Page 22 of Ice Cold Liar (Ice Breaker Cold Case #14)

“I want you to stay in the car with Henry when we get there. I’ll go in and grill Ivan.

” It was still late afternoon/early evening.

The full crew of wannabe thugs shouldn’t be at the place yet.

Actually, maybe no one would be there, and if that was the case, then Eb might do a wee bit of breaking and entering so he could search Ivan’s office.

“Didn’t you try to get me to stay in the car once before at Ivan’s place?” Naomi batted her lashes. “How did that work?”

Horribly. Hell. “If you’re not waiting in the car, then you stay with me, every moment, got it?” Yeah, he wasn’t really fighting on the stay-in-the-car bit because he would feel better if he had his eyes or his hands on her at every moment.

The better to protect her, of course.

Not because he just liked having her close.

Keep lying to yourself.

“Every moment,” she agreed.

He sucked in a breath and got them back on the road. Soon they were pulling into the lot of Ivan’s bar. An empty lot. No long line of motorcycles. No music playing.

Nothing but silence waiting for them.

“I have his home address,” she told Eb when he killed the engine.

“Of course, you do.” Why wouldn’t she have a gang leader’s home address? This was Naomi, after all.

“You don’t have to be all judgy about it. I was getting Henry back.” She reached into the rear seat and gave the golden a soft rub on his head. “Either Henry was stashed here, or he was at Ivan’s home. I started here at the bar and got lucky when I found you.”

She thought she’d been lucky? Oh, so wrong. “I’m searching the bar.” While the place was deserted, he’d have the perfect chance to nose around.

“Ohmygosh, yes. Let’s do it.”

Why was he not surprised that she immediately agreed to a B&E?

“I can show you how I got in last night,” Naomi offered. “Easy as pie.”

“Maybe don’t confess to B&Es so quickly. Just for future reference.”

“But my confession is just going to make it easier for you. Come on.” Just like that, she was out of the car, with her dog padding obediently at her side.

Given no choice in the matter, Eb followed.

Because, sure, why not commit a little felony with a dog in tow?

That was his life now, apparently. No more secret spy biz.

Just teaming up with a suspected murderess to break into a Russian gang leader’s club.

With a grinning Golden Retriever. As you do.

Naomi looked back at him. The sun hit her hair, igniting the highlights hidden in the depths. She smiled. Smiled before committing their B&E.

He caught her arm. “Me first.”

Her gaze trapped him.

Dammit. He had to get his shit together. So she’d been an amazing fuck. Focus. He huffed out a breath. “I go in first. I’m the one with the gun.”

That incredible gaze of hers widened. “You have a gun? Since when?”

“Since five seconds after you jumped out of the car and I took it from the glove box.” She hadn’t bothered to look back. “Now, behind me. You and Henry.”

Henry moved behind him. Gazed soulfully and expectantly at Naomi.

She shuffled behind Eb, too.

Good. They all crept to the back of the bar.

“I came in that door,” Naomi told him as she poked at his spine. “I can pick the lock for you, if you want.”

He glanced back at her, offended.

“What? I’m trying to help. ” Her voice was a bare whisper.

“I can pick a lock myself.” Did she think he had zero skills? Insulting. He advanced, then immediately stopped.

She bumped into him. “Eb?”

No lock picking was going to be required. He was close enough now that he could see the back door hung slightly ajar. Tension immediately gathered between his shoulders. He gripped the gun in his left hand and slowly pulled the door fully open.

More silence. But…

Henry started to whine.

Immediately, Eb’s head whipped back toward the dog and toward Naomi, wanting to make sure that she was all right.

But Henry’s gaze wasn’t fixed on Naomi. Instead, the Golden Retriever stared hard at the open door. His body had completely tensed.

“This isn’t good,” Naomi whispered.

No, it wasn’t. “Sure I can’t get you and the dog to head back to the car?”

“No,” Naomi said, voice barely above a breath. “You and I are a team. Teams stick together.”

Henry advanced. Bumped against Eb’s leg.

“All three of us are a team,” Naomi corrected.

Hell. He gave the dog a quick pat. “I’m going in first, buddy.” And he did. With his gun up. With his body way too tense with adrenaline as he hunted for danger. The place felt as still and quiet as a tomb around him. A far cry from the way the bar had been the first time he’d visited.

He took a few steps inside. This door had led straight into Ivan’s back office?—

Sonofabitch.

Henry whined behind him.

“Eb?” Naomi’s soft voice. “What’s happening— Oh, my God! ”

Yeah. He slanted a fast glance over his shoulder at her. “Do not touch anything.”

