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“So why did he really close the blinds?”
“Dammit.” Ross straightened, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at Eva. “They followed him straight to you.”
“Never on purpose. He couldn’t have known anyone was that close,” Eva countered.
“Whoever is out there, he’s good,” Sheriff Cochran added. “Spread us thin with those staged emergencies, then took his shot.”
“Staged emergencies? No one else has been hurt today?”
“Not so far,” said the sheriff.
Theories bounced around between the other three and Carson felt like the odd man out again. Granted, he was, but if they trusted him to keep an eye on her—
“Hold on. Let’s back this up,” Ross interrupted. “Deputy Morris needs to know what he’s up against.”
While he appreciated that on one level, he didn’t care for the way Eva suddenly studied him like he was some sort of contagious germ under a microscope.
She turned an accusing look on her boss. “You’ve had him tailing me?” She ranted in Italian with what sounded like some German mixed in for emphasis. “Unbelievable.” Turning on Carson, she added, “I should have known.”
“Sounds like you need to get two of us up to speed,” Carson said. No way was he taking the brunt of her attitude or possible retaliation for this. It wasn’t his idea to keep her boss informed of her coming and going around town or to report any and all visitors. Which to date had only included him and Bart.
As assignments went, keeping an eye on a woman as vibrant and beautiful as Eva was no hardship. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to amend his earlier ‘prickly’ assessment and replace it with ‘complex’. Still, if she wanted to be angry with someone over his hovering, he’d prefer it if she aimed those emotions at Ross.
“Leave him alone,” Ross snapped. “He was helping me.”
There was an unholy gleam in Eva’s eyes. “Was that to smooth over any hard feelings that you once suspected him of murder?”
“What the hell?” Carson looked to the sheriff, who just shrugged.
“Be quiet, Eva. You’re just upset. Picking a fight won’t help.” Ross caught Carson’s gaze. “She can tell you about it later. You’ll have plenty of time because I want you two joined at the hip until this threat is resolved.”
A task all the more challenging now that any sincere personal progress he’d made with her was wiped out. Trying to be professional, he said, “You were about to explain the threat.”
Ross opened his mouth, but Eva interrupted with a raised hand.
“I botched the intel on a rescue mission when we were in the Army. The son of a powerful man had been taken hostage and we—well, the guys with guns—went in to get him out. If the son died, the uncle, a real nasty piece of work by the way, would inherit the business.” She paused, running a hand down her long ponytail. “No one wants that to happen, even if most people don’t know they don’t want it to happen. Are you tracking?”
He nodded.
“My job was to interpret the intel and guide the rescue team. I screwed up.”
“Maybe.”
She flicked a hand, dismissing Ross’s defense. “Do you speak Russian?”
“No,” Ross replied. “But—”
“Well, apparently I’m not as fluent as I thought.” She raised her eyes to Carson and her steely resolve made him ache for the heavy blame she carried. “The error was on me. I blew it and our team walked into more firepower than should have been there that night. The son died en route to the father even though Bart did all he could to save him.”
“The kidnappers had no intention of letting him live,” Ross said.
“Doesn’t matter. A bad analysis—myanalysis—of good intel was the problem.”
The body language between Ross and Eva gave him a more complete picture. “You think she was set up,” he said to Ross.
“I do. The mission was full of good intentions but it went straight to hell in a hurry.” He dropped a hand on her shoulder when she tried to interrupt him again. “Our current intel says the nut job we were trying to keep out of power has already taken over and is nipping loose ends to secure his position.”
“I don’t believe that,” Eva protested. “Abe Morcos isnotdead.”
