Trusting Danger: Romantic Suspense (Book Two of the Danger Series)

by Caila Jaynes

  But the news wasn’t good. Eleanor was failing quickly.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Willing her rolling stomach to calm down, Claire made her way into the video visitation center of the DC Jail. Although lawyers could meet with their clients in person, social visits with prisoners were now done by video conferencing. It was much like the Facetime video chats Claire had enjoyed with Gabe from time to time when he was traveling, but then he’d been calling from exotic locations throughout the world, not from a depressing, sterile room like this one. And old-fashioned phone handsets like the ones on either side of the video screen in the booth weren’t necessary.

  This was the last place in the world she wanted to be, but Claire needed closure. More than anything else right now, she needed to look Gabe in the eye and ask him why. She’d gone over and over everything in her head for two days now, since she’d gotten the news on Sunday, and now was as ready as she was going to be to confront him.

  A guard nodded at Claire when she handed over the visitor’s forms she’d completed, then pointed down the long row of booths, over half of them in use. “Have a seat at number twenty-six.”

  After thanking him, Claire walked down the row and seated herself on a round blue stool in front of a video screen, small partitions on either side giving an illusion of privacy. As she stared at the dark screen, she remembered her father’s warning that morning. This visit would be recorded, so she shouldn’t say anything about her role entertaining clients with Gabe. She spotted a camera on the ceiling and eyed it for several seconds before lowering her gaze.

  Claire took in the starkness of the room around her, the yellow cinderblock walls and the speckled gray Corian of the booths’ partitions, and tugged listlessly at the strap of her purse.

  How had it come to this? Gabe was the last person she’d expected to be sitting inside a jail cell, and for setting up a Ponzi scheme, no less. Why had he done such a thing?

  She drew in a breath as the screen lit up and Gabe appeared. He wore a defeated expression that brightened slightly when he spotted Claire’s image, and he gave her a tired smile. He nodded at something the guard was saying before taking a seat at his video station.

  As Gabe picked up the handset and held it to his ear, she froze, focused on the orange jumpsuit he wore. His lips moved and she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but understood the words he mouthed. Pick up the phone.

  Biting her lip, she picked up the handset on her end.

  “Claire, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you so much.”

  She blinked several times as she stared at him. Did he really expect her to be normal, to be the loving and supportive girlfriend? He must not realize she knew about the kidnapping plot.

  Alleged plot, the lawyer inside her whispered.

  “Is it true?” she whispered. “Were you so desperate for money that you tried to have me kidnapped for ransom?”

  “No!” Gabe’s eyes widened as he leaned toward the camera. “It’s not true! How can you even think something like that? I love you.”

  “Is the Ponzi scheme true?”

  “That’s not something I can discuss right now,” he said, not meeting her eyes. When he looked up again, his expression held longing and sadness. “You’re the one good thing in my life. All I want is to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Nausea spread through Claire at his words. Gabe had fooled so many, had caused so much pain.

  Since his arrest three days ago, stories were beginning to emerge on his victims. From young people trying to save for their first house to retirees who’d trusted Gabe with their nest egg, the investors had lost everything—their whole life savings. The media had been focusing on his victims so far and hadn’t spent much time yet on his associates, including Claire, but she suspected that reprieve wouldn’t last for long.

  Gabe had spent most of the money rather than investing it, which meant he was no longer able to cover the returns he’d promised his investors, not to mention their original capital. As sick as it sounded, it made sense that he would try to have her kidnapped. Desperate people did desperate things. How many times had her father repeated that these past couple of days?

  She recalled the day before, when an SEC agent had come to the house to interview her. Her father had insisted an attorney be present.

  Despite her father’s fears, though, the meeting had gone well. The agent had not only been understanding, but sympathetic. He’d seemed to believe her when she said she’d known nothing of Gabe defrauding his clients.

  Claire scanned Gabe’s face, looking for some semblance of the man she thought she knew. Thought she loved. But all she could see now was a desperate man who would do or say anything to escape the terrifying situation he found himself in.

  “People gave you their life savings, Gabe. They trusted you.” When he didn’t respond, she asked, “How much money did they invest with you?”

  He remained silent, his gaze downcast.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know, Claire. A lot.” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the handset. “I’d never hurt you. Please tell me you know that much.”

  She didn’t know anything anymore. Unable to remain there for a second longer, she stood.

  “No!” His eyes widened and he half rose from his seat. “Please don’t go.”

  “I have to. I . . . I’m sorry. I can’t see you again, Gabe.”

  The shock and sorrow in his eyes tugged at her heart, but she tamped down her sympathy as she replaced the handset in its cradle and moved away from the booth. Tears blurred her vision as she headed for the exit. She swiped at her face and then stopped to dig into her purse for a tissue.

  Gabe could have achieved so much. He was smart, brilliant even. How could he have let all that intelligence and charm go to waste?

  All those houses. All those cars. He hadn’t needed them, but he’d been hell-bent on accumulating possessions. It was as if he’d been playing some sort of game.

