Crossing the Line

by Cynthia Eden

  “I’m going to be ass naked when the agents come in, and I hope they are all stupid, stupid hot!”

  He looked back at her. Smiled. “God, I love you.”

  Her stomach was in knots. “Then don’t do this.”

  “That’s exactly why I have to do it. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the perps distracted until you come in with the team.”

  Then he was gone. He’d opened the bathroom door and walked away. Left her. No. No! She yanked hard at the handcuffs, but they wouldn’t give. The metal bit into her skin as she twisted and heaved. The handle on the shower door was freaking screwed in tight, and she couldn’t get it to break free. She lifted a foot and kicked the handle.

  No luck.

  She kicked harder. Harder.

  ***

  In one hour, I want you to enter Blair’s home. She’ll be waiting for you with new mission orders. Linc calmly sent the text to the agent in charge outside. And, unfortunately, that agent was a damn good-looking bastard named Chase Durant. A bastard who would probably get to see Blair naked.

  His nostrils flared as Linc added…Until then, maintain your post. I’ll be leaving soon. No one else gets in this place until you enter in an hour, understand? The last thing he wanted was for any perp to sneak in while Blair was…indisposed.

  Chase responded immediately. Message received.

  Link yanked on his shirt. Flipped up the collar. Hid the tracker in the button there. He tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and glanced around Blair’s place. He could still hear the thunder of the shower.

  He strode for the main door. Paused only long enough to send a quick text to Eric.

  Taking B’s extra tracker. Get the GPS going. Make sure you can follow every move I make.

  He pulled in a deep breath and opened the door. Time to get the show rolling. If he was right about all of this, the bad guys shouldn’t take long to seize the bait.

  And I’m that bait.

  ***

  Blair’s breath panted in and out. When she got out of this mess, she was absolutely going to make Linc pay. To leave her naked and cuffed—hell, yes, that was bad enough but for him to actually say…

  I know you don’t love me.

  She would make him pay. How could he say that?

  Her heel slammed into the door handle.

  How could he toss that at her as he left?

  And how could he so easily act like risking his life for her was no big deal? It was a big deal. It was a huge freaking deal to her.

  She kicked the handle again. Blair slipped on the slick shower floor, and she almost landed on her ass. This was not working.

  She wanted to scream. Wanted to rage. Instead…

  She shoved open the shower door and crept out. Stretched as far as she could, dripping on the floor as she looked for something that she could use.

  Brute force wasn’t working.

  She needed a plan B.

  Her gaze fell on the pair of tweezers that she could see in her makeup bag. She judged the distance between the shower and the bag and then she started stretching to reach for that bag.

  If she could get the tweezers, maybe she could pick the lock on the handcuffs. Maybe…

  ***

  The parking garage of his building. Yep, Linc figured it was the perfect place. Linc whipped up into his parking garage, went for the darkest, deepest corner, and killed his vehicle’s engine. If he was going to jump someone, he would totally do it in the parking garage.

  He hopped out of his car. Slammed the door. Had to bite his lip to keep from calling out…Come and get me.

  Linc took his time strolling toward the elevator. The place seemed too quiet. Tense.

  He scanned the area around him, and he saw the shadow moving behind the thick, concrete column to the right.

  Linc almost smiled. Way to take the bait. His hand slipped behind his back. Slowly, he pulled out his gun. After all, he couldn’t make this look too easy. Didn’t want to make the bad guys suspicious.

  The shadow lunged for him.

  “Freeze!” Linc yelled. “I will shoot your ass if you don’t—”

  Another shadow surged forward—right before every light in the parking garage turned off. Momentarily blinded because there was no outside illumination trickling into the garage, Linc heard the thunder of footsteps running toward him. One to the left, one to the right.

  He surged back, squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. If he didn’t have a shot, then neither did the bastards coming at him.

  Someone grabbed his shoulder. Linc spun around and rammed the butt of his gun at the attacker. He heard an oof before the attacker let him go.

  Take that, asshole.

  Something jabbed in Linc’s side. Not a knife. Just…like a pinprick.

