by Anya Summers
“The DA’s office. We have a plan of attack,” Jack explained, pushing open the door to the second floor and holding it for him.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Garrett said as they walked the short distance to the first office on the right and entered the room. Jack didn’t knock, which meant the district attorney knew they were coming. The office was half the size of Garrett’s at the resort but you wouldn’t realize you were in a police station here. It was more sedate. At least, until you spied a stack of case files on the credenza and crime scene photos pinned to a whiteboard on the left-hand wall.
Beside the glossy mahogany desk stood a middle-aged guy, perhaps ten years older than Garrett. His dark, trimmed hair was laced with gray. His skin was darker, a bronzed gold sheen, that displayed his Native American ancestry. And he was half a foot shorter but no less in control, judging by the firm set to his dark brown eyes.
“Garrett Brooks, I would like you to meet our District Attorney, Joe Avery,” Jack said, making the introductions.
He shook the man’s hand. Joe had a firm grip and his gaze never wavered. “Pleasure.”
“Likewise, Mr. Brooks. I must say, I didn’t realize we had the heir to the Brooks Hotels living here in Jackson.”
He grimaced. “I’m not the only heir and, in truth, it will be my sister who will run the empire even more than she does now, once my father decides to step down.”
“It’s curious that you would snub your inheritance that way,” Joe Avery replied, sizing Garrett up and taking his measure with a glance.
Garrett rarely talked about his family. He loved them and they him; even his mother did, regardless of the strain of their relationship. But at the end of the day, he’d had to go in his own direction. Garrett shrugged. “I’ve preferred making my own way in life. Carving out something that is mine, free and unfettered by family expectations.”
“I can see that,” Joe stated, releasing his hand and moving around to the black leather chair behind his desk. It was a power move, Garrett recognized, in the way he unbuttoned his dark gray sport coat and sat.
Garrett felt like he was under a microscope.
“Well, have a seat.” Joe Avery indicated with a wave of his hand toward the chairs in front of his desk and waited until he and Jack did his bidding before he continued, “As Detective Stone might have mentioned, with a contact of his at the Bureau we’ve been able to locate another individual the suspect Gail Ambrose has blackmailed.”
“Yes, he did mention it,” Garrett commented, but he didn’t feel like it was enough.
“I’ve reviewed the tape you made in your office. Because of the delicate nature of it, this is a need to know only operation. In coordination with the Bureau, we need to get a confession from the suspect or get her to agree to a confession.”
“What I was able to glean in my office wasn’t enough then?” Garrett asked as the knot of dread tightened in his chest. He had no idea how they were going to stop Gail from destroying his life.
“She never says outright that you didn’t rape her, for one, only that she will go public with the tape. As far as I know, the FBI is still mining the files they found on her cloud service. What you need is a confession where she says you never raped her and she was taping you so that she could hold it over you later to blackmail you with.”
Oh, was that all? Why didn’t Joe just ask him to catch a falling star? It would be one hell of a lot easier to do. “How the hell do you expect me to get her to squawk like that?”
“I think I might have an idea. It’s a bad one, and one we’d need to call Spencer in on,” Jack chimed in with a resolute expression in his hazel gaze. Garrett trusted Jack. They were the best of friends but Gail’s betrayal had affected him more than he realized. It made him wonder about a person’s ulterior motives, even those he held most dear.
Garrett glanced between both men, unsure about the steps to take, but he needed Gail out of his life for good. If he wanted a chance with Cora and Milo, he needed this finished. Whatever had to be done to ensure Cora and Milo’s safety and that none of this touched them, he would do, so he’d have to take a leap of faith here. “Bring in Spencer, and then I hope like hell you can explain it to me.”
“It’s something I think might work. The technique of course is unusual, but I find myself intrigued by the methods Detective Stone suggested. And my office will supply the operation with whatever recording devices are needed,” Joe Avery stated.
Dread shivered through Garrett. “And what did the detective recommend?”
Jack stared, his face unyielding. “We get her to confess using a Dom trick.”
“What?” Garrett chewed out, his voice harsh as a cold fury descended over him.
Jack held his hands up, attempting to diffuse his anger. “Look, just hear me out. We set up one of the private rooms in the club with recording equipment. You lure her into the room, getting her consent to the scene on tape, then proceed to get her into subspace. Once she’s in subspace, have her confess her transgression. From there, once we have the confession on tape, we can use that to get a formal, legal, signed confession from her.”
“I won’t touch her.” He couldn’t. If Cora found out, she’d kick him out of her life so quickly there would be skid marks. Not to mention the mere thought of touching that viper once again made his dick shrivel up.
“You won’t, you’ll just be in the room,” Jack said, with Joe silently studying the entire interaction.
At the loud knock on the door, Garrett turned to find Spencer standing there. He was back to looking like a businessman in black dress slacks and a royal blue dress shirt. But even though Spencer had a classy sheen to him, he was the guy you wanted in a dog fight. He was okay with blurring the lines a bit to suit his means. And, in truth, there was no one Garrett would rather have at his back.
“They dragged you in on this?” Garrett asked as some of the initial anger faded.
