Striking Distance. Debra Webb

thought out.”

      “That’s why we couldn’t get your signal back,” Maverick concluded. “I’m certain he had a jammer in his vehicle, but after that I couldn’t be sure what happened. He stashed you underground, that explains it. You had me worried for a while.”

      She nodded. She’d been a little worried herself. “This morning he brought me back upstairs. I didn’t get a good look around, but the place looked fully furnished with the usual household goods. I imagine his private space was on the second floor. I didn’t get that far.”

      “Do you think you made enough of an impression to see him again?” Lucas wanted to know. He was watching her closely, assessing her state after her first encounter with the target.

      She moved her hands over her face and through her hair. “I think so. Maybe. It’s difficult to tell. He’s so guarded.” She looked directly at Lucas then, or at least at his image. “There’s something wrong with this guy, Lucas. Something really wrong.”

      “Anything you picked up on could be helpful. I’ve got a profiler standing by.”

      She nodded. “It’s more than just the fact that he kills for a living, obviously.” She tried to think how to label it...but nothing that came to mind felt accurate. “He’s deeply troubled. I got the distinct impression that he’s not afraid of anything, death included.” She shrugged. “It’s weird. It was nearly impossible to get any kind of reaction out of him. It’s like he blocks all emotion. Doesn’t feel a thing. And the scars.” She shook her head as she thought of the marks on his body. “I’ve never seen so many. He’s had it rough at some point. But the lack of emotion was the biggest thing I noticed. I could scarcely get a reaction out of him at all.”

      Ramon lifted a skeptical brow and eyed her skimpy attire. “Are you sure he isn’t dead?”

      A pained laugh burst from her. “Oh, no. He’s very much alive...just buried somehow.”

      “What about prints?” Maverick tossed into the conversation. “We could ID this guy if he’s in the system.”

      Lucas nodded. “Possibly, but we’ve run his picture through the system and didn’t find anything. Still, there’s always the possibility that he’s had his appearance altered. Did he give you a name?”

      “Seth.” Tasha tugged off first one boot, then the other. She reached into her right boot for her cell phone, handling it carefully. “He handled the boots and the phone.”

      Maverick and Ramon took custody of the items.

      “I don’t think that’s his real name, though. Not that I expected to get the real thing,” Tasha said to Lucas. “But I studied Egyptian mythology as an elective in college. Seth was a sort of dark god, a slayer. The irony of it is too coincidental I think.”

      Lucas nodded his agreement. “We’ll see what we can find on the name Seth. It may be an alias he’s used before.”

      “What now?” she asked Lucas, then glanced at the two men who served as her backup.

      “Now we wait,” Lucas announced.

      That felt like such a waste of time. Tasha spread her hands in a gesture of uncertainty. “Maybe I should have tried to plant some sort of tracking device on him. He could be meeting with the guy who hired him right now and you can’t allow a tail to get close enough to find out.” She didn’t want Lucas disappointed in her performance and he certainly hadn’t given her any real reason to think he was pleased at this point.

      Maverick spoke up first. “No way, little lady. This guy’s a pro. He’d have found it, known you were the one who planted it, and that would have been the end of that, if you get my drift.”

      She nodded. The end of her, no doubt. “You’re right. It just feels like I should have done more. He has my number, but who knows if he’ll call.”

      “You got a lot farther than we expected for a first encounter,” Lucas said pointedly. “And you’re alive to tell about it. He’ll call.”

      She supposed that was close enough to a pat on the back. And she sure as hell hoped he was right.

      There was only one thing she could do now.

      Wait.

      Chapter 15

      Tasha moaned softly as the steam rose around her. It felt so good to just soak for a while. She’d taken a shower after her debrief this morning, then a power nap that lasted for three hours. But this...this was pure luxury. She needed this. Her muscles loosened...relaxed as the heat chased away the stress and soreness. It might just take hours to soothe all the kinks and stiffness.

      She apparently had the time. He hadn’t called.

      Her eyes opened and she lay there, her gaze searching for anything in the foggy room to focus on. She didn’t want to think about him...not yet. Draping her arms along the sides of the tub, she forced his image away.

      But not quickly enough. An entirely different kind of heat coiled inside her. She cursed herself for allowing it. He was a killer...the enemy. And yet, somehow he’d gotten to her on a level over which she had no control. It was totally unbelievable. She tried hard to pinpoint the precise root of the feeling. It wasn’t sympathy. There was a definite physical attraction, despite his lack of personality. But that wasn’t such a big deal. As Ramon would say, she wasn’t dead. Any woman breathing would be attracted to Seth on a physical level. But she could handle that. He was an assassin...a very dangerous man...a bad guy...the enemy. Taking him down wouldn’t be a problem.

      That last thought echoed hollowly. “Shit,” she muttered. This couldn’t happen. She’d just met the guy. Taking him down was her mission...but something felt wrong.

      How could she even think about screwing up this badly? She shook her head slowly from side to side. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Lucas Camp had come to her! She couldn’t let anything get in the way. Why the hell had she chosen psychology for her major, anyway? If she hadn’t, maybe then she wouldn’t have bothered looking beneath the surface.

      She scrubbed a hand over her face and cursed herself again. This wasn’t about what made the guy tick. This was about stopping a killer—a hired assassin—before he accomplished his mission. Her primary goal, outside seeing that he didn’t accomplish his, was making the connection between him and the man who hired him. Nothing else mattered. All those scars... The overwhelming feeling that he was as much a victim as those he hunted was of no consequence.

      He would be stopped, one way or another. And so would the man who’d hired him. Lucas’s intentions were crystal clear. He wanted this guy dead. Tasha felt it all the way to her bones. It was personal somehow.

      A knock at the front door jerked her from her troubling thoughts. Water sloshed as she pushed upright. Her heart kicked into a faster rhythm.

      She shifted to her feet, the steam rising off her skin, and stepped out of the tub onto the fluffy bath mat. Shouldering into the robe without bothering to towel dry, she reached for her weapon next.

      As she padded down the short hall, her bare feet leaving a trail of water, she chambered a round in the weapon Maverick had given her. Another knock rattled the hinges as she crossed the living room. She peered through the peephole, her heart pounding, and saw Maverick.

      Heaving a relieved sigh, she shook off the tension and opened the door. “What’s up?”

      Maverick stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him. “Just wanted you to know that we lifted his prints from your cell phone but they were useless.” He passed the phone back to her.

      A frown nagged at her forehead. “He wasn’t in the system?” The guy was clearly a high-end professional, getting caught wouldn’t be in keeping with his skill level. And unless he’d been caught and charged with some crime, he wouldn’t be in any system.

      He shook his head and handed