Harlequin Romantic Suspense October 2015 Box Set by Marie Ferrarella

Author:Marie Ferrarella
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459290877
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

The man’s phone vibrated softly and he answered.

“What’s the situation?” the voice said on the other end of the line.

“The woman—that NCIS woman. She’s going to be a problem and Michaels is suspicious. It’s clear to me.”

“Mayer screwed up, bad.” He heard the clink of a cup. The man did like his tea.

He felt calm. He never panicked like the others when something went marginally wrong. He figured he was hardwired that way. In a hushed voice he said, “Hypothermia is a strange thing with victims removing all their clothes. Mayer froze to death without a scratch on him. I’ll accidentally find his body when all this crap is over.”

“You’re a scary son of a bitch. Well, do what you need to do to protect our operation or I’ll have your ass. Talk to Carl,” the man on the phone said.

“He’s not going to like it.”

“Persuade him. You’re good at that.”

He chuckled. “I enjoy it.”

The man chuckled back. “That’s why I keep you around. We get what we want and we make good money, so status quo. Squash this or we’re all going down, hard.” His words weren’t sharply spoken, but he felt their bite.

His eyes tracked an Apache helicopter as it took off from the field. The Marine Corps thought that he wasn’t soldier material. He hadn’t passed the psych test. Every branch of the service he’d applied for gave him the same answer. “I’ve got an idea. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure this doesn’t blow back at us.”

Who was smarter now?

* * *

“I want a name,” Tristan said as Amber opened the door and settled into his jeep.

Amber looked at him, her expression registering the lethal sound of his voice, the promise of violence in every syllable.

“I want a goddamned name!”

He gripped the wheel, his hands curling into fists. His gut churning, thinking that it was possible that someone could have deliberately ended James’s life. Someone could had pulled the trigger on that kid and taken him from the corps, from the service of his country, from his family and his girl, from the world he should still be living and breathing in.

“We’ll find out who did this. I’m not leaving until we do.” She pushed her hair back and said, “One look at that kid’s face and I was resolved to find out what caused his death. If he’s been murdered, someone will have to pay for that.”

James’s face so cold and still in death. Tristan braced his back against the leather seat, and the memory came at him like a demon, painfully sharp and so bright. He squeezed his eyes closed against it. He held himself rigid until every muscle quivered with the effort, but nothing stopped the memory from coming. It broke over him like a wave, washing away the present and dropping him back in time.

His breathing was harsh as he looked down at the row of dead lined up on the floor in the lobby of the bombed-out and bullet-riddled consulate in Banyan.

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