Cold Silence Read online

  The door of the bar opened and Shane Livingstone strode out. He stopped in surprise. “Something wrong with your car?”

  She laughed softly. “Only the fact I don’t own one. Laura drove us here. I’m calling a rideshare.”

  He tipped down his chin and frowned over his straight nose. “Don’t even think about it.” He held up his key fob with his good hand. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t even know you.”

  “And you know the Uber driver?” he scoffed.

  She hesitated. “I get rides all the time.”

  He snorted. “You gonna Uber to work? You think the USMC guards are gonna let them past the barriers?”

  She crossed her arms. “Firstly, I didn’t say I was working on base”—though she was—“and, secondly, I didn’t say I didn’t have transportation. I said I didn’t have a car.”

  “Who the hell doesn’t have a car?” Amusement tugged at his lips and she forced herself to look away. Damn, he was attractive. “Look, I’m heading home and I’m happy to give you a ride. Saves me following your driver to make sure you get home safe, and it also makes me look good to the Marines who are about to walk out this door thinking I got lucky with the hottest chick in the place.”

  “Hottest chick?” she sputtered, half indignation, half surprise. “Wait. Was I the only female in there?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “You are a hard woman to compliment.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t lead with you look pale and I might believe you.”

  “I didn’t mean you aren’t attractive.” He sounded genuinely confused.

  Damn, this conversation was mortifying. She wasn’t fishing for compliments.

  He hunched his shoulders as if to fight off the biting chill in the air, not surprising considering he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. “Look, Yael.” She jolted as he said her name. “After last week I don’t like the idea of you being in a vulnerable position when it’s avoidable. It would make me feel better if you let me give you a ride home. I promise I won’t try to suck your face.”

  Embarrassment burned her cheeks once again. She hadn’t meant to suggest for a moment that he would make a pass at her. This was why she preferred computers to people. She had yet to offend a PC with a socially awkward comment.

  Releasing a sigh, she found herself walking beside him. The sidelights of a massive black truck flashed as they approached.

  He moved to the passenger side and opened the door. There was a step to climb inside. “Need a hand?”

  She shot him a look. Did he really think she couldn’t get into a truck?

  “You have a broken arm,” she reminded him.

  He held up his broken arm. “This thing?” He tapped on the plaster cast. “Good as new.”

  She huffed. “Something tells me your doctor ordered you to keep it in the sling.”

  His lips quirked. “More of a suggestion than an order.”

  The Marines chose that moment to stumble out of the bar. She caught the eye of the man who’d tried to pick her up earlier. He gave her puppy dog eyes and she shook her head in exasperation.

  “I take it you turned him down?” Shane gave the younger guy a quelling stare.

  Yael snorted and got in the truck. “He doesn’t look old enough to drink alcohol. I prefer to date grown-ups.”

  Not that she dated much. Ever.

  Shane chuckled and then walked around to the driver’s side and got in. “That pretty much rules out the Marines.”

  “What about you?” She wanted to kick herself for asking a personal question but the man kept imposing himself in her life so maybe he deserved it.

  “What about me—as in who do I date?” He sent her another look that she couldn’t read. “I also like to date grown-ups, but lately I seem to date women who want more from me than I am willing to give.” He grimaced, as if he’d revealed too much. “Which makes me sound like a complete asshole, so I probably am.”

  Yael could see it. Women would be drawn to the good looks and the competent attitude. She wondered if the words were also a subtle warning, like he knew there was this occasional flicker of attraction between them and for her not to assume it would lead anywhere beyond the nearest bedroom.

  Her heart fluttered against her ribs.

  He started the engine. “I guess I’m married to my job.”

  She laughed, relieved as the tension eased. “Me, too.”

  “Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, but…” He turned and held her gaze. The heat in his eyes intensified.

  She shivered but not from cold. “Occasionally it’s lonely as fuck.”

  She bit her lip. His gaze shifted to her mouth.

  And like that the air between them sizzled.

  Shane dragged his gaze away from Yael’s full lower lip and shoved his truck in gear, reminding himself that wasn’t why he was here. He was here because he wanted to gain this woman’s trust. However, her words struck him hard because, occasionally, being devoted to his career was lonely as fuck. Most of the time he didn’t even notice.

  He thought about Grace and her fatherless children and suddenly being married to his job didn’t seem so bad. At least if something happened to him, no one outside his immediate family would have their lives shattered.

  Thinking about Grace reminded him his best friend had been murdered and his fingers tightened on the wheel. Yael being in the bar tonight felt like fate. The sort of signal from the universe he’d learned never to ignore.

  And that was why he was here.

  He pulled back on his natural inclination to mock the Marines as he drove past. There was no real malice involved. It was an expected ritual that harkened back to his days in Special Forces. He didn’t think Yael would appreciate the banter though. Women like her didn’t appreciate being treated like a winner’s trophy and he already knew she did not like being the center of attention. She liked to be what she thought was in the shadows, the gray man. But she was too attractive for men not to pay attention. Plus, a guy like him always paid attention to what was lurking in the shadows. Survival 101.