Spencer waltzed into the room as if he owned the place and took a seat. “This was kind of my idea, dude.”
“I won’t touch that viper. Cora would hate me for it if she ever found out.” He was having a difficult enough time keeping this whole thing from her. Especially after the promise he’d made her. He squashed the guilt simmering underneath. Once this was all in the past, he would confess everything to her, but he hoped by then she would care for him and wouldn’t shun him or shut him out of her life.
“And then I’d have to kill you for hurting her.” Spencer never minced words, even if you’d rather he not be as blunt.
“Um, guys, we are in a police station. No threatening to kill each other in front of the district attorney, please. You’re making me look bad,” Jack said with a pained grimace.
Joe Avery waved the comment away. “It’s all right Jack. I understand their positions. But let’s get down to the nitty gritty on how we’re going to catch the little blackmailer.”
They spent the next two hours discussing how Garrett was going to lure Gail to the club and entice her into what she would believe was going to be a threesome with him and Spencer. It would be Spencer administering the flogging and doing the touching, not Garrett. His dick withered at the mere thought of touching her.
At the same time, Jack and Joe would be in Spencer’s office with the video feed. They also arranged for Jack to go to the hotel the following day to get his hands on her tablet computer in coordination with Sasha.
Once everything was in place, with some of what he would be forced to do set in stone, Garrett felt better than he had since Gail’s advent back into his life.
With that, he and Spencer left the police station together.
“You sure about this, Spencer?” he asked at the door to his truck.
Spencer had slid his sunglasses over his eyes when they emerged outdoors. But he pushed his hands into his pockets, glanced down for a minute, and then said with a shrug, “Look, neither of us is actually going to fuck her. If I have to be the one doing all the touching t
o flog her and get her into subspace in order to force a confession, so be it. I’ll take one for the team.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment, I hate to make you a part of this.”
“No one is making me. I’m doing this because I want you to have your chance with Cora. I think you guys fit. And since you’ve been around, she’s been smiling more than she has since her husband died,” Spencer said, staring at him through his sunglasses.
“What was he like?” It was something he hadn’t asked Cora, was afraid to ask her just yet.
“Jeff? Hardworking, a bit of a partier, and a daredevil, which was why firefighting fit him like a glove. But he was a decent sort, treated Cora well. He and Cora were good together. And I know my cousin loved him.”
“But?” What wasn’t Spencer saying?
“Not to speak ill of the dead, but I’m not sure they would have lasted. Cora was settling down, getting pregnant, and he was still pulling stunts. Promising her that he would stay out of danger and then breaking that promise to wade into the thick of the action. It’s what killed him in the end. He traded places with another member of his station, went in first, and bam, a steel beam from the warehouse ceiling fell on him. As much as she loved him, I think a part of her has hated him, too, for leaving her the way he did, for breaking his promises to her.”
Well, fuck.
Garrett hadn’t questioned agreeing to her condition, had thought it was rather cute and innocent. But then again, he had wanted her and hadn’t been able to see past the haze of his desire for her. So he’d gone and promised he wouldn’t lie to her even though he’d known he was holding back from her. He decided he’d tell her as much as he could about his past without involving her in this sting operation. It wasn’t exactly a lie but an omission. He just needed a bit more time and then he would confess all.
Besides, he wasn’t certain enough of her feelings for him to confess everything just yet.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I haven’t been a daredevil since Iraq.”
“Yeah, well, keep it that way. Because I think Cora and Milo need you, and you need them just as much. I’ll run to the club and start making preparations, including giving my cousin the night off on Friday.”
“Thanks, dude. Call me,” Garrett said, and Spencer saluted him with a smirk and the middle finger. That was exactly what he would be if things went south with Cora. Well and truly fucked.
In a few days, Gail would be out of his life for good. And hopefully, if he played his cards right, he would be starting the next chapter—with Cora.
Now he just had to keep her away from the resort and the club.
Chapter 21
Cora wasn’t sure what she’d expected of Garrett’s house. It sure as hell wasn’t a palatial estate with a paved circular drive. Nor a kind of home that looked like it would be featured in the tourism bureau magazine. It had the appearance of being rustic, with its walnut logs fashioned into a log cabin style, but it was warmer than the log cabins she’d been to and one heck of a lot larger. His home was a combination of wood and stone with a slate roof. Golden exterior lights glowed near the front door.
The house was on its own private lane. She knew he had money. After her interview with him, and learning that he owned the ski resort, that was a logical deduction to make. But this kind of wealth had never crossed her mind. It was rather unnerving and a little frightening.
Garrett parked his truck near the front door and got out, coming around to the passenger side. He opened her door and held out his hand.
“Cora?” he said.
“Uh right, sorry.” She put her hand in his and let him help her out of the truck cab before turning to grab Milo from the back.
“I’ve got him,” Garrett said.
Milo didn’t hesitate to go into Garrett’s arms. Nor did Elmo. The small pup bounded into the man’s arms.
“This is your house?” Milo asked, wide-eyed. Cora knew the feeling.
