Superior Collision Page 13

  Her eyes were glued there, because his fingers weren’t sitting right. They had an unnatural curl inward, as if from lack of use. Muscle atrophy.

  As soon as Pompa noticed, he yanked back the hand and put it on his lap. He didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth shot up in a snarl. “You missed something,” he barked.

  Taylor jumped, and forced her eyes to his face. He didn’t continue.

  “What did we miss?” Holman prompted.

  “Rowdy has a foster sister. A few years younger than him. Name’s Cami and she lives somewhere in Arizona, Nevada or New Mexico, but that’s all I know. He lived in all three states as a kid. Not sure about her, though.”

  “Last name?” Taylor cleared her throat again, when her words came out in a croak.

  “Dunno. You’re the mighty FBI, guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

  “Rowdy would go to her?” Holman asked.

  Pompa looked at Taylor, not her partner. “I don’t think he’d want to drag trouble to her door, but Carter doesn’t know about her, so maybe.”

  “Arizona, Nevada or New Mexico? Can’t narrow it more than that?” Taylor asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Rowdy protected her info at all costs. The only reason he told me about her was because he found out about Jared. The rest of our crew never knew that. It was a secret, between him and me.”

  She tried not to wince when he said Manning’s first name but something must’ve shown in her face, because Pompa’s stare didn’t waver, but he lost a little of his hard edge. Like he felt bad for her.

  That should’ve pissed her off, but it just kicked up the guilt swirling in her gut.

  “You should know, I don’t blame you.”

  Taylor wanted to look away. Close her eyes. Stand up. Leave.

  Anything to avoid the dark eyes compelling her to meet them dead on. She sucked in a breath. The mood went from hopeful—when Pompa had shared knowledge about Vargas’ foster sister—to desperate. She just wanted this over, and she definitely didn’t want to talk about that night.

  Holman shot her a glance, then looked back at Pompa. “Okay, I think we’re done here. Thanks for the info. Hopefully we can find Cami. Then your friend. They’ll both need to be protected from Bennett.”

  Great, ’cause I so need my partner to notice me falling apart.

  Pompa once again didn’t acknowledge Holman. “You did what you thought you needed to do. I get that. I wasn’t exactly innocent.”

  Emotion smacked her in the chest and she fought for composure. The urge to flee—one she was very unfamiliar with—was overwhelming. It was hard to breathe.

  She flashed back to that night, but instead of seeing a bloody Pompa lying on the safe house kitchen floor, for some reason she remembered Shannon’s arm around her at the hospital, then him kissing her the other night.

  Focusing on the sergeant helped clear her head, if only a little. Normally, her mixed feelings about Shannon twisted her up, but she needed it—needed him—right now.

  Taylor straightened her shoulders and pushed out painful breaths. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” She meant it. Didn’t look away from Pompa. Some of the pressure lifted from her chest.

  Shock washed over her when all he offered was a curt nod.

  For the first time, Pompa looked at Holman—really looked at him. “I know you.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.

  “I do. You were in LA, last year. Riding with Taz’s crew. You were his tech guy.” Pompa frowned. “Son of a bitch. You were undercover. Fuck. No wonder John introduced us that night.”

  Holman didn’t say anything, but Taylor blanched at the mention of her fiancé’s name.

  Finally, her new partner spoke. “I remember that night.”

  “I remember Taz’s crew all got busted right after that,” Pompa bit out. “You sly SOB. John would’ve made it so we were next, but we went to Oklahoma…”

  Taylor fought the urge to close her eyes. John was killed in Oklahoma.

  Pompa pegged her with another compelling stare. “I always liked John, even after I found out he was FBI. He was a good dude. I’m sorry Carter killed him. I was going to turn myself in with him, save my crew. I didn’t get the chance.”

  To hear Pompa’s candor and sincerity just about slayed her, even if the information had been shared with her before, at least the part about his plans to turn himself in. His brother had ranted about it after she’d shot Pompa.

