Zoe bit the inside of her cheek. “I should go.”
He didn’t move, even though she needed to get past him so she could leave this building of horrors empty-handed. Don’t think about that. But she had to. She needed the reminder of everything that could go wrong to push her to be smart and cautious, to do everything she had to in order to keep her family alive.
This should have been her last stop. Her ticket out for herself, her sister and her son. They would have been on their way. Free.
That was gone now. All she had was nothing but a bag full of cash and no hope.
Not to mention, the police would be here soon.
“How about you stay for a minute. Introduce yourself?” He didn’t voice it like a question, even though technically it was. “I’ll even start.” He touched his chest. “Jude Brauer, Secret Service.”
So that was what the badge on his belt signified. Zoe glanced at the wall like she could see outside and said, “Is the president in town?”
He winced. “I’m local, not on the president’s detail.”
“This is a nice chat and all, but I really should be going.” Where, she had no idea. But anywhere was fine when it would be away from a dead man, a woman who’d been shot and the end of all her options.
“And you’re Zoe.”
He wasn’t going to listen. He was trying to get her to open up when she had zero intention of doing so. Zoe moved then, and some distant, still hopeful part of her prayed he’d just step aside and let her pass. Like prayer would actually work for her now, when it hadn’t so far.
He held out a hand. While not actually touching her, it was still a gentleman’s attempt to get her to stay. The fact that he didn’t force her to stop resonated in that same distant, hopeful part of her from which she’d just prayed. Zoe didn’t let it penetrate. She couldn’t, or she’d stop and maybe entertain the idea that this guy might actually be able to help her.
Which he couldn’t. No one could.
She stepped past him, into the hallway. “Zoe.” His voice was almost kind. She’d been through something traumatic and he adjusted accordingly. His wife probably loved that gentle voice. Zoe chose to ignore it.
She didn’t go back to the front of the store. There was nothing but blood and death up there, and the woman who had been shot hadn’t wanted her help. Zoe had called for the ambulance, then realized she had to find the ID’s Moose had made for her before the cops came. Now she needed to get out of here before they asked too many questions. Before her name ended up on a police record, and her whereabouts were discovered. Anything that could lead to her would do exactly that—and the wrong people would find her.
Zoe moved to the exit door at the end of the hall. Jude Brauer had told her to stay put. Right. The last time she’d stayed it had ruined her life. Not again. No way.
“You can’t leave, Zoe. You just witnessed a crime. Wait for the cops so you can give your statement.”
“I didn’t see anything.” The words slipped from her mouth and she winced.
“You’re going to lie?”
No, she wasn’t going to lie. “I can’t talk to the cops.”
“That guy knew you, and yet he didn’t kill you.” Jude cocked his head to the side. “Was that because I was here?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“I’m guessing that you know a whole lot more than you want to admit to me right now.”
She didn’t say anything, because he was right. Sirens grew in volume. They were right outside. An ambulance. Cops. She couldn’t trust the cops. That had been made completely plain to her when she’d tried to report what she’d seen. No one had believed her, and then she and Tyler had been followed. They’d barely escaped.
Zoe had no intention of repeating that frightful afternoon.
Jude turned toward the sound. While his gaze was averted, Zoe slipped out the back door.
Still, part of her almost wanted to stay.
Almost.
TWO
She’d ditched him. Jude could hardly believe she’d actually done it. Slipped out the back door right when his back was turned, leaving him standing in the hallway talking to himself. He sprinted to the door and ran outside. Looked around. She was gone from the areas lit by streetlights. Had she hidden in the shadows?
“Police!” a voice called from the front door. “Anyone here?”
A woman screamed. Not Zoe; it must have been the purple-haired woman from behind the counter. She needed help.
What he wanted to do was search all the dark places out back for Zoe. Instead, Jude announced himself as he strode into the Laundromat, then explained to the responding officers what had happened. An ambulance showed up, and the injured woman was taken to the hospital. Then two suited detectives and a couple of crime scene investigators arrived. Moose’s body had to be processed.
He explained again what had happened, but all Jude could think about was those wide green eyes. Terrified. Scared of him, and searching for a way out.
“She just left?”
Jude nodded. “I only turned around for a second and she was gone.”
The detectives shared a look.
“She was scared. Jittery. I’m going to search the back parking lot some more. Maybe you can pull feed from the security cameras. Get a picture of her.”
“If Moose actually had real cameras instead of fake plastic ones then that might be doable.”
Jude sighed. His lead was gone, and so was the woman. Now he was back to square one on who had been sending money to the pharmaceutical company. Or why. He said, “I’m going to look out back.”
What he should do was head back to the office and write a report on what he’d tried—and failed—to do. Though he’d rather drive the streets in this area and try to find the woman. He’d probably never see her again.
Why that bothered him Jude didn’t want to think about. She was probably a criminal involved in a deal with Moose, walking the darker side of the law.
The detectives shook his hand. One said, “We’ll call if we need anything.”
