Serve ‘N’ Protect by Tee O’Fallon

Chapter Nineteen

As planned, they’d arrived and parked outside Robert Mansfield’s building an hour earlier than the guy was due to arrive home from work.

Windows in the apartment Mansfield lived in remained dark. According to Kade’s sources at the State Department, the guy was working a full day, despite it being Christmas Eve.

Streetlamps bathed the otherwise dark sidewalk in enough light for them to see their target when he walked the short distance home from the D.C. Metro station.

“How you feeling?” Kade asked from the passenger seat.

“Good,” Markus replied. He was good but still nowhere near 100 percent. He continued scrolling through his phone for a florist in Leonardtown, one that would deliver tonight.

Matt, who sat in the back seat with Ghost, leaned forward between the headrests. “McMurray would shit a brick if he knew you were in the field with us.”

“So don’t tell him.” Markus glanced up to check the sidewalk in case their target came home early.

“Copy that,” Matt said.

Tulips. Daisies. Roses. For the most part, he didn’t know one flower from the next and had no idea what kind Cassidy would like. Come to think of it, had he ever bought a woman flowers? Nope.

“What are you doing?” Kade looked at the screen on Markus’s phone.

“Ordering flowers,” he grumbled, still uncertain of what to buy. It was important that he make the right selection.

“For whom?” Matt leaned in more, shoving his head farther over the front seat so he could see what was going on.

“Cassidy.”

Kade snorted. “I take it this means things are, uh, happening between you two?”

“Yeah,” he muttered absently then caught the gleam in his friend’s eye. “Not like that, so get your mind out of the gutter.”

Matt pointed to the phone. “Get those. The yellow ones.”

“You sure?” Daffodils.

“No.” Kade shook his head adamantly. “Get the pink ones on the second row. They’re cool-looking. Exotic.” He waggled his brows.

Markus frowned. “What the hell are they?”

“Orchids, my man.” Matt clapped him on the shoulder. “Trista has a bunch of them on a windowsill in the kitchen.”

Markus grunted. He trusted Matt’s wife, so he clicked the box under the orchids. For the heck of it, he also clicked the box under the daffodils. Typing quickly, he entered Cassidy’s address then a quick note. Thanks for the cookies. Thanks for everything. Alex.

“Cookies?” Kade’s voice held a note of curiosity.

Markus shrugged. “She made me cookies.” He pulled his creds from his back pocket, slid out his personal credit card then thought better of it. In the event that Mansfield wasn’t their man, he didn’t want to leave a paper trail that would red flag his location. He shoved his credit card back in his creds and whipped out the one in the name Alex Adessio.

“Yeah? What kind?” Matt stretched even farther across the seats, searching.

“What’d you do to earn those cookies?” Kade gave Markus a knowing expression, one that said he didn’t believe nothing had happened between them.

Markus completed the transaction, paying extra so the flowers would be delivered immediately. What had he done to earn those cookies? Nothing. Other than telling her that his mother used to make them for him. “I’ve been helping to rehab her legs.” Although he had a feeling that she would have made him the cookies anyway. That was just her way. Thoughtful and caring to the core.

“What did happen to her legs?” Matt asked. “She was limping pretty badly when we were there.”

“Car accident.” As one, they all went silent, closely watching a solitary man with a backpack slung over his shoulder walking toward them.

“Not our guy,” Kade said when he was close enough to be ruled out.

“Back to the cookies.” Matt looked over the seat, searching. “Did you bring any?”

“Of course he didn’t.” Kade shook his head. “Markus doesn’t eat cookies. His body is a temple.”

Temple my ass. Not since he’d been sitting on it for the last month.

Markus reached across Kade’s legs to flip open the glove compartment and pull out a clear plastic bag crammed with Hersey’s Kisses cookies before handing it to his friend.

“Outstanding!” Kade fisted his hand triumphantly then took the bag and dug out a handful of cookies before handing the bag to Matt.

“Hoo. Rah.” Matt dug in next.

Ghost whined, stretching his neck as close as possible to the bag. When Matt handed the bag back to Markus, Ghost whined louder. “All right, all right.” He grabbed two cookies, plucking out the chocolate Kisses before offering the cookies to his dog.