  Holman rose, saving her. He pounded on the locked door, calling for the guards.

  Taylor’s head reeled and her pulse pounded in her ears until her temples ached.

  The big guard helped Pompa to his feet and handed him his cane.

  The man she’d shot gave her one more look before he let the CO lead him away. “I hope you find Rowdy and keep him safe from Carter. But I won’t weep if you kill Carter. A dark cell is too good for his traitor ass.”

  * * * *

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Taylor jumped at her partner’s voice. “I’m fine,” she snapped, even though he’d sounded genuinely concerned.

  Joe Pompa had let her off the hook. Told her he didn’t blame her.

  So why didn’t she feel better?

  Because I was still wrong.

  Maybe she felt worse. Even Pompa thought she’d acted in defense of her life—survival mode of any trained law enforcement officer.

  “Is the holdup freaking you out now that you’ve had time to think about it? Decompress? It’s only been a few days…” Holman asked.

  Taylor jolted again, but she wanted to thank him for interrupting her headfuck. “No. I’m fine,” she repeated. Didn’t want to add a polite Thanks to the end of her statement, but she should. Wasn’t about to remind him of her three trips to Shrinkville, either. With her luck, Holman would want to compare notes from his own appointments with Doc Wong.

  “Pompa, then? I can imagine it might be off-putting to sit face to face with, let alone question, someone you shot.”

  You have no idea. “What kind of twenty-seven-year-old guy uses the phrase off-putting?” she barked.

  Her partner stilled. Flexed his hands on the steering wheel of her Charger. Then he sighed and looked away.

  She was going to yell at him to be easy on her car, but guilt bit at her. She was all over the place, but it was really all an overreaction. To push him away, when he’d been showing that he gave a crap about her wellbeing, and all she could do was be a bitch.

  Holman had saved her ass—literally—and he’d been great with Pompa, so she should show him some respect. But she couldn’t manage to push I’m sorry past her lips.

  Taylor’s cell phone dinged and she clung to the distraction. Looked away from the man she owed an apology or three to. Not to mention her life.

  Can I see you tonight?

  The simple message had her smiling, despite her trying day. She felt Holman’s eyes on her but didn’t look away from Shannon’s message.

  “Hmm,” he said.

  “What?” she growled.

  “Must’ve been good.”

  “Excuse me?” Taylor frowned.

  “Never seen you smile before.” His tone was conversational, like she’d not been a huge jerk to him a few seconds before.

  She was torn between amusement and irritation. “Since you haven’t known me for very long, I’d say it’s not all that odd.”

  He harrumphed.

  Taylor ignored him and the little flutter in her stomach when she looked back at her phone’s screen. Shannon’s question needed an answer.

  She should say no, stick to what she’d decided. She’d been thinking—well, obsessing—about it since she’d seen him.

  Damn, last Thursday night and their dinner at her fave Italian place felt like a lifetime ago. After the botched interaction in her living room, they’d managed to have a great evening, except for the what is this between us? conversation that’d stumbled out. Discomfort times two, e
ven over delicious lasagna. Taylor had even admitted she enjoyed his company—and that he calmed her. Out loud. To him. While Shannon had grinned about that, she’d wanted to melt into the chair.

  She’d have to talk to him. Tell him where she was at. Despite his interest, and their smoldering kisses, she wasn’t looking for the same thing he was.

  At dinner, he’d told her no pressure, they wouldn’t label it, but his expression had spoken differently. Had spoken of…more.

  She couldn’t handle it.

  They’d seen each other almost every night last week. Then yesterday, he’d met his Dallas cop friend for dinner instead of coming over, and she’d worked late.

  Still, they’d texted before they’d both gone to bed, and she’d missed him. Hadn’t confessed it, though.

  His case had gone to the jury yesterday, so she expected Shannon to tell her he was heading back to Antioch any day now.

  How did she feel about that?

