Run the Risk

by Lori Foster

  Rowdy had kept tabs on it, making sure it remained abandoned, secured and well-stocked with supplies.

  He expected her to go there, so she knew her brother would die before giving up the address.

  In the dark of the night, without security lights and with little moonlight, the big deserted warehouse gave her the creeps. Rodents had surely inhabited it by now, and after so many years, it looked capable of crumbling down around her.

  But she unlocked the rolling metal door, drove the car inside and parked in the back behind heavy, broken machinery.

  The car would make her transformation easier.

  And the transformation would aid in everything else.

  *

  NOT KNOWING WHAT TO EXPECT, Rowdy sat still, silent, in the interrogation room. A bruise under his left eye swelled, but he barely noticed. His shoulders burned from the scuffle in handcuffs before the cops had gotten him into the backseat of that car, but the small aches and pains were the least of his concerns.

  He didn’t know what it all meant, but he knew he had reason to worry. For himself, but especially for Pepper.

  Out of necessity, the times he saw her were few and far between. To see her tonight, in the middle of a nightmare situation…damn it.

  At any moment, he half expected someone to come in and gig him. It’d be easy enough for cops to do—he knew that much firsthand.

  Had Pepper gotten away? Please God, don’t let her—

  Logan Stark—no, Riske, Rowdy had heard him tell Pepper—walked in. His unflinching gaze met Rowdy’s. He didn’t exactly gloat, as Rowdy had expected. In fact, the detective looked resigned, dogged and frustrated.

  Logan eyed the cuffs on his wrists. They’d left behind ugly bruises, proof of his efforts to escape.

  The cops hadn’t given him an opportunity. So far, they hadn’t made a single mistake.

  Pulling out a chair, Logan sat opposite him. “You’re not an easy man to find.”

  Staring at him with red-hot hatred, Rowdy said nothing.

  Logan sat back, looked down at the tabletop. “Pepper didn’t give you up. I—”

  “I don’t need you to make excuses for my sister.” He fucking well knew Pepper would never do anything to endanger him, not on purpose anyway. The blame belonged to the detective.

  And to himself.

  Rowdy had to admit that he’d done a piss-poor job protecting her, and now, because of his incompetence, she might be hurt after all. He should have killed Morton instead of dodging him. He should have razed Checkers so that nothing remained of the club.

  He should have done so damned many things….

  “She doesn’t deserve your rage.”

  Rowdy laughed. “You don’t know shit about what she deserves.” If Logan did, he never would have used her.

  Logan sat forward. “I know she deserves better than a life on the run.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Rowdy considered him. Anger on Pepper’s behalf? That wasn’t what he’d expected from the detective, but then, what better way for the cop to try to get around him than using his sister?

  Again.

  “I’ll kill you.”

  The whispered words took Logan back in his seat. “Is that what you do now? Murder?” He tossed out a file. “I looked through your history, but I didn’t see that one. Is there a confession you want to make?”

  “Go screw yourself.” It’d be better than screwing with his sister. No, he couldn’t let himself think about that. If he did, he’d break his own arms trying to get free so he could take Logan Riske apart.

  “I need information.”

  Rowdy said nothing. Trying to share information had started this whole fucking catastrophe. Trusting a cop, any cop, could get him killed. Not really a good trade-off.

  “You worked at Checkers a few years ago, at the same time that a city commissioner was murdered. Jack Carmin.”

  Saying nothing, Rowdy looked away.

  Logan pressed on. “I know you remember. You went to the reporter—”

  No, he hadn’t, but he said only, “The reporter who got his throat cut open? Yeah, I remember it well.” It was something he’d never forget. Now he prayed Pepper wouldn’t forget, either. “Where the fuck were the boys in blue back then? You ever wonder about that?”

  “Often, actually.”

  That surprised Rowdy enough that he started to reassess. “No shit?”

  After a second of indecision, Logan leaned forward with purpose. Rowdy didn’t know if Logan planned to slug him, murder him or make a confession of his own.

