Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,116
why. Had a family once shared the two homes?
He grabbed the last box of stuff from the truck and hefted it toward the house. Maybe this had been a mistake. He’d purchased the little one-story home sight unseen because of the white clapboard siding, the blue shutters, and the damn name of the town—Cottage Grove. It sounded peaceful.
He’d never truly see peace again, and he knew it.
All the homes the real estate agent had emailed him about had been sad and run-down…until this one. It had been on the market only a few days, and the agent had insisted it wouldn’t be for long. After a month of searching desperately for a place to call home, he’d jumped on the sale.
It had been so convenient, it seemed like a stroke of fate.
If he believed in fate, which he did not.
He walked through the simple one-story home and dropped another box in the kitchen, looking out at the pine trees beyond the wooden fence. The area had been subdivided into twenty-acre lots, with tons and tons of trees, so he’d figured he wouldn’t see any other houses, which had suited him just fine.
Yet his house was next to another, and one fence enclosed their backyards together.
No other homes were even visible.
He sighed and started to turn for the living room when a sound caught his attention. His body automatically went on full alert, and he reached for the SIG hidden at the back of his waist. Had they found him? Somebody had just come in the front door.
“Detective West? Don’t shoot. I’m a friendly,” came a deep male voice.
Malcolm pulled the gun free, the weight of it in his hand more familiar than his own voice. “Friendlies don’t show up uninvited,” he said calmly, eyeing the two main exits from the room in case he needed to run.
A guy strode into the kitchen, hands loose at his sides. Probably in his thirties, he had bloodshot eyes, short, mussed-up brown hair, and graceful movements. His gaze showed he’d seen some shit, and there was a slight tremble in his right arm. Trying to kick a habit, was he?
Malcolm pointed the weapon at the guy’s head. “Two seconds.”
The man looked at the few boxes set around the room, not seeming to notice the gun. Even with the tremor, he moved like he could fight. “There’s nowhere to sit.”
“You’re not staying.” Malcolm could get to the vehicle hidden a mile away within minutes and then take off again. The pretty cottage was a useless dream, and he’d known it the second he’d signed the papers. “I’d hate to ruin the minty-green wallpaper.” It had flowers on it, and he’d planned to change it anyway.
“Then don’t.” The guy leaned against the wall and shook out his arm.
“What are you kicking?” Malcolm asked, his voice going low.
The guy winced. “I’m losing some friends.”
“Jack, Jose, and Bud?” Mal guessed easily.
“Mainly Jack Daniel’s.” Now he eyed the weapon. “Mind putting that down?”
Mal didn’t flinch. “Who are you?”
Broad shoulders heaved in an exaggerated sigh. “My name is Angus Force, and I’m here to offer you an opportunity.”
“Is that a fact? I don’t need a new toaster.” Mal slid the gun back into place. “Go away.”
“Detective—”
“I’m not a detective any longer. Get out of my house.” Mal could use a good fight, and he was about to give himself what he needed.
“Whoa.” Force held up a hand. “Just hear me out. I’m with a new unit attached to the Homeland Defense Department, and we need a guy with your skills.”
Heat rushed up Mal’s chest. His main skill these days was keeping himself from going ballistic on assholes, and he was about to fail in that. “I’m not interested, Force. Now get the hell out of my house.”
Force shook his head. “I understand you’re struggling with the aftereffects of a difficult assignment, but you won. You got the bad guys.”
Yeah, but how many people had died? In front of him? Mal’s vision started to narrow with darkness from the corners of his eyes. “You don’t want to be here any longer, Force.”
“You think you’re the only one with PTSD, dickhead?” Force spat, losing his casual façade.
“No, but I ain’t lookin' to bond over it.” Sweat rolled down Mal’s back. “How’d you find me anyway?”
Force visibly settled himself. “It’s not exactly a coincidence that you bought this house. The only one that came close to what you were looking for.” He looked around the old-lady cheerful kitchen. “Though it is sweet.”