chapter Fifteen
Noelle stumbled back farther, and J.D. held her against his solid chest. When hadn’t he been there for her in the past few days?
A selfish thought skimmed across her mind—now they’ll leave me alone. She didn’t allow that thought to take root. As crazy as it sounded to her, the theft of her laptop had serious consequences for her country. This transcended her petty issues and even her safety.
If the plans were even on the laptop. She and J.D. didn’t know for sure and neither did Zendaris.
“I’m so sorry, Noelle. I know you kept a lot of ideas for your art on there.” Now in the role of comforter, Tara sniffled and patted Noelle’s arm. “I-is there any chance you have one of those backup services?”
J.D. tightened his grip on her shoulders, but Noelle had to disappoint him. That would’ve solved their problem if they could’ve retrieved those plans from a backup server. Is that why Abby hadn’t recommended one along with all her other security recommendations?
“I don’t have one of those services. But don’t worry, Tara.” She straightened the back that might no longer have a target on it. “I backed up a lot of my work on flash drives and CDs. The important thing is that you’re unharmed.”
“The important thing is to nail these thieves.” Sheriff Greavy jerked his thumb toward the open door of his office. “I want a statement from you, Tara, from the beginning. I’m not going to tolerate masked men roaming through Buck Ridge committing armed robbery.”
Noelle squeezed Tara’s hand. “Go ahead. We’ll wait for you at the lodge, and I’ll give you a ride back in the truck to your place. Did Zach ever come out to my ranch to tow your truck?”
“Yeah, he did. Too bad he wasn’t still there when I returned. Those clowns never would’ve tried that stunt if Zach had been there.”
Noelle gave her a tight smile. If Zach had been there at the same time as the clowns, he’d be dead.
J.D. followed her out of the sheriff’s substation and into the frigid air. The pale yellow sun had already disappeared behind the mountains, leaving a biting cold to take over the night.
Their boots crunched the snow in unison, the only sound between them, as they walked toward the Buck Ridge Lodge. The bright lights and warmth of the lobby had them shedding their jackets as soon as they walked through the door.
Chatty skiers and boarders looking for some warmth and atmosphere clustered around the fireplace, so J.D. steered her toward a couple of armchairs in the corner.
Noelle tossed her jacket over the back of the chair and swept the hat from her head before collapsing against the soft cushions. Extending her legs in front of her, she tapped her boots together. “If Abby put those plans on my laptop, Zendaris has them now.”
“How did he know to go after the computer?”
“You’re asking me?” She spun her cap around one hand. “They probably saw your rental missing from the ranch and when they saw Tara pull up in my truck, they figured they hit pay dirt.”
“You think they mistook her for you?”
“Makes sense. We look similar, unlike Bruce and Ted. By the time they realized their error, they’d spotted the laptop, some lightbulbs went off in their heads and they grabbed it.”
“I hope that’s the way it went down.” He chewed on the side of his thumb, deep lines bracketing his mouth.
“You hope? How is that in any way a good scenario?”
J.D. sat forward, wedging his forearms on his thighs. “Because the alternative is that they somehow knew about the laptop, and how could they know about the laptop unless they were bugging us.”
“Bugging us?” Goose bumps raced up her back despite the heat of the room, and she eyed the bag at her feet as if it had just sprouted ears.
“When were we talking about the laptop? In my rental SUV on the way over here.”
“But then they would’ve known Tara had my truck, and they would’ve known I wasn’t in it when she pulled into the ranch.”
“So? They weren’t after you at that point. They figured they’d check the truck for the laptop and if it wasn’t there, they’d break into your house again while we were gone.”
“And if they put some kind of listening device in your truck, maybe they put a GPS monitor on it at the same time.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know when they would’ve had time to do that. The only time the SUV was out of my sight was when I parked it in front of your house when I brought you home. I think we would’ve noticed a couple of men out front tinkering with my rental car.”
Noelle cleared her throat. “We were busy at the time.”
“You’re right.” He raised a brow in her direction. “During our, uh, interlude, I wouldn’t have noticed a 747 landing in your driveway.”
She pinned her hands between her knees. He’d admitted he’d been totally focused on her while she’d been focused on...a rug. “Then they could’ve done it.”
“I’ll give it a sweep when we get back inside.”
“However they figured out to nab the laptop, I’m so grateful they didn’t hurt Tara. I couldn’t take having three...” She broke off, a flush creeping from her chest to her face under his dark gaze.