  Claire blinked back her tears and headed out of visitation. She should be heartbroken that things had ended with Gabe, but she wasn’t. If anything, she felt more relieved than anything else. In truth, she’d made up her mind that their relationship was over before she’d known about the Ponzi scheme and the suspicions Grayson’s team had about his involvement in the kidnapping attempt. Gabe’s arrest had just made it easier for her to face him and break things off.

  No, it was another loss that left her feeling miserable. Her heart twisted at the thought of never seeing Grayson again.

  Remembering that her client was also housed at the DC Jail, Claire stopped short and looked back toward visitation. What were the chances she’d be able to see Chris? If the guards permitted it, she could explain her absence last week. She’d already apologized to Leah, but had stopped short at telling her exactly why she couldn’t be at the last meeting, and she’d left messages for her professor that hadn’t been returned. But there was one more person she owed an apology, and she’d prefer to do it alone rather in the group meeting scheduled with Chris later in the day.

  She smoothed a hand over her slacks and approached the guard who’d helped her. “There’s someone else I need to see.”

  “You know someone else here?”

  “Yes. A client.”

  “You’re a lawyer?” The guard’s eyes narrowed as he studied her.

  “A law student. My professor is the lawyer on record, but I’m helping with the case. I’m happy with just doing a video meeting, if that can be arranged. I know I should have faxed over a request yesterday, but since I’m here . . .”

  The guard nodded and asked Claire to take a seat on a bench as he made a call. Minutes later, she was back in the same visitor’s booth when the screen flickered and brightened, and she could see Chris being led in.

  She studied him as he shuffled forward, his bony wrists in handcuffs. He looked young enough to pass for a middle schooler. How in the world was he surviving ins
ide these walls?

  As he took a seat, he picked up the handset on his end. She did the same.

  Giving her a confused look, he said, “I thought we were having a group meeting today?”

  “We are, later this afternoon,” she said, “but I wanted to talk to you alone first. I’m sorry that I’ve been gone, Chris.”

  He gave her a disgruntled look. “What happened to you?”

  “You’re not going to believe it. I was in protective custody.” Lowering her voice, she quickly explained the threat against her and he frowned, his freckled forehead pinched with concern.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, trying not to think about Jeremy. “I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about. I hear you haven’t taken the deal.”

  Chris averted his gaze. “And I’m not going to.”

  “Are you scared?” she asked softly.

  Raising his blue eyes to meet hers again, he scoffed. “’Course I’m scared.”

  Claire bit down on her lip as her mind spun. What if protective custody were an option for Chris too? She’d need to bring it up with Professor Moore.

  She studied the boy and the dejected slump of his thin shoulders. “Please don’t give up, Chris. Okay? We’ll talk more in the meeting later today.”

  He shrugged, not meeting her eyes as he stood and hung up the phone.

  Christopher Jones couldn’t go to prison; that much was clear. But what was it going to take to keep him out?

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Has there been a confession yet?” Grayson paced his kitchen, holding his phone to his ear as he waited for Eli’s reply.

  “No, and it doesn’t look like there will be. Gabe Rogers lawyered up immediately.”

  “Did he say anything about the kidnapping attempt?”

  “According to the SEC, he hasn’t said anything at all.”

  Frustrated, Grayson clenched a fist. “Then I want to keep guarding Claire.” When the only response was silence on the other end of the line, he pushed harder. “It’s necessary, Eli. At least until we know there’s no more threat against her.”

  “All right. But only you, not a two-man detail. We need to get this case tied up soon.”

  Grayson closed his eyes as relief flooded through him.

  “But, Gray,” Eli said, his voice turning stern, “I had a conversation with Claire. She said you two had trouble getting along. Is this going to be a problem?”

  He stiffened, clutching the phone tighter. “Absolutely not. We’re good now.”

  “Make sure it stays that way. Since we don’t have another safe house available yet, will you take Claire back to your place, or will you stay at her parents’ house?”

  “I’m not sure it matters now, but I think it might be best to stay at Claire’s condo. She’ll be more comfortable there.” Changing the subject, he asked, “Anything else I need to know?”

  “Local law enforcement searched Rex Gibson’s place. In addition to the drugs we expected, they found a key to a safe deposit box.”

  “At which bank?”

  “We’re not sure yet. Let’s hope that once we find out and get a warrant to open the box, it contains something useful.”

  Trying to organize his thoughts of the case, Grayson asked, “Have you heard from the lab about Jack Lawson’s car?”

  “Not yet. I was going to check back with them this morning.”

  “I can take care of it.” After ending the call, Grayson packed his duffel bag and left a note for Camden and Autumn, who were out shopping.

  These past couple of days, he’d been unable to get Claire out of his mind. As much as he’d tried to deny it, there was chemistry between them.

  But how would today go? The last time he’d seen Claire, she’d been in a state of shock.