Eagerly, Ghost hoovered them, chewing then licking his furry chops.

“You know,” Kade said between cookies, of which he’d eaten four already by Markus’s count, “there’s something different about you.”

He popped a cookie into his mouth. “There’s nothing different about me.” Other than the fact that he hadn’t stopped thinking about Cassidy since he and Ghost had driven away. Or the mind-blowing, gravity-impacting kiss they’d shared that had left him feeling grateful he’d been sitting down at the time. If he hadn’t been, his damn knees would have buckled.

“First,” Kade said, counting off with one finger, “you don’t eat cookies, yet here they are and here you are eating them and feeding them to the Secret Service’s finest canine officer.” Ghost woofed. “You’re welcome.” Kade tipped his head to the back seat where Ghost’s nostrils flared repeatedly in the hopes of more cookies. “Second.” He held up another finger. “We’re waiting on a murder suspect and you’re buying flowers. For your new and very pretty neighbor.”

“You have a point.” Matt clapped Markus on the shoulder. “Our boy’s smitten.”

Markus snorted, nearly choking on a cookie. “Smitten?”

“Yeah.” Kade nodded enthusiastically. “You know, all gooey-eyed. Doing mushy things for a woman, like buying her flowers.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he said, chewing around the cookie then swallowing. “I am not smitten.” He glared at both his friends but even as he said the words, the truth crystalized brighter than the muzzle flash from his Glock. They’re right. I’m smitten. “She’s nice,” he said, although nice barely scratched the surface of all the amazing things he’d say to describe Cassidy. “She’s been through a lot since her accident but always finds the time to do things for others, including me. She makes hundreds of cookies every Christmas for all the kids in her neighborhood. Two nights ago, her house was broken into and the goddamn burglar stole her laptop and punched her in the face for good measure. I just wanted to do something nice for her for a change. She was there for me when I needed it, and we’ve become…” Friends?

No. Not just friends. He’d never kissed a friend like that before, and if he stopped long enough to think about it, he wanted to be more than just friends. So much more.

“Burglarized?” Matt frowned. “She all right?”

“Yeah.” Keeping one eye on the sidewalk, he filled Kade and Matt in on what had happened, including his barefooted chase down the street. “At least she’s got a security system now.”

“Glad she’s okay,” Kade said.

“Me, too,” he said absently, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Something about that burglary still bugged him, buzzing around his brain like a mosquito, but he still couldn’t pinpoint what or why.

Kade chuckled, and Markus turned to see the corners of his mouth had lifted, his lady-killer dimples in full force. “In all the years we’ve known you, that’s the most you’ve ever talked about a woman.”

Matt’s chuckle was even louder. “Might be the only time he’s ever talked about a woman.”

“Fuck both of you.” Markus dragged a hand down his face while his friends laughed outright. But they were balls-on accurate.

He’d barely spoken about the women he’d dated in the past, mainly because they were always fleeting in his life, most never sticking around long enough for him to introduce to his friends. Truth was, he’d let them go because they’d never become important to him. Cassidy had.

Time to end his sappy gut-gushing. “Did you find anything else on this guy since we talked yesterday?”

Kade cleared his throat. “He’s thirty-eight years old, born in Virginia and went to college at Oxford, studying Middle Eastern languages. He worked at the United Nations in New York City for eleven years as a translator. Been with the embassy for the last five years. Travels occasionally to Saudi Arabia. No criminal history, not even a parking ticket. Nothing stands out.”

“Right,” Matt said. “Just one hell of a big knife collection.”

“There is that,” Kade agreed.

Markus stiffened as a lone bearded figure wearing a dark gray suit strode toward them. With his face down and glued to the phone in his hand, he still couldn’t be sure if it was Mansfield. When the man was about twenty feet away, Markus’s pulse took up a steady trot that quickly morphed into an all-out gallop. He twisted in the seat to snap on Ghost’s leash. “It’s him.” He recognized the guy from that night at the party.