Her horrified gaze wasn’t on him. Her gaze was on the body sprawled over the floor. Ivan’s big body. His blood-soaked body. Blood on him. Blood beneath him. The Russian’s body had been beaten to hell and back.

“Eb.” She grabbed his arm, hard. “Eb, I think that’s my bat.”

He’d already seen it. Already thought the same damn thing. Hard to mistake the bat, after all, seeing as how it had her initials on it. Blood-stained initials.

He hadn’t noticed the initials the first night. It had been too dark. But now, in the office that reeked of blood and violence, light drifted through the window, and he saw the very distinct, white, cursive NR on the barrel of the bat. The white letters were splotched with red. Wet blood.

Naomi scampered forward and bent near the body.

“What in the hell! Naomi! ” He grabbed her shoulders to pull her back. “What part of ‘ do not touch anything’ confused you?”

“I’m trying to make sure he’s actually dead! He, um, kinda feels warmish.”

“His brains are on the floor.”

“OhGod.” Her fluttering fingers had almost touched said brain matter.

“And I know dead bodies.” He’d seen more than his share. “Ivan is gone.”

Her fingers still went to Ivan’s throat. After a moment, she swallowed and darted back. Her foot kicked the edge of the bat. The blood-stained bat had been used to beat the Russian to death, in his own office.

“We need to get out of here, now,” Eb ordered. There would be no searching the scene. There would only be getting the hell out of there and trying to figure out who had used Naomi’s bat to beat the gang leader to death.

The last time Eb had seen that bat, he’d thrown it into the back of her truck.

Fantastic. My prints are going to be on the murder weapon and so are hers.

Sonofabitch.

“My initials are on the bat because…” Naomi’s halting voice. “I…I played high school ball. Was MVP. They called me the home-run queen.”

She had a killer swing. Double sonofabitch. “Back out. Now. ”

They backed out. They didn’t touch anything else.

Henry was tense and alert, and so the hell was Eb.

They went straight for the back door, with him being the last to exit Ivan’s office.

He covered Naomi’s six, looking for threats and evidence.

The bar was so quiet. So still. His instincts told him that the killer wasn’t inside.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t still close by.

Before he could call out a warning to Naomi, she darted through the open rear door of the bar. Dammit! What if the killer was waiting? Alarm surged through him. “Naomi!” He bounded right on her trail.

And Eb saw that, this time, she’d been the one to come to a sudden, dead stop. Naomi had gone statue-still a few feet from the bar’s back door. Her hands were in the air. Her dog protectively crouched right in front of her.

“ Freeze!” At that loud bellow, he understood exactly why Naomi had frozen.

A swarm of armed men and women seemed to explode around Eb and Naomi. Their guns were held tightly in their hands. Their gazes were sharp. Assessing.

The woman leading the group had been the one to blast the loud order to freeze. A woman with short, black hair. Bright green eyes. A slightly pointed chin. And an expression that said if you tested her, she would bring hell your way.

Her green gaze darted over Naomi and locked onto Eb. That green gaze sharpened. Hardened.

“Eb Jones,” she barked. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

He still had his gun. He should lower it. Especially considering that he was surrounded.

The woman took an aggressive step forward. She also motioned for some of the armed group members to enter the bar. Two men—both in plain clothes but who moved with a lethal grace that told Eb they had black ops experience—immediately dashed inside the bar.

Eb cleared his throat. How to play this scene?

Hmm. He’d try friendly first. Why not? “Hi, Madeline.” He flashed a smile and knew that his dimple would wink.

The dimple could occasionally be disarming.

Though, based on extensive experience, he knew it was very hard to disarm Madeline.

“As always, it’s a pleasure to see you.” It actually was not.

Quite the opposite. “FYI, the men you just sent in? I feel I need to warn you that they’re going to find a dead body inside the bar. ”

Naomi glanced back at him in surprise. “You’re just going to flat out tell her that detail? Announce it as calm-as-you-please?”

Madeline Desalt shook her head. She also holstered her weapon. “He’d damn well better tell me what’s happening. Kinda part of the package. After all, he’s working for me.”

Naomi flinched.

Eb didn’t correct Madeline’s words. Even though he was not, in fact, still working for Madeline at the CIA. He was too busy trying to figure out why a ground team was swarming a rundown bar in Baton Rouge. Not exactly typical spook behavior.

Madeline’s hands went to her hips. “I’m Eb’s boss,” she added, in case Naomi just couldn’t connect the dots. “And you two are in a world of trouble.”