  No, not a pinprick. More like a fucking needle. Hell.

  Linc grabbed his side and wrenched up a syringe.

  Someone lunged at him, and Linc fired his gun. He was still firing, right up until the moment when he slammed face-first into the pavement.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “How much do they know?”

  Linc let out a low groan as he cracked open his eyes. “Where the…hell am I?” He tried to jerk up with his hands but—

  They were tied down to the arms of a chair. Huh. How about that? He looked down and saw that his legs were tied to the chair, too. He swallowed. “Someone has been busy.” His head rolled back. He locked eyes on the man standing across from him. A guy in a fancy, smelled-like-too-much-money suit. A guy with a shock of white hair and a loose middle that was a little too paunchy. Linc smiled at him. “I know you. Saw your picture before. It was in a file that my boss gave me back at Wilde. You’re Matthew Vorten. Hey, man, sorry about your wife. I heard she died on Turquoise Island.” He swallowed again. Damn. His throat was dry as dust. “But you know what? I also heard you have a side lady who’s been keeping you company so maybe you’re not grieving too hard.”

  Matthew glared at him. Then he jerked his head. “Hit him.”

  Oh, wait, what?

  A big fist plowed into Linc’s jaw. He felt his lower lip split open, and he tasted blood. Nice.

  “Answer my question, asshole,” Matthew snarled. “Or I will have my guard beat the shit out of you.”

  Linc focused on the guard. A big bruiser of a fellow. Shaved head. Bulging arms. “That was kind of…weak, for a punch, don’t you think? Guessing you weren’t a boxer.”

  The guard snarled and shot toward—

  Matthew put a hand on his chest. “Wait, Ron.”

  “Yeah, Ron.” Linc spat out blood. “Wait.”

  Matthew leaned toward Linc. “How much do your Wilde friends know?”

  “Oh.” Linc blinked. “Is that what you asked? Well, everything.”

  Matthew seemed to pale.

  “They know that you were screwing Natasha Frank. They know that you were working with her and that you arranged for the murder of your wife, Helen. They know that you’re a crooked killer who needs to have his ass thrown in jail.” His gaze swept toward Ron once more. He caught sight of the big-ass knife strapped to the man’s belt. “And they also know that your guard over there is the one who slit Carthright’s throat.” They actually didn’t know that, but it seemed reasonable. “Sloppy work, by the way, Ron. You left evidence everywhere.”

  Matthew whirled on Ron. “I told you to fucking clean up that scene!”

  Linc laughed—and spat a little more blood. “Okay, that last part was purely a guess, but damn, it was a good guess, am I right, fellows?”

  “Hit him again,” Matthew snapped.

  Ron’s fist plowed into Linc’s face once more.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “Do you have to go after my money maker?”

  Matthew grabbed Linc’s face. “Listen, asshole, do you think this is a joke?”

  “Everyone is always asking me crap like that. Is this a game? Is this a joke?” Linc mumbled. But, no, he didn’t think this situation was e
ither one of those things. He thought it was a brilliantly executed trap.

  “You’re all alone here.” Matthew seemed to take pleasure in telling him that bit of news. “You don’t have any weapons. You don’t have any friends. When Natasha arrives, she’s going to torture you for hours. Hours. By the time she’s done, you’ll be begging for death.”

  “But I’m not really the begging type.”

  Matthew’s fat, pudgy fingers bit deeper into his face. “Just wait. You will be. My Natasha is a professional. Bet you didn’t know that. Because she had a fool-proof, fake background in place. A background that cost blood and money to make.”

  “Well, that explains the bad intel I was given on her. Started to think that Wilde had just gotten extra sloppy.”

  “We used Wilde from the beginning. Carthright did exactly what we wanted.”

  “Why is he dead then? Wait, wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess. He was a loose end? Was it Natasha’s idea to get rid of him? To send good old Ron in with a knife?”

  The tightening of Matthew’s jaw was his answer. Huh. How about that? Natasha wasn’t some follower in this mess. She was pulling strings left and right.

  “She’s worked over men far tougher than you.” Matthew let Linc go. Stepped back.