  Before Logan could say a word, the other detective opened the door. “You have a call, Logan.”

  Logan scowled at his buddy. “The lieutenant?”

  “No.”

  Irate over the interruption, he said, “So take a message.”

  The big man’s gaze crawled over Rowdy, then returned to Logan. Voice lower, he said, “It’s about his sister.”

  The chair crashed backward as Rowdy launched out of his seat. With his hands shackled to the table, he could do nothing more than cause a disruption. “Where is she?” Helplessness strangled him. “What’s happened?”

  Logan reacted almost as badly. “Watch him,” he ordered the detective, and in two long strides he left the room.

  Breathing hard, Rowdy stared at the other man. “If she’s hurt—”

  “Emotionally, I’m sure she’s devastated.” In a show of insouciance, the cop put his hands in his pockets and took a relaxed stance at the edge of the table. “The two of you seem hell-bent on ensuring that.”

  Taking him to task? And including Logan in the censure?

  “I’m Detective Bareden, by the way. Reese Bareden.”

  “Fuck off.” This was the weirdest situation he’d ever experienced. An arrest that maybe wasn’t. Questioning that didn’t cover the expected. Casual introductions. And now concern for his sister? Not just from Riske, but from Bareden, too?

  None of it made sense—yet.

  “You don’t know anything about her.” But the detective was right. Pepper needed him now, more than ever.

  Still with disregard for the extreme circumstances, Bareden rolled one shoulder. “I know she’s a young woman who’s been put in an untenable position, with few choices left to her.”

  Unfortunately, Rowdy had even fewer choices than his sister. “Damn you, tell me that she’s all right.”

  “I have no idea,” Bareden said. “But I do know she slipped away from my officers.”

  It took a few seconds for that to sink in past the fear, for the gnawing panic to recede. Pepper had eluded the hawks.

  Thank God.

  Rowdy needed to sit, but he’d toppled his chair. He folded his arms on the table and put down his head instead, intent on regaining his calm.

  Helplessness was not a comfortable happenstance.

  He felt Bareden approach, tensed for an attack, but then heard the chair legs scrape as the detective righted it.

  “My officers are diligent.”

  Not diligent enough, obviously. Not for Pepper. Rowdy sent more thanks heavenward before lifting his head. He smiled at Bareden. “The evidence would prove otherwise, yeah?”

  Bareden ignored that to say, “That was some extreme reaction you had.”

  “Fuck you again.”

  “I’m curious.” He studied Rowdy’s face. “Are you worried about her giving up info on you, or for her safety?”

  Gratefully, Rowdy dropped into the chair. “She’ll never talk.” Not that she had anything incriminating against him anyway. He rubbed tired eyes and prayed that Pepper would disappear, then stay gone. Arrangements had been made to enable her.

  But would she leave him?

  Logan stormed back in. He hit the door so hard that it bounced off the wall with resounding force. Reese tried to stop him, but he shoved past with uncensored aggression to grab Rowdy by the shirtfront. “Where the fuck is she?”

  Unfazed by the anger, Rowdy eyed Logan’s taut featur
es, the bunched muscles, the clenched jaw. Huh. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Detective Riske was actually worried for her.

  Interesting.

  He glanced at Bareden. “And you thought my reaction was extreme?”

  Logan shook him. “Tell me, damn you.”

  “Sure thing.” Knowing it’d get to the cop even more, Rowdy let his satisfaction show. “She’s where you’ll never find her.” And now, finally, he could relax a little—at least on that score.

  *

  PEPPER STOOD AT THE SINK, scissors in hand. Bold streaks of lighter blond now enhanced her natural blond color. Because she’d often cut her and Rowdy’s hair, she wasn’t totally inept. A salon would have been better, but it was too late for that.

  It was too late for hesitation. Too late for a lot of things.

  She got started, and within half an hour she’d finished. Though her hair was still long, she now had layers, more fullness and a little style.

