His eyes were puffy from sleep, and he wore only a pair of low-riding pajama bottoms that left the rest of his body on glorious display.
She’d had him inside her only a few hours ago, but her body was heating and softening, aching for him again. The man was clearly addictive, and if she didn’t watch herself, she’d end up doing something stupid and fall for him.
The two of them would never work long-term. He had roots here, a family that needed him. She couldn’t see him giving all that up to travel around the world with her. Besides, what would he do with himself? How would he earn a living? She barely earned enough to support herself, much less two people.
And the idea of giving up her life to settle down felt more like a prison sentence than a future.
It was best if she kept things in proportion and remembered that while it was okay to enjoy him while she was here, that’s all she could do. As soon as she found Ashley, she’d move on, and so would he.
Yesterday, that idea wasn’t nearly as daunting as it was today. It had been difficult resisting him before, but now that she knew how good all those muscles felt under her fingertips and tongue, how perfectly they fit together, resisting him was nearly impossible.
She cleared her throat and pulled her eyes back to her laptop screen. “I slept for hours, thanks to your vigorous efforts to wear me down.”
He gave her a knowing grin. “You needed the rest.”
“I know. Thank you. It helped clear my head enough to figure out what I need to do next.”
“And what’s that?”
“First, I have to rent another car. Then, I’m going to talk to the detective who was assigned to Susan Maloney’s case and see if he has any possible leads. Maybe if he has some suspects in mind, the photo might give him some direction as to who to go after. I also need to talk to the press again today. Ashley’s story is losing weight, and I don’t want people to forget she’s still missing.”
“You’re not serious.” His tone was sharp with anger, making her look up at him again. His mouth was tight and his brows were drawn together in a scowl.
“Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were nearly killed yesterday.”
She’d been trying hard to forget. Thinking about those terrifying moments nearly froze her with panic, which wasn’t going to do Ashley any good. “That means I’m getting close. Susan Maloney is the key. If I can find out what happened to her, I’ll find Ashley.”
“What makes you so sure she’s the key?”
“Her mother recognized the man in the photo. She saw him the day Susan went missing.”
Trent let out a harsh, scoffing sound. “How could she be sure that was the same guy? The photo is horrible at best. It shows a white guy with at least one eye and one ear. A lot of people match that description. It doesn’t even give a clear idea of what color hair or eyes he has.”
“She was sure.” Elise was, too. She’d seen the woman’s reaction and knew it was real.
“The woman’s daughter is missing, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And they found her kid’s hand, but nothing else.”
“Right.”
“Was she acting lucid? Was she thinking clearly? Or was she crazy out of her mind with worry, grasping at any straws she could find? You went to her with your story of a missing sister, showed her a guy you think did it. Of course she’s going to think that’s the kidnapper. What did you think she was going to do?”
“She wasn’t making this up.”
“Maybe not intentionally, but people like her don’t make reliable witnesses. Surely you know that.”
“No. I don’t. She saw this guy, Trent. She saw him the day her child was abducted. That’s why she remembered him—he was etched into her mind.”
“You believe her because you want to, because you want to find a lead. I get that you feel out of control, and that you need to do something, but you can’t be sure that woman’s daughter has any connection to Ashley.”
“If I’m on the wrong track, then why did those guys come after me? They followed me from Mrs. Maloney’s house.”
“My guess is that they’d been following you since we left Sally’s. Someone there destroyed the video footage of Ashley coming in and leaving Friday, which means someone is covering this up. Whoever is doing that was one of the guys who went after you, or he was the one who ordered the hit. They would have followed you whether you went to that woman’s house or the freaking grocery store.”
“You weren’t there, Trent. You didn’t see the look of horror on this woman’s face when she saw the photo. I’m sure she recognized him.”
Trent rubbed a hand over his short hair. “You could put fifty guys in a room and every one of them would look similar to the man in that photo. You’re fooling yourself if you think otherwise. I’ve seen lineups in action. I’ve seen witnesses pick cops that were planted in the lineup, claiming they were the ones who raped them. Emotional people make horrible witnesses.”
Mrs. Maloney had definitely been emotional. Maybe Trent knew what he was talking about, but Elise couldn’t take that chance. “What if you’re wrong?”
He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. His eyes caught and held her gaze, and the sympathy she saw there made her chest ache. He took her hands in his and his thumbs trailed over her skin in a caress as gentle as his voice. “What if I am wrong? What if visiting this girl’s mother is the thing that caused those men to try to kill you? Would it be so bad to let it drop?”
“If it means not finding Ashley, then yes.”
“You’re willing to risk your life on a guess?”
It was more than a guess. It was a feeling. An instinct. “Absolutely.”
“I won’t let you.”
Shocked outrage rocketed through Elise. She jerked her hands from his and forced herself not to scream the words. “You don’t have any say in this.”
“Last night gave me the right to have an opinion.”
“It gave you the right to an opinion about what sexual positions you like, what brand of condoms to use, about whether you sleep on the right or left side of the bed. It didn’t give you any right to tell me what to do.”
