She already knew the answer—possibly had known all along.
It was just time to stop fighting it.
* * *
Xander was eager to put what they’d learned into play but by the time they’d returned to their motel, it was too late to make calls and they were both starving. They couldn’t risk a restaurant so it was another dinner of burgers and fries.
“With a steady diet of fast food, I’m getting a jump on my future Dad bod,” he joked, rubbing his stomach. “Nothing says you’re getting older than discovering your metabolism has slowed to turtle speed.”
Scarlett scoffed at his complaint. “Men have it easy. All you have to do to drop a few pounds is stop eating carbs and drinking beer for a few days and you’ll be back to fighting weight. Women are biologically engineered to gain weight for the good of the species.”
Xander grinned. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” she retorted, finishing her fries. “Well, I don’t plan on having kids so if my ovaries could stop sending the estrogen overload straight to my hips, that’d be great.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with your hips,” Xander said, holding her gaze, daring her to shut him down. “If I recall...your hips were perfect for gripping with two hands...”
She flushed and he knew they were both remembering that night. Hot damn, the memories were scorchers.
But he throttled himself down. As much as he wanted a repeat of that night, he would respect her boundaries.
Scarlett deliberately unbuckled her holster belt and placed it on the table, her nimble fingers moving to her belt and zipper. The spit dried in his mouth as she shimmied out of her jeans. He managed to quip, “I don’t want to get the wrong impression but...” before she stripped off her shirt and tossed her bra. “Okay, now I’m confused but in a good way.”
Scarlett smiled and pushed him to the bed, straddling him. “Let’s just say you make a persuasive argument,” she said, right before sealing her mouth to his. That was all the encouragement he needed. He slid his hands up her bare back to grip the back of her neck, moving to caress her face and it was like putting gasoline on an ember. Within seconds, he was struggling to get out of his clothes but right at the worst possible moment, his back spasmed, punching the air from his lungs and all he could do was stiffen and gasp. He hadn’t had a chance to take a painkiller with Scarlett around and the piper was coming for his due.
“Xander?” Scarlett climbed off him, concerned, but he couldn’t move, his muscles were contracting in a cataclysmic symphony of complete agony. “What’s wrong?” she asked, the urgency in her voice climbing.
He managed to gasp, “Over there, in my jacket pocket...”
She scrambled off the bed and rifled through his pocket to find his pill bottle. Her gaze narrowed at the narcotic but shook out two pills and returned to Xander with water, helping him get the medicine down his throat.
It would take about fifteen minutes for his body to metabolize the meds but he was sweating from the pain.
Scarlett quietly put her shirt back on and leaned back against the headboard, watching him. He could practically feel the questions building in her sharp mind but he couldn’t focus on much more than the pain racking his body.
To her credit, she waited until the meds kicked in before her interrogation began.
“There’s nothing in your file that says you’re on narcotic pain meds,” she said.
“I didn’t get them from a Red Wolf physician,” Xander said gruffly as he slowly rolled to a seated position, the pain finally subsiding to a dull roar. “For that precise reason.”
“You know that’s a violation of protocol,” she said.
“Of course I know that.”
“Which begs the question, why would you do it if you knew it went against the rules.”
He sighed, not ready to have this conversation. Scarlett absolutely deserved the truth but he didn’t have the balls to go the full Monty just yet. In the interest of self-preservation, he went with a variation of the truth. “Look, don’t make a mountain out of this. Here’s the deal, I jacked up my back about six weeks ago doing something stupid at home and I knew I wouldn’t qualify for any benefits through Red Wolf, so I just went to my private doc for some pain meds to get me through. I’m almost out of my prescription and once it’s gone, I won’t refill it. I’d already decided on that but I’m in the process of weaning myself off the shit right now and that means dealing with the occasional temper tantrum from my back.”
Some of the suspicion faded from her gaze. His explanation made sense, even if some of it was embellished.
True, he’d messed up his back off-hours and knew he couldn’t turn in the claim to Red Wolf. He never figured the meds would turn him into a junkie. Hell, he’d truly thought that a few weeks on the stuff would help heal his back and then he’d be done.
But that wasn’t the case.
And his injury wasn’t six weeks ago... More like six months ago. A person didn’t turn into a full-blown addict without sufficient time to settle in properly to the new reality.
He rose stiffly to grab some more water. “Look, I don’t want you to worry that I can’t handle myself. I’m almost back to my regular messed-up self. I can promise you that.”
More lies.
For damn’s sake, he needed to just shut up.
When backed against the wall, use humor to defuse the situation—that was his MO.
“Give me a few minutes to redeem myself and we can resume what we were doing,” he said, casting a hopeful look her way but he could tell that ship had sailed, at least for tonight. “Or maybe a rain check on that booty?”
By way of answer, Scarlett swung her legs over the side of the bed and popped up with the curt announcement, “I need to shower,” leaving Xander hunched over like an old man, feeling like a total shit for not having the courage to be truly honest.
