Colder Than Sin (Cold Justice - Crossfire: FBI Romantic Suspense Book 2)

by Toni Anderson

  Nick’s words evoked memories of them in battle together. Having each other’s backs. Saving each other’s lives. And things did get confusing in combat—the adrenaline, the fear, the bullets flying and deafening noise, but these men knew weapons better than they knew their own skin.

  “Most of the bodies were too charred to identify the caliber of the gunshot wounds, let alone find the bullets intact.” Quentin watched Nick’s expression as he recounted facts about the murders of people he’d known. “But a couple of victims were recovered where the flames didn’t quite reach. And ballistics matched the Glock I dropped on the beach—the one I took from Chris at the hotel—to bullets found in those victims during autopsy.”

  Nick glared at him. “It wasn’t Chris.”

  “We have an eyewitness. Tricia Rooks—the Raptor operative. She was unhooked from her respirator this morning.” Quentin ran a hand around the inside of his collar, which suddenly felt too tight. Because his suspicions were crazy. He had to be wrong, but nothing else fit. “She started to remember things. She says she woke up after being knocked unconscious and saw Chris going around and shooting people in the head. She was hidden by the body of another man. He missed her.”

  Nick’s eyes bounced everywhere in the room except on Quentin. “No. No. This isn’t possible.”

  “Remember at his apartment? He asked me how I ‘escaped.’ How did he know I escaped?”

  Nick snarled. “It’s a turn of phrase.”

  “Why not ask how was I rescued?” Quentin shook his head. “It wasn’t a turn of phrase. I know it wasn’t. Why were you fighting?” Nick looked startled. “The day I went to Chris’s apartment, I heard raised voices. What were you fighting about?”

  “Fuck you.” Nick paced. “So, the FBI has what? Ballistics from a gun anyone could have handled? The eyewitness account of a woman who suffered a brain injury and you overreacting to an innocent comment?” Nick turned and faced him. “That’s enough to destroy everything we’ve meant to each other? A lifetime of friendship? A brotherhood?”

  This was the worst thing Quentin had ever had to do—except bury his wife and child, and rescue Haley and Darby from rapists, and kill more men in the past week than he had in three years of war. He would not let a shared past corrupt his soul.

  “I need him to come in for an interview,” Quentin urged.

  “He’s your goddamn best friend. How can you accuse him of this bullshit?”

  “Nothing else makes sense!” Quentin roared, furious. It had taken him forever to figure it out.

  He hadn’t been targeted for death; he’d been targeted to survive. Because one of his best friends had orchestrated the whole thing. “Chris helped organize the attack and made sure I was taken alive. Why else didn’t they shoot me when they shot everyone else?”

  Nick raked two trembling hands over his short hair. “No. No. No. Who else have you told this bullshit to?”

  “Just you. I want you to help me bring him in.”

  * * *

  Haley had borrowed Alex’s Audi again and, although he was a little reluctant with the keys, she knew he didn’t really mind. The amount of power under the hood made it tempting to step on the gas, but she was also cognizant that a speeding ticket might reflect badly on Quentin, and she didn’t want that. She wanted to make Quentin proud of her.

  She rolled her eyes. God, she had it bad.

  She passed the sign to Dale City and kicked herself. She could have taken the turn to Hoadly and dropped in on the Bay-Kar compound. She planned to be the bigger person and offer a truce to Baylor and Karlovac. One of them was bound to be there with this renewed contract to honor. Two miles up the road, another turn off appeared, and she was faced with the dilemma again. She knew if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it at all.

  She took the turn and got onto Prince William Parkway, turning off into a wooded area a few miles north. She was following a black jeep and, as it pulled into the gateway of the Bay-Kar compound up ahead, she realized it was Chris Baylor’s vehicle.

  Before she could change her mind, she whipped the sports car through the gap just as the gates were closing and pulled up beside him. He had his phone to his ear. She forced a smile as she climbed out of Alex’s low-slung car.

