Her Perfect Mate Page 14

  “Want half?”

  Ivy lifted a brow. “Are you serious? That thing probably has enough calories to feed a small nation.”

  He chuckled. “I thought you might say that, so I bought you this instead.” He pulled out a muffin covered in rolled oats and handed it to her. “The woman behind the counter said it was healthy.”

  Ivy stared down at the muffin. Wow, a guy who realized she probably wanted to eat something other than a cream-filled time bomb. Or a can of cat food, like her previous partner had brought her. The jerk would drop it in her lap and make some snide remark about making sure he got something with a pop top since the store didn’t sell can openers. It had annoyed the hell out of her.

  “The muffin okay?”

  She looked up to see Landon regarding her curiously. She smiled. “It’s great. Thanks. That was nice of you.”

  He flashed her a grin. “I’m a nice guy. Which is why I brought you this to go with it.” He reached into the bag again and pulled out a small cup of coffee. “No milk.”

  Before she could get too enamored by him, he dipped into the bag one more time and brought out a blue ball of yarn, then rolled it across the table to her. If Dave had done something like that, it would have been condescending, but with Landon, it was touching.

  “Very funny.”

  Just then John and another man walked into the conference room. She barely had time to snatch the offending ball of string and hide it under the table on her lap.

  Landon let out a soft chuckle. “I knew you’d like it but didn’t figure you’d get so possessive about it already.”

  John came around to the head of the table and turned on the computer that was hooked up to the projector. “What was that?

  “Nothing, John.” Landon gave her a roguish smile. “We were just talking about a toy I bought for my cat.”

  His cat? Ivy knew she shouldn’t, but for some ridiculous reason, she liked the way that sounded. It probably had something to do with how much fun she had dancing with Landon at the club the other night. As embarrassing as it was to admit, it was the closest she’d been to sex in a long time, and she’d been turned on like crazy. If Diaz hadn’t interrupted them, she might have done something she would have regretted. Like slid her hand down his chest to the obvious bulge in his jeans.

  She wasn’t the only one who’d been aroused. For all his cool, professional demeanor, Landon had been horny as hell—she could smell it. Her partner put off a particularly scrumptious pheromone when he was turned on. It wasn’t fair for him to smell that good.

  John looked up sharply, a frown creasing his brow. “You have a cat?”

  “Oh, yeah. An exotic long-hair beauty.” Landon sent another grin her way. “But she’s picky. Never likes anything I buy her.”

  Ivy kicked him under the table hard enough to make him grunt.

  Thankfully, John didn’t notice. He introduced the man who’d come in with him as Evan Lloyd from the intel branch, then clicked the computer keys. Two photos appeared on the screen. One was of a pretty woman in her thirties with long, blond hair. The other was of a slightly older man with gray touching the sides of his hair and sprinkling his well-trimmed beard.

  “The woman is Doctor Zarina Sokolov. She works at the Minsk Institute of Research in Moscow. She’s an expert in DNA splicing and manipulation, among other things too technical for me to understand. The man is Doctor Jean Renard. He works for a French pharmaceutical firm outside of Paris called Pharmaceutiques Nouveaux. His specialty is in the emerging science of…” He looked at his notes. “Segment-specific nucleases.”

  “Nucleases are enzyme proteins that break down select portions of the DNA strand,” Evan said.

  Landon looked from the intel guy to John. “Outside of working in the same field, how are Zarina Sokolov and Jean Renard connected?”

  “They both disappeared over four months ago,” John said.

  Ivy peeled the wrapper off her oat muffin. “And you assume foul play?”

  “Not at first. The cases were a thousand miles apart, being investigated by separate local police agencies who thought both Sokolov and Renard had some kind of midlife crisis. That they simply left home and never came back. But Renard’s wife had a friend in INTERPOL by the name of Giraud and got him to dig deeper.”

  Landon took a big bite out of the cream-filled donut. Ivy licked her lips. It might be fattening as hell, but it looked damn good.

