the fully furnished home.
She didn’t waste time settling in. While Cole and Declan’s Defenders searched the web for information on Chris Carpenter, CJ would follow the man and learn what she could about his habits and who he talked to. She might be chasing shadows, but the text he’d sent to Tully prior to the NSC assault was all she had to go on. It could have meant nothing. The text could have been a legitimate effort to make sure all was in place, nothing more.
All other coordination for the meeting had been done via emails throughout the weeks prior to the get-together. A text would have been appropriate for a last-minute adjustment to the arrangements. Or it could have been information regarding the attack.
Though CJ had a laptop and could access the internet by tapping into Wi-Fi at internet cafés or libraries, she couldn’t delve into the dark web anymore. Somehow, Trinity had found her and traced her IP address to the library. She could continue to hack into phone records and other sources of information, but they were getting too close.
Needing additional clothing and disguises, she shoved her hair up into a ball cap, dressed in a long gray sweater that hid her figure, and sunglasses. Disguised as best she could, CJ left the town house to visit a couple thrift shops. She found items that would help her to blend in and make her as invisible as possible. She even found a skirt suit that might come in handy if she wanted to get closer to some of the politicians on Capitol Hill. The total of her purchases barely made a dent in her cash. Afterward, she made a quick trip to the grocery store and stocked up on a few items she’d need to keep from having to eat fast foods. Once she’d unloaded the food and staples in the refrigerator and pantry, she put on a black wig, a different pair of glasses and a hooded sweatshirt and went out to scout the neighborhood thoroughly. Knowing where to go on short notice was always a good idea.
Stepping out on the sidewalk, she started toward Cole’s place. On the bottom step of the next town house, a stooped old woman stood with one hand on a cane, the other on a leash. At the end of the leash was a white ball of fluff.
“Good afternoon,” the woman called out with a smile. “You must be the one subletting the Anderson place.”
Normally, CJ didn’t stop to talk to anyone. But the woman and her dog didn’t appear to pose a threat. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Rebecca.” She didn’t bother holding out her hand since the older woman’s were both occupied.
The woman nodded. “Gladys Oliver.”
CJ squatted beside the dog. “And who do we have here?” The little dog wiggled and jumped up on CJ, excited to meet someone new.
“Sweet Pea, named after one of my favorite flowers,” Gladys said. “Down, girl.” Her gentle tug on the dog’s leash had little effect. “My granddaughter got me the dog, but she’s still a puppy and needs a lot more exercise than these old bones can give her. I’m thinking I might have to give her back.” The woman’s brow furrowed. “She’s such a sweet thing. I hate to give her up.”
“I’m going for a walk now,” CJ said. “I could take her with me, and she could burn off some energy, if you like.”
The old woman’s blue eyes brightened. “You would do that?”
“Certainly.”
“I mean, it’s not like you’re really a stranger. I know where you live and all.” Gladys handed over the leash. “She’s really no trouble. Just needs to move a little faster than I do. If you’re sure it’s not a bother...”
“We’ll do just fine together.” CJ smiled at Gladys. “We’ll be back in twenty or thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be inside. Just knock when you’re back. I’ll come to the door.” Gladys leaned down to pat the little dog on the head. “You be a good girl for Rebecca,” she said and scratched Sweet Pea behind the ears.
Her disguise complete with a dog in tow, CJ walked along the sidewalk, letting Sweet Pea take her time sniffing every tree, mailbox, bush and blade of grass along the way. The dog’s interest in her surroundings gave CJ plenty of time to study the homes, the street and places Trinity agents could be hiding, or where she could hide if she needed to.
Soon, she passed the town house where Cole lived. It looked much like the rest of the homes on the street. Two-story, narrow front, a four-foot-wide gap between it and the townhomes on either side, which she walked through to learn more. A five-foot-tall wooden fence surrounded a postage-stamp-size backyard. Nothing CJ couldn’t scale, if she had to. Without actually climbing the fence, she couldn’t see what the back of the house had to offer in the way of doors, windows or trees. It was comforting to know he was only a few doors down from where she was staying.
She moved on, back to the front, studying the other houses and alleys all the way to the end of the long street where it turned onto a busy road. CJ turned left and kept walking, sticking to the sidewalk. A block away, there was a small strip mall with a hamburger place on one end and a pizza joint on the other. In between was a liquor store, a nail salon and an insurance agent.
Across the busy thoroughfare was a tattoo parlor, a pawnshop and a Chinese restaurant.
For the first few blocks, Sweet Pea led the way, tugging at the leash, eager to keep going. When she started to slow and hang back with CJ, it was time to turn around and get her home to her owner.
CJ performed an about-face and started back. When she turned the corner onto the street where she lived, her gaze went to Cole’s place. She wondered if he was home. How easy would it be to stop in and say hello, like a regular person?
Still a few houses away, she heard the sound of running footsteps coming from behind.
CJ spun to face a man jogging toward her, wearing only shorts and running shoes. His body was poetry in motion, his muscles tight and well-defined. Every inch of exposed skin glistened with sweat.
Cole McCastlain. The man who wanted to be her protector.
She recognized him from the one time she’d been to Charlie Halverson’s estate, immediately following the rescue of Anne Bellamy and the vice president of the United States. At that time, CJ hadn’t been wearing a wig. She’d been without any disguise, her auburn hair hanging down around her shoulders.
Using the back of his arm, he wiped the sweat from his eyes and kept running toward her.
A tug on the leash reminded CJ of Sweet Pea. The dog had crossed the sidewalk to the opposite side, her leash creating a line in front of Cole. CJ crossed to the same side of the sidewalk to keep Cole from tripping over the leash.
He ran past her, the muscles in his legs flexing and tightening with each long stride.
A rush of relief washed over her, at the same time as a flush of heat.
The man had tone and definition in each muscle of his body, from his shoulders, down his chest, to his abs, thighs and calves. She bet she could bounce a quarter off his backside.
As he passed, he shot a sideways glance her way. For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t slow, or stop, but kept moving. When he reached his town house, he ran up the steps and disappeared inside.
CJ inhaled a deep breath, amazed at how much she needed it. Had she forgotten how to breathe in the presence of the former marine? She told herself she wasn’t ready to do anything that would connect Cole to her. If Trinity was watching Declan’s Defenders,
