To Die For

"I have to say I'm curious to know the answer as well," Shane said. "Especially after I've gone to all the trouble to a.s.sure Rachel that you're the most trustworthy friend I have. Now would be a h.e.l.l of a time to be wrong about that."

"I a.s.sure you, Shane, that Jones has had nothing but your best interests at heart since you called him," Carrie said defensively. She gave Shane a hard look and squeezed her lover's hand in a rea.s.suring gesture.

"Put the gun away, Rachel," Shane said as he nodded to the woman his best friend had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. "Let's all sit down and talk this out."

Rachel put down the shotgun and took the chair next to Shane. He lounged like he hadn't a care in the world, and she tried to emulate him. The lack of sleep over the past couple of days was beginning to catch up with her, and she found all she wanted to do was climb back into bed.

"I brought the files on the agents you asked for," Jones began and handed over a folder at least three inches thick of papers.

Rachel gave Shane a curious look and waited for him to explain.

"We've already determined that someone in the FBI has been feeding information to Angelo," Shane said. "And more than likely that same agent is responsible for your father's disappearance and the murder of Agent Culver, since only an inside person would know when and where Culver and Dom were meeting. I want you to look through the files of these agents and see if anyone looks familiar to you."

He handed her the file and she flipped back the blue cover with the confidential seal stamped across it. "This could take awhile. I had no idea so many agents had worked on trying to catch my father or any of his men."

"These agents are from all over the country," Shane said. "Not just Chicago. Your father had interests in several states."

Rachel began flipping through the pages and Shane turned his attention toward Agent Layne. "How do you fit in here?" he asked. "Are you IA like Jones or do you have a personal interest in the Valentine case?"

"I've never been a.s.signed to any of the Valentine task forces directly," Carrie said. "I work in the Violent Crimes Unit, so sometimes my cases overlap with the guys in Organized Crime."

"Not many agents would be willing to risk their career for people they've never met."

"I'm not like a lot of agents," she said. "If Jones asks for my help, I'm willing to give it because I trust him. He had to stay in Chicago on an a.s.signment and he needed someone to stock this house with food and extra clothing. I was glad to do whatever I could to help, despite it going against Director's orders. Sometimes the results outweigh the consequences."

Carrie's eyes were pa.s.sionate and her kewpie doll mouth was pressed in a serious line. Shane could tell she meant every word she said and was loyal to Jones. That's all he could ask for his friend. "You picked a good one," Shane said to Wildcat. "Though how you got her to fall in love with you is a mystery."

"What can I say? I have charm to spare," Wildcat said with a shrug. "Maybe I can loan you some. You're not looking your best right now."

"I've been shot and lying in bed unconscious for two days. How the h.e.l.l else am I supposed to look?" Shane turned his attention to Rachel to get her support, but her attention was riveted on the file in front of her.

Shane cursed viciously when he saw the picture of himself in her shaking hands. It was his old FBI photo and the pages attached to it described his job on the Valentine task force. Plain and simple, he'd been the one asked to steady the crosshairs on Rachel's father and pull the trigger if necessary. He thanked G.o.d it hadn't been necessary.

"What is this?" Rachel asked.

Wildcat winced and Carrie looked on with sympathy at the both of them. Shane kept his expression blank and wondered how to begin. He might as well get it over with, he thought. She wasn't going to like the outcome either way.

"When I first joined the Hostage and Rescue Unit I was given your father as a target," Shane said, his throat suddenly dry. "In fact he was my very first target. It was a h.e.l.l of an a.s.signment for someone as new as me to the job."

He remembered the congratulatory slaps on the back and looks of envy from some of his other coworkers. It had made him feel like a king at the time, but now it made him feel like the lowest form of life. His military record had been undisputable, which was why the director had pa.s.sed the file his way.

Shane got up from the table and went to find the makings for coffee. The silence behind him was deafening as he poured dark grounds into the filter and added water. He tried to find his words carefully, but they stuck in his throat. There could be no more secrets between them if he wanted the chance to have a future with Rachel.

