Wait Until Dark

by Kat Martin

  The mayor was seated at his desk when Rutherford walked unsuspectingly into the office. Nattily dressed in a linen sport coat and slacks, he jerked to a halt just inside the door, his gaze swinging from Rydell to Jonah and April.

  “What’s going on, Mark?”

  “Close the door, Collin.”

  He did so slowly, as if he needed every second to prepare for what might lay ahead. Jonah knew people. From the moment he had met Collin Rutherford at the fund-raiser, he had known Collin would be the weak link if he was involved in the murder scheme.

  “The man next to April is Jonah Wolfe. He’s a private detective.”

  “We’ve met,” Collin said. “What’s this about, Mark?”

  Jonah lounged against the back of the sofa. “It’s about the money you stole from the mayor’s campaign fund, Collin. It’s about killing David Dean to cover it up.”

  Rutherford blanched. “I don’t...don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Jonah rose from the sofa. “I’m pretty sure you do. Does the name Action Advertising mean anything to you?”

  When Rutherford didn’t answer, April stood up, too. “How about the Alamo Bank in Houston?”

  Rutherford swallowed and started shaking, his eyes darting back and forth between Jonah, April and the mayor—the instant before he bolted.

  He was out the door and racing through the office at breakneck speed, shoving people out of the way, knocking over chairs, stumbling, righting himself, determined to reach the glass front door and escape.

  Jonah tackled him just before he got there, the two of them crashing into a table, sending campaign brochures flying. Jonah swung a punch that sent Rutherford careening backward, sprawling on the floor.

  Grabbing the front of Rutherford’s shirt, Jonah hauled him to his feet and hit him again, snapping his head back, a blossom of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. He groaned as he teetered back and forth, still standing. The fight had gone out of him, and his brief struggle was over.

  The mayor’s two bodyguards ran up and dragged Collin’s hands behind his back, slid on a plastic cable tie and cinched it tight, slamming him down on a chair.

  “Cops are on the way,” one of them said.

  “You’d be smart to cooperate,” Jonah said. “It’ll go easier on you. That includes giving the police the names of the other people involved in David Dean’s murder.”

  Collin whimpered and started crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

  April ran up beside him, took in Jonah’s skinned knuckles and the pulse thrumming in the side of his neck. “Are you okay?”

  Jonah drew her against him, an arm around her waist. “I’m good. We’re almost there, baby.”

  She looked up at him but didn’t pull away. “You think he’ll tell them the truth about what happened?”

  “Rydell is going to call for an audit and it’s going to prove Rutherford embezzled funds. He knows that. He also knows the longer he waits to come clean, the worse it’s going to be. Rutherford’s going to roll over on whoever helped him and he’s going to do it soon.”

  The police arrived within minutes. The call had come from the mayor of Dallas, after all. Rutherford was settled in the back of a patrol car and hauled off to the police station with twenty people in the office watching.

  Jonah wondered how long it would take him to incriminate Peggy Watt.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  YOU HAD TO be smart to be a good private detective. That didn’t mean you were always right. It took less than twenty-four hours for Collin Rutherford to confess to embezzling money from Mayor Rydell’s reelection campaign fund.

  The surprise came when he copped to the murder, but refused to give the name of whoever helped him. If there actually was one.

  “I did it,” Rutherford said. “No one else was involved. I made sure I didn’t leave any DNA or fingerprints in the car or anywhere else. I muffled the shot with a pillow then walked back to Jacobsen Street. I tossed the pillow into a dumpster and hailed a cab to take me home. No one else was involved but me.”

  “What about the men who tried to kill Ms. Vale?” one of the detectives asked. “Two attempts were made on her life. We need their names.”

  “I found them in a bar in Old East Dallas.” It was one of the meanest areas in town. “I paid them cash. I don’t know their names.”

  No amount of questioning was able to shake him.

  Hell, maybe he was telling the truth.

  The good news was, the threat to April’s life was over. With the embezzlement and murder out in the open, there was no reason to kill her. At best, it had been a last-ditch, desperate effort to keep her from pushing the investigation, and it had failed.

  April was back in her town house and Jonah was back in his apartment. He missed her. He hadn’t expected his feelings could grow so strong so fast. He wanted to see her. The bad news was, she hadn’t returned any of his phone calls.

  You win some, you lose some, he’d learned.

  Recently, he’d learned he really hated losing April Vale.

  * * *

  APRIL REPLAYED JONAH’S latest phone message for the third time that night. “I want to see you, April. I don’t want us to be over. If you don’t call me back, I’m coming to your house. One way or another, we’re going to talk.”

  The message ended and April felt the same hollow ache in the pit of her stomach she’d felt the first time he had phoned. She had convinced herself to play it safe, stay away from Jonah.

  But she didn’t want to. Being with him felt right. He made her hungry for life, hungry to experience the feelings he stirred, see where the future might lead. He made her start thinking it might be worth taking a risk on another man.