They walked up the steps to the wide front porch crafted of stone. It had obviously been made to weather the winters here and still managed to be esthetically pleasing. There was a wooden bench and some matching chairs off to one side. It would be pleasant to while an evening away watching the fireflies come to life as the sun set over the mountains. She could picture herself and Garrett after a long day, cuddling on the bench while Milo and Elmo raced around trying to catch the fireflies.
If she wasn’t prepared for the outside of his home, the inside was another animal entirely. It was massive and elegant. Directly inside the front door was a living room, or perhaps it was called a great room. There were soaring twenty-foot ceilings. One wall was comprised almost entirely of a bank of windows and the view was awe-inspiring.
It was a clear, unobstructed view of the nearby mountains. Even the forest outside appeared to have been cultivated to provide such distinct scenery, with the pine trees forming a small corridor with nothing but grass and wildflowers so that you could see the entirety of the mountain.
The floors were all golden walnut hardwood. The color made the room appear warm and cozy, even though her entire condo could fit in the giant living room. There were stone fireplaces and a huge chandelier made with antlers. The couches were masculine in design with deep seats in a tan leather that was butter soft to the touch.
Throughout her perusal, Garrett studied her.
“Your home is lovely,” she murmured.
“I’m glad you like it. I’m not here enough.”
Garrett set Milo and Elmo on their feet. Likely a bad move on his part. They began racing around the open space. But Garrett didn’t seem to mind.
“Milo, please, baby, you and Elmo need to slow down.” Her son was normally extremely well behaved but there were times when he was still a kid and proved it.
Then Milo squealed.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Look Mama, toys!” Milo held up a box of some blocks.
“Before you play with them, you need to ask Garrett first.”
Garrett walked over to Milo, leading him to a space near the window and Cora’s jaw dropped open. It was like a kid-sized wonderland of toys. Milo’s eyes were as big as saucers. Even Elmo had stopped trying to tug on Milo, as if he understood how big a deal it was.
“All of these are for you to play with when you’re here, squirt. Why don’t you and Elmo play for a bit while your mom and I get dinner ready. Think you can do that?” Garrett asked her son.
“All for me?” Milo clapped his hands and bounced up and down.
“All for you. Now, do we have a deal man to man that you’ll behave?” he asked.
Milo nodded.
“Good deal, bud. After dinner, you and I can play, okay?” Garrett said and grinned when Milo got all excited. Then Milo entered the land of toys with building blocks, a Fisher Price tool station and more like he was right at home.
When she would have protested leaving him alone in the room, Garrett waylaid her.
“He’s fine. They both are. Come on into the kitchen with me,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her with him.
Cora was bemused in spite of herself at Garrett’s nonchalance over how Milo and Elmo had used his great room like they were training for the Boston Marathon. Did he not realize that leaving a three-year-old and a puppy alone for any measure of time could spell disaster? She’d have to listen and check in on him. “You do realize this is my son, he who can break something in under a minute.”
“Just come sit, have a glass of wine, and tell me about your classes. How are things going at Matt’s gym?” he said, and his words carried an undertone of command.
Cora didn’t mind. Heaven help her, she was beginning to find his dominant nature charming and rather arousing to boot. The man did have a unique talent to ignite her internal combustion to meltdown temperatures.
The open, airy kitchen was connected to the great room. And the motif of golden walnut flooring continued. The cabinets were dark
espresso-colored wood with ivory and gray marbled granite countertops and stainless steel appliances throughout. Cora could see herself at the stove baking cookies for Milo, Elmo lying contented in a dog bed near the huge oak dinner table. And Garrett coming in and sliding his arms around her waist.
“Something smells lovely,” she said and accepted a glass of wine from his hands.
“Everything’s ready but the noodles. Milo does like spaghetti with meatballs, right?”
“He loves anything with noodles, especially if cheese is involved.”
“There will be. Have a seat while I get the noodles going.” Garrett indicated one of the stools by the center island.
Cora climbed on the stool, knowing deep down she was sinking fast where Garrett was concerned.
“So how is the gym going?” Garrett asked, efficiently moving around his kitchen like he wasn’t a stranger to cooking.
“Good, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I like it there. I just don’t like not being with Milo as much.”
“It has to be a difficult balancing act,” Garrett said, putting a pot filled with water on the stove and turning the burner on.
“It can be. I’m always worried that I’m not doing enough or, on the opposite side, that I’m worrying too much instead of just enjoying how well-adjusted and normal my kid is.”
“You’re a really good mom. I’ve seen the way Milo is with you and he thinks the sun rises and sets with you.”
“Thank you,” she said, blinking back tears as pleasure at his words spread through her.
“As for the job, Cora, if it’s not working out at Matt’s gym, you can come work for me. I know you’ve been resistant to it, but you’d be able to work during the day and bring Milo with you. We have an excellent daycare center with a ton of activities that he would enjoy. And yes we are in a relationship, but we could set a rule that while we are at the resort it’s all business. When we are here or at your place, we focus on just us and not work.”
“You really want me to work with you?” she said, contemplating his offer. Part of the reason she’d wanted the job as much as she had was because it would mean she didn’t have to work at the club too. It would give her more time with her son.