Page 26 of Deadly Target
7
Victor stood at the hospital entrance watching Olivia drive off. He hadn’t been joking about checking for bombs but he’d never dreamt she’d invite him into the backseat. The last time he’d fooled around in a car was ages ago. High school.
Completely unprofessional.What is wrong with me?he asked himself for the umpteenth time.
The cool thing was, after their initial make-out session, they’d started talking and ended up doing nothing more than spooning in the backseat. Just holding each other.
It was…nice.
Better than nice.
Olivia brought him peace even when he was in the midst of chaos. Her presence calmed him. Rejuvenated him.
Still feeling the aftereffects, he didn’t hear Roman approach from behind.
“Sorry about the interruption,” Roman said. “Clearance just came down for a temporary taskforce to dig deeper into this situation. We’ve got forty-eight hours to come up with solid leads.”
It wasn’t much, but they’d worked with less. “Thank you. We have the information Thomas got from Agent Marin, and a possible connection between the Suarez Kings and the Fifty-seven Gang, or at least the California branch run by DeStefano and Molina. We also have the description of a member of the Kings that Cooper saw at the park, along with the car he left in. I have clothes and some other stuff to bring to Thomas and Ronni at the safe house. Why don’t you follow me and we’ll set up an office there to start digging and find where the connections lead?”
A large black limo pulled up to the curb as Victor spoke. A second later, the driver jumped out to open the door for the passenger in the backseat. As Victor saw the long legs emerging from the car, Roman’s answer turned into background noise.
Tracee Tyson loved the spotlight and called attention to herself anywhere, anytime, even when exiting a car. Her long dark hair had gentle waves in it, like she’d just come from the beach, but her makeup was perfect, and the short skirt and tank top she wore were clearly designer. Her 5’10” frame didn’t need a height boost from the three-inch heels on her feet, but they accentuated her toned calves perfectly.
“Is that…?” Roman’s voice drifted off, a common occurrence when Tracee appeared. People—especially men—suddenly became tongue-tied, her beauty and fame merging into a lethal cocktail that left them speechless.
With the tilt of her head, she smiled at Victor and those long, sexy legs of hers carried her right to him. “Vic, sweetheart.” Eye to eye with him, she air kissed his cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Tracee? What are you doing here?”
His famous ex-fiancée gave him a pouty look. “I heard about your friend and knew you’d be here. That’s the kind of person you are, and I wanted to lend my support. It’s awful what happened.” She ran a hand along his forehead, smoothing his brow. “How are you holding up?”
She was a damn good actress, and that had always been part of the problem when they were dating. He never knew when she was acting and when she wasn’t. At first, he’d believed everything she’d said. Later, when their relationship began to struggle under the weight of his job and her career, he became jaded enough he didn’t believe anything.
He hadn’t seen her in nearly three years, except on the covers of magazines and in movie trailers. Her light brown skin and gorgeous turquoise eyes were as youthful as ever. She was in her early thirties, but could still play the role of a twenty-something with ease.
She turned to Roman, sizing him up. “Hi, I’m Tracee, and you are?”
Roman seemed to snap out of his star-induced haze, shooting Victor an inquisitive look, but catching on quick. “A friend. I’ll leave you two to catch up. See you inside.”
Victor knew he wasn’t intentionally being rude by not engaging in small talk with Tracee, he simply didn’t want to waste time on it. The clock was ticking, and they all had work to do.
And Victor knew his ex had not made a special trip from LA to support him. “You could have called.”
She gave a halfhearted shrug. “I was in the neighborhood. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t stop by to see how you’re doing? You still mean a lot to me, Vic.”
In the neighborhood. There was the real answer. Her favorite spa, which doubled as a high-priced rehab center, nestled in the desert not far from the city. Her drug problem had started at a young age, and deep in his soul, Victor had naïvely thought he could save her when they were together. They were quite the power couple, after all, and he was good at saving people.
How many times had he covertly checked her into the spa? How many times had he helped her through withdrawal? Even threatening to put her in jail hadn’t done the trick, and eventually, as their relationship continued to fall apart, he’d thrown her dealer in prison. Within days of completing yet another rehab stint, he’d found her passed out on the bathroom floor, cocaine dust under her nose.
Tracee never went anywhere without paparazzi following her, and sure enough, as he scanned the parking lot, he saw a man with a camera duck behind an SUV. A car trolled the lot, bypassing open spaces, probably another tabloid reporter.
Great, that’s all he needed. “It’s good to see you,” he lied, “but I have to get back to work.”
He turned to go and she grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Vic, I’m sorry. I really am. Don’t go. I want to talk. Like the old days. I’m clean now, and I’d really like us to try again. I mean it. For real this time. You were the best thing I ever had in my life. I know that now.”
The same old words. He remembered the hope he’d always felt when she said them.I’m clean. I’m sorry. Let’s try again.Now, all he felt was an odd detachment.
“I’m seeing someone.”And even if I wasn’t, there’s no way I’d go down that rabbit hole with you again.“But I wish you all the best, like always.”
