Striking Distance Read online

  He pulled over to the curb, and Tasha did the same. From her vantage point a block behind him and parked between two other vehicles, she watched a hooker approach the passenger side of his SUV. Since he’d passed at least a dozen in the past three blocks, she could only assume that he’d decided this one suited his taste.

  Try as she might to watch the scene evolving before her with cold, clinical objectivity, a mixture of rage and something she wasn’t prepared to label seethed inside her. He wanted someone he could control, someone who would play the game his way.

  Seth eased away from the curb, drove to the end of the block and turned into a small parking area. Seconds later he approached the woman waiting outside an adult entertainment club. He followed her inside.

  Tasha, wishing like hell she had her weapon, fished for her cell phone. She had to let Maverick know where she was. She might not be thinking as clearly as she should, but she wasn’t completely stupid. According to the display, she’d missed three calls. Oh, yeah, Maverick would be pissed. With the phone set on vibrate there had been no ring. “Dammit.” Even worse, she had no signal now. No signal. How could she be in a city this large and not get a signal?

  “Hell with it.” She tossed the phone to the passenger seat and emerged from her car. Her senses on full alert she started in the direction of the club. She ignored the comments tossed her way by the men, as well as the women, she passed along the way. At least she was dressed to fit in.

  The club Seth had entered was a narrow two-story building sandwiched between a pawnshop and a sleazy restaurant that was closed for the night. No bouncers waited at the entrance to check for weapons or to stamp her hand. Management apparently had a lax door policy. No surprise there.

  Inside, music blared and multicolored lights flashed and throbbed in sync with the rhythm. Tasha surveyed the crowded room, careful to stay in the shadow of the tight clutch of weirdos hanging near the entrance. Seth and his hooker were nowhere in the throng. Tasha peered beyond the masses enjoying lap dances and watching porn videos on the array of wall-mounted screens, her gaze locked onto a dimly lit corridor and set of stairs on the opposite side of the club. She moved in that direction.

  “You got an appointment?”

  The male voice halted her in her tracks, and she glanced over to the man standing at the end of the battle-scarred bar. The numerous body piercings and tattoos did little to enhance his thin, haggard frame.

  She smiled flirtatiously and leaned on the counter to look up at him. “Do I need one?”

  He jerked his head in the direction of the corridor marked Employees Only. “You do if you’re going in there.” He looked her up and down when she stood back and adopted a put-upon expression.

  She reached into her purse and withdrew the wad of cash Seth had dropped in there earlier. “I only want to watch.”

  The bottom feeder behind the counter grinned grotesquely. “Baby, this’ll buy you just about anything we have to offer.” He flexed his bare, tattooed arms as he braced against the counter and leaned forward. “Including me.”

  How could she resist? she thought loathingly. “As tempting as that sounds,” she lied, “there’s something else I need to do first. A big guy, blond hair, dark glasses came in here a couple minutes ago with a redhead.”

  He nodded to the corridor again. “Last door on the left upstairs.”

  She gave him a million-dollar smile that suggested a promise she definitely didn’t intend to keep. “Thanks.”

  Tasha pushed through the crowd and made her way up to the second floor. Nine doors lined the dark corridor, most were partially open, offering glimpses of sexual depravity involving whips and chains and parties of three. The music still thumped loudly, adding a sick score to the nefarious acts taking place.

  She slowed as she came nearer to the final door. Like the others it stood slightly ajar. A warning blaring in her skull, she eased into the entryway, allowing the door to shield her to an extent. She peeked into the room, telling herself that she just needed to know what he was up to. But that was a lie. This had nothing to do with her mission…this was personal. She knew it, but the realization didn’t stop her. She had to know. Had to see.

  Swaying provocatively the woman undressed in front of him. Tasha watched his unchanging profile as the hooker gave it all she had without eliciting the first visible reaction from the man. Completely naked, her body pressing close to his, she reached for him, but he pushed her hands away. Yet something passed between them. He hadn’t spoken, Tasha was sure of that. The hooker must have seen some indication in his eyes of what he wanted.

  She knelt in front of him, her red hair swishing around her shoulders as she moved her upper body brazenly, showing off her large breasts. Taking her time, to draw out the tension, she unfastened his jeans. First the single button at his waist, then slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered the zipper of his fly.

  Tasha watched in morbid fascination, unable to move or think…she could only watch as some heretofore unknown genetic defect allowed her body to respond as if it were her touching him. Her breath stalled in her lungs. Heat slid through her, and she was helpless to stop it.

  With his fly gaping wide, even from across the room, Tasha could see that he was naked beneath the worn-soft denim. Her mouth parched unbearably as the hooker took him. The breath hissed out through Tasha’s parted lips as his fingers plunged into the woman’s hair. His reaction startled Tasha…damaged her somehow. He hadn’t reacted to her touch…hadn’t allowed her to reach him.

  Stunned by her own fierce reaction, she forced her gaze upward to look at his face…to measure his response…

  But he was looking at her.