  She had just picked up her cell phone to return his call—at least listen to what he had to say—when an odd sound came from the kitchen.

  April frowned. Had she locked the back door? She usually did, but not always. Her little .380 was evidence in a homicide, so it was still in police custody. She had returned Jonah’s pistol. When the sound came again, she wished she’d kept it.

  She still held her phone in her hand. She brought up 911 in her contacts and carried the phone into the kitchen, her finger on the Call button just in case. She’d only taken a couple of steps into the room when a man’s thick arm locked around her neck, sending fear sliding through her and freezing her in place. He knocked the phone from her hand and it landed with a clatter on the floor.

  She managed to drag in a lungful of air, but it was hard to breathe. She tried to pry the man’s arm loose, tried to scream, but only a muffled cry escaped. She couldn’t see him behind her, but when he spoke, she recognized the voice.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”

  Confusion slipped through her, followed by a shot of anger. Brad Schweitzer. What the hell?

  She tugged on the arm that held her immobile and it loosened enough for her to catch her breath. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me, Brad.”

  He released his hold and spun her around to face him. Her heart jerked at the sight of the big semiautomatic pistol he pointed at the center of her chest. April fought not to cringe at the look of hatred on Brad’s handsome face.

  “You managed to put Collin in jail for murder,” he said. “But all he did was steal a little money. He never would have had the guts to kill David.”

  Her pulse was throbbing, her heart thumping wildly. “You did it? You were the one who killed him?”

  “That’s right. Collin means everything to me. He’s the only person who ever gave a damn about me. And you destroyed him. You destroyed both of us.”

  Her mind was spinning, trying to connect the dots and at the same time figure out a way to get control of the gun.

  “So you and Collin...you’re together? Not Collin and Peggy?”


  He grunted. “People are so easy to dupe. ‘If David was murdered, his real killer needs to be brought to justice,’” he mimicked, repeating the words he had said at the fund-raiser. “What a load of drivel. Collin always had a weakness for the finer things. I didn’t know he was stealing until it was too late. When David found out, I knew it was him or Collin. I chose Collin.”

  She stared at the gun and tried to stay calm. “Why did you come here, Brad? Collin confessed to the murder. He told the police he did it alone. You were safe.”

  “Thanks to you, he’ll be in jail for years and I’ll be alone. I want you to pay for what you’ve done.” He lifted the pistol, pointed it at her head. It was now or never.

  When a noise outside drew Brad’s attention for an instant, April sprang forward, knocking his hand into the air, the pistol discharging with a roar, the bullet smashing through the window above the kitchen sink. The blast echoed in her ears as she and Brad crashed to the floor.

  April gripped his wrist with both hands and fought for control of the weapon, but he was bigger and stronger and she could feel him gaining the edge. She gritted her teeth and held on with all of her strength, but he was winning, forcing the gun around, pushing the barrel toward her heart. She had seconds to live.

  She clamped down on her fear and continued to fight, heard the back door crashing open and saw Jonah rushing into the kitchen. He grabbed Brad by the back of the neck and jerked him off of her, kicked the weapon out of his hand with a big black motorcycle boot, and smashed a fist into Brad’s handsome face.

  Brad went down hard, blood spurting from his nose and mouth. He managed to roll to his feet, lowered his head and charged, his shoulder hitting Jonah in the stomach, carrying him backward into the refrigerator. Jonah jerked him up and threw a punch that sent Brad flying. He slid down the wall, slumped on the kitchen floor, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Unconscious, he didn’t get up.

  April’s heart hammered as Jonah knelt beside him. Turning him onto his stomach, Jonah cuffed Brad’s hands behind his back with a plastic cable tie Jonah took out of his jeans pocket. Brad groaned but didn’t move.

  Rising, Jonah strode the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “You okay?”

  She clutched his shoulders and managed to nod.

  “You scared me to death,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “I heard the gunshot. As I ran around back, I saw him through the window.” A shudder ran through his tall frame. “I was afraid I’d be too late.”

  April clung to him, fighting to hold back tears.

  His hold subtly tightened. “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be all right.” Pulling out his cell, he dialed 911 and gave the dispatcher the address of the town house.

  April couldn’t stop trembling. She felt like crying, but swallowed her tears instead. She looked up at Jonah. “It was Brad, not Collin. Collin is a thief but not a killer. Brad murdered David to protect him.”

  Jonah nodded but didn’t let go. Police sirens wailed in the distance. Jonah kissed her softly on the lips. “I’ve missed you, baby. I can’t tell you how much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Jonah. So much.”

  He caught her chin and tipped it up, forcing her to look into his face. “I’ve never cheated on a woman I was involved with. I wouldn’t cheat on you, April. Give me a chance to prove it.”

  She looked at him and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I want to be with you, Jonah. I’m miserable without you.”