“I’m glad Tara’s safe, but this still means Zendaris may have gotten those plans back. And if he did? The U.S. military can say goodbye to one of the most effective weapons we have against terrorists.”
“It’s all supposition, J.D. We have no idea whether or not Abby loaded that file on my laptop.”
“I guess only time will tell.”
“You mean we have to wait until our drone fleet starts mysteriously falling out of the sky?”
“I mean, we’ll know as soon as the threats against you stop.”
That little flare of hope danced in her chest, and she folded her arms across it. Besides, did she really believe J.D. would be hanging around Buck Ridge with her once Zendaris’s men absconded with the plans?
She’d shut him down when he’d been naked, ready and willing to take her for his own. Why would he want to sign up for more of the same? He’d probably be more than happy to go off and chase arms dealers and terrorists in some other part of the world. A warmer part.
Some other woman probably needed saving—one who would more than welcome him in her arms and in her bed.
“Hey.”
He squeezed her knee, and she jumped.
“None of this is your fault. Abby involved you in her scheme when she had no right to drag you into this. According to my buddy Cade Stark, that woman was seven kinds of crazy.”
“And I’m one.” Noelle blinked back the tears. Her vision blurred so that J.D. turned into a dark shape moving into her space.
His warm body squeezed in next to her in the chair, his arm snaking around her shoulders. He pressed his lips against the bandage on her temple. “If you’re crazy, half the people I know are raving lunatics. I don’t know one woman and only a handful of men who could’ve endured what you’ve been through and still be standing, walking, talking and even reasoning like you’ve been. Okay, that sounded kind of sexist, but you know what I mean.”
She allowed her head to drop to his broad shoulder. “When Alex was murdered in front of me, I went into this downward spiral of obsessive-compulsive behavior. My mother was OCD, and I’d had some tendencies over the years, but I think my art saved me. But when Alex died, the guilt was overwhelming.”
“A lot of survivors experience guilt. Hell, it’s a full-time occupation in my business.”
“It was more than survivor’s guilt.” He opened his mouth to protest again, and she placed a finger over his lips. “You don’t understand, J.D. By the time Alex was murdered, I had already asked him for a divorce. I was done with that marriage. We were talking things out. He didn’t want a divorce, and he promised things would be better. Then he died, and I didn’t have to argue with him anymore—and I got life-insurance money.”
His hand slipped to her back and he rubbed circles on her sweater. “A lot of couples fight. A lot of couples get divorced. Just because your husband died at the time you two were having trouble doesn’t make it your fault.”
“It felt like my fault, and the guilt drove me to extraordinary means to try to control my world.”
“But you worked your way out of it.”
She guffawed, half laugh, half sob. “That’s what you call working my way out of it? I’m buck naked with a hot guy who’s doing unbelievably hot things to my body and I’m trying to straighten a rug?”
“It’s not like you weren’t responding to those hot things I was doing to your body.” He chuckled softly in her ear, while his hand crept beneath her sweater and thermal top and flattened against her bare back.
“Because even if your mind was thinking about that ripple in the rug, your body was heating up under my fingers.” Those same fingers walked to the band of her snow pants and thermals and slipped inside to tease the upper curve of her buttocks.
“My lips.” He laid a path of kisses along her hairline.
“My tongue.” His tongue dipped into her ear.
“And my...” He made a slight turn in the chair to press against her thigh.
She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She should be thinking about Zendaris searching through the files on her laptop, but if J.D. could take a break from his spying to tickle her...fancy, she could take a break to savor his attentions.
“Sorry I took so long.”
Noelle opened one eye and even that took a Herculean effort as she tried to shake off the sweet languor that had invaded every cell of her body.
Tara had the good grace to sport two red spots on her cheeks for interrupting. “Or maybe I should’ve taken longer.”
J.D. recovered first, adjusting his position in the chair and crossing one booted ankle over his knee. “How’d it go with Sheriff Greavy? Were you able to give him a better description of the men?”
“No.” She collapsed in the chair recently vacated by J.D. “Honestly, all I remember is the gun pointing in my face. I could describe that in minute detail.”
“I’m so sorry, Tara.” Noelle had found her tongue after losing J.D.’s.
“You have no reason to be sorry. I should be apologizing to you since I couldn’t safeguard your laptop.”