Distracted, Shane left the coffee on the counter and returned to his seat next her. "I wasn't pulled onto the team to a.s.sa.s.sinate your father. A sniper is not an a.s.sa.s.sin. That's an important distinction for all of us, and being called to take out a target was never something my unit handled lightly. At the FBI, snipers were called in as a last measure to protect something or someone in imminent danger.

"Intelligence found information that your father had copies of some very important doc.u.ments from Homeland Security and the military. Doc.u.ments involving weapons. Intelligence also told us that Dom had set up a meeting with Lex Torrino out in New Jersey to sell the information for several million dollars. It was common knowledge that Lex had ties to terrorist groups, so it was a matter of national security that he never get his hands on those doc.u.ments. I was set up as a precautionary measure in case the doc.u.ments were in jeopardy of disappearing. My instructions were to take out both targets if it looked like the briefcase was going to be part of a switch or if Lex got too greedy.

"Dom went to meet Lex in a very public train station at rush hour with the briefcase in hand. They each stopped at a kiosk and grabbed a cup of coffee before finding a table. They were getting down to business when an overzealous agent busted in on them before they could make the transaction. Civilians were everywhere and no one could hear orders over the shouts as agents jumped out of their hiding places with guns drawn. I knew it was a blown mission from that moment, but I had to wait for the FBI to officially cancel my contract to kill. It only took them a couple of minutes to get in touch with me. I didn't even stay around to see what happened. My job was done as far as I was concerned. It turned out Intelligence had been wrong and your father's briefcase had a bunch of real estate papers inside and Dom was going to sell Lex some property he owned in New Jersey."

Even now Shane knew he'd just been doing his job and felt no remorse for what he'd always considered an important service for his country. "It was just a job," Shane said. "One of many I was given over the years. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"If it had come down to it," Rachel asked. "Would you have killed him?"

Shane only hesitated for the barest of seconds before he answered.

"Yes."

Rachel pushed back from the table and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door with a finality that scared the h.e.l.l out of Shane. Would there ever be a point in his life where the mistakes of his past would stop coming back to haunt him?

Shane went back to the coffee pot and poured himself a large mug of the

"Let me talk to her," she said. "She'll understand you did what you had to once she has time to think about it."

Shane didn't answer her, but he heard Carrie's light knock and the squeak of hinges a few seconds later.

"h.e.l.l, Ace," Wildcat said. "This is my fault. I didn't even think about your information being in the file. I just grabbed it from my home office and drove straight here."

"No, it needed to come out. I should have been honest from the start and told her sooner. She might not hate me so much now if I had."

"You love her," Wildcat said, surprised. "I'll be d.a.m.ned."

Shane took his coffee, tossed Wildcat a bottled water because he knew his friend never touched any kind of caffeine and settled back across from him. "I don't know. I want her, but what I feel for Rachel, it's not like it was with Maggie."

"I'd worry more if it was," Wildcat commented. "They're different people. And you've changed since Maggie died. I'm not saying that what you felt for Maggie should ever be replaced, but that doesn't mean it's all that's left out there for you either. You're still alive, my friend. It's time you started acting like it."

"The last few days have made me realize that more than ever. I think I'm starting to feel my age."

Wildcat leaned back his head and laughed. "h.e.l.l, you're only thirty-two. I'm three years older than you, and I'm in the prime of my life. Maybe you need to take some vitamins."

"Yeah, I'm sure that would help," Shane said sarcastically. "Or it could just be the blood loss."

"If you hadn't been sitting behind a desk getting soft for two years, that guy in Tulsa never would have gotten a piece of you."

Shane's only response was a rude hand gesture. "What was the business in Chicago that held you up?" Shane asked. "Does it have to do with Angelo Valentine?"

"You could say that," Jones said. "Christ, this whole thing has been screwed up from the beginning. Angelo's been busy since you and Rachel left New Orleans. Bodies have been was.h.i.+ng up from Lake Michigan on an average of one a day."

"Anyone we know?"

"No, but your girlfriend does. Three days ago a tourist noticed Cleopatra Carlisle floating near Navy Pier with the zoom lens of a camera. The body was fairly fresh, and she'd been dead less than a couple of hours. Death was the standard MO used by Angelo himself-throat sliced to the point that the head was barely attached," Jones said, making a slicing motion across his neck with his finger. "The file on Cleo says she was a close friend of Rachel's. They roomed together at Loyola for four years, and Rachel was her maid of honor last Christmas. The husband was away on business at time of death."

