And, of course, Tyler’s primary goal was to bring down the cartel. No matter what.
But in love? She snorted. Hardly. He wasn’t any more in love with her than she was with him. They merely shared close proximity and a kind of nervous excitement. And a definite sexual attraction that had everything to do with chemistry and nothing to do with emotion. That was all.
“Well, that was interesting,” Margaret said as she returned to the kitchen.
“What’s that?”
“The telephone call.” Margaret looked down the long hallway. Nevada waited and figured she’d tell her about the call when she was ready. “That was Tyler on the telephone.”
Now she was confused. “Tyler? But he’s in the office with his father.”
Margaret’s lips curled and she shrugged. “Not any more. He and Edward went out to do some shopping, as they called it. Which means they’re out doing some cloak and dagger stuff.”
Out? He left? Now it was Nevada’s turn to look down the hallway, as if somehow she could see the ghost trail of their departure. “Did he say when they’d be back?”
Margaret pulled a roast from the refrigerator. “Sometime tomorrow.”
“What? Tomorrow? I don’t understand.” He left her here? Without a word as to where he was going?
“Yes. He said to tell you there’s a bag at the front door with a change of clothes and some of your toiletries. He took the liberty of packing for you early this morning.”
He packed for her. Her blood boiled. Left her! Dumped her here, like she was a child to be dropped at the babysitter! And worst of all, he’d planned this. All along, from the moment they woke this morning, he knew he was going to leave her here.
She stood and furiously paced the length of the kitchen. How dare he? In love with her? Ha! More likely he loathed her and couldn’t wait to get rid of her. That’s why he brought her here. To offload his burden, so he could concentrate all his efforts on the precious mission. That’s what he was really in love with!
Dammit! How the hell was she supposed to become a field agent if he kept tossing her in a closet whenever something came up? Fury put her in a rage, adrenaline flowing freely through her bloodstream. She wanted to punch something, to scream at the top of her lungs. Goddamit, he pissed her off!
“Would you like to help me fix dinner, Nevada? Looks like it will just be the two of us tonight.”
It was clear by Margaret’s crooked grin she was well aware of Nevada’s agitated state. Still, she didn’t want to embarrass herself by calling Tyler all the derogatory names flowing through her mind right now. After all, Margaret was his mother. Calling Tyler an insensitive prick in front of his mother wasn’t a good idea.
“Sure, I’d love to,” she ground out between clenched teeth, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. Underneath, she was about to erupt. But she’d wait, enjoy dinner and Margaret’s company. When Tyler came back tomorrow, she’d unleash everything she’d been forced to hold inside.
Tyler Call, look out! Hell hath no fury like a woman dumped.
Chapter Nine
He hadn’t worked on a case with his father in quite awhile. Not since his early days at the agency. Back then, his entire life had depended on making his father proud. At the time he joined the NCA, his dad was the commander and Tyler was fresh from his stint in the Marines.
“Find anything yet?” Tyler paced back and forth as Edward searched the military’s database.
“Not yet. This trucking company, or whatever it is, has hidden their identities too well.”
In order to avoid any contact with the NCA office in St. Louis, they’d driven to Kansas City to make use of the US government’s massive search database. They’d spent all day and night probing, but had come up with nothing. Tyler had hoped the military database, with its sophisticated search capabilities, would be able to gather more information on the mystery trucking company than Nevada had.
“You said Nevada found the names of the principal owners of Mercado?”
He nodded and took a sip of what had to be his tenth cup of coffee. He wasn’t even sure what time it was. Sometime in the early afternoon, he guessed. He could barely keep his eyes open. How did his father, a sixty-five-year-old man, go so long without sleep? The answer was beyond him, but then his father had always been tough.
“She’s pretty damn skilled at her job, then, because she’s way ahead of what we can do here.”
That’s what he figured. Not what he wanted to hear, but what he expected. “Yeah, she’s good at research.”
And it pissed him off that he needed her skills. He worked alone. Successfully. He didn’t need a partner and he sure as hell didn’t want to get any closer to Nevada than he already had. As it was he could barely keep his hands off her.
Getting away from her had been just what he needed. Spending time with his father had reminded him that he needed to focus on the mission, not on getting laid.
He and his dad were in a private office reserved for special visitors, seated side by side at a large folding table. The room was sparsely furnished, mainly used for research purposes. A massive computer took up most of the available desk space. His father’s military connections opened a lot of doors that Tyler otherwise wouldn’t be able to pass through.
“Thanks for your help, anyway.” So much for dumping Nevada. He still needed her for her research capabilities. But that was all.
Yeah, right, Call. Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll start to believe it.
“Are you sure about the agency?” Edward regarded him with disbelief.
Tyler shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. But no one else knew Nevada was with me.”
“I suppose. But I know Alan Webster. Hell, he worked under me when I was commander and in the Marines before that. I trust him with my life.”