“I can give you a ride back to your ranch in my truck. When’s yours going to be ready?”
“Zach said he could have it for me tomorrow.” Tara curled one leg beneath her. “In all the excitement back at the sheriff’s station, I didn’t get a chance to tell you how sorry I am about your friend. Ted told me about Bruce.”
“It’s terrible. I hope his family can get some answers.”
Tara propped a boot on the table between the two chairs. “I’m not comparing what happened to me today to what happened to your friend, but there’s a lot of bad stuff going on right now. The air is heavy with...portent.”
Noelle nodded as she slipped her hand through the crook of J.D.’s arm.
Tara’s eyes popped. “No clicking tongues or rolling eyes?”
J.D. asked, “What does that mean?”
“I have feelings sometimes. I think it’s my Native American heritage. I’m highly attuned to the universe.” She tapped her chest with a fist. “Usually, Noelle laughs at me, snorts or rolls her eyes, and sometimes she does all three at once. Now you’re agreeing with me?”
“Even I can’t deny there’s something in the air. I can’t feel it like you can, but I can see it happening with my own eyes—J.D.’s accident with the truck, your holdup and, of course, Bruce’s death. I hope it ends soon.” She just might get her wish if Zendaris found the plans on her laptop.
Tara clapped her mittened hands together. “Finally—acknowledgment.”
“Unless you ladies want to eat here or get something to drink, I think we’d better head out before the next storm moves in.”
“Yeah, we’d better get moving.” Tara yawned. “I told Mom I was hung up, didn’t mention a word about the masked gunmen. She’d freak out.”
J.D. eased out of the chair, and Noelle immediately missed the press of his body against hers. How was she going to feel when he walked out of her life forever?
Noelle grabbed her jacket and shook it out. “Did you park by the sheriff’s substation?”
“Yeah. Are you parked there, too?”
“Uh-huh.” Noelle held out her hand. “Keys? I’ll drive.”
Tara hugged her purse to her chest. “Are you sure? Aren’t you still recovering from your concussion and that bump on your head?”
“I’m going to have to drive it from your place to mine anyway, and it’s not like I’m going to go out and play football. I had a concussion. It’s over. Now give me the keys.”
“Is she a hard taskmaster at the ranch, too?” Tara jabbed J.D. with her elbow.
“At the ranch?”
Narrowing her eyes, Tara said, “You know, at the ranch where you’re working?”
“Yeah. Oh, yeah. She keeps me on my toes.”
Tara dropped her gaze to J.D.’s cowboy boots. “Yeah, right.”
“Would you stop grilling J.D. and start walking toward the parking lot?”
Once they hit the parking lot by the sheriff’s substation, Noelle grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her toward the truck parked five spaces from J.D.’s rental SUV.
“I’ll be right behind you all the way,” J.D. called as he slipped into his car.
When they got in the truck and Noelle turned the ignition, Tara turned to her. “What’s really going on between you and J.D.?”
“What do you mean?” Noelle idled at the exit, waiting for J.D.’s headlights to pull up behind them.
“He doesn’t seem like your average ranch hand. Why is he by your side every minute of the day like some kind of protective pit bull?”
“You think he’s being protective?” Noelle pulled onto the road with J.D. trailing after her—just the way she liked it—her pit bull.
“Well, yeah. The way he hovers over you, touches your hand. The way he looks at you, for goodness’ sakes.”
“Maybe he’s just madly in love with me. I have that effect on men.”
“The effect you’ve had on men is as their caretaker. Let’s face it—Alex hitched his star to yours because he knew a good thing when he saw it. But that J.D. is different.”
Was he ever. “In what way?”
Noelle already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear Tara say it. She just wanted someone else to confirm it for her, so she’d know she wasn’t dreaming.
“He’s the caretaker. That man doesn’t need looking after. I think it’s good for you. Maybe you can let go a little bit now.”
“He’s just a hired hand, Tara. We’re not having a relationship.”
“If you say so.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a bag from the pharmacy. “At least I picked up your prescription.”
Tara dropped the bag on the console, and then she zipped her lip for the rest of the ride home, resting her head against the back of her seat and closing her eyes.
Thank God Zendaris’s thugs had been interested in the computer only and hadn’t harmed Tara. Noelle couldn’t take being the cause of one more person’s injuries—or death.
She turned onto Tara’s property and pulled up to the house with J.D. idling behind her. “Are you going to be okay?”
