“Gabrielle?”
She slid around him.
Penelope was staring at her with wide eyes, and just behind the entertainment reporter, another woman was also watching her. This woman had dark red hair and a sharp gaze.
Gabrielle’s stare swept over the redhead. With that suit, yes, she would’ve instantly pegged the lady as FBI.
“I have some questions for you,” the redhead said.
“What a coincidence,” Gabrielle muttered right back. “I’ve got my share of those, too.”
She didn’t glance at Cooper as she headed for the conference room. There were too many eyes and ears on them at that moment. It would be far better to have this conversation in private.
Penelope tried to follow them back into the conference room, but the FBI agent firmly shut the door—well, pretty much in the other woman’s face.
Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t catch your name,” she said to the lady.
“Noelle Evers.” Noelle offered her a brief smile as she marched toward the conference table. Some folders and a notepad were already spread out there. “And I’m here to learn more about your recent phone call with—”
“The D.C. Striker?” Gabrielle finished for her.
“If that’s what you want to call him,” Noelle agreed, but she didn’t sound impressed with the name.
“She’s a profiler,” Cooper said as he took the seat near Noelle. “She’s here to help the cops catch this guy.”
Gabrielle still stood. Her knees had locked on her, so she wasn’t even sure that she could sit. “Have the two of you met before?” Suspicion made her ask that question.
And then it happened. Cooper immediately said, “No,” but the agent’s eyelids jerked, just a little bit. Noelle glanced quickly at Cooper, then away.
Gabrielle’s back teeth clenched. A profiler should learn to be better at hiding her emotions.
But that little tell had convinced Gabrielle that she had to press a bit more. “It’s all about the EOD.”
No emotion crossed Cooper’s face. Oh, so that’s when he does that. The emotion vanished each time he kept a secret from her.
“I don’t think I understand,” Noelle began carefully. She motioned to the nearby chair. “Why don’t you sit down? Then we can really talk.”
Gabrielle felt like they were talking just fine. It wasn’t like sitting improved a conversation. “Why isn’t Detective Carmichael with you? If you’re here investigating the killer, shouldn’t the local cops be helping you?” But Lane hadn’t even given her a heads-up about the profiler.
The whole scene felt wrong. Gabrielle wasn’t going to ignore her instincts any longer.
Noelle glanced over at Cooper once more. What is she doing? It almost looked as if the profiler were waiting to follow Cooper’s lead.
Cooper was staring straight back at Gabrielle. A faint furrow dipped between his brows.
“Right now,” Noelle finally said, “the FBI is assisting the local authorities. It may become necessary for us to take over the investigation, but at this point, I’m just attempting to gather more data about our suspect.”
The answer was smooth, and it sounded rehearsed.
“What did the suspect say, exactly, when he called you, Ms. Harper?” the profiler wanted to know.
“He told me not to trust Cooper. The guy said that Cooper wasn’t who I thought.”
There was still no expression in his eyes.
“He told me,” Gabrielle continued, her chest aching now as she realized that she’d been played by a master, “that if I wasn’t careful, I’d trust the wrong man and I’d wind up dead.”
Cooper surged to his feet. “Gabrielle—”
“You’re EOD.” It made sense. So much sense and she felt herself flush. “That’s why Van’s last message was erased at the crime scene. You smeared the blood deliberately, didn’t you? To keep your organization quiet. You destroyed evidence.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw.
But he didn’t deny being EOD. She’d actually expected a denial.
“I think—” Noelle spoke softly as she pulled her files a bit closer “—that we all need to calm down.”
“I’m completely calm,” Gabrielle said. She was. An eerie calm that she hadn’t expected had settled over her.
Gabrielle pulled out her phone. She held it gripped in her hand. She tilted her head as she studied the profiler. “If I call Detective Carmichael right now, is he going to back up your story? Is he going to even know who you are?”
Noelle hesitated.
That was Gabrielle’s answer. “He’s not, because you aren’t working with the local cops. They aren’t the ones who sent you to me.” She rolled back her shoulders and forced herself to meet Cooper’s stare. “The team that you had searching my apartment—they were from the EOD, weren’t they? This guy, this fellow doing the killing, he’s one of your agents.”
Cooper didn’t speak, neither confirming nor denying her charge.
She’d wanted a denial. Crazy, of course, but she’d wanted one.
A woman didn’t like to be that wrong about her lover.
She was.
Gabrielle retreated from him and the FBI agent.
Noelle rose. “I really need to ask you more questions. It’s imperative that I learn as much about this man as I can.”
So that the EOD could catch one of their own?
“He’s fixated on you,” Noelle continued, as Gabrielle took another step back. “The fact that he’s contacting you gives us an advantage. It means—”
“—that you think you can use me as some kind of bait.” Her blinders were definitely off. No wonder Cooper had agreed to be her partner. He was letting her rush out and try to draw the killer’s attention.
She’d been live bait in the EOD’s trap, and she hadn’t even realized it.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Gabrielle spun away and yanked open the door.