  “How many people take a whole week to smile at someone after they first meet?” Holman’s voice made her jump.

  She wanted to snarl at him to leave her the hell alone so she could focus on what to tell the sergeant. Taylor glared. “Really?”

  “Just sayin’.” His mouth twitched as if he was fighting a smile. Then he did smile, and looked like the kid he was. “See? It’s not that hard. It actually takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked back at her message.

  They hadn’t left the prison until almost four. It was just past five-thirty now. Shannon was probably done with court for the day, and she wouldn’t be back in town until about eight.

  Shannon.

  Taylor found herself wanting to be home. On her couch. Sitting with Shannon Crowley like she had a few nights ago.

  God, where’s my resolve?

  Won’t be home ’til late.

  Taylor fired off the message and held her breath, then chided herself. She wasn’t a school girl with a crush and she wasn’t looking for a relationship—even a casual one. She needed to stick to her plan of No thanks.

  She ignored the voice in the back of her head that reminded her how Shannon made her feel. She liked it, and the three nights they’d spent together. The meals they’d shared.

  Kisses they’d shared.

  Dammit.

  Her contradictory thoughts were enough to make her head spin. Since when had she been wishy-washy?

  What time?

  His answer was fast, distracting her from the chaos in her head.

  Had to go to Texarkana. On the way back now, but it’ll be after eight.

  I can meet you at your place. I’ll even bring cheesecake, if you like.

  Deal. See you there.

  She couldn’t stop from smiling. More like beaming. Her heart skipped, and she felt lighter. Taylor told her inner turmoil to go to hell. No matter what happened, it looked like she needed Shannon Crowley, at least for the night.

  Or was it just the cheesecake?

  Taylor let out a low laugh, and her partner shot her a wide-eyed stare.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  “Shut up, Holman.”

  “Hey, I’m all for whatever you’re doing right now.”

  “How about you mind your own damn business?” She scowled.

  “You got it.” He held his hands up, but one corner of his mouth inched up.

  “Hey, hands on the wheel. How about you just drive? Get us back at a decent hour, huh? Don’t wreck my damn car, or make me regret letting you drive,” she grumbled. She ignored the grin he wore, too.

  He hadn’t known her long enough to have earned the right to give her shit, even if he had saved her ass. At the holdup and with Joe Pompa.

  “Got a hot date or something?” Now he was beaming.

  Taylor opened her mouth to tell him to screw off, but he put his hand up again.

  “No, wait. Lemme guess, that’s in none-of-my-beeswax-territory, right?”

  “Beeswax? What are you, five?”

  Holman chuckled. “I think I like you, Agent Carrigan.”

  “I’d like to say the feeling’s mutual…”

  “Aww, c’mon. I saved you. Doesn’t that get me any cool points?” His tone was light and he flashed another grin.

  She shook her head. At least she hadn’t honestly offended the guy. Come to think of it, she hadn’t teased with a partner since—

  No. Don’t think of John.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. When she met Holman’s gaze, his smile was gone. Great, she’d ruined his good mood, too.

  “I said thank you, but I want you to know I really mean it. Thanks for rushing in and saving the day at the holdup. I…uh, well, it could’ve gone bad.”

  He gave a curt nod, but his expression was sober, lacking the playfulness from moments before.

  Taylor hated to admit she hadn’t minded the teasing. Thank God he hadn’t told her he was just doing his job saving her, either. Somehow, she needed the idea that he gave a shit about her. That he wanted the trust he’d earned. “Thanks for today with Pompa, too. I appreciate how you handled things.”

  Holman was quiet, but he looked thoughtful. “You’re welcome.” His voice was low, as if he sensed she needed a gentle approach. He spared her a glance, and his blue eyes said, You and I are going to be fine.

  She blew out a breath and reclined into the headrest. Taylor couldn’t say the words aloud, but she didn’t disagree.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I don’t want to hear it, Eric.” Cami’s mouth was a hard line, but her green eyes, and the disappointment there—the pain he’d caused—just about massacred him.