  And he couldn’t quite shake a growing suspicion that refused to go away. Evi1Geni-us had known they were coming. Had he simply lured them into a trap? Or had someone inside the taskforce helped him? Shane’s instincts screamed that Yael was hiding something. He didn’t know what, but he didn’t like it.

  Shane was absolutely positive no one on HRT had gone rogue, but how was a guy like him supposed to figure out whether or not one computer geek was in league with another?

  By hanging out with one. By gaining Yael’s trust.

  Which was turning out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

  Despite the sizzle of attraction, Yael wasn’t giving off vibes that suggested she was looking to hook up. In fact, even though random sparks unexpectedly lit up the air between them, she acted like she’d rather be anywhere but here with him.

  Was that because she was worried about what he might find out? Or perhaps she really wasn’t interested and his imagination was in overdrive because his libido had suddenly woken up after a long hiatus.

  He was serious about his concerns about her catching an Uber home. Who knew who was behind the wheel? If Evi1Geni-us could hack an employee of one of the top cybersecurity firms in the US, who was to say he couldn’t hack the apps and be Johnny-on-the spot when it came to picking up someone off the street?

  Maybe that’s how the asshole captured his victims in the first place.

  Shane headed to the T-junction on the main road. “Which way?”

  The leather of her jacket creaked as she sank back against the seat. Even that sound had an effect on him, setting his awareness on high alert.

  “Take a right,” she said reluctantly.

  He flicked a glance at her. She was gorgeous, although, somehow, he’d convinced her that he thought otherwise. Usually he was better with women, but not this one apparently.

  No
t that he was interested in anything besides tracking down Scotty’s killer. Not really. He hadn’t lied about being married to his work. Although no-strings sex with a willing, attractive woman… Well, sex was rarely off the table.

  He rested his injured arm on his thigh. He was doing what the doctor told him most of the time. Resting it, keeping the arm in the sling. But he didn’t want to lose all the strength in his left arm, so he was exercising it a little. Enough to maintain some conditioning, without exacerbating the injury—he wasn’t an idiot. The bone ached today though, suggesting he had overdone it. Not that he’d admit that to anyone without the infliction of torture.

  Which reminded him again why he was driving Yael home.

  “What’s your address?”

  After a brief hesitation she told him. He was glad she guarded her privacy even from FBI agents like himself.

  She didn’t make idle chitchat. She stared out of the window and he could see her expression reflected in the glass. Pensive and uneasy. His aim to get her to open up and trust him was not getting off to a great start.

  “Was your friend originally supposed to be heading back to your place tonight?”

  She turned to face him and the scent of her hit him. Something sweet and dark, like leather with a hint of blackberries.

  Silence hovered between them. Did she think he was coming on to her after he’d promised not to? Probably. What if she asked him inside? He’d like to think he was shrewd enough to say no but somehow, he doubted it. What better way to get close to someone?

  He shied away from that thought.

  Finally she blew out a heavy sigh. “She had her things in her car and said she’d head back to DC later tonight.”

  Laura and the date had obviously hit it off.

  “I don’t know how she does it.” Yael dragged her hair out of the ponytail and then tied it back up again. “I mean she runs background checks but it’s so easy to manipulate information online…”

  Shane made himself stare at the road rather than her. Hoped his silence would encourage her to talk.

  She laughed self-consciously. “It seems scarier using a dating app down here compared to up in DC. I mean if you don’t like someone in DC you can walk out the door and catch the Metro home.”

  “It’s just as easy to walk out on a date around here. If you get a bad feeling you should leave, wherever you are. As long as you don’t skip out on the bill or are stuck for transportation.” He gave her a slow grin.

  What was her friend thinking? Laura Bay had been in the Command Center in Houston. She knew that Evi1Geni-us had seen Yael’s face. But she also knew Shane was with HRT. Was she playing matchmaker? If so, why? Did Yael have trouble finding dates? He found that hard to believe.

  Laura could also be the leak, along with the young guy who’d acted as her shadow in Texas. But Yael was the one who’d missed the fact the feed was delayed until it had effectively been too late. She was the computer expert who Evi1Geni-us had hacked.

  By befriending Yael, he would hopefully keep abreast of the cyber aspect of the investigation and, in the meantime, he could help keep an eye on her safety because he was concerned that if she was an innocent, she was in danger. There was really no downside to his plan.

  He glanced at her again. The woman had a mass of glossy midnight hair that she kept pulled back in a sensible ponytail and intelligent eyes the color of coffee beans. Except for the tiredness pulling at her mouth and the shadows beneath her eyes, she was a knockout.

  The thought of that psychopath targeting her made Shane’s fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel.

  “Do you use dating apps?” Yael’s expression was curious.

  He grimaced. “I used them in the past. When I was in the Army. I stopped when I joined Special Forces.”

  A smile tugged her lips. “I guess it’s easy to find a date when you’re Special Forces.”