“Someone needs to stop you from getting yourself killed.”
She shut her laptop and stood from the chair. “I’m sick of people telling me how dangerous this is. I understand that investigating my sister’s abduction is not the safest thing I can do, but it’s the only thing I can do. I can’t leave her out there alone, waiting to see what will happen. If you want to act like my mother and keep me under your thumb, then I’ll find another place to stay.”
Elise turned to leave, but Trent stopped her, wrapping a hand around her arm. “If you leave, those guys will find you again, and this time, they’ll succeed in killing you. Who will help Ashley then?”
“I’m not backing down, Trent. If you have a better idea of how to go about finding Ashley, I’ll listen, but I won’t give up on her.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to be careful—let the police handle the dangerous stuff. Maybe those guys only meant to warn you to back off, but it could have been more than that. They could have been sent to kill you.”
“Why? Wouldn’t that only create more buzz, attract more attention? Not only is my sister missing, but I end up dead. That’s going to turn a lot of heads and make people ask a lot of questions.”
“Not if you die in a car accident. It would be easy enough to say you were overwrought with emotion or fatigue and lost control of your vehicle.”
She hadn’t thought about that angle. She hadn’t let herself think about the car chase at all, but it made sense. “They’d make it look like an accident so no one would ask questions.”
He nodded. “The fact that you got away to tell the tale will either back them off, or make them more desperate to finish the job before you tell too many people what happened. Either way, there’s more going on here than one missing
girl. Maybe Ashley found herself a boyfriend who’s in the Mob. It would explain why thugs were chasing you.”
“They didn’t come after me here, so either they don’t know where I am, or they’ve already backed off, right?”
“Who knows? What we do know is that you’re not safe. You can’t pretend you are just because you don’t like the idea of being more careful.”
“I’m fine with the idea of being more careful. I’m just not willing to sacrifice results.”
“It’s your only safe option. I’m sorry.”
Elise knew he was trying to help. She also knew she was in danger, but not as much as Ashley was. She had to focus on what was important and let everything else fall away, no matter how appealing it was to sit back and let other people take care of her problems, put themselves in danger.
She looked up at Trent, hating what she knew she had to say. “We had a great time together last night. I like you, and you’re sexy as hell, but I think that the sex has given you the impression that things between us have changed. They haven’t. I’m here to find my sister, and you’re the Hot Lawn Guy who lives across the street. I don’t have the energy to fight you, too, so I think it’s best if I check into a hotel.”
Anger darkened his cheeks. “You think running away is going to fix things? You think that’s going to make you safe?”
“No, I think it’s going to save me valuable time by not having to argue with you over every move I’m going to make.”
“You’re safer here, with me.”
“Maybe, but Ashley isn’t safer. Neither are you with me here. If those guys come after me again, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Outrage made his features tighten and his voice clipped. “I know how to protect myself. I can keep us both safe.”
Elise took his hand in hers. “I’m tired, Trent. I’m scared out of my mind. I can’t stretch myself much thinner without breaking, and trying to convince you what I know I need to do is taking up too much of my attention.”
“I will not let you do this. I don’t want to be the one to ID your body when those thugs find you.”
“Then don’t. This isn’t your business anymore. Forget I was ever here.”
It didn’t take her long to pack her stuff. By the time she was done, the rental car company had already sent someone with her new car—a sporty model with plenty of horsepower. Just in case.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When we hit oil, we usually quit digging,” said Sam.
Trent looked at the deep hole he’d carved into the earth. It was way too big for the bush he was planting, but not nearly big enough to contain his frustration and worry for Elise.
“Sorry,” he said as he started to fill it back in.
Sam bent and tapped the bush out of the plastic pot. “Yesterday, you were like the brother I remembered. Even with Elise in trouble, you still handled yourself the way you used to. Today, you’re back to being a surly bastard. What the hell happened?”
“Forget about it. I’m here, doing the job. I even came in early to make up for the last few days.”
Sam slit the tangled roots with his knife and dropped the bush into the hole Trent had refilled partway. “I don’t give a shit about the lost time and you know it. What I do care about is you.” He stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. “I thought you were coming back to us.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Trent. “I never went anywhere.”
“Sure you did. Maybe you showed up for work, and family get-togethers when we twisted your arm, but it wasn’t really you. Your heart wasn’t in it—not since you moved back from Chicago.”
Not since he’d shot his partner and killed a sixteen-year-old boy.
Trent’s gut flooded with acid and guilt, mixing with the coffee he suddenly wished he hadn’t had.
“Yesterday, when we were driving out to find Elise, you were back. I saw the man you used to be— confident, rock-solid, there to do whatever it takes.”
“I always do whatever it takes.”
“Then why aren’t you out there looking for Ashley?”
“Because I’m not a cop.”
“Neither is Elise. It hasn’t stopped her.”