  “Giraud discovered Renard’s disappearance had similarities to Sokolov’s, which sent up a red flag,” John continued. “Even though they worked in the same field, they’d never met. There’s nothing to indicate they’d even heard of each other.”

  Ivy nibbled her muffin and took a swig of coffee. Somehow Landon had known exactly how she took it—plenty sweet.

  “But then Giraud stumbled on something interesting,” John said. “Sokolov and Renard were both approached by the same headhunter a few days before they disappeared. No one knew about it because both doctors turned down the offers, but Giraud found a business card for the headhunting agency in Renard’s office. It turned out to be a dummy corporation. Giraud dug through fake documents of incorporation and email traffic until the trail led to this man.”

  Another face appeared on the screen. Middle-aged, he had close-cropped hair and eyes so cold they made Ivy shiver. He was the kind of man who looked like he enjoyed pulling the wings off butterflies.

  “This is Keegan Stutmeir, former East German Stasi Secret Police and currently wanted on a couple dozen international arms dealing charges. We’re not sure what use he’d have for Sokolov and Renard, and unfortunately, Giraud was murdered before he could uncover anything else.”

  Stutmeir was the guy she and Landon had heard John mention the other day.

  Landon unscrewed the cap from the bottle of milk. “Stutmeir?”

  “Almost certainly,” John said. “Giraud’s apartment was ransacked, and his field notes and laptop were missing. Fortunately, he kept all his notes backed up on an INTERPOL server, which is how we know about Stutmeir.”

  Ivy reached across the table and grabbed the milk from Landon’s hand so she could add some to her coffee, then gave it back to him. “Where do we come in?”

  “Two more DNA experts went missing here in the U.S. about six weeks ago,” Evan answered. “Both within a few days of each other. Same as Sokolov and Renard.”

  Landon frowned. “Why are we just hearing about it now?”

  John sighed. “The Department of Homeland Security threat recognition software picked up on the data pattern, but no one knew what to make of it.”

  “Intel finally filtered down from Canada that Stutmeir had slipped into the States through their border. We think he’s behind the latest kidnappings.” Evan pressed a key on the computer and two more faces joined the rest on the screens. “Sarah Beacon, one of the top researchers for the Human Genome Project, and Mitch Dowling, a senior scientist studying genetic adaptation of pathogens for the Centers for Disease Control.”

  “Dowling is the one who finally tripped the alarm,” John said. “Every expert at the CDC is red-flagged. Something happens to them, we know about it.”

  “So a high-tech arms dealer is kidnapping DNA, genetic, and disease control experts,” Ivy said. “That kind of points to a bioweapon, right?”

  John glanced at Evan, his mouth twitching. “Told you we could skip the ramp-up and get straight to the point.” He turned back to her and Landon. “It’s your job to find Stutmeir and confirm if he’s holding the scientists prisoners and whether he’s developing a bioweapon. If you can figure out whom he’s planning on selling it to and when, that’s a plus. But be careful. If the information out of Canada is correct, Stutmeir has a sizable group of mercenaries with him.

  “Once you find Stutmeir and have ascertained the situation, it’ll be your call on how to handle it. You’ll
have access to anything you need, be it a hostage rescue situation or a complete destroy and sanitize mission.” He gave them a meaningful look. “I’m giving you a lot of leeway on this because we don’t have a clue about exactly what’s going on. No matter what else happens, you are not to allow Stutmeir to develop and put a high-grade biological weapon on the black market. You’re authorized to do anything to stop it—including killing the scientists he’s holding hostage.”

  Ivy saw Landon’s jaw flex at that, but he didn’t say anything. She didn’t like the idea of killing innocent people any more than he did, and she prayed it didn’t come to that.

  John and Evan discussed a few more key points, then left. The moment they walked out, Ivy pulled the ball of yarn out and tossed it at Landon. He caught it in one hand.

  “What? You don’t like the color?”

