Striking Distance. Debra Webb

better and better. Seth was really on top of his game. He’d had his fingerprints altered.

      “It’s professional work, too, not a homemade job.”

      That’s why she hadn’t felt any particular roughness when he’d touched her. This wasn’t a hack job to alter any prints he’d leave behind, this was one of those cutting-edge “escape clinic” laser jobs. Very expensive, very cleverly done. Either Seth or the man he worked for knew how to remain anonymous.

      “If he calls,” she offered, “I can try and get a look around his place. See what I can find.”

      Maverick nodded. “Just be careful.” He looked at her a moment before he continued. “Lucas would like you to try and get a DNA sample. We don’t know how much good it’ll do, but it’s another avenue of identification.”

      The various ways a sample could be obtained flashed quickly through her mind. “All right.”

      Maverick looked away briefly before adding, “You know a shed hair won’t get us what we need. If you could lift his toothbrush or razor, assuming it’s not the electric type, that would be better.”

      She nodded. “Got it.”

      “Just be careful, North.” Maverick shook his head, his expression cluttered with more concern than she would have expected from a man of his background. “You’re right when you said there’s something off about this guy. He worries me more than most I’ve run across in my time. Lucas said the same thing.”

      At least she wasn’t the only one picking up those vibes. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

      That was a flat-out lie, but he didn’t need to know it. In the event that he was fishing for Lucas, she wasn’t about to give him any information that could discredit her in any way.

      “I’ll be right downstairs.” He glanced at her robe. “Don’t forget to put another patch in place.”

      “Will do.”

      When he’d gone, she retraced her damp path to the bathroom, drained the tub and cleaned up the mess she’d made. She set her weapon aside, reached into the medicine cabinet and got the box that contained the patches. To anyone else they looked like a simple birth control prescription. Lucas’s people covered every base. If her target decided to check her out, he’d find nothing that would suggest she wasn’t who she said she was. They’d even furnished the second bedroom of the apartment, complete with young, female wardrobe, to give the illusion of a roommate.

      Tasha pressed the patch into place and checked out her reflection. The bruise on her cheek was pretty much gone now, and her lip was way better. A dab of makeup and she’d be good to go. Her side was still a little tender, but not so bad.

      The firm knock on her front door made her jump. Damn, she was edgy. Forgetting her appearance for the moment she strode back into the living room. What did Maverick want now?

      She opened the door without bothering to check the peephole.

      Her target filled the doorway, those piercing blue eyes covered by dark shades.

      For one second she was sure she had to be imagining things, but she blinked and he was still there.

      He removed the concealing eyewear and focused that fierce gaze on her. “Ask me in.”

      A shiver raced across her skin as much from the sound of his deep voice as from those eyes. She summoned a semblance of control and stepped back, opening the door wide. “Come on in.”

      He reached down and picked up a bag she hadn’t noticed since she was too busy staring at those unsettling eyes. Idiot, she railed silently. Details. She wasn’t supposed to miss any.

      Once he’d stepped inside, he closed and locked the door behind him. That move should have set her on edge but didn’t. Maverick and Ramon would be watching. Her apartment was rigged for surveillance. Seth looked at her, surveyed her lack of proper attire and then settled his gaze on hers. “I have a job for you.”

      For just a second it kind of annoyed her that she found not a glimmer of approval in his eyes. She was standing there naked but for the robe, and he didn’t even notice. God knew that she’d absorbed every damned detail about him. Black T-shirt beneath a pale blue cotton button-up shirt. The telltale bulge of the weapon he wore, well-fitting jeans and those made-for-traction ankle boots. If she hadn’t enjoyed the perusal so much she could have chalked it up to merely being part of her job. But the heat funneling beneath her belly button made a liar out of her. She pushed the disturbing sensation away.

      “What kind of job?”

      “You need money, right?” He said this as he surveyed what he could see of her apartment. It was a nice enough place and wasn’t the reason he asked the question. She remembered telling him that she didn’t have a job yet and was pretty much broke from coughing up her share of the rent.

      “Yeah, I need money,” she said bluntly. “But not badly enough to do anything illegal.” She looked him up and down, pausing briefly at his crotch. She looked away just as quickly. Either the guy stayed aroused all the time or he was extremely well endowed. Why she would notice and why it would have such an effect was beyond her. What the hell was wrong with her?

      “There’s nothing to worry about.” He offered her the shopping bag he carried. “Put this on.”

      Still trying to read his expression, which was impossible, she accepted the bag that turned out to be a good deal heavier than it looked. Inside was a brown uniform. “What’s this?” Her senses moved to a higher state of alert. Even folded up as it was she recognized the delivery-service getup.

      “I’d like you to make a delivery for me. It’s very simple.”

      “What kind of delivery?”

      When he looked at her this time, there was no way to miss his impatience. That he allowed her to see the emotion surprised her and served as a warning at the same time.

      “Don’t ask so many questions.”

      She shrugged and headed to the bedroom with the bag in hand. For a second or two she allowed the elation of his return to bolster the nagging worry over where this might be headed. For the moment he was back, and that was all that mattered.

      Moving quickly, she dragged on a pair of panties and a bra. Surprisingly the uniform was a good fit. Maybe he’d noticed more than he’d let on. The weight in the bag was the shoes. He’d thought of everything.

      She brushed her hair and pulled it up with a claw clip, grabbed her purse and sunglasses and readied for whatever the hell he had in mind.

      He waited right where she’d left him. Maverick and Ramon would know whether he’d looked around. She would find out later.

      Seth scrutinized her from head to toe. “Perfect.”

      “Why not just have the package delivered in the usual manner?” she asked as they exited her apartment.

      “I have my reasons.”

      She locked her door and followed him to the stairs. Fourteen floors, either the guy had a phobia where elevators were concerned or he didn’t want to get trapped in one in case he had to make a run for it.

      He didn’t speak again even after they were in his SUV and headed into city traffic, which was no big surprise. He only spoke when he had something to say or she forced a response out of him. She occupied herself with attempting to determine their destination.

      A few minutes later he parked in the lot of a large office building right off the Magnificent Mile, Chicago’s main street of shops, restaurants and ritzy office buildings.

      He reached into the back seat and picked up a package. Eight-by-ten, she estimated. Wrapped in a plain brown paper. Addressed to... She leaned toward him slightly to read the name and address.

      The name slammed into her with all the force of a runaway train.