“Gabrielle!” Cooper called after her.
Her eyes were tearing up. Knowing that she’d just been a means to an end for him hurt.
“Gabrielle? Are you okay?” Penelope asked as she hurried toward her.
“I need to get away,” she whispered back.
Penelope handed her a pair of keys. “My car’s in the lot.”
Then Penelope pushed her away—and rushed toward the conference room door. “Is it my turn for questions? Because I’ve got tons....”
Penelope was buying her some time by being a distraction. Perfect. Gabrielle gave up trying to look in control—the eerie calm had totally fled. She rushed for the elevator.
Once she slipped inside, she risked a glanced back and saw Cooper prying himself out of Penelope’s grip.
There was emotion on his face right then.
Rage.
The doors slid closed, and Gabrielle sucked in a deep breath.
It looked like the killer had been right about Cooper.
* * *
THE BLUE CONVERTIBLE squealed out of the lot just as Cooper reached the parking garage. Damn it, damn it, damn it! That interview had gone horribly wrong.
And now Gabrielle was just gone.
How had she found out about him?
He yanked out his phone. Waited with gritted teeth as the phone rang once, twice, then— “What’s wrong?” Dylan Foxx demanded.
What wasn’t? A killer was on the loose. The SOB seemed to be going right after Gabrielle, and now, his lover of less than four hours—four hours!—had just run from him as if he were the very devil.
To her, maybe he was. So much for playing the role of the white knight.
“We need containment,” he said, though he hated to utter those words. But there wasn’t a choice. He couldn’t let Gabriel
le run from him.
Someone had tipped her off about him. He had to find out just how much she knew.
With the killer targeting her, Gabrielle couldn’t just vanish.
He wouldn’t let her.
“Gabrielle’s on the move,” he said, aware that his voice snapped with fury. “Heading west from the Inquisitor, driving a blue convertible.” He gave Dylan the license plate number.
“Are you sure containment is what you want?” Dylan asked, his tone guarded.
“Those were my orders.” If he’d become compromised, if Gabrielle was put in too much danger...
He swallowed and tried to choke back the emotions filling him. “Make sure, absolutely sure, that no one hurts her in any way.”
He didn’t want her to be hurt. He didn’t want her to be afraid.
But, judging by the way she’d looked at him just before those elevator doors closed, Gabrielle was already both hurt and afraid.
She’s scared of me.
Because she’d learned the truth about him.
He was just as much of a killer as the D.C. Striker.
* * *
WHERE WAS SHE supposed to go? Back to the brownstone? Retreating to that place really wasn’t an option because Cooper lived there, too.
And she couldn’t go back to work—he was already waiting back at the Inquisitor. Scratch that safe spot from her list.
But she also just couldn’t drive aimlessly around the city all night.
Gabrielle braked to a stop at a red light. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw a pair of headlights approaching.
The red light changed. She turned left.
So did the car behind her.
Gabrielle took a right turn.
The car turned right.
Her fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel.
She accelerated. That car accelerated, too.
Fear began to thicken within her. Fury had driven her away from Cooper, and she’d foolishly ignored the threats around her. Gabrielle couldn’t ignore those threats any longer.
Is it the killer? He’d been watching her before. Had he seen her leave the Inquisitor? Without Cooper at her side, the killer might think this was the perfect time for him to strike.
She fumbled and yanked out her phone. For an instant, she thought about calling Cooper.
But, instead, her index finger pushed the button to connect her to Lane. She held her breath. Another red light was up ahead. The light went green. Good. No stopping.
And Lane wasn’t answering. Where the heck was he when she needed him?
The green light had turned yellow. In a flash, it went red. She didn’t stop. She rushed forward and ran that light.
A horn blared as a truck came right at her. Screaming, she yanked the wheel to the side even as she slammed on the brakes.
The truck missed her by only inches.
Her breath heaved out. She’d dropped her phone. She fumbled, trying to find it.
Someone rapped on her window. “Ma’am?” A woman’s voice called. “Ma’am, are you are all right?”
Gabrielle rolled down her window. “Yes, sorry, I—”
The woman wasn’t alone. A man stood behind her. His posture was stiff, guarded, and when he shifted his stance a bit, she saw the holster under his arm.
“I’m afraid that you have to come with us, Ms. Harper.” The woman’s voice wasn’t so concerned any longer. It was authoritative and flat.
The truck that had nearly hit Gabrielle moments before had also come to a stop. Two more men were climbing from that vehicle. They headed toward her.
“You’re EOD,” she said, understanding as a chill seemed to settle over her body.
The woman stared back at her. “There are two ways to do this,” the woman said, voice soft.
“Let me guess,” Gabrielle muttered as she climbed from the car. “Easy and hard?”
A nod.
The armed man came closer to Gabrielle. The light from the streetlamp glinted off his dark hair. “No one’s going to hurt you, ma’am,” he assured her. “We’re here for your protection.” He smiled at her and offered his hand. “My name’s Deuce.”
Hesitant now, she reached for that hand. “No way is Deuce your real name...”