  Smiling, she took the top folder off the stack John left and opened it. Zarina Sokolov gazed back at Ivy, the woman’s blue eyes smiling. Ivy quickly looked away and focused on reading Sokolov’s file. She and Landon might have to kill the doctor. Getting personally attached to her would only spell trouble.

  “Man, Stutmeir is one mean bastard,” Landon muttered. “Have you found anything to suggest he’s part of a larger syndicate?”

  “He surrounds himself with a lot of muscle, but I haven’t seen anything to indicate he’s working with anyone. Check this out, though.”

  Landon came around the table to read over her shoulder, and suddenly, Stutmeir’s known associates didn’t seem so interesting anymore. She found herself taking several deep breaths to get more of his scent into her lungs. Which completely distracted her. He drove her crazy.

  “Looks like a lot of ex-KGB and former Warsaw Pact Special Forces types.”

  “A couple sound downright nasty.” She tilted her head to gaze up at him. Bad idea. She clenched her hands into fists to resist the urge to run her fingers over the trace of stubble on his jaw. “Any thoughts on what our first move should be?”

  “Beacon and Dowling are the most recent abductees, so I say we start there.”

  They grabbed the folders and left the conference room so they could talk to Kendra about plane tickets and badges. As they rounded a corner, she saw Clayne coming down the hall toward them, scowling.

  Another fight was all they needed.

  Landon looked more than ready to oblige him, too. He stepped half in front of Ivy, his body tense.

  Clayne held up his hands. “I’m just here to talk to Ivy.”

  Landon shifted just enough to see her face without turning his back on Clayne. When she nodded, he moved farther down the hall. That didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on them.

  She glared up at Clayne. “What do you want? We’re kind of busy, so make it fast.”

  Clayne hesitated, his eyes going to Landon. Her partner was standing there, arms folded across his chest, watching them.

  “He can’t hear us, Clayne. He’s not a shifter, remember?”

  Clayne looked at her sharply. “I remember. That’s why I’m here. To tell you what you already know—that you’re making a mistake getting close to him.”

  She tightened her grip on the folders, clutching them to her chest. “I’m not getting close to him.”

  Liar.

  “Try that again, only this time with more feeling. Maybe I’ll believe it.”

  She flushed. “I don’t care if you believe it or not. Look, you’ve already said everything you have to say—more than once. That crap you pulled at the pugil pit the other day spoke loud and clear. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

  Clayne lifted his hands like he wanted to take her by the shoulders, but whether it was to shake her or pull her into his arms, she’d never know because he ran his fingers through his long hair instead. When he lowered them to his side, his face was a mask of calm.

  “I just want you to know one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Clayne moved closer, his eyes a swirl of gold and brown, as if he was on the verge of shifting. “That when things go to crap with Donovan—and they will—I’ll be there for you. All you have to do is call me and I’ll be there. Wherever there is.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong about Landon, but he’d already turned and walked away.

  Landon came over. “What was that about?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Chapter 10

  They went to Mitch Dowling’s place first, but it was a bust. Other than learning from his brother that Dowling worked on how pathogens adapt to their environment so the CDC could understand why some people reject vaccines, they found nothing.

  They went to see Sarah Beacon’s husband next. The man was too distraught to be much help, but he did mention Sarah’s work on gene therapy required a very specific type of computer—a very large, expensive one you couldn’t get at the local Best Buy.

  While Landon found them someplace to have dinner, Ivy called the DCO and told John what they’d learned, then asked him to see if anyone recently had purchased a computer like the one Sarah Beacon used. John got back to them before the waitress even brought their food.

  “A man by the name of Arnold Doyle ordered a similar computer a month ago, paid up front for it, and had it delivered to a warehouse outside of Atlanta. I’m sure it’s an alias, but I’ve got someone trying to track him down anyway. In the meantime, I’m sending the address of the warehouse to your phone. I don’t want you two taking chances, though,” John warned. “Check the place out and if it looks suspicious, call for backup.”