  It didn’t take her long to go all out on the makeup. Shadow, liner, mascara, blush, gloss… She now looked nothing like the mousy, plain, timid spinster.

  As awful as everything else might be at the moment, it felt good to be herself again.

  Rowdy had stocked up on everything she’d need, including some of her old clothes. But the only bra she had was the awful, restrictive sports bra—and she tossed it toward a rusted barrel. With luck, she’d never have to wear that uncomfortable thing again.

  She pulled on a dark tank top and skinny jeans with ankle boots. After strapping a leather belt through the loops of the low-slung jeans, she secured her folding tactical knife in her left boot and drew her cross-body purse over her head and shoulder.

  No one who knew her two years back would miss her now.

  Finally, after hiding so long, she wanted to be seen. After all, if Morton’s cretins didn’t see her, they’d go after Rowdy instead. In jail, he was a sitting duck.

  So she had to be a visible target instead. She owed her brother that much.

  She’d start the night by visiting the station.

  If Morton had heard of the arrest, his henchmen would be watching. Logan had known of her, so it stood to reason that Morton did, as well. She’d draw attention.

  She’d draw Morton Andrews.

  With any luck, his people would come after her instead of her brother.

  She couldn’t imagine what Logan might think when he saw the real Pepper Yates instead of the fabricated Sue Meeks.

  And she didn’t care!

  Damn him, none of this was about him. It was about her brother, about keeping them both alive.

  And if she said it enough, maybe her heart would finally start to believe it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LIEUTENANT MARGARET PETERSON, having just arrived back at the station, stared at Logan with ill humor. Even in her off hours, Peterson didn’t dress casually. She wore her suits and starched white shirts like a suit of armor.

  Logan knew her to be a ballbuster of the first order. But then, at thirty-two years old, she’d seen a lot of ugly things while serving the city. Law enforcement was in her blood; she came from a long line of cops, with an even longer line of commendations.

  She wanted to make a difference. She wanted to clean out the corruption.

  A woman would have to be tough to do that.

  They didn’t come tougher than Peterson. “You have him…where?”

  “Here.” Logan handed her a cup of fresh coffee and refilled his own. “Reese is keeping him in the interrogation room.”

  “Detective Bareden.” Her displeasure couldn’t have been plainer. “I thought we agreed to keep this sting between the two of us.”

  “I trust Reese.”

  “Obviously.” Big blue eyes, short but silky brown hair and a slender body were in contrast to a will of iron. “I’m not convinced that’s wise.”

  So she didn’t trust Reese, and Reese didn’t trust her. In other circumstances, Logan might find that more amusing. But not now.

  Not with Pepper off on her own, scared, hurt, unprotected.

  “How did this happen, Detective?” Peterson perched her hip on the edge of a table in the empty conference room—a room she’d chosen for privacy. “How is it Bareden knows about this before me? I was to be kept informed first and foremost. Did you forget that little detail?”

  “I needed Reese for backup.” And Reese had chosen not to tell her. Logan drank more coffee, impatient with the delay.

  “I could have supplied the appropriate backup.”

  “Unexpected things happened. When I realized I could grab Yates, I had to act fast.”

  “So you somehow stumbled on Rowdy Yates? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Sort of.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck. It was going to take more than a dose of caffeine to set him right tonight. “I was working on my contact—Rowdy’s sister—” who even now could be in danger, damn it “—and he broke into my apartment.”

  The lieutenant’s eyebrows lifted. “The apartment you’re using for cover?”

  “Yes.” Had some of Andrews’s cohorts grabbed Pepper as insurance, to keep Rowdy from talking? Fear for her safety kept his thoughts churning, all but obliterating his tactical reasoning. “I think he was somehow on to me, or he was just being extra cautious. Whatever his reason, he was probably hoping to find proof of my identity.”

  Speculation narrowed the lieutenant’s gaze. “And Reese just happened to be hanging around to assist in the arrest?”