Lying was a crappy way of showing his appreciation for her help, but he knew how that conversation would go and he couldn’t afford the luxury of honesty right now.
He needed Scarlett on his side or else he was truly screwed.
When this was all said and done, he’d level with her and let the chips fall where they may.
Until then...he had to stay the course.
And be much more diligent about hiding his dirty little secret.
Chapter 9
Last night weighed heavily on Scarlett’s thoughts, but she didn’t have time to dwell much longer as the day had already started with a troubling phone call on her burner.
“We got an issue,” her buddy with the FBI, Special Agent Conrad Griggs, said. “I’m giving you a heads-up that pressure is coming down hard to bring your man in. I don’t know whose cornflakes he pissed in but he’s made the wrong people take notice. My boss just ordered me to make bringing Scott in a top priority.”
“Damn it,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Why?”
“I don’t know but I’ve never seen Platt so agitated about a case that’s basically below his pay grade. He doesn’t give two shits about most arrest warrants but he’s ready to throw every resource needed to put Scott’s head on a platter and deliver it with mustard sauce.”
“Do you know anything about Wakefield Industries?” she asked.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. What is it?”
“A company that’d been ready to strike a deal with McQuarry right before he died. Think you can poke around for me?”
“I don’t know. There’s a fair amount of heat on this case, which means that there’s more to it than anyone is willing to talk about.”
“Yeah, my thoughts, too. I know it’s asking a lot but do what you can to stall your team. We’ve got some leads we’re running down but we need more time.”
“Time is the exact thing you don’t have. I don’t kn
ow, maybe the best thing would be to convince Scott to come in on his own. We could do some digging behind the scenes once he’s in custody.”
That idea gave her a chill. Maybe Xander’s paranoia was contagious but she firmly believed that Xander wouldn’t make it out of lock-up alive.
“Not an option,” she answered, shaking her head. “Look, there’s something dirty going on and that affects us all, not just Xander. If they could frame a highly decorated vet, what’s to stop them from framing you or me? None of us are safe when there’s an internal threat—you know that.”
A beat of silence passed between them until Conrad responded with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you’re right but we could both end up on the wrong side of this fight depending on how high up the threat is.”
“I’m well aware of the danger,” she said. “Can you do this for me?”
She was asking a lot but she didn’t have much of a choice.
“Yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he finally agreed, and she exhaled in relief. Having Conrad on their side was a big advantage. She only hoped it didn’t get him fired. “I’ll be in touch.”
Conrad clicked off and Scarlett immediately called Zak. “FBI is starting to gear up. I’ve got someone on the inside running interference but I need you to dig into the following names: Carlton L. Sheffton, Gary S. Williams and Lana J. Holbert.”
“Sure thing,” Zak said. “You got some leads?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got some more digging to do. In the meantime, I need background intel on these people ASAP.”
“You got it, TL.”
She clicked off just as Xander exited the bathroom, towel wrapped around his midsection as he dried his hair. “Anything worth sharing?” he asked.
“Yeah, we’re screwed if we don’t kick it in gear. FBI wants you bad. All resources are being directed toward bringing you in.”
“Damn, look how I rate,” he joked but she didn’t find it funny. People were walking a razor tightrope for Xander and he’d better start realizing it.
“Humor is neither appropriate nor appreciated,” she said, rising to strap on her weapon. “You seem to forget that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Hey, hey, settle down, sheathe those claws. I didn’t mean to be dismissive. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Bad idea on my part. I’m sorry.”
She rolled her head on her shoulders, her neck cracking in several places. Mollified by his apology, she said, “Our timeline just got shorter. We need to hurry if we’re going to find answers before the FBI finds you.”
Xander nodded in agreement. “We should talk to McQuarry’s widow and his mistress and see if their stories match up.”
“Good idea.” She cut him a dismissive glance. “While you get dressed, I’m going to get some coffee.”
She didn’t wait for his response and left the room. She was currently operating in bitch mode, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Xander hadn’t been completely honest with her last night. Her intuition was something she never questioned and it’d kept her alive when circumstances had tried to snuff her out.
But why would Xander lie?
The nagging sense that Xander was hiding something kept eating at her but with the FBI breathing down their necks, she didn’t have the time to pull the truth out of him.
Not now at least.
Later, she’d find out what he was hiding and then decide the appropriate course of action.
Feeling generous, she returned with two coffees, pleased to find Xander had already set up meetings with both women.
“You have some strange voodoo that enables you to get what you’re after,” she said. “How’d you get the women to agree to meetings?”
“I told them the truth...”
“The truth?”
“Yeah, that I was investigating McQuarry’s death.”
“From what angle?”
“I was vague on that point but they took the bait without much more needed.”
“Interesting. All right, what time?”
“In an hour with the widow, lunch time with the mistress.”