  “Chris, I hope you don’t mind me dropping in on you unannounced, but I really want to clear the air, for Quentin’s sake. I know how much you mean to him and I—”

  She stopped talking when her former lover put the barrel of a large black weapon to her temple. Her heart jackknifed in her chest. Her mouth parched. Acid swirled in her stomach.

  “If this is a joke,” she said raggedly. “It isn’t very funny.”

  Chris grabbed her arm and pushed her in front of him. It was then she noticed Quentin’s black SUV parked beyond a big white truck. And she knew, somehow, she’d made a terrible miscalculation.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Haley’s world narrowed to the dangerous end of a 9mm as Chris reached past her to open the door and hustle them both through the entrance. Inside the large open space, Nick Karlovac and Quentin stood talking in a small kitchen area.

  Quentin took a step forward, clearly startled. “Haley? What the hell?”

  “Any closer, and I’ll blow her brains out,” Chris stated with a coldness that sent an icy rush of fear over her skin. The hard metal dug painfully against her scalp. If the gun went off, she was dead. She forced herself to breathe slowly, in and out. Counting to five each time.

  What had happened?

  What was going on?

  “That’s not funny, Chris. Put the damn gun down,” Quentin ordered.

  Chris ignored his friend, a senior FBI agent. “Sorry, buddy. No can do.”

  She stayed as still as possible, as compliant as possible, and she was back to being that powerless captive again. Someone without agency, at the mercy of other people’s violence. Quentin’s dark eyes held hers and seemed to will her to be strong. Then he looked away, back to Chris, whose grip on her arm pinched so painfully she knew it was going to leave bruises, assuming she lived that long.

  She tilted her face sideways so she could see Chris’s expression. His eyes were regretful, but his mouth was firm. She couldn’t believe she’d once been involved with this man. He seemed like a stranger.

  “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Quentin clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “She has everything to do with this. Anyway, she’s a witness now.”

  “She doesn’t know anything. Let her go.” Quentin shook his head.

  Haley didn’t have a clue what was happening, but she knew it was bad. Nick stood behind Quentin, looking anxious.

  Quentin spoke quietly, urgently. “I know you’re worried, Chris. Come in with me. I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly. Tell us what happened. I’m sure there are mitigating circumstances. A good lawyer will have you out by dinnertime, and we can laugh about this over beers.”

  Mitigating circumstances for what? Holding an ex-girlfriend at gunpoint?

  “We only want to interview you about the Glock I took from you at the hotel,” Quentin said evenly.

  “It had your fingerprints on it,” Chris pointed out.

  Quentin frowned. “Are you planning to say I shot those people in the bar—and then tried to rescue them?”

  Haley stiffened. Why would Chris shoot anyone in the bar?

  Chris shrugged. “Why not? You and Haley hatched a plot to get her company a big contract. You faked the abduction and escape. Rescued a few damsels in distress along the way, came out a goddamn hero.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but she kept quiet.

  “What’s Haley’s motive?”

  Chris shrugged like he didn’t care. “Conspiring with her new lover? Getting back at her ex? Wanting Wenck’s business and doing anything to get it from lifting her skirts to murder?”

  “Bullshit,” Haley muttered.

  Chris leaned closer to her ear. “No one else is gonna know that,
now are they?”

  Her eyes widened as she met Quentin’s dark gaze across the room. Her pulse hammered. This wasn’t some bad joke or some pissed off macho posturing. Chris Baylor was seriously thinking about killing her, and presumably Quentin, to cover up the fact he’d committed cold-blooded murder at the hotel.

  Quentin looked calm and composed. She used that. Used what she knew about the man to gather her breath and remember to count, using his poise to bolster her self-control and gain a hold of her body’s reaction to the fear that wanted to slay her.

  Chris’s eyes flicked to Nick. “Is that what he told you?”

  Nick nodded.

  “I can’t believe you went for this one.” Chris jostled her in his grip, seeming to change the subject. “I didn’t think you went for the slutty type. I thought you were all about cupcake princesses.”

