Gunning for Trouble

He shoved the door open to survey the damage and check for any sign of life.

Nothing.

He blew out a long breath, trying to drag enough oxygen into his lungs to breathe. It took Caleb another second to realize Avery had never let go of his shirt.

“We’re okay,” Caleb said.

“I can’t believe…” Her voice shook as hard as her body.

Reality came roaring back. This was his life, not hers. She’d held it together, helped him. When everything fell apart around her, she held it together. In that moment, their history didn’t matter.

Knowing it was stupid he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips. Once his lips met her soft mouth, the temptation to linger and relearn the taste of her grabbed him, but he pushed it out of his head. This was about providing comfort only. About giving them a moment to celebrate being alive.

Gunning for Trouble
Helenkay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my mom, Joan Dimon, who loves reading mysteries,

thrillers and romantic suspense as much as I do.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author HelenKay Dimon spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. HelenKay loves hearing from readers, so stop by her website at www.helenkaydimon.com and say hello.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Caleb Mattern —This undercover Recovery Project agent is trying to adjust to involuntary retirement. Having his ex-girlfriend and former boss break into his house changes everything.

Avery Walker —She once made a tough decision she thought was right but ended up losing Caleb. Now she needs his help…and wants another chance to win him back.

Trevor Walters —A highly regarded and very powerful businessman. On the surface he is well connected and plays by the rules. But looks can be deceiving.

Rod Lehman —The missing head of the Recovery Project. His off-the-books investigation into missing women in the Witness Security Program could cost all the Recovery agents their lives.

Russell Ambrose —One of the few people with inside information about the workings of witness protection. So why doesn’t he know what’s happening on his watch?

John Tate —An administrator in the Office of Enforcement Operations at the Justice Department. He decides who gets into witness protection and who doesn’t. The question is about what else he knows.

Vince Ritter —Rod’s former partner. Vince shows up, offering his help to the Recovery agents, but can he be trusted?

Luke Hathaway —The interim head of the Recovery Project. He has vowed to keep his team together, even if it means sending Avery away.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Caleb Mattern’s watch vibrated against his nightstand. The second after the warning alarm went off and the green backlight flashed, he rolled off the mattress fully awake with his hand grabbing for the gun tucked between the bottom of the headboard and his stack of pillows.

Dressed only in a pair of gray boxer briefs, he reached for the watch and stalked in a crouch through his dark bedroom. The curtains were drawn tight, not letting any light seep in and ruin his nightly four hours of sleep. Any brightness and he wouldn’t even get that much.

So, this is how the end would come. Trapped in a one-bedroom condo in his underwear. He smiled at the thought. Or he did until his fingers tightened on the weapon, causing his mind to snap to attention.

Being armed felt right. He could shoot, attack, roll. Do whatever was necessary to stay alive. He’d learned those skills long ago, and being on involuntary leave from the job he loved didn’t change the adrenaline rush.

He stalked around the end of the bed, his feet quiet as they fell against the soft beige carpet. Opening the door to the hall would be more of a challenge. He rigged it every night. If someone got into the place without triggering the alarm, he had backup plans: a loose floorboard just outside the bedroom; a window that opened only two inches before the sirens of hell rang out; a hinge rigged to squeak if the door opened.

And those were just the obvious tricks.

As fast as his fingers could move, he tightened the screw at the top of the door. At the right pressure it would remain silent and he could pull off a stealth maneuver into the hall. But too long in this position and any bullet traveling through the door would hit him right in the gut. Not exactly the way he wanted to go out of this world.

He pulled the door open enough to slip through. Quiet echoed all around him. Other than the low hum of the refrigerator down the hall, nothing else made a sound.

The place was about seven hundred square feet. He liked it small. Made it easier to strategize and attack if needed, and it looked as if tonight called for an ambush. If the intruder so much as breathed, Caleb would be all over him.

Easing into the hallway, he hesitated just long enough for his eyes to fully adjust to the dark. He stepped around the purposely creaky floorboard and headed down the short corridor to the open area. From there he could see every angle of the condo.

