“I can’t.” She shook her head. “You need me.”
“I’ll have Hawkeye send someone until you’re ready to come back.”
“Do you really mean it?”
“He does.” Fagan made the promise as she moved forward. “If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home. Someone else will bring your car.”
Fagan was a skilled professional, and she was easy to talk to. There was no one better to debrief a victim of a horrific experience.
“Maybe I’ll finish writing the Ski Bunny story.”
“The first Ski Bunny story,” Elissa corrected.
They both laughed.
After the two women hugged again, Fagan took control, offering plenty of reassuring words and helping Deborah find her purse before ushering her out the patio door.
No doubt the scene on the front porch was still being secured, and Fagan would do her best to ensure Deborah didn’t witness it.
“Can you give me a few minutes?” He filled the kettle and turned it on. “Agent Johnson will stay with you. I want to wrap up a couple of things with Inamorata. Then I’ll be back. And I’ll be yours as long as you want me.”
She nodded and took a seat on a barstool.
He walked to the small circle of people surrounding Inamorata. When she saw him, she nodded, then detached herself from the group.
“Status?”
“Mansfield didn’t make it. GSW.”
Gunshot wound. “Fuck.”
“Appears he leaned past the driver. Had his gun in hand, but not fast enough.”
He raked his hand through his hair wishing he’d sent Rollins to hell while he had the chance. “Delivery driver?”
“Deceased.”
A total, complete goat fuck. “Need this place cleaned up. And the cat taken care of. Bacon every day.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m getting Elissa the hell away from here. I’ll file my report later.”
“The job is done, Commander.”
“It’s just started. And it’s Jacob.”
She smiled. “Good wishes for all your happiness in the future.”
“If you’re a praying woman, pray she’ll have me.”
“I’ll do that.”
A man from the group called out her name. “If you’ll excuse me.” With a nod, she strode off.
Jacob returned to the house, waved Nan Johnson away with a silent thanks, then slid onto the stool next to Elissa. An untouched cup of Earl Grey sat in front of her. “How about we get out of here for a few days?”
She tilted her head quizzically to one side.
“Are you serious?”
He grabbed his phone and pressed the key on the side. “Hey, Lifeguard. Gonna need reservations for two at a cabin in Steamboat Springs. Plenty of privacy.”
“Not my specialty, Commander.”
“I’m sure you can find someone who can help.”
“Believe I can.”
And then he remembered that he’d ordered his truck to be disabled. “And a vehicle. Tell Hawkeye not to be a cheap bastard this time.”
“Already have one ordered—for Inamorata.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind me taking it.”
“Roger that.”
When he slid his phone onto the countertop, Elissa looked at him. “Steamboat?”
“We need to get away. Rest. Maybe have a bottle of wine. On Hawkeye’s tab.”
“A nice bottle?”
“Very nice.” He nodded. He was ready to have her alone, to confess his love, and pray she didn’t turn him down and walk out of his life. “How soon can you be ready?”
Chapter Ten
“This is luxurious.” Elissa turned a slow circle.
Jacob hadn’t just procured a cabin—this was a high-end house, no doubt for world’s elite who traveled to Steamboat to ski.
“I hope you’re pleased.”
As he’d promised, a nice bottle of wine—bubbly, even—was chilling in a silver ice bucket. Nearby was a charcuterie board and plenty of fresh fruits. It was more a honeymoon than an impromptu escape.
“Shall I pour you a glass?”
“Yes. Please.” Or just uncork the bottle and pass it over.
The afternoon had been surreal. From the attacker, to being injured, to watching the Hawkeye Security team in action.
She’d had no idea what she’d been swept up in.
After she video chatted with her parents to prove she was okay, Elissa and Jacob had left the ranch. For most of the drive, she’d been quiet, hardly noticing the scenery as she replayed every single event of the day, and the biggest thing for her was the fear that she might never see Jacob or her parents again. Determinedly she’d refused to allow that to happen. Though she wasn’t a fighter, she summoned the strength that had helped her to leave her ex and the determination that helped her deal with her dad’s cancer, and she’d channeled them into determination to fight back.
After opening the champagne, a label even Jacob said he recognized, he looked across at her. “Are you doing okay?”
“I am now.”
“Now?”
“That we’re here.” With you.
Even though it was summer, Jacob had lit the electric fireplace when they arrived. Despite the size of the place, the atmosphere was cozy. And she had his assurances that it was safe.
The threat was over. Rationally she knew that, but it would take time for life to return to normal.
Jacob had allowed her to listen in to all of his conversation with the Hawkeye team. Rollins had hired hackers to get the information he needed, and the FBI was now working the case. From what Inamorata had learned, Rollins had two of his employees observing the ranch. They knew what time deliveries were made, and noted the frequency of the drone passing overhead. The attack on Mansfield had occurred within sixty seconds of his last-ever radio check-in.
He brought her drink to her. “You really did a phenomenal job, Elissa. I’m damn proud of you.”
“Really?” She accepted the glass.
“Yeah. Really.”
They tapped the rims of their glasses together.
“Look, I know my timing sucks, but relationships aren’t my strong suit—”
“You’re ready for me to leave.” Despite what he’d said over the past few days, in her heart, she knew it would end. Unusual circumstances had thrown them together, and it had upended both of their lives. Having some sort of affair had been predictable.
But just as predictable, they had separate lives. He was a man of the land, and she had a full life in the city with her parents.
“What?” He dragged his free hand through his hair. “Jesus, Elissa. What the fuck? No. How could you think that?”
Dumbfounded, she stared at him.
“It’s the opposite. Entirely.” He put down his glass, untouched. “I started to fall in love with you the first night we scened, when you offered your trust. I didn’t recognize it at first. But this afternoon—” He broke off and looked away.
“Love?”
When he met her gaze again, his face was haunted. “I was scared as fuck that I wouldn’t make it back in time. And I didn’t know how I’d live without you. I’ve found peace with you, in bed, in the way we laugh together. Nothing gives me more joy than your happiness. And then… You asked Deborah about Adele.”