  Chris’s tone was derisive. Haley watched Quentin’s expression harden. The fact he had the gall to insult them all and act superior while doing it finally seemed to break through Quentin’s control.

  He reached for his weapon.

  “Watch out!” Haley cried.

  Nick pressed the barrel of a gun to the back of Quentin’s head.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Haley begged.

  Quentin let out a long, steady breath. “You were both in on it.”

  Nick eased closer and bent to remove Quentin’s sidearm. Quentin didn’t try to fight him, and Haley’s throat closed at what that meant. They were both going to die unless Quentin could talk their way out of this.

  “We didn’t have any choice,” said Nick.

  “You have a choice now.” Quentin looked grim.

  Chris shook his head. Haley could feel the pulse in his thumb throbbing against her bicep. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “You set up the hotel attack, didn’t you? That’s why I was taken alive. And then you ordered the hit on Hurek’s people on the island. You couldn’t afford any witnesses, could you?”

  Haley gasped.

  Chris shook his head. “It wasn’t my idea. The interior minister ordered it when he discovered the foreign minister had organized a security symposium on Indonesian soil. The guy was furious. I was just the go-between for him and Hurek.”

  “Chris, shut the fuck up,” Nick said angrily.

  “Why, for god’s sake?” Quentin’s voice vibrated with suppressed rage. “At least tell me the truth. I deserve that much if you’re going to kill me.”

  “No one said anything about killing you.” Nick looked anxiously at his partner, and his expression sagged at whatever he saw on Chris’s face.

  Haley froze.

  The reality seemed to filter through the room. If these two men wanted to get away with their crimes, they were going to have to murder their best friend. Killing her would be easy in comparison.

  The irony made her want to shake her head, but she was trying not to move. She’d finally found someone to love and they were both about to die.

  “I told you we were struggling financially,” Nick bit out.

  “So rather than file for bankruptcy you opt for mass murder?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Nick denied. “We were doing good and then a couple of our operatives shot up the wrong house and accidentally killed some Arab kids. We had to pay the families and local officials off. After that, we started to struggle and could never quite get our heads above water. Then that asshole Wenck decided not to renew the only decent contract we had left but instead to put it out for tender…” Nick sucked in a huge breath. “We were going to fold without ARK Mining, but when the interior minister contacted Chris, we realized we still had a chance.”

  By murdering the competition? Haley’s business was important to her, but that was a line she’d never cross.

  “How did the minister know Chris?”

  “We paid him off a few years ago to get the permits we needed to protect Wenck’s mines. Part of the deal was that Chris act as a middleman between him and Hurek. If anyone found out they were communicating directly, the minister would be toast. Hurek was a wanted criminal at that point. We needed the minister to work in the country. He needed us to help direct Hurek’s actions when he wanted to stir up a little local strife. It all worked perfectly until a month ago when he decided to attack the conference.” Sweat coated Nick’s brow. The guy looked like he was going to throw up. “We tried to get him to change his mind.”

  Haley tried not to look at Quentin, but her eyes were drawn back to that handsome face. Those intelligent black eyes. She hated that they were once again in a life or death situation. That she might lose him before she really had him. She hadn’t even told him how she felt…

  “When we found out you were going to be there, we tried again to get him to call it off, but the guy wasn’t budging. Chris said he’d get you out of there, but that didn’t go to plan either. Now we know why.” Nick’s eyes raked Haley.

  Sure, blame her for everything.

  “Things went further to shit when Hurek attacked early, and Chris was still in the building.”

  “You made sure Wenck was out of there before the attack happened,” Quentin pointed out. Yeah, they’d warned that asshole. “You didn’t want to kill the fatted calf.”

  Chris laughed. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

  “Who caused the accident with Wenck’s wife?” Quentin glanced over his shoulder at Nick. “You?”

  “I hired a guy. She made it easy.” Nick’s bullish features were set into hard lines now. “She wasn’t hurt. Just a little shaken up.”