Tara opened the door of the truck and swung around so that her legs dangled toward the running board. “I’m going to hit the tub and soak in some hot water with a glass of wine. You?”
“I just might do the same.”
“Then let J.D. scrub your back.”
“Is that metaphorically speaking?”
“No. I mean let him scrub your back.” She hopped down from the truck and waved.
Noelle watched Tara slip into her house before making a wide turn and leaving the property. J.D.’s headlights burned brightly behind her.
Of course she wouldn’t be asking him to scrub her back. She couldn’t get any more involved with him than she already was. If she came to depend on him in any way, once he left she’d be scrambling to pick up the pieces. And she knew what that meant for her mental well-being.
She turned into her ranch and fear fluttered in her belly. The men who’d been tracking her for over two weeks now had felt comfortable enough coming onto her property and holding her friend at gunpoint. What would stop them from coming back if they wanted to?
Throwing the truck into Park, she glanced in her rearview mirror. J.D. would stop them. J.D. and the fact that they had her laptop and possibly those plans they’d been searching for.
The idea that there were enemies in the world who were actively seeking to destroy America’s capability to strike at them terrified her. Even living in D.C., she didn’t want to know about such things. People like her trusted men and women like J.D. to keep them safe. People like her just didn’t want to know the details of what that involved.
J.D. was by her side when she hit the bottom step of her dismantled porch. She pointed to the plywood. “When are you going to fix this? I should start paying you by the hour, you know.”
“You should start paying me.”
“Did you sweep the SUV for bugs?”
“I didn’t find anything. My guess is they saw your truck with a woman climbing inside, made their move, realized their mistake and then got lucky by noticing the laptop. Now maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be nothing on that laptop but the notes of an artist.”
“Then we’ll all be back to square one—Zendaris believing I know something about the plans and me running from him. When will we all be safe?”
“When Zendaris and every man like him is dead.”
She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the hook. “Are you hungry? I can make something simple.”
“Let me do it. You go relax.”
The hot bath beckoned. Maybe she should try a glass of wine with it. She didn’t plan on taking any medication. She just wanted it for insurance in case the OCD flared up again.
“Maybe I’ll soak in the tub.”
“Good idea. I have a few phone calls to make. I have to give my boss the bad news that I may have lost the plans to Zendaris again.”
“We still don’t know if the plans were even on my laptop. And if they are, will Zendaris’s guys be able to figure out how to locate them? I’m sure Abby didn’t call the file Top Secret Anti-Drone Plans.”
“Believe me, Zendaris may have sent a couple of killers after you to take care of business, but one or both of those killers will also have computer skills, weapons skills, electronics skills. He hires only the best.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe there are that many people out there in the world with the skills and the motivation to do such harm.”
“Hate to burst your bubble, darlin’, but there are.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You go take that bath, and I’ll make my calls. I’ll have some eggs or pasta ready for you when you come out. And, Noelle?”
“Yes?”
“Leave your phone here. If you don’t mind, I’m going to attach a GPS tracking device to it. I don’t want to lose you again.”
She froze. Alex had kept tabs on her, too, but his motivations had been a lot different from J.D.’s. She shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”
She closed the bathroom door and cranked on the faucets in the tub. She dumped some bath salts into the steaming water and then shed her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor.
She dipped a toe in the water first and swirled it around before easing her entire body into the tub. The hot water lapped around her legs, and she slumped farther down to allow the shallow water to warm her chilled skin.
Now that Zendaris had her laptop and possibly the plans he’d been seeking, would Prospero give J.D. orders to find a way to get to Zendaris and retrieve the plans? Was J.D.’s boss giving him those orders right now?
Tomorrow this could all be a bad memory. Both Zendaris and J.D. would be out of her life, and she could get back to the business of sprucing up the ranch.
Maybe now that the dark threat hanging over her no longer existed, she could return to D.C. and leave the ranch to Ted. If he really was clean and sober, he could make a life here, and she could give him that chance. She wanted to give him that chance.
The water had crept up to her shoulders, and she drew her knees up to her chest to cool off. She closed her eyes and cupped puddles of the silky liquid in her hands and dumped them on her knees.
If J.D. disappeared from her life tomorrow, she wanted one night with him before he left—one night to remind her that she was alive and could continue to live without all the guilt weighing her down and restricting her.
