Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,39
floor of the car. How could she trust him when she didn’t even know who he was?
“What’s the rest of the story? Who are you, and why are you in Colorado?”
“I thought I’d made that clear. I’m an agent with this intelligence organization—with Prospero.”
“You’ve been watching me? Following me?”
“As soon as we found out about Abby Warren’s secret life, we dug into her background and discovered you. We’ve had our eye on you ever since.”
“You probably know more about my life than I do. You obviously knew about my husband’s murder.” Did he also know Alex had become a control freak, bordering on emotionally abusive?
“I knew about your husband’s murder.” He covered her hand with his. “Sorry.”
If J.D. was sorry, he probably didn’t know about Alex’s obsession with tracking her every movement. She inched her hand away from his warm grasp. Was his name even J.D.?
“What’s your name?”
“J.D.” He held up two fingers like the Boy Scout he wasn’t. “I swear.”
“Is that for Jim Davis?”
“Uh, no.”
At least he had the decency to blush. “What is your real name? I have a right to know the name of the man who’s been following me around for a month.”
“Jared Douglas.” He held out his hand for a shake.
She ignored it.
“Would I have discovered anything more about Jared Douglas than I did about Jim Davis from a search on the internet?”
“You ran a search on me? Good girl.”
Her lips twisted into a snarl. “Don’t patronize me. I ran a search on Jim Davis.”
He shrugged. “You wouldn’t have found much more on Jared Douglas—fewer of us—but it’s not like I frequent any social networking sites with my occupation and hobbies listed.”
Noelle slumped in her seat and turned her gaze to the landscape, blanketed in freshly fallen snow. She had bigger problems than the identity of her ranch hand turned spy.
She and Abby hadn’t been close at all. She’d found her roommate closed off and distant, and that had suited her. The primary requirement she’d had for a roommate after Alex’s murder had been neatness—and Abby had fit the bill.
Abby had shared very little of her life. She certainly didn’t tell Noelle where she’d hidden some plans she’d stolen from a dangerous arms dealer.
“No more questions?” J.D. had pulled his rental off the highway and onto the road leading to the ranch.
Should she kick him out now? No. He’d kept her safe the past few days, and she still needed...his protection. Of course, now she knew why he’d been so attentive—he was doing his job. Couldn’t let the bad guys get their hands on a prime witness, could he?
“Can’t we just tell them?”
“Tell who what?”
“Tell Zendaris and his flunkies that I don’t know anything about the plans. They’ve already searched the apartment in D.C. They’ve searched my place here. They didn’t find anything or they wouldn’t have pulled that stunt last night. You’d think they’d just give up and go on to plan B.”
The line of J.D.’s jaw hardened as he swung through the gates to the ranch. “Zendaris doesn’t give up, Noelle. He wants to question you, and then he’ll destroy you.”
He threw the SUV into Park and they sat side by side, his words hanging in the air between them.
“Should I leave Buck Ridge?”
“Where would you go?”
“I have some money. I could hide out somewhere, move to a different city.”
“And be looking over your shoulder every minute of the day for the rest of your life?”
“What would make Zendaris stop? What would make him leave me alone?”
“A bullet between his eyes.”
One look at J.D.’s chiseled profile, and she knew he’d want to be the one to do it. Hugging herself, she said, “I’m sure your agency would’ve done that by now if they could. Is he that untouchable?”
“He’s hard to find, well protected, moves around a lot. We don’t have any good pictures of him. We suspect he goes out in disguise most of the time.”
“Seems like you’d have more luck catching a shadow.” She drew a tic-tac-toe board in the condensation of the window. “If you can’t catch him, how are you going to stop him? When am I ever going to be free of his scrutiny?”
“I know something else that would make him stop harassing you.” J.D. yanked the keys from the ignition.
“Besides his death or mine? What? What would stop him?”
“If we got our hands on those plans.”
* * *
J.D. HELD HIS breath as Noelle dragged her finger through three diagonal X’s on her game of tic-tac-toe. “Do you really