  Rowdy sighed and rubbed his hand over his newly shorn hair. Words escaped him. He couldn’t tell her there was almost four hundred grand under her guest bed. Or that he’d been about to leave town with his brand-new-to-him pickup, taking half his money.

  When he and his nephew had entered the apartment, he’d scooped up the letter he’d written for Cami and left on the kitchen counter. It couldn’t be used today, but he didn’t tear it up. Needed to get moving the first chance he could. Tomorrow would be great.

  He didn’t regret picking Devon up from school. He regretted not being able to leave before his sister had gotten home. Rowdy couldn’t have disappointed the kid, either. Besides, he didn’t have anyone to leave him with. He couldn’t dump a six-year-old to fend for himself, even for a few hours. If something happened to Devon, and Rowdy had been at fault… Yeah, he’d never get over it.

  Besides, they’d had an awesome afternoon. Had gone to the park, then come home and played video games. It’d been…normal.

  Rowdy had been right about Cami finding out he’d blown the job interview. It’d only been a matter of time. He was just glad she’d waited until the kid was tucked into bed to confront him.

  Her expression had been stern all evening, all her smiles only for her son. When she’d looked his way, she’d been seething.

  The dude must’ve called her, because Rowdy couldn’t see her checking up on him. She trusted him. Or had, anyway.

  “And why the hell did you shave your head?”

  He cleared his throat. Words still wanted to play hide-and-seek. Talk, dammit. “Listen, I told you I needed to leave.” Rowdy ignored her inquiry about his new hairstyle. Didn’t matter—he couldn’t explain he was trying not to fit his known description.

  She glared. Crossed her arms over her chest. Her mouth was that same flat line, and her eyes narrowed to slits.

  He shook his head. “I told you I couldn’t—”

  “You didn’t tell me. You agreed. So you just lied to me when you agreed to the job interview?” Cami barked.

  Rowdy winced.

  “You said you’d try.” This was softer, but held accusation.

  “I didn’t. You just assu—”

  “You fed me a line of bullshit to shut me up? That’s what you did, Eric. Thanks a lot.” The anger in her expression wavered
and her mouth trembled.

  Fuck. Please don’t cry. He couldn’t take her tears.

  “I can’t stay,” he croaked.

  “Why?” The question came with misty eyes.

  “C’mere.”

  She shook her head, but when Rowdy tugged her into his arms Cami didn’t fight him. She slipped hers around him and squeezed almost too tightly.

  He inhaled the clean scent of her hair—wild berries, mixed with the astringent hospital smell Cami complained she could never get rid of.

  Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on the crown of her head. Rowdy couldn’t tell her everything, but he owed her something to make her understand. Something that might scare her into backing off. So he could get away. “Someone’s after me. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Her big green eyes were wide when she lifted her head. “Then go to the police.”

  “You know I can’t. Every day I’m here, I put you and Devon in more danger. I have to go, Cam.”

  His sister shook her head and pounded her fist into his chest. “No. Stay here. You’re safe here.”

  “I’m not. And neither are you. He will find me.”

  “The guy who shot you?”

  “Yes, but I’m not the only one he shot. He killed four of my friends. One was a girl. He would hurt you without blinking. I have to go.”

  “Eric, what—”

  “No more questions. I can’t do this to you. It’s too great a risk. I can’t have anything happen to you, or Devon. You’re my heart, both of you.”

  She blinked, but tears still fell.

  Rowdy wiped them away, and kissed her forehead. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. There’s a black duffel under the guest bed—it’s yours. You and Devon will want for nothi—”

  “Stop. Just stop. I don’t need your damn thanks.” Her face hardened again, but this time because he’d insulted her. “You’re family. You do for family. You taught me that. And I don’t want your money.” Her bottom lip wobbled and more tears wet her dark skin. “This sounds like a goodbye.” The last sentence was so low Rowdy almost missed it.