  “Why did they attack early?” Quentin asked.

  He sounded so like the federal agent she knew he was, collecting information. Haley didn’t care. He could ask questions all day as long as it kept them alive for a little bit longer.

  Chris wiped his brow with the hand still holding the weapon, but his aim was steady. “They weren’t the smartest recruits in the world. That’s why I hid at the beginning. Most of the guys knew me but were trigger happy.” He gave an ironic little laugh. “I couldn’t contact Hurek because he was using the signal blocker I supplied him with. I visited him before I went to the conference and gave him your picture in case my initial plan to get you out of there failed. I told him I wanted you alive.”

  “You trained them,” Quentin said with a note of finality ringing in his tone.

  Chris shrugged. She could smell the pungent scent of sweat every time he moved. “What difference does it make?”

  “You murdered survivors at the hotel.” Quentin sounded sickened and disgusted by this man who’d been his friend.

  Haley was sickened by him too. And despondent for Quentin, and terrified for them both.

  “I made sure there were no witnesses—almost died in the process. One guy hid behind the reception desk. I’d just taken him out when I was hit on the head by the ceiling collapsing. You saved my life, buddy.”

  “Did he shoot you or did you do that to yourself as cover?”

  Chris’s silence spoke volumes.

  “You told Hurek to kidnap me.” Fury raced over Quentin’s features.

  “I fucking saved you!” Spittle flew out of Chris’s mouth. Haley flinched. He was going to pull the trigger any moment, and she didn’t want to die.

  “And after that, you killed them all, too, didn’t you?” Quentin wasn’t finished with the guy. Haley stiffened. What Chris and Nick had organized was chilling in its brutality. “All the men you’d worked with in Hurek’s camp. You had them killed.”

  “When Hurek called to say you’d escaped, I knew it was only a matter of time before the government found you and then him. I sent my guys to get rid of any witnesses.” Chris pulled a face. “Hurek escaped though. I have people looking for him.”

  “You murdered women and children.” Quentin sounded strangely calm.

  “If you’d stayed put like you were supposed to, I wouldn’t have had to kill them!” Chris yelled. “It was all set up. A ransom would have been paid. You’d have
had a hood over your head and been driven around for a few hours and then dumped on some island close to a town. You’d have been set free.”

  Haley couldn’t believe Chris was blaming Quentin for the way things had turned out.

  “What about Haley?” Quentin met her gaze, his eyes softening.

  She wanted to tell him she loved him.

  Chris sneered. “When Hurek called to say you’d escaped he mentioned your ‘wife’ was with you. I told him you didn’t have a wife.” Haley’s heart was racing. “If Hurek had known she wasn’t important, he would have treated her the same way he treated the O’Roarke girl until there was nothing left of her worth having. Then he’d have shot her.”

  She flinched. The imagery was graphic and shocking, designed to hurt.

  Nick’s skin blanched but he didn’t lower the gun he held to Quentin’s head.

  “You knew where the Alexanders were, all those months. You knew I was negotiating their release. And you knew exactly who took Darby O’Roarke, and you never said a word.” The condemnation in Quentin’s voice echoed with finality.

  “Who do you think told them O’Roarke was there in the first place?” Chris spat on the floor, and Haley edged slightly away from him. He turned her stomach. “They wanted someone to tell them whether or not their volcano was going to blow up, so I pointed them to the nearest expert. I heard some of the boys got to play with her before you rescued her like some damned hero.”

  Death was too good for him. Haley wanted him to suffer the way Darby had suffered.

  “What happened to you?” Quentin’s voice shook with anger.

  “What happened to me? War happened to me. The government treating me like a worn-out piece of shit happened to me. Bitches like this happened to me.” Chris shook Haley again.

  She set her jaw. She was sick of being pushed around.

  Quentin narrowed his eyes. “You can’t get away with this. Put the gun down. I’ll take you in. Make sure you’re treated fairly.”