Jude nodded and headed to the door, his thoughts still on Zoe. The fear in her eyes had been real. She’d been scared. Frustrated she couldn’t find whatever she was looking for. Had she stuck around, Jude might have been able to find out more about her. If she needed help, she should have asked him for it.
Jude clicked the locks on his car and realized he’d left it unlocked when he heard the gunshots. Thankfully no one had stolen it while he was inside. Couldn’t be too careful in this part of town. He slid in behind the wheel, ruminating about the case.
Everything about it smelled of a powerful broker who needed...something from the Salt Lake City–based pharmaceutical company. Money laundering, but why had they used this approach? Surely there were easier ways to do it than using the many accounts held by such a high-profile company.
As Jude drove in the general direction of the office, his phone rang. He touched the display screen, and said, “Agent Brauer.”
“Jude, honey. It’s Mrs. McAffrey.”
“Is something wrong with you or Turner?” Mrs. McAffrey was his eighty-six-year-old neighbor, the widow of a Salt Lake City police officer.
Turner was Jude’s dog, who she kept an eye on. He figured she left the gate between their yards open because she wanted the company of his old mutt. She also gave him so many treats, and scraps of chicken, Jude hardly needed to feed him.
“No, honey.” She used the endearment like it was going out of style. “He was out barking at the squirrels an hour ago, but it’s all quiet now.”
“Oh, good. What can I help you with?”
“Well, see, the water in my bathroom sink won’t shut off. I’ve turned and turned the knob but it just keeps streaming out.” She paused, and then in her
hopeful voice said, “Could you come look at it, honey?”
“I’m at work right now, but I can call a plumber for you.” He knew she didn’t sleep much, but had she looked at the time?
“And have some stranger traipsing through my house?” There it was, her hopeful voice again.
Jude ground his teeth, but heard a noise in his backseat. It didn’t sound like any of the debris rolling around back there. Instead, it almost sounded like a giggle. He glanced in the rearview, but couldn’t see anything. He needed to keep his eyes on the road, not lower the mirror’s angle. He made a right-hand turn instead of getting on the freeway, and headed for a store parking lot.
He explained to Mrs. McAffrey how to shut off the water using the valve in the cupboard under the sink.
“It’s very tight. I’m not sure...” She went quiet for a second. “I did it!”
“Good,” he said. Half his attention was on the backseat, but he didn’t hear anything else from that direction. “It’s still broken, but at least you’re not leaking water anymore. I’ll come by first thing in the morning and check it out.” Hopefully it would be an easy problem, like a worn-down washer.
“Thank you, honey.”
“No problem, Mrs. McAffrey.” Jude hung up and pulled into a parking space. He got out of the car and drew his weapon, stepped to the back door and yanked it open.
The redhead with green eyes sat in the foot well behind the driver’s seat, one hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. Zoe took a breath, let go of her mouth and burst out laughing. “That was hilarious. That old woman totally bamboozled you.” She seemed on the verge of hysterics.
“Get out of my car.”
Even though she was laughing uncontrollably and tears still rolled down her face, she shook her head. She clambered onto the backseat and shifted away from him at the same time, the duffel over one shoulder so that it bunched against the backrest and lifted her elbow that lay on it.
“Don’t get out the other side.” If she ran again, he’d have to chase her.
She leaned forward. That was the moment Jude knew she’d completely lost it. The hysterical laughing turned to hysterical crying and lasted long enough for Jude to child lock the rear doors on both sides before shutting her in. Then he got back in the front seat and pulled the wad of coffee house napkins from the glove box. “Here.”
She looked at him. She was still pretty, but this might be what his sister called ugly crying. He didn’t put his weapon away, but he did wait until she had pulled herself together before he said, “Why are you in my car?”
Zoe shook her head. Her hair snagged under the strap of the duffel on her shoulder and...shifted. Jude blinked before he realized what was happening. “You’re wearing a wig?”
She blew out a breath and pulled the long, gorgeous red hair from her head. Shame. Still, the dark hair pinned against her head wasn’t unappealing. Those eyes though...
Wait. Was she wearing colored contacts? Maybe everything that drew him to her was fake. Jude’s stomach churned at the idea he’d been duped. This beautiful, innocent-seeming woman was clearly a fraud. He’d been right to be suspicious, and now he was harboring a criminal.
“What do you want, Zoe? Or is that even your real name?” He didn’t like the hard edge to his voice, but what did she expect after she lied to him? At least she had the decency to wince. Jude was out of patience. “Either start talking or get out.” A thought occurred to him. “You ran out of the Laundromat. You left. You could have gotten away clean. Why are you in my car? And how did you get in it without being seen, since those cops pulled up right beside it?”
“They were inside,” she said. “They didn’t see me, and neither did anyone else.” Why did it seem like she didn’t know if that was good or bad?
“You should’ve stayed and talked to the cops. They need your statement.”
