A noise jerked her attention toward the hallway. The bathroom door opened and closed. Footsteps trod lightly toward her door. Kellie’s gaze darted around the room and landed on MacGyver’s handgun on the table by the window.How careless of him.She flew off the bed, grabbed the gun and released the safety, drawing a bead on the door just as MacGyver pushed it open and stepped into the room.
* * * *
MacGyver froze.What the hell?Slowly, he swung the door closed and heard it latch behind him. Not only was Kellie pointing his own gun at him like she knew what she was doing, but her chest was heaving with the effort. Something had definitely gotten her riled while he’d been gone for less than five minutes.
“Kellie? Did you talk to your stepdad?”
She shook her head. “Butyougot a text fromThe Congressman.”
“Okay.” MacGyver searched until he spotted the phone lying on the bed. “May I read it so I’ll at least know what we’re talking about?”
“Go ahead.” She motioned toward the bed with the barrel of the gun. “Then tell me again how you’re not working for Tony.”
What did the congressman have to do with Palazzi?MacGyver raised his hands, palms out, and moved to the bed. Picking up the device, he tapped the screen until the original text appeared and followed the thread to the end.
Shit!He read it again.No wonder she was freaking out.The congressman had thrown him under the bus with his cryptic message, and still he gave no explanation as to what was going on. How was he going to explain this whenhedidn’t understand?
MacGyver shook his head as he looked at Kellie. “It’s not what you think.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “What is it then?”
“Remember when I told the cop I was in town on business?”
Kellie nodded but didn’t relax even a little.
“Congressman Norwell hired my company to find a missing person—a man by the name of Jeremy Dahl. Do either of those names mean anything to you?”
“No. Should they?”
MacGyver moved to the end of the bed and sat, crossing one ankle over the other. “I thought you might know the congressman. I was in that bar waiting for information on Dahl when the first text came in. The congressman didn’t say why he wanted me to meet and keep track of you, but I figured it must have something to do with the case. You’ve never met Congressman Norwell…from California?”
“Do you seriously expect me to believe that text wasn’t from Tony?”
“It’s the truth, Kellie. Ask Travis. He’ll tell you the exact same thing.”
“What would that prove? That you’re both working for Tony?”
MacGyver heaved an exasperated sigh. “If I were working for Palazzi, why would I have kept him from grabbing you at the hotel this morning? He could have had you without any help from me.”
For an instant, puzzlement covered her expressive features. He’d created at least a little bit of doubt.
“Put the gun down, Kellie. Let’s talk about this. You know I’ve got your back.”
Clearly, she was tempted, but then her jaw firmed and she shook her head. “No. I don’t know what to believe, but I can’t stay here.” She sidled toward her bag near the edge of the bed. “I’m going to walk out of here and you’re not going to move.”
MacGyver raked a hand through his hair. Damn it. He couldn’t let her leave. It was still too dangerous. By stopping her, he would destroy the thin layer of doubt that made her hesitate. He had no choice.
Kellie leaned over to grasp her bag and the hand holding the gun lowered slightly. MacGyver sprang toward her. She straightened and brought the weapon up again, but he was too close for her to maneuver. With an outward thrust of his arm against hers, he shoved her hand to the side. Green eyes widened, and fear flared her nostrils. She desperately tried to maintain distance between them, but he continued to close in, plucking the gun from her fingers and tossing it toward the bed.
She got in a solid punch to his gut, but it probably hurt her hand worse than it did him. While she was momentarily sidetracked by the pain, he spun her around and clamped his arms around her torso, imprisoning her arms at her sides.
“Let me go!”She growled the words, punctuating them with a stomp of her foot that came within an inch of his toes.
MacGyver held her tighter, refusing to give her room to launch an attack on his person. Still, she struggled, swearing a blue streak that rivaled any man’s vocabulary of four-letter words. He grinned and let her wear herself out. She was a fighter, for damn sure, but she didn’t have the upper body strength to break his hold. Even so, it was a full two minutes before she admitted defeat and stopped fighting him.
“Are you finished?” With any luck, she was, because her body squirming against his and the scent of honeysuckle in her hair was awakening a need within him other than self-preservation.
“Go to hell!”