"d.a.m.n," Shane said, ma.s.saging the headache that still pounded behind his eyes. "This is going to be hard on Rachel. She's going to blame herself." He got up and rummaged through one of the drawers until he found the bottle of aspirin. So far it hadn't done anything to relieve the pressure, but he was willing to give it another try.

"Well, it gets worse. The day before yesterday an Agent Jackson Cole washed up about a hundred feet from where the first body was found. Same cause of death as the first victim. He was the new agent in charge of the Valentine case. Word through the office was that Cole had an informer on the inside of Angelo's organization. Apparently Angelo's men aren't too happy with the way things are being run, and there've been a few internal struggles. Director Shaw is mainlining Rolaids and hasn't slept in weeks. His agents keep dying and the higher ups want to know why."

Shane grunted. "Not a good position to be in, for sure. But he's the man in charge, and the leak is in his office, so it's his responsibility. Do you have an idea on the informer in Angelo's organization?"

"Yeah, his name is Sal Lorenzo. He's in the morgue along with Agent Cole, though it took us longer to find all of Lorenzo's body parts. Angelo was sending a message to his other men."

"You said there was another victim who washed up. Who was it?" Shane asked, the feeling in his gut already dreading what Jones was going to tell him.

"Randall Clark III, or Randy as he was known to his friends," Jones said. "He lived across the hall from Rachel for the last several years. According to my sources, they'd dated for a short time and had been briefly engaged their senior year of college before deciding they made better friends than lovers."

Shane's head was reeling. Rachel had been engaged? And now a man she'd been close to and had maybe even loved was dead. How the h.e.l.l was he going to break the news to her?

"Are you going to tell Rachel?" Jones asked. "Or I could do it if you think she'd take it better from me."

"No, I'll tell her."

"Will she be all right? You've gotten to know her better than anyone over the last few days. Our file on her tells us pitifully little."

"From what I've gathered her father tried to keep her out of his business as much as possible. She's led a pretty quiet life up until now, but she's one of the strongest people I've ever met. She'll be okay. But once the news has sunken in about her friends she's going to be out for Angelo's blood. She's not one to sit back and let others take care of problems for her."

"Don't let her do anything stupid," Jones said. "The FBI still wants that list, and it is widely known now that she has the last remaining copy. I wouldn't be surprised if Angelo wasn't the only mobster looking for Rachel."

"Great. I don't suppose you have any ideas how to get her to the bank in Chicago and back out alive? I've gone through several scenarios, but the outcome never seems very favorable."

"I've had a few thoughts on the subject but nothing is set in concrete. Carrie and I need to head back this afternoon. She's got meetings later today. If you'll agree, let me talk to a couple of people and see if we can get some extra help. It never hurts to have backup. I'll also see if we can find the bank president and keep him in a safe place for a couple of days until we figure out when we want to go in."

"Do whatever you need to do. Just make sure the people you tell won't give Rachel's head to Angelo on a silver platter. Do you have an estimate of when you'll be back?"

"No, but you'll be safe here for the time being. We've taken this house off the books, and Carrie and I are the only ones who know you're here. You have plenty of food and extra clothes. Just stay put until I come back for you." Jones stood and Shane did the same. "Will you take some advice?" he asked.

Shane smiled and thought back to the days when Jones was his commanding officer. "Since when do you ask if you can give advice?"

"Good point, so listen up. Don't wait too long to tell that woman you love her. From the way things are going I think it's something she might need to hear. And it's something you, my friend, need to say. Maybe it'll be just the thing to make the nightmares go away."

"How the h.e.l.l do you know about the nightmares?" Shane asked incredulously.

"I work for the FBI. I know everything."

Rachel thought about using the secret exit in the closet and disappearing again. The idea wasn't completely without merit. She could vanish for good this time. Change her hair and get some contacts. She knew who to contact for a pa.s.sport and new ident.i.ty, and she had plenty of cash stashed away in a safe place. Maybe she should just leave the country. And keep in touch with no one. Start over completely with a brand new life.

