifted under her scrutiny. He was so used to being a shadow warrior. He was silent and deadly behind the scenes. No one really knew what he did or what kind of sacrifices he had to make, except for the men who served with him. Men like Mike. “You ready to go or did you want to get something to eat?” he grumbled.

  She tilted her head and gave him a wry smile. “Don’t be such a sore loser. Let’s just stop by the coffee shop for some bagels. Something tells me you don’t have much here.”

  “See, those instincts are working for you.”

  She laughed and nudged his shoulder with hers. “Sounds like we’ll need a trip to the grocery store at the very least for half-and-half.”

  “Yes, whatever you need. I do want you to be comfortable here. How is the bed?”

  “Very comfortable, thank you, but I think I’ll get my own pillow.”

  Okay, it was time to get his mind off beds and pillows. He grabbed up his car keys and headed to the garage door. Holding it open for her, she stepped through and they got into his truck.

  Pulling out of the garage and driveway, he was hyperalert for anyone who might be watching them. But if it was the government, they had so many toys to easily keep track of him. Trying to find them was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  When he checked his truck over after his run he’d found no tracker. Didn’t mean it wasn’t there, just not in a package that was obvious to him.

  “When you have a chance, Olivia, could you go over my truck and your car to make sure there are no tracking devices? I looked this morning, but I didn’t see anything conspicuous.”

  She looked pleased that he was actually giving her something constructive to do. “I already did that before you caught me in your office. No trackers.”

  After stopping for a bite to eat, they headed over to Dr. Owens’s office. It didn’t matter what Olivia said, she was feeling something. He could tell by the way she took a deep breath before she fit the key in the lock and opened the door.

  She pushed it open and took another breath before she stepped inside. The outer office looked the same as it had when he was there three days ago. As they approached the office door, the only evidence that a crime had been committed was a piece of the yellow crime scene tape that was stuck to the frame of the door. He wished he could somehow lessen the impact of seeing her brother’s life destroyed.

  But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t change that reality. He’d learned to live with that after seeing countless injustices in his almost ten years with the army. But in this case, he had a direct personal connection to the other victim here. Olivia.

  After so recently enduring the assassination attempt on his mother’s life, he wasn’t so sure that he could have had anywhere close to the amount of courage that she had in facing her brother’s death and, taking it one step further, following through with what he would have wanted had he lived.

  The thought of losing either Trey or Thad, let alone his mother, was too painful even to contemplate. His respect for Olivia went up a notch. Her bravery humbled him.

  “Olivia, are you sure...?”

  “I’m sure,” she said, giving him a look of gratitude and pushing the door all the way open. The impact of the office settled in her eyes as she scanned the room. She abruptly stopped and swallowed hard when she saw the bloodstain on the floor. “Oh, John,” she whispered, clearly fighting her emotions. Taking a deep breath, she moved farther into the room and walked to one of the locked cabinets. After perusing the files, she pulled out a case.

  “These are yours. We’ll take them back to the house.”

  Sam looked closer at the lock and saw the very faint scratches on the wood. They could have been caused from everyday wear and tear, but his sixth sense was telling him that wasn’t the situation.

  He took the case out of her hands and opened it. Inside were five minicassettes. He pulled the last one out of the plastic. On the label, in neat handwriting, was the date from the previous week. The last session before Dr. Owens had been murdered.

  He walked to the desk where the microcassette recorder was sitting on the edge of the desk. The back of his neck prickled. Most of the stuff had been knocked off the desk. He popped the tape in and pushed Play.

  Nothing happened, no introduction to his session, no discussion about what was going to happen, nothing. He checked the volume. Up to full. He popped in the next and still nothing. He turned to look at Olivia.

  “The tapes have been erased.”

  “I guess that’s our confirmation.”

  He put his finger to his lips. He shook his head and opened the recorder and took out the tape.

  She nodded her understanding.