  “A professional, huh?” Linc asked. “Good to know.” He hissed out a breath. “I have a killer headache right now. What did you dose me with?”

  “A parting gift, courtesy of Georgia Dushane.” Matthew smirked. “She always did give us the good stuff.”

  Linc tested the ropes. Tight enough to cut off his circulation. He bet that was Ron’s doing. “Parting gift, you say? Poor Georgia. She thought she was one of the gang. She didn’t realize Natasha was going to blow her to hell.” He hissed out a breath. “See, that’s something I don’t get. The whole bombing thing. I mean, were you trying to kill Blair with the bomb? Because I thought—”

  “Blair wasn’t supposed to die then. We were just getting rid of Georgia.”

  “Sure, because, why split the money with her?”

  “Why indeed?” Matthew puffed out his chest. “I was on the boat while Blair was unconscious. She was below deck. I kept Georgia busy talking, and Ron planted the bomb. Then he and I went back to our own vessel. This was all part of Natasha’s plan from the beginning. Natasha had told us that Blair would break free. She was absolutely confident in Blair’s skills.”

  “My lady does have skills,” Linc allowed. “Still seems risky, though. What if she hadn’t survived?”

  “What the fuck did I care about risk? If Blair died with Georgia, then we’d move on to a new target.”

  You just told me you didn’t fucking care if Blair died. Major mistake. “I care plenty,” Linc rumbled.

  “Good for you. But your girl did just as Natasha predicted. I mean, it was like Natasha was psychic.” He was obviously impressed. “Watched through my binoculars. Saw Blair come barreling up on deck. She went for the ignition, and she realized what was happening immediately. The bomb went off, and she hit the water.”

  “Boom,” Ron supplied.

  Linc cut him a glare. “Is that really what you want to offer in this conversation?”

  Ron looked down. Linc focused on Matthew once more.

  “Natasha created the bomb. We just put it on board and waited for action. Then Natasha helped to guide you out to the wreckage exactly like she promised she’d do. I got the hell out of there and went to Key West. Natasha told me all about how broken up and lost you were when you thought Blair was dead. That was what Natasha needed to see. You had given your heart to that bitch Blair, and we were ready for the next step.”

  Anger broke through the mask Linc had been wearing, and he growled, “Don’t call her a bitch.” You will pay for that. Linc jerked in the chair. “Thanks for the confession. It was very lengthy and detailed. Now you’re under arrest.”

  “You’re not a cop. At least, not anymore. I looked into your background. Big, bad homicide detective.” He wagged his index finger at Linc. “Should’ve stuck with busting wannabes on the Atlanta streets. You are playing far out of your league now.”

  I am going to break that finger. “I always like to aim high.” Linc glanced around the room. Saw another guard-slash-goon standing near the doorway. “What is this place? Some kind of warehouse?” That was what it looked like with the high, sweeping ceiling and giant crates stacked against the walls.

  “You can just call it your grave. You won’t be getting out alive.”

  “Sure, I will.” Linc nodded. “I’ll get out of this chair. I’ll kick Ron’s ass. Sorry, Ron, but you deserve it for punching me and for setting that bomb on the boat. Then I think…” Linc considered his options. “I think I might kill you, Matthew. Maybe after I break that fat, wagging finger of yours. I really don’t like it when people wag their fingers in my face.”

  Now Matthew heaved with laughter.

  Laugh it up, dumbass. “You ordered Ron to plant that bomb in order to blow up my Blair. Incredibly bad move. Super pissed me off. And, as you just pointed out, I’m not a cop. Since I’m not a cop, I can’t really arrest you.” A nod. “So I figure I’ll just kill you.”

  Matthew grabbed a weapon—Linc’s gun, he recognized his own weapon—from a nearby table. “You don’t even have a gun, asshole.” He pointed the gun at Linc. “You acting so big and bad. You’re—”

  “I’m acting this way because I know things that you don’t.”

  Matthew squinted at him. “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that this building is surrounded.”

  Matthew stiffened. “Bullshit.”

  “No. Why do you think I’ve been talking this whole time? Because I like the sound of my own deep, rumbling voice?” Linc shook his head. “No, I had to give my team a chance to close in.”