The knock on the door interrupted her plans of escape and she cursed her indecision. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone.

"Rachel," Carrie said as she came into the room. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. I think this is something best left alone." Rachel lay down on the bed and stretched out her tired muscles. She could fall asleep so easily. All she had to do was close her eyes and drift away, but Carrie had other plans for her. Rachel wasn't in the mood to hear the reasons Shane had chosen the career path he had. And having a woman she barely knew try to explain it made her all the more irritable.

"No one can understand how it feels to be a sniper unless you are one," Carrie said.

"That's just the truth. I don't know what it's like and Jones doesn't know, even as close as he and Shane are. And you don't know."

"No offense, Carrie, but I'm really not in the mood to hear this right now," Rachel said. She didn't like the combination of pity and understanding she saw in the other woman's eyes. Couldn't she just have some time alone to think without someone coming along and judging her?

"No offense taken," Carrie said. "But I'm going to say what I came to say anyway, and it's up to you whether or not you listen. What Shane did while he was in the military and the FBI was so important. It's a job that's easily overlooked and always underappreciated. The job itself takes a powerful toll on the body and mind, and the stress that comes from it isn't comprehensible to people like you and me. Not everyone can cut it, and the good ones only last so long before they start to burn out. And believe me, I've read Shane's file. He was very, very good."

"Believe it or not, I understand that it was his job and he had no control over his a.s.signments. But I can't reconcile what he was to how I was raised. I love my father very much, and now that my whole family is gone it makes hearing something like that even harder."

"But Shane's not to blame," Carrie said.

"I don't know who's to blame," Rachel said. "Only that someone should be. Shane is just wired differently. I don't understand him. He has great compa.s.sion and a need to protect the innocent or those who are weaker, but he doesn't bat an eye at taking lives when given an order. At least with the way things worked in my family, I always knew where everyone stood. Things are more cut and dried than you might imagine in the mob. We celebrated birthdays and weddings and funerals, and when someone was killed their families were taken care of. Does Shane even care that his victims had wives and children?"

"Jones and Shane have been friends a long time," Carrie said. "And from some of the stories I've heard, I can tell you that I think Shane cares too much. He was loyal to his country and to the other men he worked with. Then his wife died and he was left questioning everything he'd stood for his whole life. Everything he'd always believed in. You can't blame a man for his past. We all have things we've done that are better left forgotten. It's the future that counts."

"Yeah, well I don't think we have much of a future," Rachel said.

"You've got to be kidding me," Carrie said with genuine surprise. "That man is completely in love with you. I mean over the moon in love. Open your eyes."

"I think you're wrong. And I understand why he never can be. I've already come to terms with it. He's still hung up on his wife. Still blames himself for her death. How can I compete with a ghost?"

"Just take it from someone who knows how amazing it is to really be in love. Don't give up on the man too soon. Trust me."

Rachel smiled for the first time since they'd been talking. "You and Jones look great together, by the way. Shane's lucky to have friends like you guys. He needs friends like you. I have the feeling he's cut himself off from life for too long."

Rachel got up from the bed and gave Carrie a light hug. "I appreciate you following me in here. I guess I did need to talk about it."

"Yeah, well, I was determined not to give you much of a choice," Carrie said with a smile.

"I guess we should go join the guys and see what we missed."

"We're going to have to leave for awhile," Carrie said. "I've got a meeting with my unit later this afternoon that I can't miss, but we'll be back. I'm sure Jones and Shane have thought of something during their male bonding time out there."

There was a knock at the door and Jones stuck his head in. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," Carrie said and reached for the hand he held out. The naked devotion in each of their faces was enough to make Rachel's eyes sting.

She and Shane walked them to the door and were left alone together once again. The silence between them lay heavy, and Rachel wasn't sure what she should do next. She twisted her fingers together and finally brought her gaze to Shane's. He stared at her with a mixture of emotions she couldn't interpret. Emotions she didn't want to interpret.

"We need to talk, Rachel," he said.

She nodded her head silently and dreaded whatever was to come.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked.

"Maybe we should sit down first," Shane said, reaching for her hand so he could lead her to the small couch in the living room.

"I'm not a child," she said, jerking away. "Whatever it is, I can take it."