Chapter Twenty - nine

Agent Mission Log Entry:

The bracelet the assassin left behind on that rooftop has an Ident-a-spot on the underside. Obviously, my thumb print isn’t the one required to make it work, so I can only assume that the logo on the top means it’s part of the time device.

My gut says this is his way home. It could be mine instead.


“It looks like a man’s ID bracelet,” Jon commented from behind her left shoulder. He was leaning over to get a better look at the piece of jewelry in question. His breath ruffled the little wisps of her hair that had come loose from the bun she’d pinned it up in for the party. The musk of his cologne wrapped around her filling her mind with images of their lovemaking.

From his spot over her right shoulder, Richie put his two cents in, pulling her back to reality. “I gave one just like that to my first girlfriend.”

Trying to ignore the distraction of Jon’s close proximity, Gabby responded to Richie’s comment. “Not like this one.” She turned it over and pointed to the black rectangular screen. “See this? It’s an Ident-a-spot. It’s programmed to a specific thumb print; that’s what will activate it.”

“What does it do?” Jon asked, the discomfort of his chest momentarily forgotten.

She had been trying to determine that very thing for the past half hour. She’d been sitting at Jon’s desk while she examined the bracelet and gave brief, terse answers to their unending and expected questions. They’d asked what it was, where she’d found it, and what she intended to do with it.

The only one she couldn’t answer with absolute certainty was that last one. She could only guess at what it did. “I think it was supposed to be his way home, to our time.”

At those words, Jon took a deep breath and stood up, his mind racing. She had a possible way home? She could leave? That put a whole new spin on things. It also made him think about this unknown killer. What exactly did Gabby intend to do with him? But, most important, “You could go back to your time?”

Richie’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, fuck. That’s my cue to leave.” He wasted no time heading for the door. He recognized the tone in Jon’s voice and there was about to be a scene that he was sure neither Jon nor Gabriella would want him to witness.

Richie heard her answer just as he was pulling the door closed behind him. “If I can figure out how to make it work, yes.”

“You’d leave me?” Jon asked. Damn. Where had that needy question come from? “Disregard that,” he told her quickly, straightening to walk to the other side of the room.

“I do have a life back there, ya know?” she replied softly.

“A life where in your own words, ‘No one will miss you’,” he reminded her. “Isn’t that what you said?” Wait. He really didn’t want to have this discussion right now.

“I’m not going to discuss this right now.” Her chin lifted sharply in defiance, as she stood up from the desk to turn to face him.

“You’re right.” He refused to take a step back and appear to be retreating.

She did a double take. What? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He wasn’t going to give her any more ground. That admission was all she was getting.

“Yeah, I heard you,” she nodded in agreement. “But honest to God, I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

He grinned down at her. “You are such a smart ass.”

She grinned right back. “Well get off the field of the Superdome there, Jon. ‘Cause you ain’t no Saint.”

A sharp bark of laughter filled the room, and then he flashed her his best boyish grin. “I could get used to having you around.”

“Bite your tongue.” She looked around the room. “Where’d Richie go?”

“He left to avoid the scene he knew was coming,” Jon answered her with certainty. He knew the guitarist as well as he knew himself. Deciding to take advantage of their alone time, he leaned in closer to her. His right hand moved to her cheek, to lightly stroke the satiny skin there.

Gabriella’s eyes drifted closed. There was no reason to further entangle the two of them, but her body couldn’t resist the pull of his. Irresistibly, she leaned into his hard body, lifting her lips to his.

A grin tugged at the corners of Jon’s full lips when her eyes drifted closed. He had her now. He dipped his head to sip from her lips, slipping his tongue inside for a better taste. His left hand snaked around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. A groan rumbled in his throat when her hands sifted through his hair, tangling in the curls at his nape. He was lost in her.

Who had who?

He lifted his head to look down into passion-clouded green eyes. “Come to bed with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she answered huskily, nipping gently at his chin.

Jon wasted no time. He wasn’t going to give her time to change her mind. Bending quickly, he scooped her up in his arms, and with a purposeful stride, headed for his room. He didn’t have to watch where he was going; he’d made this trip a million times before. He spent his time wisely, nibbling on her ear and placing hot kisses down the graceful column of her neck.

From his own bedroom, Richie heard a soft feminine giggle out in the hall, then seconds later the slam of Jon’s bedroom door as he kicked it closed. Grinning to himself and flopping back on his bed, Richie picked up the remote and turned on the television, then stacked his hands behind his head. The chuckle escaped then. He just couldn’t hold it in any longer.


The next morning, Gabby woke before Jon. Silently, she slipped from the bed and gathered her clothes, careful not to make a peep as she dressed. Then after a few minutes in the bathroom to take care of morning business and quickly brushing her teeth, she sneaked from the room to go make her morning perimeter check. She’d take a shower once she got back.

Jon’s penthouse occupied the whole top floor of the building. So, after giving the apartment a thorough search, checking doors and windows, she got on the elevator. Every morning, she went down to the lobby to check in with the security guard on duty. It would be one of two men, Oscar or Vincent. She smiled when the doors slid open, and she saw Oscar at the desk.

Oscar was a young man, she’d guess in his mid-twenties who had big dreams of being an FBI agent. He was working full time for the security company that provided services to the building while attending college at night, majoring in Criminal Justice. Of Hispanic decent, he was beautiful with dark hair and eyes, and he couldn’t last two seconds without flirting with Gabby.

She liked Oscar. The back story she’d given him had been just enough for an eager agent-to-be to keep him on his toes, but not enough to make someone ask too many questions if Oscar couldn’t keep things to himself. She’d shown him her ID, told him that she was on protection detail, but explained that the details of the situation were top secret. She’d hinted at ‘National Security’, and Oscar had eaten it up with a spoon, going all out to help in any way. Surprising enough, he’d also seemed to keep the few details she’d given him to himself.

After few minutes of exchanging pleasantries and glancing out the wall of glass at the front of the building, the man dressed all in black and standing across the street caught her attention. He hadn’t been standing there five seconds ago when she last looked that way. It was impossible, but he looked like Nate. It just couldn’t be!

Without finishing her sentence, she left Oscar gaping as she ran from the building. Nate was waiting for her, and jerked his head toward the alley a few feet from where he stood, indicating he’d meet her there.

Gabriella took a deep breath to settle her nerves and slowed her step, moving calmly up the street so that she could cross at the corner. What was Nate doing here? She hadn’t seen him in almost a year, not since they’d argued and she’d broke off the engagement. They’d met while cadets, began dating after graduation, and moved in together while both working on Presidential Detail. He’d been jealous of her successes and the speed at which she’d moved up through the ranks. They had argued many times before she’d finally broke off their relationship. He had left the Secret Service shortly after the break up. The last she’d heard, he was working security for a private contractor.

Why was he here?

With her hand on the butt of the gun at her hip, Gabby stepped into the opening of the alley. “Nate?” she called softly.

“Back here,” he answered, stepping forward out of the shadows.

“It’s really you,” she gasped, surprised. She hurried over to hug his neck. “Why’re you here?”

“I came to help,” he answered, as he squeezed her in a warm hug.