“I thought the same thing about Dylan, but I can’t risk Nevada’s life on it.”
“Understandable.” Edward paused a moment, then continued. “But I don’t need to remind you the good of the mission is paramount. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”
Had he heard his father correctly? “You mean it’s okay to give up one person in order to break the case on the drug cartel? Or maybe even two people, myself included.”
Edward frowned. “No, son, I’m not advocating you put yourself on the chopping block like that, nor am I saying the young lady is expendable. But the mission is the most important goal and that’s where your loyalties should lie.”
“They do.”
Edward leaned back in the chair and crossed his hands in front of his stomach. “Do they? Have you given any thought to the possibility that you’re protecting this girl at the cost of the mission? That maybe your motivations where she’s concerned aren’t entirely professional?”
Tyler turned in his chair, unable to believe what he was hearing. “What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. I just want you to think about this girl and what she means to you. If it’s personal, if you’re involved with her, it could affect your thinking.”
“It’s not personal.”
Edward cast a disbelieving glance at him. “Think about it, that’s all I’m saying.”
He’d done nothing but think about it the rest of the day. And once they got in the car to head back to St. Louis, his father’s words pervaded his mind, forcing all other thoughts aside.
Maybe it was because he’d gone without sleep for too long, but what his father said didn’t settle right. The mission was everything. God, how many years had he heard that? Forever, it seemed. How many sacrifices had his father made in order to be successful? And bottom line—was it worth it?
Maybe to Edward Call, putting his work above everything else in his life was the most important thing. But was it worth it to Tyler?
He was tired. So damn tired he could hardly think anymore. How many years had he been doing this? Between military college, the Marines and the agency, it had been over twelve years. Had he ever paused
to think about why he did it? Why he went into the Marines and why he ended up as an operative with the NCA?
The answer was simple and currently sat next to him in the car.
“Dad, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“All these years you were in the military and then with the NCA, did you ever miss having a regular job?”
“What do you mean?”
Tyler wrapped both hands around the steering wheel. “How much time did you travel during those years? How often were you away from home on a mission?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from his father’s viewpoint.
Edward shrugged. “I don’t know. Never really paid much attention.”
But Tyler had. All those years of worshiping his hero from afar, because it was the only choice he had. Dad was rarely around and, even when he was, his head was so wrapped around military life and missions that he didn’t have much time to spend with his son. Or his wife, for that matter.
Had he failed to notice his father’s absence all those years because his mother had been there, acting as both parents? And what about her life? She seemed happy, but what did a child really know about his parents? She could have been miserable every day her entire married life and he’d never have known any different, because she’d made sure he had everything he needed.
What had his mother sacrificed so his father could live his dream?
Is that what Tyler wanted? Would he wake up someday and realize he’d missed having a life? A family? Was he satisfied with his career being the love of his life, or did he want more?
He pondered the thought for a minute, until it became very clear to him.
Hell yes, he wanted more.
“What are you thinking about?”
It took him a few seconds to register that his father was talking to him.
“Nothing much. Why?”
“The look on your face.”
“What about it?”
“You were concentrating. Like you’d just made some monumental decision.” Edward offered a sly smile, as if he’d just been let in on a secret. “Thinking about the mission, aren’t you?”
How could he have been so blind all these years? How could he not have seen what was so clearly right in front of his face the whole time? “Yeah, Dad, that’s it. The mission.”
“That’s my boy. I knew if you thought about it for awhile, you’d come to your senses and get your priorities back on track.” His father slapped him on the back. “I’m proud of you, son.”
I’m proud of you, son.
Tyler forced away the raw pain that tore at his gut. All the years of wanting to hear those words spoken by his father and now they left him empty. Empty and feeling the need to have something more tangible in his life than a pat on the back from a man who thought an agency assignment was more important than a woman’s life.
“Given any thoughts as to what your next step is going to be?” Edward asked.
Tyler studied the gleam in his father’s eye. The old man lived for this—the danger, the excitement. It was all a game to him and he’d never tire of it.
“Yeah, I have a few ideas.” The lights of St. Louis loomed ahead. Within a half hour they’d be back at his parents’, and if he knew Nevada, he’d have one hell of a pissed off woman on his hands.
He had a few ideas. Definitely. But none of them had to do with the mission. He wondered what his father would think about his sudden shift in priorities, then dismissed the thought. Actually, he didn’t care what his father thought. Not anymore.
* * * * *
Ten o’clock. She’d been here over thirty-six hours, virtually held prisoner. And poor Margaret probably felt like a babysitter. A babysitter to a woman on the edge.
At least Margaret was the bright spot in all of this. The woman was wonderful. Always cheerful, upbeat, with a wicked sense of humor. They’d laughed themselves to tears as Margaret regaled her with stories of Tyler’s errant childhood.