  “Yeah, baby. Me, too.” Jonah wiped away a drop of wetness with the edge of his thumb, then he leaned down and very softly kissed her.

  With Jonah’s solid frame around her, protecting her, everything inside her seemed to settle and fall into place. They were right together. She should have seen it before.

  Instead of being afraid she was making the wrong decision, April had never felt so safe.

  * * *

  New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin returns with a brand-new series doing what she does best! Maximum Security is full of larger-than-life heroes and whip-smart heroines caught up in high-stakes, fast-paced romantic suspense.

  Read on for a sneak peek at Until Midnight.

  Can’t get enough of New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin?

  Until Midnight

  New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin raises the tension and the passion when family ambition turns deadly...

  Harper Winston’s brother has disappeared. Pursuing his dream of sailing the Caribbean, Michael hasn’t responded to texts or emails in days. When even the Coast Guard can’t find him, Harper is forced to take desperate measures. Which means going to Chase Garrett, once her brother’s best friend, now the only man she can trust...or so she hopes.

  As the successful owner of Maximum Security, Chase has learned to trust his gut. He knows Harper’s father is mixed up in a deadly business, and suspects there’s more to Michael’s disappearance than meets the eye. Getting involved again with the Winstons goes against everything he stands for, yet old loyalties die hard. As the case draws him closer to Harper and deeper into the Winstons’ snarled crime family, he is forced to put everything on the line to keep Harper safe...and both of them alive.

  Order your copy now!

  “Kat Martin is a fast gun when it comes to storytelling, and I love her books.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller

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  Until Midnight

  by Kat Martin

  CHAPTER ONE

  Dallas, Texas

  SHE KNEW WHO he was. The only man at the gala in a black tuxedo and shiny black alligator cowboy boots. Chase Garrett. The man she intended to hire to help her find her missing brother.

  Harper Winston had known Chase since the day her father had thrown an obnoxiously extravagant party in honor of her sixteenth birthday.

  Chase had attended with her older brother, Michael. She had spotted Chase in a swimsuit standing next to the pool, tall, with a lean, hard-muscled body, whiskey-brown eyes and thick, dark blond hair. In the sun it had gleamed like pirate’s gold.

  Aside from the close-trimmed beard along a jaw that had hardened with maturity, Chase hadn’t changed. He still had the perfectly symmetrical features of a movie star combined with a toughness that appealed to a legion of women.

  Now that she was thirty, Chase thirty-five, Harper still found him ridiculously attractive, though he’d never given her more than a passing glance.

  He didn’t notice her tonight, though she wore an elegant strapless black gown that hugged her slender curves and set off the pale blond hair she wore long and slightly turned under, framing her face. She glanced over to where he stood next to a stunning brunette, a successful lawyer in Dallas, the typical sort of woman Chase dated. Self-made career women, professors, bankers, stockbrokers. Not someone like her, the daughter of a wealthy Texas businessman, a woman who had attended Sarah Lawrence along with a bevy of other rich socialites from around the country.

  It didn’t matter that she was nothing like they were. That she hadn’t the least interest in society. Her interests lay in the business world, in Elemental Chic, the company she had started, a line of affordable, stylish and well-made casual clothing and accessories.

  She wasn’t cut out fo
r teaching or social work, she had discovered during a year of volunteer work in South America, an adventure she had undertaken mostly because her father disapproved.

  Harvard Business School was where she was meant to be, she had grudgingly conceded. As her father had insisted and was eager to pay for—business being one of the few interests she and Knox Winston, a self-made multimillionaire, had in common.

  Unlike her father, Chase Garrett came from old money, which he disdained, though he and his two brothers had inherited a not-so-small fortune from Bass Garrett, Chase’s dad.

  Harper lifted a champagne flute off a passing waiter’s tray and took a sip. Chase might not notice her tonight, but he was the reason she was there. She hadn’t seen him in years, but when she had read in the newspaper that he would be attending the gala, she’d seized the opportunity. She wanted to see the man he had become, the man she would be facing tomorrow.

  It didn’t matter what he thought of her as a woman. She needed his professional assistance. Her brother was in trouble. She knew it deep in her soul. Mikey had disappeared, and Chase was among the few people she trusted to help her find him.

  Chase owned Maximum Security, a firm that specialized in private investigation, bail enforcement, personal protection, business and residential security. She had done her homework, knew he had offices in Phoenix and San Diego as well as here in Dallas. Chase was wildly successful, his reputation impeccable.

  No matter his opinion of her, he had once been a close friend of her brother’s, a man Michael trusted completely. She needed Chase’s help, and she was determined to convince him.

  She wouldn’t give up until she did.

  * * *

  STANDING NEXT TO CHASE, Marla Chambers, his date for the evening, took a drink of her martini. “You don’t look like you’re having a very good time,” she said. “Should I be insulted?”

  His mouth edged up. “Sorry. I was thinking about a case. I can’t seem to get it off my mind.”