A shuffling noise sounded in front of him. His gaze swept over the family room and into the small kitchen area on his left.

Nothing.

Well, nothing at eye level. A quick survey of the floor told him what he needed to know. Not that he could see the intruder. But the guy had made a mistake. The slimmest edge of a canvas bag stuck out from behind the couch. Could be a trap but there were only a few places for someone to spring up from behind Caleb. He had his ankle wedged against the laundry door just in case someone managed to curl up in there and hide. That left the few feet of space between the couch and the television.

The rat-a-tat drumming of energy pounded through Caleb. He didn’t waste one more second waiting to get shot first. He ducked down, using the piece of furniture as a shield. Him on one side and the target on the other. In one smooth move, he launched his body up over the top of the sofa. The first grab turned up only air. He stretched forward on the second lunge, saw a flash of brown hair and then grabbed a shirt collar and pulled back. Caleb shoved his gun into the intruder’s temple just as the screaming started.

He was a she. A very pissed-off she.

Arms and legs thrashed. Books from his coffee table fell to the floor as she kicked out, missing the television by inches. Fingernails scraped against his forearm. When she bit him, he shoved her away. She lost her balance, careening right for the plasma screen but she caught herself in time. She spun around, her eyes wide with shock, chest rising and falling in a rhythm guaranteed to bring on a heart attack.

Identifying the threat almost did it for him. It was as if the blood stammered to a halt in his veins. “Avery?”

“Caleb?”

His muscles burned from the quick diversion from the fight. “Uh, yeah.”

“Why are you sneaking around?”

Avery Walker, former boss and lover. She fired him exactly two years ago next month. He dumped her right after. They’d carefully avoided each other ever since. “That’s my question. It’s four in the morning.”

“I know.”

“And how did you get into my house?”

“I can explain.”

His breathing finally pulled back to near-normal levels. “You bet you will. And while you’re at it, tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I came to talk to you.”

“There’s this new invention called the telephone.” He took in her tight mouth and the white-knuckle grip on the side of his television. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Could you lower the gun?”

Out of habit it was still aimed right for her heart. He dropped his arm to his side but didn’t put the weapon away. Not until he knew what was going on. “Better?”

“Barely.”

He felt the same way. Seeing her ripped through his usual wall of control. The jeans and bulky sweater seemed out of place for someone who spent most of her life in a lab coat. Studying her, he saw the same long brown hair and the huge dark eyes that could drop a man to his knees. She had just turned thirty-four, two years older than him, yet her round face and smooth skin made her look a good ten years younger.

The off-the-charts hotness factor had also made some of her days at Hancock Labs tough. Men talked down to her while they ogled her hourglass figure and tight butt. There were few women there, but the one near the top of the food chain piled menial jobs on top of Avery’s heavy workload as a DNA analyst, as if daring her to fail.

Caleb knew because he watched it all play out. Quietly fought battles on Avery’s behalf without her knowledge. Then she got promoted, the rumors started and everything fell apart.

“You can let go of my television now.” They had enough bad blood between them without adding a couple of thousand dollars’ worth of smashed electronics.

“It’s not what you think.”

He actually had no idea what to think. “Okay.”

“This is an emergency.”

He stared at his front door, but didn’t see any sign of a break-in. “How did you get on this side of the door?”

Her arms slowly fell to her sides as she blew out a long breath. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Try answering any of them. Just pick one and start talking”

“I used the code and this to get in.” She slipped her fingers into her jeans pocket and pulled out a shiny key.

The move stunned him more than seeing her face. “I didn’t live here when we…before…so you sure shouldn’t know my code, though I’m thinking you have an old one since my alarm still went off. And don’t try to tell me I gave you a key, because we both know that’s not true.”

Her chin lifted. “Not to this or any other apartment.”

“Is now the right time for that discussion?”

She threw the key on the couch cushion between them. “You’re the one who’s been running. Not me.”