She nodded with approval. “Good. Let’s make it happen. Time is ticking.”
Grabbing her coat, she swung it around her shoulders but was surprised when Xander pulled her close by her lapels.
“What are you doing?” she asked, wary.
“Just reminding you what’s between us,” he answered, brushing his lips against hers, igniting heat with the slow slide of his mouth. She didn’t need reminding. Her mouth opened and his tongue accepted the invitation, dancing with hers. A dangerous fire burned between them but they didn’t have the time to play. It took extreme force of will to break the kiss but she did. Xander released her and she left everything unsaid, choosing to spin on her heel and walk out the door.
Physical attraction didn’t erase the feelings of doubt and it sure as hell didn’t prove Xander’s innocence.
And by God, he’d better be innocent or she’d put him down herself.
* * *
Something with Scarlett was off, but she was too focused to let personal feelings interfere with the investigation.
He admired her willpower. Scarlett would never find herself addicted to pills. Scarlett would probably chew her own arm off before she succumbed to something as basic as pill addiction.
Yeah, that line of thinking was productive. Not.
Xander shrugged off his own thoughts and put his head in the game where it belonged. “The widow agreed to meet at her place, which is in some gated community filled with the ultra-rich.”
“Not surprising,” Scarlett said with derision. “Have you ever known a bigwig politician to live modestly?”
“Nope.”
“Exactly.”
They climbed into the car and headed for the widow’s mansion in the tony area of Tulsa, arriving with ten minutes to spare.
The colonial mansion, built in the 1800s by a founding father, had been restored and upgraded with stately elegance, flanked by exquisitely manicured lawns and foliage that probably cost a fortune to maintain. No wonder McQuarry needed that kickback. This place seemed a bit above his pay grade, even for a lawyer turned state senator.
“Nice digs,” Xander murmured and Scarlett agreed. “Must cost a pretty penny to keep the lights on.”
Scarlett knocked politely and within moments, the door opened. A stereotypically attractive older blonde woman with stylish attire and a smart bobbed haircut answered with a strained smile.
“You must be Detective Jones,” she said, extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Scarlett slid her gaze over to Xander but remained quiet, following his lead. “Yes, thank you, Mrs. McQuarry, for meeting with me and my associate during this difficult time.”
She nodded and ushered them into the beautifully furnished home to a quiet sitting room filled with books and assorted antiques that complemented the home’s colonial style.
It was definitely camera-ready for any home-and-garden-type magazine.
“You have a lovely home,” he said, playing the part of the gentleman. If Scarlett was choking on her tongue, she showed no sign of it. Another point for her power of will. Xander knew she was probably resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Xander purposefully sat near the widow while Scarlett took a position where she could watch the exits. Force of habit. Always know your points of entry.
“Have there been any leads into who did this to my sweet Kenny?” she asked, her voice quavering a little. “He was such a good, God-fearing man. I can’t imagine who would want to do this to him.”
“And the other innocent victims,” Scarlett added quietly.
“And yes, of course, the other victims as well,” Mrs. McQuarry said with a delicate sniff as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s all so awful.”
“So tell me what happened from your point of view that day,” Xander said.
Mrs. McQuarry drew herself up, gathering strength to recall. “Kenny was scheduled to speak, kicking off his campaign re-election trail. Of course, we decided he should start with Tulsa because that’s where our dedicated base begins but I never would’ve imagined that someone would do something so horrific on what was supposed to be a wonderful day.”
“Did your husband have any enemies?” Scarlett asked.
“No, he was beloved by everyone.”
“Even Senator Williams?” Xander asked.
At the mention of Williams, Mrs. McQuarry stiffened slightly, her fingers curling into her handkerchief. “They were colleagues and peers. With men of their position, they were bound to disagree at times but never enough to warrant murder.”
“Even if there was a lot of money on the line?” Xander watched Mrs. McQuarry’s reaction closely.
“What do you mean?”
Was that real confusion or feigned? It was true not all men included their wives in financial decisions but Mrs McQuarry seemed sharp enough to be involved with her husband’s political career, so why stop there? Xander decided to gently clarify. “We recently discovered your husband was very close to closing a lucrative deal with Wakefield Industries but Williams and Sheffton weren’t in favor.”
“Everyone knew about the Wakefield deal. It was going to revitalize industry in Oklahoma. For goodness’ sake, it was going to be a blessing!”
“There were some who believed Wakefield would’ve been a nightmare with their rampant environmental hazards. Not everyone was on board with bringing Wakefield to the state.”
“Small-minded people, perhaps.” She lifted her chin, her gaze glittering. “My Kenny always wanted what was best for his constituents.”
“But was Senator McQuarry truly brokering that deal for the people or his pocketbook?” Scarlett asked pointedly.
“How dare you!” Mrs. McQuarry gasped, outraged at Scarlett’s question, her face flashing a spectacular shade of red. “And who are you again?”
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