He yanked her forward. His left hand came up in an instant. Too late, she saw the handcuffs. Before she could jerk away from him, one cuff snapped over her wrist.
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed softly as he pulled her into his arms. “It’s a name for second chances. Maybe you’ll give old Cooper one of those chances when this mess is over.”
Then she was pretty much dragged into the waiting car. The doors slammed behind her, and the vehicle raced away.
Anger pulsed through her with every mile that passed.
Second chance? Hell, no.
* * *
COOPER SHOVED OPEN the door to Bruce Mercer’s office. “Where is she?” The door banged against the wall behind him. Judith Rogers, Mercer’s assistant, let out a screech as she tried to jerk him back.
“I told you, Marshall,” Judith snapped, sounding as furious as Cooper felt, “the boss is working! You can’t just barge in there!”
Yeah, he could. He had.
Mercer glanced up from his computer. “If you’re referring to Gabrielle Harper, she’s here, of course. Where else would she be? Especially since you’re the one who told us to pick her up.”
Cooper’s hands fisted. “I want to see her.” He ignored Judith’s attempts to pull him back. For a small woman, she was surprisingly strong. Just not strong enough.
Mercer glanced at his assistant. “It’s okay, Judith. I needed to talk with Cooper anyway.”
“Yes, well,” Judith stopped trying to drag Cooper out and she gave an annoyed sniff, “he needs to learn how to not barge into an office.”
She stomped away and slammed the door quite loudly on her way out.
Cooper didn’t move. “Gabrielle.” Ordering that containment on her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He knew she had to be furious, had to feel betrayed. He needed to get to her and try to explain what was happening.
“We have her on the fourth floor.”
His eyes widened. They had prisoner rooms on that floor. “Tell me that she’s not—”
“Easy.” Mercer lifted his hands. “She’s just in an interrogation room. Deuce is guarding the door.”
Guarding the door? Right. More like he was guarding her in order to make sure that Gabrielle didn’t try to escape.
“We don’t have a lot of options here,” Mercer said with a shake of his head. “I can’t have a reporter exposing the EOD.”
Cooper tried to keep his control in place. Hard, when he already knew it had fractured. Actually, his control had been weakening since the first moment he’d met Gabrielle. “Let me talk to her.”
Mercer’s brows rose. “Are you so sure she will want to talk with you? I think your charm might have run its course with the reporter.”
The fractures grew deeper. “I shouldn’t have made that a request,” Cooper threw back. “I should have said...I’m talking to her.”
Mercer stood then. He wasn’t quite as tall as Cooper, and even though Mercer had to be pushing his late fifties, he was still in top shape. “I think you’re forgetting a few things, Agent Marshall,” Mercer told him.
“I’m not forgetting anything.” He wasn’t going to let the EOD hurt Gabrielle.
“Yes, you are.” Mercer marched around the desk and came toward him. “It was the EOD who saved your hide in Afghanistan. My team who pulled you out. Otherwise, you really would have been dead. We went there to find you when you were being held captive. We got you out.”
“So now I owe you.” But
what about Gabrielle? He owed her, so much.
She’s changed me.
Mercer’s eyes were narrowed as he studied Cooper. “You’re not the same agent anymore.”
He didn’t want to argue with Mercer. He just wanted to get down to the fourth floor.
Mercer sighed. “You can all fall so fast, and you don’t even see the danger until it’s too late.”
“She’s not a danger. I can convince her to keep the news about the EOD quiet. Let me talk to her, explain things—” She’d been running away before. He hadn’t known where she was going. He’d been worried that she might have other contacts in the press that she would talk with about her new discoveries.
He’d also been worried that the rogue would get her. Fear had burned like acid within him. Cooper hadn’t been able to stand the thought that Gabrielle was in the killer’s path, unprotected, vulnerable.
“I think you’re compromised on this one,” Mercer told him bluntly. “You aren’t the best agent for the job.”
“What?” There was no way he’d let Mercer bench him. “I’m the one who’s been monitoring her. I’m the one who kept the EOD out of the news. I’m the one—”
“—who slept with the reporter.”
Every muscle in Cooper’s body locked down. “How the hell do you know that?”
“You think that you were the only agent I had keeping tabs on her? Deuce has been watching her place. My agents always have backup close by.”
“Then I guess he got a real eyeful.” His control wasn’t fracturing. It was splintering.
While Mercer was his same old cold self. “Emotions cloud judgment. I know what I’m talking about here.”
“You mean your daughter?” They were alone, so Cooper decided to cut right to the chase. He’d worked closely with Mercer before, and he knew the man’s secrets. “You let your love for Cassidy compromise you—and you nearly got her killed.”
“I did get my wife killed,” Mercer shocked him by saying. Grief flickered in his eyes. “And when I realized how dangerous I was to those closest to me, I backed the hell off.” Mercer’s gaze turned shuttered once more as it drifted over Cooper’s face. “I backed away from the only family that I had left because I wanted to protect them.”