He refused to take the bait. “So, you decided burglary was the best way to get my attention?”

“Forget that.” She waved her hands in front of her. “I’m not here about us.”

The fact she could dismiss their relationship now as easily as she did two years ago sent his temperature spiking. Had his hand squeezing against the gun until the metal dug into his skin. “What else is there?”

“I had to find you.”

“Why?”

“Rod told me if he ever…”

“Stop.” Caleb stepped around the sofa to stand in front of her. “Rod who?”

She didn’t roll her eyes, but she looked as though she wanted to. “The man you work for. Rod Lehman.”

With his free hand, Caleb wrapped his fingers around her elbow and dragged her even closer, his chest practically resting against hers. He dropped his voice to a whisper just to be safe. “You can’t know about this.”

“About the Recovery Project? About your undercover work?” She tried to wiggle free, but he didn’t ease his grip. “I assure you, I know.”

“Not possible.”

She flattened her palm against his chest, her gaze searching his face as she talked. “Caleb, listen to what I’m telling you.”

The soft touch of her hand burned through him. The feel of skin against skin lit his nerve endings on fire. It had always been that way with her. Despite the fury and betrayal, his body reacted to her nearness.

He stepped back to break the hold, physical and otherwise, she had over him. “This is nuts.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“For what?”

She bent down and grabbed her bag. “I have information for Rod. Where is he?”

Nothing she said made any sense. The Recovery Project was top secret, an off-the-books, quasi-governmental agency that hunted missing people, both those who wanted to stay missing and those who wanted to be found. Or it was until a congressman with a personal vendetta pulled the funding and disbanded the group. Now it functioned as a private, rogue investigative organization.

Rod had always spearheaded Recovery, handpicked its operatives, but he had nothing to do with Caleb’s past. And Avery was most certainly his past. “What do you know about Rod?”

“Like I said, he’s your boss.”

Caleb wanted to shake her, but touching her again was out of the question. “Damn it, Avery. That’s not public information, and I think you know it.”

“He told me if I needed him and couldn’t find him through our usual communication channels—”

“What does that mean?”

“I should come to you.” She sent Caleb that disapproving frown, complete with flat-lined lips. The same look he dredged up from memory whenever he got dangerously close to calling her to talk over old times. Caleb shook his head. “So?”

“I don’t know where he is.”

She went from frowning to sighing, another of her annoying specialties. “This isn’t the time to play super-secretive-operative guy. Rod told me if he ever failed to check in, I should come to you. So, here I am.”

She talked as if she worked for Rod, but that was impossible. Rod was his boss. The man ran Recovery, or he did until he disappeared, leaving behind only cryptic notes about a problem in the Witness Security Program, WitSec.

Caleb shook his head as he tried to make sense of his colliding worlds. “We’re starting this conversation over.”

“No, we’re not.” She pulled her bag over her shoulder as she looked him up and down. “Go get dressed. I have to keep moving.”

“Why?” Caleb barely got the word out when he heard the scraping at the front door. He expected reinforcements, but not from that direction. “Did you relock it?”

“Of course.”

A danger signal flashed in Caleb’s brain. He grabbed Avery by the wrist and pulled her into the small kitchen while the panel on his watch went wild with racing lights. His stare never wavered from the door. He raised the weapon with one hand and reached around Avery to unlock the window behind her with the other.

“Out on the fire escape and then go down. Do not wait or stop until I tell you.” He whispered the command right as the front door shattered off its hinges.

Wood splintered and cracked. A metallic smell mixed with a puff of gray smoke. The too-late alarm screeched inside his condo while the building’s fire alarm kicked to life out in the hall. A gun barrel peeked into the room as the door across the hall opened, only to slam shut again.

Caleb didn’t wait. He turned to the empty space beside him, relieved to see Avery gone, and then slipped out the window. As quiet as possible, he closed the glass behind him. Ignoring the cold air against his bare skin, he started crawling down the metal steps. His feet touching against the cold, he was careful not to slip or make noise to draw the gunman’s attention. Caleb counted on the guy searching the bedroom first. That would be the instinct, to go into the other room, which was exactly why Caleb’s escape route didn’t lead that way.

