“We may get to be the point where we need fresh brainpower,” Josh said. “What about on your end?”
Reese patted the gun tucked in his shoulder holster. “For now, I’ve got this end covered. If we get any movement, that’ll be a different story.”
There wasn’t much chance of CT finding them at the house, but Mitch still felt uneasy. Who else could he trust? Cat for sure, but she was out of commission. Joey? Yeah, but he was more of a tech guy. A smart, muscular techie, but still a support agent who spent a lot of time behind a desk and on workshop presentations around the country instead of an in-the-field agent like himself.
“Who else could we pull in to the team if needed?” Mitch asked.
“Stealth just got off an assignment, but I left him in Florida with Cat.” Josh grinned. “He’ll get her back to St. Louis once she can travel. May have to be by car instead of flying. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Let’s hope they don’t kill each other before then.” Mitch couldn’t help but laugh. “Remember when she put him on the floor at that defensive move exhibit? I thought he’d bust a gut trying to get up before anyone saw him on the ground.”
“As I recall, she didn’t even see him move before he had her pinned against the wall.”
Clicking his tongue, Reese rolled his shoulders. “I worked with Stealth in South America. He is one hard-ass guy. Picturing Cat and him, in a car, for close to eighteen hours… That’s gonna be a long, long trip.”
Mitch laid his gun next to the keyboard. “We’ll need to—
A second later, he slid his hand to cover the gun and motioned for the men to be quiet. What had he heard? A clink? A thud? A door closing? Footsteps on the stairs? What? He pulled his gun in front of his chest, resting it on the edge of the desk.
“I think someone’s moving around downstairs,” Mitch mouthed with barely a whisper as he got to his feet.
Another sound. Something like a stifled pinch of pain echoed from downstairs, up the stairway, and into his open doorway to the hall.
Racing out of his bedroom, he crouched low, hugging the wall as tightly as he clutched his gun. Should he alert Liz? Set up his perimeter at her door? No. Right now, he had a clear lead on the intruder. Other movement might put him on the defense.
Slowly, he inched down the stairs. Heard muffled footsteps. Saw a flash of light turned on. He inched farther down. Darkness flashed as the switch was evidently thrown off, leaving only the kitchen’s nightlight casting a slight glow.
The footsteps headed toward him. A loud pop cut through the air.
Mitch jumped the railing. Landed, rolled twice, stood, and aimed his weapon. “Stay right where—”
Liz’s terrified expression greeted his aim as she sucked in a panicked breath. Caught in the glow of the nightlight, she scrunched her arms against her sides, shielding her chest by holding her hands in front of her, one of which held a chocolate milk.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Her shaky voice matched the tremble of her body.
“I heard a sound. Thought it might be CT.”
She flipped on the overhead light, which illuminated her hair dripping wet. Her oversized sleep shirt skimmed more than halfway up her thighs. “Do I look like CT?”
Redundant question. No need for an answer. He was the one who needed answers. And, to keep his eyes on her face. “What was the loud pop I heard?”
Liz bent and retrieved a bag from the floor. “I dropped my cookies.”
His eyes zoomed back and forth between her and the bag of chocolate chip cookies in her hand. “What are you doing down here by yourself? I told you to let me know if you left from upstairs.”
“I knocked on your connecting door, but you didn’t answer. So, I opened it a crack and told you I was going downstairs. Even asked if you wanted anything.”
“Well, I didn’t hear you.”
“Really? Because you said ‘no’.” She did that whole cock of the hip that women did when they wanted to make a point. “And don’t you go all ballistic on me. When we were in the kitchen earlier, you said that if I needed anything else to… Get. It. Myself.”
The side door slammed open, and she screamed as she dropped the bag again. Plus the bottle of milk this time.
Pounding footsteps raced toward them as Mitch spun to face the attack.
CT had moved in fast. Faster than he’d imagined possible.
No Kevlar to protect him. None for his client. He’d trained for this day. Knew it would come. He stepped in front of her, his gun aimed level at the approaching danger. Whoever rounded that corner was a dead man. After that, it was anybody’s guess.
