But he was. Something about Kira made him want to tell her things straight.
“But back to your question.” He leveled a look at her. “What kind of threat is this? How worried should you be?”
Her eyes turned wary, and it looked like she was bracing herself.
“In my opinion, both shootings were professional jobs.”
She watched him steadily.
“By professional, I mean that the gunman was hired, not that he’s very good at it. He’s an average shot if you look at the ballistics.”
She smiled nervously. “Great. So I shouldn’t be worried?”
“No. You should. The problem is he’s brazen. He walked right into that house and fired rounds at three people, then calmly filled a duffel bag and left. He may be a crappy shot, but he has nerves of steel, and that’s concerning.”
“Concerning. Yeah.”
“Also, he knows how to blend in. The clothes, the car, the confidence. All of it tells me he’s comfortable in his targets’ environment, and when you combine that with the BMW? That tells me he has money, or at least he’s around it.”
“Someone rich is paying him.”
Jeremy nodded. “And when you combine that with this new evidence that Andre Markov is involved in some kind of shady business down on the ship channel . . .” He trailed off, and she waited for him to finish. “It’s looking more and more like a crime syndicate.”
She shuddered.
“I’m not trying to scare you, but—”
“Sure you are. If I’m scared, I’m less likely to push back when you guys tell me what to do. You want me scared. You want all of us scared.” She stood abruptly.
“Hey.”
“No, I get it. I’d do the same thing if I were you. Tell the client she’s on a hit list, that some crime syndicate is after her, ensure full cooperation.”
He stared up at her. She looked pissed now. And rattled, too. And okay, yes, that had been part of his objective from the start of this conversation.
She carried the pizza box to the minibar and tossed it onto the counter.
“Sorry.” She rubbed her forehead. “I know I started this.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I’m being a bitch, it’s just . . .”
Jeremy stood and walked over. It was dim beside the window with the drapes closed, but he could still see the strain on her face.
“It’s been a long day, with the funeral and the detectives, and everything last night . . .” She trailed off again and looked away.
And she hadn’t been sleeping. He could tell just by looking at her that she was on edge and had been for days. He knew how to relax her and get her mind off everything, but he was not going to go there, and he needed to get the fuck out of her hotel room. Where was Trent?
He checked his watch. “Listen, Kira—”
“Do me a favor, will you?” She stepped closer, and her eyes looked different now. Heated, but in a way they hadn’t been a second ago. And he got the sense she knew exactly what he’d been thinking about.
She eased closer, close enough for him to smell her hair again, that subtle floral scent he noticed every time he was around her.
“Will you?”
He cleared his throat. “What is it?”
“Stay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I WANT TO keep talking. We don’t have to talk about the job or anything, just . . .” She looked around. “Let’s have a drink.”
He gazed down at her, and she could see some sort of battle going on in his head. He wanted to stay. She could tell. She sensed he wanted to do a lot of things, but he was determined to hold back.
She tipped her head to the side. “Please?”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and she knew she had him.
“One drink,” he said.
She opened the minibar and crouched to examine the contents. She spied the bottle of Jameson and felt a pang in her chest. Ollie had given her a bottle for Christmas last year, and it was collecting dust in the back of her cupboard. It seemed like fate that the same brand was here in her minibar tonight.
Without looking at Jeremy, she flipped over the pair of glasses on a silver tray and poured them each a shot. She handed him a glass and took a deep breath.
“To Ollie.” She wanted to say more, but there was suddenly a rock in her throat. She clinked her glass with Jeremy’s and took a swig.
Jeremy watched her as he took a sip. She turned and pushed aside the curtain to open the slider and step outside. The suite’s balcony overlooked a swimming pool. Rain pitter-pattered on the water, dimpling the surface.
The lights went off, and Kira turned around.
“You don’t want a silhouette,” Jeremy said as he stepped out.
It took her a moment to get it. “Oh. You mean in case—”
“Yeah.”
She stifled a shudder, even though it was eighty-five degrees out. She couldn’t imagine thinking about assassins all the time.
Kira knew she was more aware than the average person, given what she did for a living. It was second nature to her to watch her mirrors and check her reflection in windows to make sure she didn’t have a tail. But all that was different. She wasn’t used to being a target.
“We’ve got a man in the courtyard.” Jeremy nodded toward the pool four stories below, and Kira noticed the uniformed guard stationed beside a lamppost. She’d noticed him earlier when she’d been out here on the phone.
“I thought he was with the hotel?”
“He’s ours. Uniform is just for show. And we’ve got another agent on patrol of the perimeter.”
“Sounds like you thought of everything.”
He didn’t comment.
Kira leaned back against the wall, watching the rain as the whiskey began to warm her. Jeremy propped his shoulder against the wall and looked at her. He hadn’t brought his glass out, she noticed. That had been for show, too. He wasn’t actually going to be her drinking buddy tonight. He was holding back, keeping his distance, and she knew it was because of what happened before.
Kira took another sip and looked out over the pool. The scent of chlorine wafted up, and she remembered the same scent at Brock’s the other night.
“You all right?”
She looked at him, and his face was shadowed, but she could still see the outline. He had strong cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. And then there were those beautiful blue eyes that she couldn’t really see right now. But she knew from the furrow in his brow that he was worried about her.
“I’m fine.” She sighed. “Just thinking about the day.” She shook her head. “I hated seeing Ollie’s family hurting. He was nuts over those grandkids. They’re really going to miss him.”
She was really going to miss him. She already did.
“You know, Ollie was my one real friend in the business. All my contacts at the courthouse—they’re passing acquaintances. Ollie was different. He took an interest in me from day one and set me on a career path. He was my mentor every step of the way. Even when he was driving me crazy, I learned from him.”
She took another sip, and the whiskey slid down her throat, smooth as velvet.
“Liam’s like that for me.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “We don’t always agree, but I always respect his judgment. He’s a good man.”
“I respected Ollie, too.” She hadn’t realized how much until now. “Even when he used me, I didn’t mind.”