  It was dark by the time he and Ivy got there, but Landon saw enough of the sign illuminated by the lone streetlamp to know the abandoned warehouse had once been a distribution center for an organic food supermarket chain. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, but they scouted the perimeter just to be sure.

  “No one’s been here for a while.” Ivy’s voice was soft in the darkness as they entered the building. “Three weeks, maybe a month.”

  The first room they came to looked like whoever had been there used it as a break room, but the food wrappers and empty pizza boxes could just as easily be from vagrants as from Stutmeir and his men.

  Ivy sniffed the air, her nose wrinkling.

  “What is it?”

  Her mouth tightened. “Blood.”

  “Fresh?”

  She shook her head as she led the way down the hallway into the main part of the warehouse.

  As they drew nearer, even Landon picked up the smell. It was metallic and pungent. To Ivy’s heightened senses, it must be a hundred times more potent.

  Landon wasn’t sure what he expected to find, and he was surprised when he stepped into a makeshift medical clinic. On top of the bright lights and ghastly wall color, there was surgical tape and bloody gauze. Used needles and empty IV bags, too.

  “What the hell is this place?” Ivy breathed.

  “I don’t know. But this stuff doesn’t exactly look like standard-issue equipment for making a bioweapon.” He looked around. “Let’s check out the rest of the building.”

  There were several rooms in the back that looked like they might have been offices at one time. Two of the doors had padlocks on the outside. Landon cautiously pushed open one of them. It was empty except for a pile of blankets on the floor.

  Landon glanced at Ivy. “Prison cells for the scientists, you think?”

  “Maybe.” She walked in and sniffed the air, then the blankets. “Mitch Dowling and Sarah Beacon were definitely here.”

  Landon opened the door to the other room and immediately reeled back at the foul stench that hit his nose. Didn’t need a super sense like Ivy’s to pick up that odor. Or to know that it came from something dead.

  Beside him, Ivy made a face. “It’s coming from there.”

  There was
a walk-in freezer big enough to hold a dozen dead bodies. And judging from the way it reeked, the unit clearly wasn’t turned on.

  “Rock, paper, scissors?” Ivy just gave him a look. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

  He tightened his grip on his Glock and opened the freezer door.

  There were at least fifteen bodies strewn across the floor, wrapped in plastic and twisted up in what looked like a seriously painful death. Except for one—a well-dressed man in his mid-fifties with a bullet hole through his forehead.

  “Mitch Dowling,” he said to Ivy.

  She scanned the other bodies, a worried frown knitting her brow. “It’s probably a little late to ask, but do you think they’re contagious?”

  Damn, he hadn’t even thought of that. “I don’t think so. The bodies are all in different stages of decomposition. That means they were dumped in here one or two at a time over a period of a week or so. Plus, there’s blood outside the freezer. That’s not the way someone who’s worried about getting infected treats dead bodies.”

  She relaxed a little at that. “You’re right. But I’d feel better if we call it in.”

  John agreed about taking precautions and immediately had Kendra work on getting a CDC decontamination and survey team there.

  “Once you’re cleared—which I’m sure you will be—we’ll get the CDC to examine the bodies. We need to figure out what Stutmeir is up to. If he’s come up with something that can kill people so horribly without infecting others nearby, then I’m really worried. It’d be the perfect bioweapon.”

  Landon had to agree.

  While he and Ivy waited for the decontamination team to arrive, they snooped around some more. She found a trail of dried blood leading to the back door, and a whole lot more—or what was left of it at least—on the concrete outside.

  Ivy kneeled down and put her nose close enough to do a sniff test. “It’s Dowling’s.”

  “You can ID blood that old?”

  She nodded as she got to her feet. “But only because I smelled the body a few minutes ago. He must have tried to escape.” Ivy chewed on her lower lip. Something she did when she was thinking. “I wonder if his work was done, or whether he bailed before they could make him do what they wanted.”