  Here’s where the lie got iffy. “I overheard Pepper on the phone, and from her side of the conversation, I made some assumptions.” Logan held up a hand. “I wasn’t positive of what I heard or I would have contacted you immediately. Hard to believe Rowdy would be that ballsy, you know? I asked Reese to be there mostly as a precaution.”

  Setting down the coffee, she pushed away from the table to pace. “A precaution that paid off.”

  “We have him.” How valuable that’d be, Logan didn’t yet know. “I’d like to get back to questioning him.”

  “You do that.” She turned to admonish him. “But this time, you will keep me informed of every single detail. Is that understood?”

  “Of course.” They left the room together, the lieutenant headed for her office, Logan headed back to Rowdy. He’d get the information he needed, even if it took all night.

  And then he’d find a way to get Pepper.

  *

  REESE HAD JUST FINISHED his hushed phone call in a dark corridor when an officer intruded. Never a real moment of privacy, he lamented, not in a police station.

  He dropped his cell back into his pocket and faced the younger man with an expression of curiosity.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Detective Bareden, but there’s someone at the front desk who wants to see you.”

  “Who is it?”

  “No idea, sir. She asked to see her brother first, and when the sergeant told her that wasn’t possible, she insisted she wanted to talk to you.”

  The tiredness he’d felt a moment ago evaporated. “Fascinating.” He started down the long hall with anticipation. “Go fetch Detective Riske, too, will you? I’m guessing he’ll want to be in on this.”

  “Sir?”

  He wasn’t about to waste time explaining. “He’s in an interrogation room. Tell him you’ll stay behind and keep an eye on his quarry, okay? Make it fast.”

  Reese left the confused officer and lengthened his stride to the front of the station. Just as he rounded the corner, he drew up short in disbelief.

  No way.

  Before being noticed, he studied her nose, the shape of that stubborn chin, and he almost laughed. Incredible, but it was her.

  And yet, it wasn’t.

  In that body-hugging getup she looked…fuck-tastic. Great ass, even better rack. Long legs, tiny waist. A face that’d make a guy fantasize.

  He couldn’t wait for Logan to join him. Hands in his pockets, Reese strode forward. “Miss Yates?”


  She jerked around to face him, and he soaked up the tsunami-force sex appeal. Light brown eyes sparkled with vitality. Not the reserve Logan expected. Not gentleness or timidity.

  This gal was bold and ready to take on the world.

  Reese whistled.

  She firmed her shiny lips and tossed her hair—hair that looked freshly tumbled, as if she’d just crawled out of a lover’s bed. Reese nodded. “I’m impressed.”

  She drew a breast-expanding breath that pulled his gaze back to her chest. “I need to see my brother.”

  “No can do. Not yet anyway.” Reese didn’t bother hiding his interest in her new look. He perused her from head to toe and back again. “Logan is still questioning him.”

  Hands on shapely hips, she let him look. “You don’t understand what you’ve done.”

  “I did it under Logan’s direction.” He shrugged. “He has questions that need to be answered. That’s all.”

  She closed the space between them to poke him hard in the chest. “You’re both fools.”

  “Ah, ah,” Reese rebuked. “No striking the detective.” He removed her hand and then held on to it for good measure. No way did he want her walking off before Logan got a look at her.

  As to that…he maneuvered them around so her back was to the hallway. Better to let Logan get close before she spotted his approach.

  “Stop that.” All but vibrating with frustration, she planted her feet and then tried to free her hand.

  Smiling at her, Reese held on.

  She relented with an indifferent shrug. “I need you to give Rowdy a message for me.”

  And from behind them, Logan said, “Pepper?”

  She stiffened—and didn’t turn to face him. Reese watched her color rise, saw her eyes narrow and her jaw clench.

  “You sent for him?” she asked as if it didn’t really matter, as if she didn’t really care.

  “Of course.”

  Her gaze glued to Reese’s, she asked, “Well?”

  He lifted a brow.

  “My brother. Will you give him a message from me?”

  Reese let out a long, aggrieved sigh. “You’re stealing my fun.” Bodily, he turned her to Logan.