  He flashed her a tight smile. “The rules about Fight Club…”

  “No one talks about Fight Club.” She spread her fingers wide and rested her palms on her skinny jeans. Her nails were painted a pale blue. She had a tattoo on her inner wrist he was dying to get a better look at. “I gave up on online dating years ago. I get a little obsessive with running background checks and worried I might get caught hacking police databases. Plus, I never met anyone particularly compatible and there are some real creeps out there.”

  He bristled at the thought of what those creeps might have done to make her so leery. Cleared his throat. “Dating strangers is always a risk.” Intimacy was always a risk. “It pays to be careful.”

  Her eyes hit his. “Yet you persuaded me to get into your truck.”

  He checked his mirrors and took a left turn away from her home address. Her eyes widened in alarm.

  “Firstly, I’m not a stranger. You know that I’m a member of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. Secondly, my teammates saw me leave shortly after you did. If you disappeared or wound up—” he cut himself off. “Anyway, you can trust me and you can trust them. We are the good guys.”

  She turned toward him, back pressed against the door as she asked, “So why aren’t we heading straight to my place?”

  He was glad she had a good grip on the town’s geography even though she’d only recently moved here. He checked his mirrors again and took another left.

  “You’re making sure no one is following us.” She relaxed as the words rushed out and pressed her hand to her chest. “See, this is why I don’t date people I don’t already know. Or hook up with strangers. People are crazy.”

  She really didn’t trust easily. Which made his mission more difficult, but not impossible. He liked a challenge. “Not all of us.”

  The sound of her laugh raced unexpectedly down his spine. “Oh, please. You guys are crazier than most. You jump out of airplanes and helicopters and go after bad guys when the rest of us run and hide.”

  “We’re US law enforcement’s only full-time counterterrorism unit,” he said quietly. “We train non-stop so we can do our jobs as safely as possible. We’re not reckless crazy. We’re prepared crazy.” He raised his broken arm in annoyance. “Which is why snapping this when helping someone down a few stairs is so damn annoying.”

  She flinched slightly. “That fall probably saved your life.”

  A wave of guilt and grief washed over him.

  “It wouldn’t have happened to me.” He’d have set the blasting caps on the wall or noticed the strange quiet and known something was off. It wasn’t Scotty’s fault. He’d been filling in for Shane. It was Shane’s job.

  “As I said. You’re all batshit.” She turned away again and the sound of rubber over asphalt was the only noise in the cab.

  Maybe they were all batshit but the operator mindset was one of invincibility—that bad things wouldn’t happen to them. That’s why they practiced all the damn time, which made being outwitted by some sadistic computer jockey all the more infuriating.

  They neared her place and he took a right instead of a left and then pulled a U-turn and sat at the side of road with the lights killed watching the guard in his cubicle and observing the light traffic on the main road.

  They sat in silence. The only sound was that of the engine cooling and the occasional car passing by. The townhouse complex was gated but Shane knew the security wasn’t foolproof. He could definitely break in if he wanted.

  “Do you carry a firearm?”

  Yael hunched into her jacket. “I don’t like guns.”

  He turned in the seat. “Guns are simply tools.”

  “Yeah.” She raised her hand as if to ward off his argument. “So are chainsaws and I don’t carry one of those around either.”

  He watched her. She appeared genuinely agitated by the idea of a firearm. He wanted to get close to her, to get her on side, so arguing about this likely wasn’t the wisest course of action. He started the engine and, now that he was satisfied no one was following them, headed to the guard post. Once Yael flashed her
ID, they were through.

  Minimal security, although it was better than nothing. Sort of.

  He drove around the curve in the road and pulled up in her empty driveway. “I could teach you some self-defense moves.”

  Her head shot up. Her eyes went wide.

  “Not tonight.” From her startled expression she definitely thought it was a come-on and he felt a little stab of disappointment that the idea freaked her out so much. It was obvious they shared some level of attraction and he wasn’t completely hideous and had good southern manners his grandmother had ingrained in him from the day he was born. “I’m off this weekend. I can teach you some basic moves if you want. The weak points on any man.”

  She raised an unimpressed brow.

  “Not only the groin area—the eyes, the throat, the knees.”

  She pulled her purse up off the floor and hugged it to her chest. “I’m good. My boss offered to train me.”

  Shane had heard of Alex Parker. Knew he had a good rep. Rumor was he’d once worked covert ops for the CIA.

  “Doesn’t hurt to practice. Give me your phone.”

  She drew back with a reluctant laugh. “What?”

  He held out his hand. “Go on. Give me your cell.”

  With a sigh she unlocked the screen and handed it over.

  He entered his personal cell number. “Now if you change your mind or have any trouble, you have someone local to call. Someone who isn’t your boss.” He handed it back. “And you can always delete it.”

  She slipped the cell into her jeans pocket. “I won’t call you.”

  “Wait,” he said sharply.

  “What?”

  He’d startled her again. He got out of the truck and jogged around the front. Opened her door and offered her his good hand. She frowned and tentatively took his fingers in hers, her expression clearly saying she thought he had a screw loose.

  There was that electricity again, that zap, that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. She quickly withdrew her hand. She was spooked and he could respect that. He walked her to her front door. Watched her unlock it and disarm the surprisingly sophisticated alarm system.