She shook her head then, and a fresh tear rolled down her face. “I can’t talk to the cops.”
“You witnessed a crime.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to testify. They can’t make me if I don’t want to tell them anything.”
Jude frowned. Why was she in his car if she didn’t want to talk to the cops? He was law enforcement. “Sure, they can’t force you to say anything, but isn’t the right thing to tell them what you know? It could help catch that guy.”
Her gaze flicked away.
“He knew you.” When she didn’t say anything, Jude said, “He used your name.”
* * *
He had. And this man, Secret Service agent Jude Brauer, had heard it. When she’d run out the back door she’d only gone two steps before she ducked to the side and hid behind the Dumpster. If movies were to be trusted, Jude would run past her, expecting her to be ahead of him. Hardly anyone thought to check right where the chase started.
And so she’d hidden, the same way she’d been hiding for three weeks now—right under their noses.
Zoe should be miles away by now, but she was out of options. Her final plan—the fake passports Moose had made—was out of reach now. Zoe had no one to turn to. She was out of ideas.
Enter Jude Brauer.
For whatever reason she didn’t much want to ponder, Zoe had crept from that hiding spot and around the building to the imposing car with government plates. He’d looked at her with so much compassion, and she hadn’t been ready to let that go.
As soon as the coast had been clear, she’d booked it across the lot, not really sure what she’d been expecting to do. And then she thanked God a million times his car had been unlocked. She’d been able to hide. God might not like her right now, but she knew when thanks were due.
His car. That phone call. For a few minutes everything she’d been through had washed away and she’d actually felt...safe.
He held out his hand from the front seat of his SUV. Zoe stared at it. She wasn’t agreeing to anything; she wasn’t trusting him, but she had to do something.
So she put her hand in his. Strong, warm fingers closed around hers. His eyes glowed with approval. Attraction wasn’t something she could deal with right now, so she pushed the feeling aside. Safety meant so much more.
“It’s nice to meet you, Zoe. I’m Jude.”
“Hi, Jude.”
He let go, but the feeling didn’t dissipate. Inside this car she actually felt safe. It was so foreign she almost didn’t recognize it. Some part of her had seen him in that hallway and just...known. Either way, she knew she’d done the right thing.
It didn’t mean she was trusting him, but Zoe had to face the fact that she seriously needed help. Moose was dead. That guy, the one who had been chasing her for three weeks, so close she’d almost been able to feel his breath hot on her neck...he’d shot Moose and let her live. He must have been given orders to keep her alive, but why? Silencing her would mean the truth died with her. She had nothing but questions—and no way to find answers.
Echoing her thoughts, Jude asked, “So, what now?”
Zoe shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Why do I think you don’t just mean you have no idea where we should go right now?” His lips curled into a smile. “Maybe I meant coffee, or dinner.”
Zoe set her hand over her queasy stomach as the image of Moose falling to the floor played through her mind. “I don’t think I’m going to eat for a week after that.”
“I know what you mean.” His face turned grim.
“Is that woman okay?”
Jude nodded. “We do need to talk. You’re obviously in trouble, or you need help. I’d like to know why.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” The words burst from her lips, the need to defend herself as strong as it always had been.
“I’m not saying you did. What I meant was, why would you turn to me?”
“You were there.”
He waited. Then said, “And?”
Zoe shrugged. It wasn’t the connection. There was one, but that wasn’t it. She hadn’t known before she got in the car that being in here with Jude Brauer would feel so...safe.
“You have to talk, Zoe. You have to tell me something so I know how to help you.”
“What about getting back to work? That’s the excuse you gave Mrs. McAffrey.”
“It wasn’t an excuse. I am working—it’s why I was at the Laundromat. To talk with Moose.”
Her arm on the duffel bag tightened on a reflex. Jude’s glance went to it, not missing a single thing. Why couldn’t she have been better at this cloak-and-dagger, superspy stuff?
Zoe sighed. “That’s why I can’t talk to the cops. They’ll think I had something to do with Moose’s business.” Technically, they wouldn’t be wrong. No, she wasn’t a regular customer. She didn’t know, or want to know, who his usual customers were. But she had hired his services. If Jude wanted to question her about Moose, she wouldn’t have anything to tell him. She hadn’t transacted anything with Moose before he died. The introduction had been conducted through a third party, and today was only the second time she’d even seen the man.
Jude studied her. Great. He probably thought she was a criminal. “How did that shooter know you?”
Zoe measured her words. “I’ve seen him before, several times over the past three weeks. Usually just out the corner of my eye, or on the street. Today was the closest he’s come, and look at what happened.”
She’d always been able to slip away, and yet it seemed like he’d known exactly where she would be today. Had Moose, or the man who’d introduced her to him, sold her out? No, Moose had come out and confronted the man with a shotgun. The man who made the introductions had been killed in a drive-by the week before.
Zoe rubbed her hands down her face. That random “accident” suddenly didn’t seem so random. Had this whole thing been a setup?
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