Police sirens wailed in the distance as the lights flickered and the building came alive with activity. Avery was a floor below him. She kept glancing up but never stopped moving. When she hit the landing two floors down, he banged the gun against the metal railing to get her attention.

She stopped and shrugged her shoulders at him. Only Avery could maintain her offended sense of bossiness in the midst of a crisis.

Some neighbors flooded into the street as others ducked their heads out windows, looking for the source of the noise and confusion. The action made sneaking away to safety even more difficult. Skipping the last few steps, Caleb jumped down, landing on the platform beside Avery and ignoring the feel of whatever was underneath him.

“Why are we stopping?” she asked.

He didn’t take the time to explain. With his hand on her shoulder, he moved her to the side and slipped his fingers between the sill and wall of the window two floors below his condo.

She slapped at his arm. “What if the people are home?”

With a touch of his watch he silenced the alarm for this condo before it could go off and join the others. The window lock clicked open and he raised the glass. “They’re not.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I own this, too. It’s my escape route.” He glanced around but all attention seemed centered on the lobby and the two fire engines pulling up to the curb, instead of the guy in his underwear on the steps.

“Well, of course you own it.” She sat on the frame and then swung her legs inside. “Doesn’t everyone keep two condos in the same building?”

“I don’t remember you being this sarcastic this early in the morning when we dated.”

“At this time of the day sarcasm is all I can manage.” She continued to grumble even as he followed her in side.

“You could try being grateful that I had a contingency plan.”

She stood in the middle of the studio apartment. “Is there a light switch?”

So much for gratitude. “Leave it off for now. The only thing in here is a couch, so you don’t need to worry about tripping and I don’t want you skulking around anyway.”

He walked past her and headed for the front door, trying to block out the emergency evacuation message blaring through the building on an endless loop. The speakers were mounted in the hall, but the beeping followed by the monotone voice instructing occupants to use the stairs and meet in the lobby echoed all through his small space. He’d hear that thundering warning in his sleep. That was, if he ever had the chance to sleep again.

Looking through the peephole, he saw people scurrying in the hallway. Another neighbor simply opened his door, glanced out and then went back inside again. Caleb didn’t care what anyone else did so long as no one tried to come inside.

He reached for his cell and remembered he wasn’t wearing anything more than his underwear. No shoes. No shirt. Certainly no pockets.

“Do you have your phone?” he asked.

When Avery didn’t answer, he turned around. She wasn’t there.

Chapter Two

Avery felt a rush of air behind her right before a hand clamped over her mouth and another slipped around her waist, banding her arms to her sides. A startled scream died in her throat as she was dragged out of the room and deeper into the shadows. The fog cleared from her head just as panic bubbled up from her stomach.

The bare forearm and stone wall of a chest gave away the sex of her attacker. A man. A big man with a grip destined to leave indents on her skin. She kicked out her leg only to have his wrap around hers and lock it back. Her neck straining, she tried to get out a mumble over the shrieking building alarm, anything to warn Caleb.

“Avery, I asked you…” Caleb’s comment faded as he scanned the room and his gaze fell on them. He reached for the switch and the overhead light flickered on.

Despite having her chest compressed and her jaw locked shut by some animal’s fingers, her nerves stopped jumping around. Hearing Caleb’s voice didn’t send her spinning with relief, but it did bring back hope for survival. She knew him as a man who worked in a lab. This side of him, the part that felt at home with a gun and confident while engaging predators, was new to her, even though she always sensed that protective streak lurking beneath everything else. Heck, he didn’t even let the fact he was half-naked stop him.

“Let her go.” He didn’t yell or threaten. Didn’t even raise his weapon.