If she could make love one night with abandon, she could vanquish all the ghosts that haunted her and the memory of that night in the art gallery when Alex had tried to sacrifice her to save his own life.
She shuddered and slid farther into the warm embrace of the lavender-scented water. She’d never told anyone the details of that night except Dr. Eliason, although the cops had seen it all on the security video.
She’d joined Alex in the gallery at closing time to give him a ride home since they had just one car between them. He’d been running late, as usual, so she’d parked and gone into the gallery. He should’ve secured the back door.
But he hadn’t.
The masked men came through the back, surprising both of them. One of them ordered Alex to open the safe. Instead, Alex got the bright idea of escaping. As he ran for the front doors, the thieves ordered him to stop and trained their guns on him.
Instead of stopping, Alex had grabbed her and held her in front of him as a shield. The gunman killed Alex anyway. As he fell to the ground, he took her with him.
The robbers left her alive—probably figured she’d suffered enough that night since her own husband had tried to use her to protect himself.
So why did the guilt follow her around? Dr. Eliason had told her she’d rationalized Alex’s behavior that night because she’d been the one who’d wanted out of the marriage. As if endangering someone’s life to save your own was just punishment for wanting a divorce.
Sighing, she sat up and the water sluiced off her body. She’d been going over the same stuff for two years—time to put it behind her and move forward. What better way to do that than with a new man—even if that man was hers for only one more day?
She toweled off and slipped into some flannel pajamas. Not the sexiest getup for a seduction, but she didn’t want any game playing between her and J.D. tonight. She wanted him because she wanted him, because she’d missed her chance earlier that day.
She stuck her head out of the bathroom and sniffed the air. The lavender steam mingled with the smell of garlic coming from the kitchen.
She scooped up her clothes from the bathroom and dumped them on the floor of her bedroom. There—she was starting already. She didn’t need to hang up the clothes right away. They’d still be there when she went to bed.
“Something smells good in here.” She joined J.D. in the kitchen, where he had garlic and tomatoes sizzling in a pan of olive oil.
“Nothing fancy. The spaghetti’s almost done.” He tapped a bottle of wine on the counter. “Thought we could use a glass of wine or two if you have a corkscrew.”
“You must’ve read my mind.” She reached around him for the utensil drawer and pulled out a corkscrew.
While she opened the wine, he took the boiling spaghetti off the stove and dumped it into a colander in the sink. They loaded up their plates, grabbed a couple of bowls for salad and headed for the kitchen table.
“Sorry, no time to set the table.”
She poured him a glass of red wine. “Did you talk to Prospero?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I guess we’ll know soon enough if the plans were on the laptop—not that Zendaris will send us an email or anything. So we still need to remain vigilant until we know one way or the other.”
Noelle’s heart did a somersault. Did this mean J.D. would be sticking around?
“If the plans are on my laptop, then I apologize for not thinking of that possibility sooner.”
“Not. Your. Fault.” He clinked his wineglass with hers. “We should’ve figured out that one ourselves. We’re supposed to be the professionals, not you. Abby was a computer whiz. It would make sense she’d hide the plans on a computer. We just never figured she’d relinquish control over those plans by putting them on someone else’s computer. It’s like you said before. You could’ve done anything with that laptop.”
“Yeah, I lost it.” Noelle twirled some spaghetti around her fork, picking up bits of garlic and tomato in the process.
“Bad timing all around. Once it’s safe, are you going to go back to D.C. or hang around here?”
Where will you be?
She stuffed the forkful of spaghetti in her mouth and chewed to keep from blurting out something she’d regret. She swallowed, dabbed her mouth with a napkin and took a sip of wine.
“I might stay here since I took a leave of absence from my job. I’m thinking about turning the ranch over to Ted.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea? He seems kind of unstable.”
“Well, hopefully that’s in the past. Maybe he just needs something and someplace to get stable.”
Her cell phone buzzed beside her on the table, and she glanced at the display. “Speak of the devil, and I mean that in the nicest way.”
She slid the phone toward her and pressed the button to read Ted’s text. “He sent me a picture.”
She brought the phone closer to her face to peer at the image. Blood pounded against the wound on her head and she gripped the edge of the table with one hand as the room spun out of control.
J.D. reached out a hand, knocking over her glass. The wine spread on the white tablecloth like blood.
“Noelle, what is it?”
“They got Ted...and this time they have the right guy.”