Much to his dismay. “That’s because she’s not smart enough to know when she’s in over her head. I tried to warn her, but she didn’t want to listen. She packed up and left so I’d quit wasting her time.”
“Are you that bad in bed?”
“No, dickhead. She was tired of me harping about how dangerous looking for Ashley is.”
Sam shook his head, staring at Trent like he was the idiot here. “Ashley is her sister. She’s not going to back off because she almost had a car accident.”
“Obviously.”
“If you really want her to be safe, you’d be with her right now, backing her up, giving her your insight.”
“I’m not a fucking cop, Sam!”
“Yes, you are! You don’t wear the badge anymore, but you were born for the work. You never stopped being a cop; you just stopped going to work every day, and it’s killing you. It’s eating you alive from the inside out. We were all sure you’d see that by now, but apparently, you’re either too blind or too stupid to see the truth. You never should have quit.”
Trent thrust the shovel into the ground and gripped the handle hard to keep from reaching for his brother. Anger burned hot and bright inside him, fueled by each careless word Sam flung his way. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Back the hell off.”
Sam took a belligerent step forward, just like he used to do when they were teens. “No. There’s too much at stake here. You’ve had plenty of time to sulk and pout over what happened two years ago, but it’s over now. Move on.”
“Move on? You’ve been saying that for years, like I can flip some kind of switch and make all the shit I did disappear.”
“You made a mistake. According to John, it wasn’t even that—just a case of bad timing.”
Bad timing. Trent would have laughed out loud at Sam’s ludicrous statement if there had been one shred of humor to be found. “I shot my partner in the back. I killed a kid.”
“Shit happens.”
“Just like that. You dismiss the destruction of so many lives with a fucking bumper-sticker slogan?”
Trent had to walk away. If he didn’t, he was going to punch Sam in the head to knock some sense into it.
Sam grabbed his arm. Trent tried to jerk away, but Sam was strong, and he refused to let him go. “It would be great if you could give up this guilt you’re carrying around, but at this point, I’m not going to ask for miracles. What I am asking you to do is get out there. Help Elise find Ashley before it’s too late.”
What he wouldn’t give to be able to do that—to do something meaningful again, something real. “The cops don’t need me.”
“But Elise does. She’s not going to back down.”
Not even when thugs were out to hurt her.
Sam sidestepped in front of Trent, barring his path. “Please, Trent. If you won’t do it for Elise, do it for me. Ashley’s a sweet girl. She’s delicate, fragile. She needs you right now, and apparently, the police do, too. Help them.”
What if he couldn’t? What if he tried and failed?
A small, hopeful voice inside him whispered to him, taunting him. What if he didn’t fail?
What if he found Ashley? Saved her? What if he stood by Elise and somehow made a difference?
A sense of purpose trickled into him, filling him up. He had to try. He had to help. He couldn’t stand by and plant bushes while Elise threw herself in harm’s way, all alone.
“I’ll need some time off,” he told Sam as he headed for his truck.
“It’s yours. Take as much as you need.”
Trent didn’t even take the time to gather his tools. He left them on-site. He didn’t give a shit if he ever saw them again, so long as he found Elise before it was too late.
* * *
&nbs
p; Gary paused the TV, stopping on the image of Elise McBride’s tearstained face as she pleaded with the public to help her find her sister.
She was beautiful in her grief. Perfect.
He’d thought Gloria had been a gift, but now he realized he’d taken the wrong woman.
Of all the women he’d found, Elise looked most like his beloved wife. Maybe it was the tears, the sweet pain straining her features, but Elise was almost the spitting image of Wendy.
Gary closed his eyes, remembering the moment he lost her. She’d stared at him from the passenger’s seat of their wrecked car. He’d gone too far and hurt her that night. She liked the pain he gave her, begged for it, but that night, he’d given her too much, and she’d stopped breathing.
Gary had panicked, packed her into the car and driven like hell itself was nipping at his heels. He hadn’t seen the patch of ice until it was too late.
He could still smell the cold, mixed with the scent of blood and gasoline. He could still feel the slight weight of Wendy’s severed hand in his lap, so beautiful and perfect in its stillness.
It was the last gift she’d ever given him.
Wendy had woken during the accident. She’d stared at her hand, too, shocked and confused, as the last of her life drained from her crushed body onto the floorboards. Gary saw the realization that she was dying set in, saw the fear and panic as it changed her face from merely pretty to breathtakingly perfect.
In her last moments, as death swept over her, as she realized she was helpless to prevent it, Wendy had been the perfect woman.
As hard as Gary had tried, no matter how many women he’d been with during their last moments, he’d never again been able to find that perfection. Until now.
Elise McBride.
He needed her. He needed to bring her home, where she belonged. If Ashley’s disappearance had made Elise’s face glow with tears, Gary could only imagine how lovely she’d be when he allowed her to be with her sister again and witness Ashley’s final moments.
It was Ashley’s turn to die, but Elise would be there to take care of her. She’d be there to hold her sister’s hand.
Love you to Death Page 18