Markus shoved open his door and quietly shut it behind him before opening Ghost’s door and grabbing his dog’s leash. Kade and Matt had already exited the SUV and stood waiting for them on the sidewalk in front of the building. The plan was to try and talk to the guy first. If he lawyered up, they could go for an arrest warrant, but without enough probable cause, they’d be SOL convincing any Assistant U.S. Attorney to move forward with charges. They needed a confession.

As Mansfield drew closer, Markus tightened the hand he held Ghost’s leash with into a fist. He blew out a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to ease the rising tension in his muscles. If this was their guy and he didn’t own up to what he’d done, Markus would spend the rest of his days making Mansfield’s life a living hell.

Picking up on the tension traveling down the leash, Ghost issued a low growl, his body quivering with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. It had been too long since Ghost had been on patrol. The mere hint of a takedown had his dog prancing in place. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come down to a chase. If it did, no way could Mansfield outrun Ghost or evade three trained federal agents. One way or another, they’d get their man. If he really was their man.

Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Ghost growled low in his throat. Mansfield looked up, took another step, then froze. Markus knew the instant Mansfield recognized him. His eyes grew wide. Then he did a one-eighty and began hauling ass in the opposite direction down the sidewalk.

In a smooth, practiced movement, Markus unhooked the leash, issuing a one-word command. “Go.”

Ghost sprinted down the sidewalk at a dead run. Markus, Kade, and Matt took off after him. With each pounding step, the partially healed wounds on his abdomen and back throbbed like a mother, but he kept going. Letting this fucker go…not an option.

Kade and Matt easily passed him. At the first intersection, their target hung a hard right, disappearing around the corner of another building. Ghost followed, close on the guy’s heels.

Throbbing pain laced his midsection, forcing Markus to slow his pace. He turned the corner just in time to see Ghost launch at Mansfield, slamming the guy face-first onto the sidewalk.

Deep growls emanated from Ghost’s throat as he locked his jaw around their target’s upper arm.

“Police!” Kade shouted. “Stop struggling! Stop struggling and we’ll call off the dog.”

Mansfield must not have heard Kade because he jerked his other arm behind him in an attempt to swat at Ghost’s head.

Bad move. The more the guy resisted, the worse it would be for him.

Ghost locked on tighter, his tail in the air as he arched his back and loosed a deep, menacing growl. Mansfield’s scream rent the night air. Luckily, the sidewalk was deserted. No prying eyes and no cell phone cams. For the moment. Their best course of action was to get inside and conduct a thorough interview. Again, if Mansfield didn’t lawyer up.

Markus leaned over and planted his hands on his thighs, sucking in deep breaths. In front of him, Mansfield’s face contorted as he attempted to extricate his arm from Ghost’s teeth. “Stop struggling, and I’ll get him off you.”

As if someone had flipped a switch, the man’s body went still.

“Release,” he ordered, and Ghost instantly unclamped his jaw but continued circling Mansfield. Markus snapped the leash onto his dog’s collar. “Sit.”

Ghost sat, but the tension from his quivering muscles traveled directly up the leash, telling Markus that his dog would love nothing more than to make a meal out of the guy’s biceps.

Matt grabbed the man’s backpack, which lay in the gutter. Kade stood back, letting Markus take charge of whatever would happen next.

“Get him up,” Markus said in a deadly voice.

Kade and Matt hauled Mansfield to his feet. While Ghost looked on protectively, Markus quickly patted the man down for weapons. When he was done, he spun the guy around to face him. Pain still twisted the man’s features as he breathed heavily. As much as Markus wanted to ram his fist in Mansfield’s face and his boot up the guy’s ass, everything had to be by the book. Without needing to pull it out, Markus recited every word on the Advisement and Waiver of Miranda Rights card tucked away in his creds case. “Do you understand your rights?” Mansfield gave a reluctant nod. “Are you willing to waive these rights and talk to me?”

For a moment, the man’s eyes glittered with anger and defiance, and Markus assumed the worst. That they’d get nothing out of him and have to let him go. Then the fire in his eyes died, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water in his face. “Yes,” he answered on a heavy sigh.

“You know who I am?”

Mansfield nodded.

“Why did you run?”

“Because,” he said on an even deeper, shuddering breath, “I wasn’t ready to face what I’d done.”