Copy That. HelenKay Dimon
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“It’s just stuff,” he whispered, but his voice rose above the sirens, squealing tires and the older woman who stood in the street and wailed in horror about “the devil’s heat”…whatever that meant.
Through it all Meredith felt the heat of Jeremy’s stare and finally faced him. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” He glanced down to where she had his shirt in a stranglehold.
“Sorry.” She forced her fingers to unclench.
“No problem.”
“Everything is gone.” She didn’t know she’d said the words out loud until Jeremy grunted. She looked at him again, watching him scan the crowd. Tension radiated off him as every muscle pulled taut. “Are you okay?”
“We need to get out of here.” He glanced at a point over her shoulder and gave a small nod.
“What are you—”
He stood, stopping about halfway up as his lips turned white and he swore.
“Jeremy.” Seeing him in pain, she jumped to her feet and slipped her shoulder under his arm to help him the rest of the way up. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said through clenched teeth, as he signaled to someone behind her. “At least we know what was probably in that mystery package.”
“A bomb.”
“I saw a guy hold up a cell phone, likely a secondary trigger, right before I bolted down the steps.”
Her mind rebelled. Rather than dealing with what he was saying, she shifted to nurse mode. “You need medical attention.”
“Later. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?” She struggled under his weight. “And please say ‘to the hospital.’”
“Somewhere safe.”
When the black SUV stopped in front of them and the back door opened, she wondered if his idea of safe looked anything like hers.
Chapter Three
The driver opened the door and slid out of his seat. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked the four steps to the sidewalk. The fire crackled around them and more people gathered as the wailing sirens drew closer.
The man lowered his sunglasses but gave the flames little more than a quick glance. His unblinking attention focused on Jeremy as his eyes narrowed. “Garrett?”
Through a haze of pain, radiating from his side and screaming through every cell, Jeremy conducted a visual check of his own. He detected two weapons under slight bulges and assumed there were at least twice as many hidden beneath the other man’s out-of-place black jacket and dark jeans.
The combination of the heat, fire and heavy clothing would melt most guys in a matter of seconds. Not this one. Not a drop of sweat on him. The cool cockiness almost convinced Jeremy without verification that this was one of Garrett’s men. Almost.
“I’m his brother.” Jeremy left his badge in his back pocket, since his face made his connection to Garrett clear. “You?”
“We need to leave.”
“No way am I getting in that car,” Meredith whispered under her breath as she inched her way to Jeremy’s far side.
He understood. Smart women stayed on constant guard. They didn’t trust men they didn’t know and they certainly didn’t get into cars with two strangers. He appreciated the fear, even admired her smarts, but she still didn’t have a choice. Until he knew what was going on and who had launched the attack, he planned to stay close.
First, he had to confirm the identity of their driver. Danger pulsed all around them without adding more.
“Westfield 78.” The man said the prearranged security code.
The tension strangling Jeremy’s shoulders eased. “Durham 72.”
“Excuse me?” She looked from one man to the other. “Are we just saying random words?”
Jeremy fought off a smile for the first time since this whole mess started. “An old high-school basketball score.”
Her eyes bulged. “Is now the time for that?”
The man nodded. “Joel Kidd.”
Jeremy knew the name. Garrett never talked about his operations, only the team he’d handpicked and admired. His success depended on being surrounded by loyal men who could fight, then blend into their surroundings for a quick getaway.
Joel glanced in the direction where the house had once stood. “Tell me Garrett’s not in there.”
“He isn’t.” Jeremy inhaled long and deep in an effort to bring his heartbeat out of thumping range and focus his thoughts.
“Hostiles?”
“Two in the house. One definitely went out in a ball of fire because he was unconscious. Unconfirmed on the other. Could be more on the scene.”
A fire truck raced around the end of the block and headed right for them. As it sped up, Joel’s detachment faded. “Authorities are here, which means questions. We need to leave.”
Meredith frowned. “If by ‘authorities’ you mean police, then no. They’re the good guys.” When neither man said anything, Meredith’s frown deepened. “Right?”
Joel opened the back door. “Get in.”
Meredith pivoted, her body facing away from him as if ready for flight. “Not to sound like I have trust issues, but no.”
“You know me.” Jeremy waved Joel off when his hand shifted to his hip. Jeremy knew what that meant. “It’s safe.”
One nod or an eyebrow lift and Joel would render her unconscious. Jeremy preferred to have her permission for this trip. It would make whatever came next much easier if she trusted him. He also hated the idea of taking a woman out even if it qualified as the safest way of extracting a potential victim.
“I know your brother, not you. And it would appear I barely know him.” She sneaked her third peek at the police car stopping a house away.
“Same thing.”
“Not quite.”
Joel shoved his glasses back on his nose and dropped his hands to his sides. “I can put her in the car.”
She whipped around to face him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing good.” Which was why Jeremy refused to use that option.
She inched