  She jerked with the impact.

  He held her in a firm grasp with nothing but an Arctic glare. The sheer force of it cut all the way across the room. She stumbled back a step.

  “See something you like?” another male voice uttered harshly in her ear.

  She froze. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  Behind her, to the left. Hidden from Seth’s view as well as hers.

  She cautiously reached for the mace in her purse.

  “Don’t move,” he threatened as he pressed a cold, steel muzzle to the back of her head. “Keep your hands where I can see them, and I’ll let you watch. Make the slightest move and you’ll die on the floor of this den of iniquity.”

  Tasha tried frantically to place the voice. Refined, no accent whatsoever…evil.

  The music rose and fell, punctuating the wanton cries and demands echoing from the other rooms.

  Seth never took his eyes off her. He still couldn’t see the other man, the one with the gun to her head. Tasha wanted to tell him somehow but between the cold barrel poking into her flesh and the woman drawing her mouth back and forth along his hardened length, she could only stare helplessly, wishing that she could taste him, that it was her hair that his fingers were plunged into. She licked her lips…need sharp and demanding unexpectedly paramount to all else. It was crazy…but she couldn’t stop it.

  Seth abruptly shoved the hooker away.

  Tasha blinked. The strange spell suddenly broken.

  He fastened his jeans and was across the room before his intent fully assimilated in her brain. He drew his weapon and plowed through the doorway, knocking her out of the way in the process.

  By the time she regained her balance he and the man who’d jabbed her with his weapon were facing off in the corridor. The hooker cowered in the room, belatedly holding her blouse to her chest.

  “I warned you not to let anyone too close,” the other man said.

  Tasha scanned the details of his face, recognition slammed into her instantly.

  Leberman.

  “I told you,” Seth growled, his tone chilling, de
adly, “to stay away from me.”

  “She followed you here. This is a mistake.”

  Tasha’s fingers itched to grab the mace and do what she could to take control of the situation but that would only get her killed. If Leberman didn’t get a round off, Seth would. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. She knew it. It made her obsession with him all the more insane.

  “I’m out of here,” she announced, determined to take some sort of action. If she could only get to a phone while they continued their standoff…if she’d only worn that damned tracking monitor.

  Seth manacled her arm and jerked her back when she would have walked away.

  “Don’t move.”

  Tasha held perfectly still and used the time to study Leberman. He wasn’t very tall, five-ten or-eleven maybe. Hundred fifty pounds, she guessed. Gray hair…but those eyes were dark and menacing. He glowered at Seth with a mixture of awe and irritation. The situation was too weird to explain, but one thing was crystal clear. Seth hated Leberman. He might be working for him but he damned sure didn’t like him.

  “Come near me again and I will kill you,” Seth warned him. There was more than anger in his voice this time…fear or desperation maybe.

  Leberman stiffened ever so slightly, but Tasha picked up on it. He didn’t like being ordered around by his hired help. Seth’s reaction was a little harder to assess. What power did this man hold over him? How could this weasel instill any sort of fear in a man like Seth?

  “Your mission is too important to let anything—” he glanced at Tasha “—get in your way.”

  Seth tightened his grip on his weapon. Leberman flinched. “Nothing—” every muscle in Seth’s body looked taut, ready to snap “—will get in my way, including you.”

  Leberman lowered his weapon. “This is not the time to allow mistakes.”

  Seth kept his weapon aimed directly at the other man’s frontal lobe. “I never make mistakes.”

  “See that you don’t.” Leberman turned his back on them both and walked way.

  Startled, Tasha looked from one man to the other. Not until Leberman had descended the stairs did Seth lower his weapon. He turned on Tasha then.

  When that icy gaze collided with hers there was something new there…something she couldn’t quite define. Whatever it was, she shivered at the intensity of it.

  “If I see you again, you’re dead.”

  He walked back into the room where the hooker still cowered like a frightened animal and slammed the door behind him.

  For five trauma-filled seconds Tasha didn’t move, just stared at the closed door. Then she blasted into action, running for the stairs.

  Leberman couldn’t have gotten far. Weapon or no weapon she had to do something. She had to find him. Had to get word to Lucas.

  Leberman was here…in Chicago.

  CHAPTER 21

  The minutes ticked past like hours.

  Victoria roamed her den like a prisoner anticipating his final walk down death row. She’d slept less than an hour…hadn’t been able to turn off the images inside her head long enough for more than that.

  She remembered so well dressing him for school that morning. The jeans…Cubs T-shirt…and those blue sneakers. His favorite pair.

  After school she’d picked him up and they’d gone home, just as always. She never stayed at the office when she could be with Jimmy. The sun had been shining…spring had arrived after a long, arduous winter. She’d loved the spring.

  He’d gone out into the yard to play.

  She’d been distracted for only one moment.

  And then he was gone.

  Her life had plunged into an abyss of pure hell. James had done everything he could to find their son. Lucas had helped, as well. But none of it had mattered…he was gone.