  When Grayson arrived at the Parker residence, a three-story Federal home in Georgetown he was pretty sure was on the National Historic Register, Claire’s father opened the door. About fifty, Thomas Parker was of average height and trim build, his dark hair graying at the temples. Just like the first time Grayson had met him, the senator was wearing a tailor-made suit and well-polished oxfords, a tiny American flag pin in his lapel.

  “Claire had a meeting to go to but should be back shortly.” He gestured for Grayson to enter. “I was just about to pour myself a whiskey. Can I interest you in one?”

  “No, thanks. I’m on duty, but please don’t let that stop you.”

  “Sparkling water for you, then?”

  “Sure.”

  Grayson followed the senator as he walked toward a mahogany-paneled bar in the living room to the right. Thomas took the top off a crystal decanter and splashed amber liquid into a rock-cut glass. He snagged a bottle of sparkling water from the hidden mini fridge and handed it to Grayson as they made their way to the room’s leather club chairs.

  Curious, Grayson took in his surroundings. The house was elegant, renovated to its former glory and furnished tastefully. It must have cost upward of $10 million, and yet the Parkers split their time between this house and their original home in Worcester, Massachusetts, according to Claire. Add Claire’s condo and the mountain property to the tally, and the Parkers were quite well-to-do. And that was just their real estate holdings.

  Grayson wasn’t sure whether he should be intimidated or impressed. He decided on the latter, although being around wealth of this magnitude tended to make him uncomfortable.

  Once they were seated, Thomas smoothed a manicured hand down his tie. “Do you have news about the case, Agent Matthews?”

  “Grayson, please.” He explained the call he’d received from Eli. “Until we find evidence to confirm Gabe Rogers’s involvement in the kidnapping attempt, we’d like for Claire to remain under our protection.”

  Claire’s father frowned and set down his glass. “You think she’s still in danger? I thought all that was over, so I didn’t hire private security.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Grayson’s stomach knotted as he realized Claire hadn’t been protected the last couple of days. “Sir, all signs point to Rogers being behind the attempt, but there’s still no hard proof. It’s best we not take chances.”

  “Will you be providing the protection yourself?”

  Grayson nodded. “I’ll have backup for anytime I need to be elsewhere. Claire’s life has been upended for long enough, so we thought she might be more comfortable if she’s able to go home.”

  Thomas offered his thanks and Grayson sat forward. Maybe the senator could offer some insight into the investigation.

  “Have you ever received any hate mail?” Given the senator’s long political career, there had to be some.

  “Nothing serious in a while, but there’s a file my staff keeps for that sort of thing. I can have a copy made for you.”

  “That’ll be great. Is there anyone else you think we should look at in terms of potential suspects?”

  Thomas leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger to his lip. “Someone does come to mind. A man named Eric Sewell.”

  Grayson set his water on the small inlaid table next to him and took his phone from his pocket. “Eric Sewell?”

  “Yes. He was arrested after heckling me at one of my speeches.”

  Grayson paused his typing and looked up. “Arrested? Why?”

  “He threatened me.”

  “When was this?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “What was the threat?”

  “Something about bombing my local office. He’d worked at a clinic in Boston that was shut down during my administration, and lost his job.”

  “I’ll look into it.” Grayson finished inputting the info, then checked his watch. “When did you say you were expecting Claire?”

  “Within the hour.”

  Grayson nodded and stood up. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Although the threat was a long shot since it was a couple of years old, he’d call the information in and then phone the lab. Whoever had put
out the contract on Claire was also an accomplice in Jeremy’s murder, since he or she had hired the men who’d breached the safe house in another attempt to nab Claire.

  And Grayson would leave no stone unturned to be sure everyone involved was brought to justice.

  Chapter Forty

  Returning from the jail, Claire had just set her purse on the kitchen counter when her father called her up to his office. Although he should have been at his office on Capitol Hill, he’d been working from home part-time since Claire had been staying with them.

  He was seated on a tufted leather sofa watching his big-screen TV when she entered the spacious room. Taking a seat next to him, she turned her attention toward the screen.

  The female anchor was discussing the Parker family’s relationship with Gabe as a photo of Claire appeared on the screen behind her. A quick interview by phone with a friend of Gabe Rogers revealed that Gabe had been about to propose to Claire, and her photo was replaced onscreen by one of her father. As the reporter segued from the rumored engagement to speculation about potential implications for Senator Thomas Parker’s re-election campaign, Claire closed her eyes for a moment.

  I knew it was too good to last. All this time she’d been focused on doing her part to help her father’s image, and now look. Her involvement with Gabe had done all kinds of damage. How ironic was that?

  Her father clicked off the TV and turned to her. “How did your meeting go with Gabe?”

  Claire shrugged. “Okay, I guess. He acted as if nothing had happened, and swore he had nothing to do with the kidnapping attempt.”

  “I’m not surprised,” her father said, his expression fierce. “Con men are good at lying. To think we trusted that man with our money, with you . . .”

  Shame burned through her as she met her father’s eyes. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  Thomas shook his head. “None of this is your fault, Claire. Your mother and I were equally fooled. Thank goodness you weren’t actually engaged yet.”