If she had been Tyler’s girlfriend, she’d have grabbed her pen and paper and taken notes. Margaret held nothing back, from spilling the beans that Tyler had sucked his thumb until he was six, to making them both laugh and redden in embarrassment at the time she’d caught her son, literally with his pants down, in the garage. Of course he was sixteen at the time, but the young lady in question had been at least twenty years old.
Margaret explained between hysterical fits of laughter that she’d taken comfort in the fact her son was being well schooled in the art of pleasing women.
“Gin.”
“Dammit, Margaret, that’s the fourth time in a row!” Nevada threw the cards down and glared at her.
Margaret shrugged innocently. “I just play the cards, dear. I can’t help it if I win.”
She tried to maintain her evil death stare, but couldn’t keep her lips from curling in a crooked smile. “I think you cheat,” she added as she finished off her glass of wine.
“Now, now, Nevada. Mustn’t be a sore loser.” Margaret downed her own glass of wine and gathered up the cards. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. How about we call it a night?”
Great. Another night spent in Tyler’s bedroom. Feeling him everywhere, inhaling his scent on the sheets as if he still occupied that room every night. “Sounds good to me.” Nevada gathered up their wine glasses and rinsed them in the sink.
If she had to be dumped somewhere, at least it was with enjoyable company. Margaret was the closest thing to a mother she’d had in years. She already knew she’d miss her when they left.
That is, if he ever came back for her.
“He’ll be back tonight. Don’t worry.” Margaret laid a hand on her arm and Nevada turned around, drying her hands on the dishtowel.
“How do you know he’ll be back tonight?” It was as if the woman read her thoughts, knew her insecurities.
“I just do. Try and get some sleep.”
Nevada nodded and Margaret turned to leave, then stopped.
“I’ve really enjoyed having you around.”
Were those tears brimming in Margaret’s eyes? Oh please don’t do that, she thought as she felt the moisture welling in her own.
She picked up Margaret’s hands, so small they almost fit inside hers. “I’ve enjoyed it too.”
“You still miss your mother, don’t you?”
Unable to trust that her voice wouldn’t crack with emotion, she nodded. Margaret swept Nevada’s hair back from her face, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re already like a daughter to me. Silly, I know.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, it isn’t silly at all. I feel it too.”
Impulsively she wrapped her arms around the petite woman and hugged her.
“Good night, dear.”
Nevada let out a shaky sigh. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been until she spent the past couple days with Tyler’s mother. Unable to take another devastating loss after her parents’ deaths, she’d closed herself off from anyone she could possibly love. Which meant that, other than a handful of less-than-close friends and coworkers, she was alone.
Oh sure, she dated. Randomly, here and there. Even had a few so-called relationships. But whenever someone got too close, she ended it. Eventually she just stopped trying, afraid she’d meet the one person she was destined to be with. If she did, if there really was someone like that for her out there, she’d be too paralyzed with fear to ever act upon it. Which meant more loss and more pain. Better to remain alone than take that risk.
She trudged up the stairs and entered Tyler’s room, unable to resist a smile as Margaret’s stories came to mind. At least his mother hadn’t left it the way it had been the day he left for college like some parents did, creating a shrine to their children’s youth.
By the looks of things, this was a standard spare bedroom. A queen bed centered the room, with matching chests of drawers flanking either side. Pictures of Tyler from infancy through his years in the military littered
the bookcase against the wall. She found herself drawn to those pictures, as if somehow they could give her some clue to the man she’d spent almost a week with.
A week and yet it seemed longer, as if they’d made an intimate connection that made time irrelevant.
She picked up his high school graduation picture, tracing his smiling, youthful face with her fingertip. He still had that mischievous, little boy grin, like in the picture. His eyes shone with the brightness of youth—that feeling of immortality, the blissful ignorance of thinking you alone could change the world.
“I can’t believe she still has those pictures up.”
She spun around, shocked to hear Tyler’s voice behind her. He stood in the doorway, the mere sight of him enough to make her breath catch in her throat.
She was so damn glad he was back she wanted to throw her arms around him. And she was so pissed off at being dumped she wanted to kick him in the balls.
“Miss me?”
Trying desperately to avoid showing the joy she felt at his return, she willed her anger back, full force. She shot him her most scathing look. “Miss you? Hardly.”
“Oh, come on, Nevada,” he said as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Admit it. You were lonely without me around.”
“Actually, I wasn’t.” She replaced his picture on the chest and crossed the room, intending to close herself in the bathroom until she was able to get her riotous emotions under control. And when she did, they’d talk. But not right now. Not when one part of her wanted to kill him and the other part wanted to lick every inch of his body.
He grabbed her upper arm as she walked by, halting her escape. She looked at his hand and then met his eyes. “Let go of me.”
He released her arm. “Where are you going?”
Was he oblivious to her anger? “I’m going to get ready for bed.”
He pursed his lips and arched a dark eyebrow. “Really? Okay, I’ll wait.”