And that fast, the suffocating hold was gone. Off balance, she listed to the side only to have the attacker’s hand return again, this time to steady her. But it was too late for calm. If Caleb wasn’t going to shoot this guy, she would try to take him down. She turned and raised a fist to knock him into the fridge.

The attacker caught her clenched hand in his but didn’t hurt her. “I don’t think so,” he said.

She tried to think of another way to cause damage. “Who are you?”

“The cavalry.” The man’s amused tone didn’t match the black commando T-shirt or stealth attack. Then again, neither did the boyish dimple or the wire-rimmed glasses.

“He’s with me.” The second Caleb stepped up, the other man dropped her hand. The building alarm shut off right after.

“Thank God. I can hear again.” The man nodded in Caleb’s direction. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

Avery followed the stare as she tried to calm her breathing. Looking at the muscles stretching across Caleb’s bare chest sure didn’t help with that task. He hadn’t gotten soft in their years apart. If anything, he’d gotten more fit. She imagined this is what his body looked like back at the Naval Academy and in the years in the military that followed. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his stomach.

Those broad shoulders brought back memories. They would lie in bed with him hovering over her. She used to love to run her fingers over his skin, dip into the space between his collarbone and his neck, and then up and through his sandy brown hair. The man possessed the sexiest green-gray eyes she had ever seen.

And a stubborn streak that made her head pound.

“You got here fast,” Caleb said to the man who was obviously a friend and not an enemy.

“Always nice when a contingency plan works,” the man said as he stole glances in her direction.

When Caleb didn’t explain what was happening or even bother to act like standing there half-naked after his front door exploded was an odd thing, she took the lead. The way she figured it, she’d tolerated just about enough confusion for one evening. If her heart raced any faster, she was going to pass out. Last thing she needed was the show of male bonding, not with armed guys hunting for them only a few floors above.

She looked up at the stranger. Caleb stood about six feet, but this guy had to be another three or so inches taller, so looking up was her only option. “Who are you?”

Caleb placed a hand against the small of her back. “Avery Walker, this is Adam Wright. We work together.”

Adam nodded his head. “Ma’am.”

“You don’t want to know why I’m with Caleb?”

She saw Adam swallow back a smile. “I figure if you’re here, it’s because he wants you to be. The rest isn’t my business.”

“He’s the computer genius of the group,” Caleb said, cutting through the personal stuff.

Adam scowled at Caleb but he missed it and Avery was too busy fighting off the flood of anger pouring through her. “Computers? Are you kidding? Felt more like you were the pain enforcer to me. You scared the he—”

Adam held up his hands as if surrendering, even though he held a gun in one. “And you were a worthy adversary. If I hadn’t stopped you just then, we’d be picking my teeth up off the floor.”

“We still might,” she mumbled.

Adam smiled. “Fair enough.”

She refused to be charmed or put off. Concentrating while Caleb stood there in his tight underwear was hard enough. “Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Adam is with Recovery.”

Adam’s shoulders tensed. “Caleb, what are you—”

“She knows.”

Adam looked back and forth between Caleb and Avery. “Not possible.”

The poor guy looked ready to vomit, which she figured served him right after the squeeze play he put on her midsection. “Totally possible.”

Caleb blew out a long, exaggerated breath. “Apparently it is.”

She saw Adam’s hand shift toward his gun. She saw it and Caleb saw it.

“Stop.” Caleb pressed his hands down as if trying to calm the situation. “Avery is safe. Trust me. I’m not worried about her alliances.”

She had no idea what that meant but the whole talking-like-she-wasn’t-there thing wasn’t her favorite.

“She does about Rod and Recovery.” She hesitated to make sure her sarcasm made an impression. “My question was really about why we’re in this condo and when exactly Caleb here had the time to call in the cavalry here.”

He had the nerve to shrug. “We all have contingency plans in case of an emergency.”

“I’m his,” Adam said.

They acted as if that explained everything. “I still don’t get it.”

“If the silent alarm trips—” Adam pointed to his watch as he spoke “—I come running. If Caleb isn’t here or on that fire escape, I know he needs help.”

