Page 17 of Fatal Mistake
She grabbed a rubber band at her wrist and snapped it. One. Two. Three times. Her gaze shot around the space and panic lodged in her eyes as it had that horrible night three months ago.
Memories often faded over time, but that one hadn’t left Cal’s mind. He could see her stomach ripped open, a silent plea for help as she bled out. He remembered pressing the gauze. The blood seeping through his fingers. Her tortured groans as he hoofed it through the woods, her body cradled in his arms. The pain on her face as she gazed up at him, then looking like an injured puppy in the hospital, and he’d wanted to take her home. Care for her. Vanquish this man who had shot her and left her for dead. To bring back her old life, follow this unwelcome interest in her and maybe be a part of that life.
And that’s where this crazy thinking had to end.
He shouldn’t have let even a hint of his attraction gain a foothold in his mind, let alone allow the thoughts to take as much space as they already did.
She was an integral part of his investigation. The key to locating Keeler. The man who’d killed seven women so far. Seven! And Cal had been powerless to stop him like the day he’d been powerless to save the young boy cradled in his arms.
Cal had failed them all.
Guilt pressed in from all sides, and he shook his head to clear his mind. He couldn’t be thinking about the past. About Tara like this. He had to focus.
He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—do anything to jeopardize his hunt for the Lone Wolf.
Chapter 7
Tara tuned out Agent Riggins’s continued attempts to convince her to accompany him back to D.C. She avoided looking at his ruggedly handsome face and peered at his suit that fit the wide planes of his chest and shoulders like a glove. Pricey, she thought, as were the loafers polished to military precision.
Odd that he’d chosen to wear a suit in the woods, but maybe he thought it would make him seem more intimidating. Or not, as he’d once asked her to call him Cal and that wasn’t intimidating. More likely his way of manipulating her into thinking he was a friend. Well, he wasn’t a friend. They had a professional relationship, nothing more, and she’d stick with the formality of calling him Agent Riggins like she’d decided to do at the hospital.
Keeping things strictly business was even more necessary now that he’d proved his agenda was in direct opposition to hers. She wanted to stay alive. He wanted to find Oren, no matter what, even if she got hurt in the process.
Oh, for a moment she’d thought he’d been trying to help her come to grips with her guilt—a brief little inkling in time filled with hope—but then, when he’d brought it all back to finding Oren, poof, her good feelings evaporated.
“You’re not listening,” he said.
His accusatory tone set her teeth on edge. “The five minutes you requested was up long ago.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Then I need your answer.”
She didn’t have one, and until she did, she’d use the opportunity to gain information that she’d craved for the last few months. “Suppose you answer a question for me first.”
He continued to watch her, his eyes guarded. “Go ahead.”
“I’m worried about my aunt June. Oren cares about her, so I don’t think he’ll hurt her, but I need to know if she’s in danger, too.”
“She’s fine. I’ve had a team with her round the clock since you took off.”
Surprise. “I didn’t think the FBI had money for full-time protection like that.”
He averted his gaze and became unnaturally still. A behavior she recognized courtesy of her former fiancé, Nolan, who’d acted the same way when he’d tried to hide things from her.
Exactly what was Agent Riggins hiding? Did it have to do with June?
“Wait,” she said as thoughts popped into her head. “You didn’t put the agents there to watch over June. You did it because you hoped Oren would show up and you could capture him.”
Agent Riggins didn’t answer, and time ticked by, but she held her tongue and waited him out.
“My motives were mixed,” he finally said, but didn’t elaborate. “As they are with you. I need your help, but I don’t want to inflict additional pain on you. I hope you’ll voluntarily accompany me back to Washington.”
After his high-handed behavior, she hadn’t expected his kindness, and it brought to mind his care and compassion as he’d rescued her and held her hand on the chopper ride to the hospital. Since he’d arrived tonight, she’d focused on his negatives. No one was one-sided—well, maybe Nolan had been after his true colors had come out—but she doubted the compassionate agent she’d seen at her rescue was the monster she was making him out to be.
That didn’t mean she was eager to go back to D.C. “What happens if I choose not to go with you?”
He remained motionless for a long moment, then pulled a piece of paper from his interior jacket pocket and handed it to her. She felt his eyes on her as she unfolded the page, but he didn’t have to watch for long. The title of the document showed his intent. She slowly refolded the paper and looked up to find hesitation in his gaze, but she didn’t care what he was thinking. She cared only about the message he’d just sent.
“You have a warrant for my arrest?”
