Gone Duck #5 (Romantic Suspense) by L.L. Muir

CHAPTER THIRTY
     
    Macey held her breath. Shawn’s arm tightened. They
might die in the next minute, but at least they were together. A silly,
romantic thought, but it was the only thing that kept her from freaking out and
embarrassing them both.
    “Not this one,” a man said. “An old man was in
here. The paramedics just took him away a few minutes ago. There was no one
else in the room.”
    “You are certain?” It sounded like Lacrosse
himself!
    “I was just in there. I was still here when they
left.”
    “Very well. Next!”
    Shawn’s grip remained. He had to be as shocked as
she was. Lacrosse had just been at their door—seven feet away—and the man had
moved on!
    She gasped. “Couldn’t you just kiss Dave right
now?” It was difficult to breathe with Shawn holding her tight and adrenaline
filling every cell of her body.
    Shawn removed his arm, then turned her. “I’d
rather kiss you,” he grumbled and pulled her roughly against him. But instead
of bending to reach her lips, he lifted her up to meet his. She caught the
flash of his smile before their lips met, and she supposed he was enjoying a little
adrenaline rush of his own. After a long, luxurious kiss, he lowered her to the
floor again and they exchanged a wide smile understood only by the recently
reprieved.
    They moved to the door and listened to the routine
repeating its way down the hall. Lacrosse’s shout of “Next!” eventually stopped
altogether.
    “I wonder if Dave’s friends will be back.”
    Knuckles rapped on the door three times, scaring
the crap out of them both. Shawn looked through the peep hole, then frowned at
her.
    “What?” she whispered.
    “I know one of them.”
    Her stomach sank with the weight of pure dread. If
Shawn knew the guy, it could mean one of two things. Either he was a former man
of Lacrosse, like Dave and Shawn, or he was a current one.
    The knock came again, only softer.
    She shrugged, leaving the decision up to Shawn.
    “If we want to see Dorothy Jean again, we have
little choice,” he whispered.
    She nodded and stood back. He opened the door and
let the two men inside.
    The tall one, who had first been following her to
the park, nodded at Shawn. “Parker.”
    “Kofford.”
    The guy’s gaze passed over her like she was just
another piece of furniture in the room. “I can’t believe you’re still here.” He
bent his head back. “You couldn’t have hidden in the ceiling. So how did
Lacrosse not see you? They’ve moved up to the fourth floor, by the way. Still
searching .”
    Shawn explained what had happened.
    Kofford laughed. “You’ve got some dumb luck, man.”
    “Yeah, I know. Can we get on with this, or what?”
    Shawn hadn’t looked her way since the Beanie Boys
had arrived. She figured he didn’t want them to know he gave a crap whether she
lived or died, so she folded her arms to keep from accidentally reaching out
for him if she got nervous.
    Kofford nodded, then exchanged a look with the
other guy—a look she didn’t care for.
    “Lacrosse has men at every exit,” the second man
said. “We’re going to split you two up, but just to get out of the building.
There is no way they’d let both of you walk past them. Oh.” He reached into his
pocket and Shawn tensed. “Here’s a nose for you. And some contacts. Kofford
will wait while you get them on. I’ll take the lady now.”
    Her head started shaking on its own. “No.”
    Shawn closed his eyes for a second, then nodded
his head. “Go ahead. We’ll be right behind you.” He gave her shoulder a
squeeze, then went to the vanity mirror and started unwrapping the little
package the guy had given him. “Next time you see me,” he said, “you won’t even
recognize me. So be warned.” His reflection gave her a meaningful look, but she
had no idea what that actual meaning was.
    “Yeah. Okay.” She could think of nothing
intelligent to say. “See ya.”
    “See ya.” He turned his attention to the nose.
    Kofford sat on