“You got here before we did.”

“I live in the building and was already in the condo when the building’s fire alarm started blaring. Something tripped Caleb’s silent alarm before that.”

“You mean someone.” Caleb played with the buttons on his watch, as if the conversation bored him. “Avery broke into my apartment.”

“Impressive.” Adam’s tone and his slow nod suggested he meant it.

Caleb finally looked up again. “And now we’re stuck because there are police and bad guys roaming around, and I’m not sure which is which.”

“Do we know the identity of said bad guys?” Adam asked. “Just wondering who we ticked off this time.”

As much as she wanted to hear about whatever idiot would be self-destructive enough to come after these two, she jumped in. “You didn’t. I did.”

She waited until both men looked at her. She wanted to make sure she had their attention because she needed them to understand how serious the situation had become. “They want me.”

Caleb stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything. Then he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and turned toward the front door. “Then despite the danger, we have to get you out of here and somewhere safe.”

“You might want to put on some clothes first,” Adam called out, right before she could.

Caleb stopped in midstep and glanced down his front. “Good plan.”

Adam shook his head. “I’ll get them.”

She waited until Adam stepped into the bathroom to whisper her question to Caleb. “Can he be trusted?”

He stared after Adam, glanced around the room, basically did everything but give her the courtesy of looking at her. “Yeah. Adam’s one of the few people I do trust.”

There was nothing subtle in Caleb’s comment. “Unlike me?”

This time his gaze locked on hers. “Yeah, Avery. Unlike you.”

TREVOR WALTERS LEANED back in his oversize leather chair and stared at the men sitting on the other side of his desk. They were experts in their fields but he could control them both with a few phone calls, as evidenced by the fact they showed up on his turf before five in the morning, before the workday even started. Likely before these government workers normally woke up. They asked for a meeting. He set the unreasonable terms to see if they’d meet them. Not a surprise they had.

His company, Orion Industries, specialized in threat management. He advised governments and corporations, supplying assessments and muscle. Today his country’s government had come calling in the form of a fifty-something bureaucrat with graying hair, a runner’s build and a Georgetown Law class ring.

“We’re here on a sensitive subject,” John Tate said, then stopped. It was as if he thought his impressive title at the Department of Justice gave him the right to make demands.

Trevor wasn’t impressed by the deputy director of the Office of Enforcement Operations. The man oversaw complex surveillance and witness protection requests, including who got in and who didn’t. But with all that power the guy still had no clue about the corruption raging through his office.

Russell Ambrose, the other man in the room, knew all about deceit. As chief inspector in the D.C. office of WitSec and a career government official with the U.S. Marshal Service, he should have been crystal clean. Trevor knew from experience that wasn’t the case.

Trevor knew. Russell knew. Tate, the man at the very top, was the only one in the dark. Trevor almost smiled at the irony.

“You know I am always willing to lend my company’s services if needed,” he said.

John gave a quick glance in Russell’s direction before starting. “I’m afraid this is a bit more personal.”

Trevor had an idea where the conversation was headed but wanted to make the man spell it out. Let John squirm a bit. In Trevor’s view, powerful men always did the best squirming. “How so?”

“Your brother.” John brushed lint or something equally invisible off his pants. “I’m very sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“I attended the service. It was very moving.”

“Agreed.” Trevor had planned it, headed the cover-up into the true cause of the death and saw to it everyone believed his brother died a hero. Their parents deserved to grieve with honor. Having the world view Bram as the model statesman and father served that purpose. It also ensured a steady stream of contracts for Trevor’s company. Bram got the praise and Trevor reaped the benefits. He could live with the deal, even though the sting of Bram’s loss pricked stronger than Trevor expected it would.

In the quiet of his home office with only his whiskey as witness, he had mourned. He’d let the weakness flow through him. Mostly, though, he simmered with fury that Bram had gotten pulled so far into the terrible situation that led to his murder. He had been so reckless and paid the ultimate price.