  She stopped in the middle of the room and closed her eyes in an attempt to regain her equilibrium.

  Why had he waited all this time?

  She had assumed that since he hadn’t tortured them with the idea that he had possession of their son, that he wasn’t the one. Leberman wanted to hurt them…used every means at his disposal. But this—this just didn’t make sense.

  It had been eighteen years.

  Did this particular time of year hold some significance for him? It had been October when James had interviewed Leberman’s wife, nearly twenty years ago. Nineteen to be exact. James had long since left his work with military intelligence, choosing instead to start the Colby Agency where he would never have to worry about being separated from his family. But an old friend had needed him to help with an investigation involving one of James’s former men, Leberman. Errol Leberman had served under James’s command. Had been an excellent intelligence officer.

  But Leberman had committed treason, had sold military secrets to the enemy, and James had uncovered the evidence, had driven the final nail in Leberman’s coffin.

  When Leberman went into hiding to escape prosecution, James questioned his family as to his whereabouts. But his wife had claimed no knowledge of her husband’s whereabouts or his troubles. She had feigned shock at the news that he was wanted for treason. James had pushed…that much was true. If only he had known how unstable the woman was…maybe he could have prevented what happened next.

  Mrs. Leberman had taken her life that same night, but only after taking the lives of her two children first. She’d left a note stating that they simply could not live with the weight of her husband’s shame.

  That had been the beginning of the end.

  Leberman had successfully evaded capture and made it his life’s work to get even with James Colby for, in his twisted way of thinking, killing his wife and children.

  Victoria exhaled a heavy breath. Dear God how he had gotten even.

  He’d killed their son. She closed her eyes and fought the tears that welled. All this time she had hoped…for a miracle. Had hoped that her son was alive and well somewhere with people who loved him. But he wasn’t. He was dead. Leberman wouldn’t have allowed him to live. It hurt too much to even imagine what the bastard had put her child through before taking his life. Then, when she and her husband had suffered through endless nights of praying and hoping and endless days of searching—three long years’ worth—Leberman had killed James. Though there was no rock-solid proof it had been his evil work, she had known.

  Just as she knew he was behind this assassin…this heartless reminder of the child she had lost. Her fingers tightened into fists of rage. He’d let her hope all these years only to dash that hope. Just when she’d been ready to resume a real life. It was as if he knew. As if he’d waited for this moment to start sending back the pieces. He had done the unthinkable. She knew it.

  Lucas knew, as well.

  Leberman wanted to destroy them both. He wouldn’t stop until he did. If Victoria went into hiding as Lucas urged her to do, it would change nothing. He would just keep coming back until he destroyed everything connected to the Colby name. She felt certain he was the one responsible for various troubles the agency had run into over the years. She had to face this monster once and for all. Or she would never be free…and neither would Lucas, for he was guilty by association.

  Victoria had lost enough.

  This time Leberman was going to be the one to die.

  Her doorbell rang, and she glanced at the mantel clock above her hearth—7:00 a.m. It would be Lucas. He’d decided not to go back to his work in Washington until the Leberman situation was resolved or until he could talk her into disappearing, whichever came first. He wasn’t going to like her decision.

  As much as she hated to admit the weakness, his concern warmed her. She needed him right now. But she also needed him to understand her position.

  She checked the peephole in the front door for

  safety’s sake, disarmed the securit
y system and opened the door for him.

  “Good morning,” he said as he stepped inside, his gaze scrutinizing her immediately.

  He would see that she’d had no sleep and would guess that she’d lacked any appetite as well. He would fuss. She sighed wistfully. And she would be thankful for him…for his constancy in her life. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the subtle, clean scent that was the same one he’d worn for as long as she’d known him. An enticing combination of sandalwood and plain clean skin. She resisted a shiver. Only Lucas could make her feel so alive under present circumstances. And she was so very tired of reliving the haunting past. She couldn’t bear it any longer.

  “Good morning, Lucas.” She decided to do something she rarely did, go to the office late. “Would you like to have coffee with me this morning?”

  That charming smile he had perfected to a science—the one that warmed her insides—spread across his handsome face. “I can always handle a second cup of coffee.” He locked the door behind him and followed her to the kitchen.

  It had been a long time since she’d prepared morning coffee for someone besides herself, but it felt good. Once she’d slid the carafe into place and pressed the start button, she turned to Lucas.

  She might as well get this part out of the way while they were in her territory. “I’ve decided to stick by my schedule for the next few days. Mildred reminded me last night when I’d pulled myself together a bit that I have that Woman of the Year luncheon this evening.” She held up a hand to hush his protests and continued, “You know I don’t care about the honor. It isn’t about that at all. It’s about not allowing that bastard to put my life on hold again. He’s not taking anything else from me.”

  “Victoria.” Lucas propped his cane against the closest cabinet and took her hands in his. “You wouldn’t let me comfort you last night.” He searched her eyes for answers. She knew what he wanted to hear…but could she give him what he longed for after all that had happened?