  His eyes traveled over the office, but he figured if there had been listening devices here, they had long been removed. Whoever planted them couldn’t afford to have law enforcement find them. But he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  He set the tape into its plastic sleeve and returned the case back to the file, which Olivia locked up. There was no use in taking it if it had been erased.

  They left the office without touching anything else. He could only hope that Olivia could find something in the notes on the therapy database, but after finding that the tapes had been tampered with, he was worried about the data online. They needed some idea why his therapy was so important, what Dr. Owens had discovered and how it impacted his life.

  He was even more uncomfortable now that Olivia was involved, but he’d lost that argument. First, he really needed her. She was a connection to his retrieving information about his therapy, if it hadn’t been compromised, and second, she was becoming important to him just by virtue of her character. It wasn’t only that he wanted to get close to her, intimately close, but it was the way she interacted with him.

  Once inside the truck, he started it and Olivia gave him directions to her apartment.

  As he put the truck in gear, Olivia said, “My brother was killed because of what he discovered about you through therapy. We just don’t know what that is. We’re flying blind.”

  “We are because I can’t remember a damn thing.” He turned to her, feeling even more paranoid than usual. “The implications of your brother’s death and my connection raise other red flags. If Dr. Owens was murdered because of something I had locked up in my mind, I had to guess that my captivity six months ago had to be in direct correlation. That was the topic we were working through. What happened to me during my imprisonment has to be related. Which only makes me think immediately about Mike.”

  “You’re thinking, did he go off the deep end because of what happened to him?”

  “I’m going to tell you what I remember, and I’m breaking federal law here, but I need your help. This is all classified information, Olivia. I was specifically told not to reveal anything.”

  “By whom?”

  “The CIA.”

  “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding about this being out of my comfort zone.”

  “No, I was dead serious.”

  “This smacks of the CIA and exactly what they would do, but aren’t they forbidden to run missions on American soil?”

  “Of course they are, but do you think that deep black ops cares about whether the soil is red, white and blue?”

  “Why would our government be running a black ops on you, Sam? What are they hoping to gain from it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She reached out and settled her hand on his forearm. It wasn’t something she consciously did, because she never even looked down, but her touch made it difficult to keep his mind on what she was saying. “Maybe we’re just jumping to conclusions here. We really have no proof of anything and nothing to go on unless we can unlock your mind.”

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nbsp; He bit his lip to keep his focus. His gut was churning with the implications of Dr. Owens’s death and the blank tapes. “I keep coming back to Mike. He was a tough son of a bitch, mentally tough, Olivia. We’re trained specifically in resisting torture. We’re chosen because of our mental and physical attributes. That’s why this attempt on my mother’s life and his subsequent meltdown is so disturbing. What got to him? Was my mother a target or in his delusion did he perceive her as one?”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “Did they get to Mike and mess with his mind so that he would kill my mother?”

  “Oh, God, Sam. What does that mean for you?”

  “I wish I freaking knew. Maybe they got important information about my family from me. I just don’t know. If this is about my family, I should really warn them.”

  “At this point, we really need to just get to my apartment, get my things and grab my camera. I’m anxious to get there now. Once we get some answers, that will help.”

  “If we get any answers. Without a professional, Olivia, how do we get to what’s inside my head?”

  “That is a good question. Do you know anyone you’re willing to trust?”

  “It’s not a matter of trusting them. It’s a matter of putting them in danger. Anyone I talk to is a potential target.”

  “Oh, you’re right. This is very frustrating.”

  “I don’t like any of this. It’s a mess with you right in the line of danger.”

  Her hand tightened on his arm. Then she moved closer to him for protection as if she was trying to get away from the danger she must have realized she was in. His heart clenched at the thought of her considering him a safe haven. “Sam, I’m part of this now whether you like it or not. If the CIA or some clandestine black ops part of the army killed my brother, they must already know that I’m involved. I wouldn’t be safe anyway. I say I’m much safer close to you.”