  Ron backed up a step.

  The guard near the door got a little twitchy.

  “My team is closing in. They’re going to get me out of this chair. Then I’m going to kill you.” Linc smiled at Matthew. “Good plan, huh?”

  Matthew rammed the gun’s muzzle against Linc’s forehead. “Bad fucking plan.”

  “I used all the bullets in the garage,” Linc informed Matthew with a fuck-you smile even as the gun shoved harder against his skull. “That was deliberate. Couldn’t have you using my own weapon against me. Bet you didn’t even think to check that, did you?”

  “What?” Matthew heaved the weapon back. Frowned at it. Tossed it onto the floor.

  Linc glared at him. “Tell me why. Tell me why and maybe I’ll let you live. Why the hell did you go along with Natasha? Why the hell did you go to all of this trouble? Why did you—”

  “Money, you fool! Money is always the reason.” But Matthew glanced at the guard near the door. “I want you to get out there and make sure he’s lying. And while you’re there, check for Natasha. I don’t get why she hasn’t arrived yet. She was on my jet. She should have landed at least an hour ago.”

  The guard nodded and strode out. Ron lingered in the room. Obviously, Ron was waiting for his promised ass kicking.

  Linc licked some blood off his lower lip. “I thought you were already loaded, Mr. Big Bucks.”

  “No, turns out, a few bad investments can really screw a guy over.” Matthew sniffed. “But then Natasha was steered toward me. Beautiful Natasha. Carthright introduced us. Isn’t that hilarious? She was with him first, but then she decided to upgrade to me.”

  Or she just realized you were a bigger dumbass and easier to manipulate, but whatever.

  “Gotta love that prick Carthright. He always had an eye for the ladies.”

  Keep talking, jerk. Dig that grave deeper.

  “My dearly departed wife Helen—she was the one with the fresh crop of cash. She didn’t sign a prenup with me because she believed—as so many others did—that I was still filthy freaking rich. So we said our ‘I do’ bit, and then…”

  “Then you needed to get rid of her,” Linc concluded
grimly.

  “Natasha helped with that part. And since the routine worked so well, Natasha suggested we try it again. Did it on that dick Patrick and his wife. Patrick was such an arrogant ass. Always thinking he was better than me.”

  Probably due to the fact that he is better than you. He didn’t plan the murder of his wife.

  “Natasha took his wife. Scared the shit out of him, and we took his money. Double win.” Matthew motioned toward Ron. “I’m getting bored. Why don’t you take out your knife and entertain us?”

  Ron pulled out his knife.

  “Hold on! Stand the hell back, Ron!” Linc shouted when that knife came far too close to his face. “Why do you always go after my money maker? Do you hate me?”

  Ron frowned at him.

  Linc’s gaze swung back to Matthew. “Wilde agents were called in to investigate on Turquoise Island. Was that part of the plan?” Linc demanded as he tried to keep Matthew talking and keep Ron’s knife away from his face.

  “Sure, it was,” Matthew told him because obviously, the guy liked to talk. The last ten to fifteen minutes had certainly proved that point. “It was actually Natasha who suggested going to Wilde. Said she had someone who was interested in one of his agents. She got Carthright to make the call. He fed Eric the story about what was happening and even got Blair Kincaid assigned to the case.”

  “Who was interested in Blair?”

  “Hell if I know. Didn’t really care. I thought that even if Natasha’s plan didn’t work out, Eric Wilde would still be willing to pay up in order to get one of his top agents back. Win, win, know what I mean?”

  “Hate to break it to you, but I suspect this is more of a lose, lose situation for you.”

  “No, that’s what it is for you.” Matthew glared at Ron. “Why are you just holding the knife? Slice this bastard!”

  ***

  “We’re moving in,” Blair ordered. “Right the hell now.”

  “But we have no idea what’s happening in there. Linc could be working an angle. He could still be gathering intel!” Chase Durant argued.

  Blair turned her head and just looked at him.

  “And we are moving in, yes, ma’am.” Chase had changed his tune instantly.