Pursuit of the Truth

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Pursuit of the Truth Page 8

by K. D. Richards


  They fell quiet once more as they finished their dinner.

  This time, Nadia broke the silence. “I love your view.”

  Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see the lights of New Jersey across the Hudson River.

  Ryan shifted his seat, putting his chair closer to Nadia at the same time. “I let my sister-in-law do most of the house hunting, sifting through all the condos on the market and all those viewings. I just chose from their top three, and the view out that window is what won me over.”

  “Wow. That’s...efficient.”

  Ryan chuckled. “My needs are minimal. A large wall for the flat screen, a decent kitchen and a nice big tub are all it takes to make me happy.”

  Her stomach clenched as an image of Ryan in a tub lodged itself in her head. She wouldn’t have pegged him as someone who’d prefer soaking over showering, but now that he’d mentioned it, she couldn’t stop imagining him in the bath.

  “It reminds me of this cabin in Maine my parents used to drag my brothers and me to every August,” Ryan said, pulling out of her fantasies.

  “You might be the only person to look out a New York City window and see Maine.”

  “It’s the water and the lights. The cabin was on a hill next to this huge lake. It overlooked the town below, and at night I loved to sit out on the deck. I used to make up stories about what the people in all the houses below ours were doing. Always something cooler than daydreaming on the front porch.”

  “It sounds wonderful. My family used to go down South to my aunt’s house in Atlanta for our family vacations. After my mom died, we stopped going. Kind of lost touch with that side of the family.”

  Aunt Celia had passed away when Nadia was a teenager, and now she had cousins she wouldn’t even recognize. Since their father’s passing, it had been her and Nate against the world. And now she was on her own.

  She shook off the gloominess threatening to engulf her. She had Uncle Erik. They didn’t see eye to eye on many things, but he was always there for her.

  Nadia stole a glance at Ryan. When she’d needed him, he’d been there for her.

  “You didn’t take any vacations after your mother died?” Ryan asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

  Nadia shrugged, swallowing the last of her dinner. “Dad worked a lot building the business, and once Nate and I were old enough, we also worked at the hotel. My father believed we should have a thorough understanding of the business we’d inherit someday, so I’ve pretty much worked every position we have at Shelton Hotels.”

  Ryan cocked his head to the side. “I’m trying to imagine you in a maid’s outfit.”

  Heat flooded every inch of her body.

  Ryan’s face colored. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, rising with his plate.

  “It’s fine.” It was more than fine. The image stirred a desire in her that threatened to overwhelm her. And the knowledge that Ryan was attracted to her sent a surge of feminine confidence through her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  “No, it’s not. It was unprofessional.” His plate clattered into the sink.

  She followed him, carrying her plate. “It’s not like I’m paying you,” she said, attempting to lighten the moment.

  When it didn’t work, she moved on to something that bothered her.

  “I know you said not to worry about it, but I want you to bill me for the personal security. I might need to work out a payment schedule, though.” Nadia laughed, only half-kidding.

  “Stop.” Ryan faced her, his tone still sharp. “I told you not to worry about it, and I meant it.”

  She frowned, her annoyance growing. If he thought she would lose her head over one flirty comment, he could just get over himself. “Why? I know Shelton has been a client for years, but you barely know me. Why would you help me for free?”

  “Why? Because every time I see you, it gets harder and harder to resist doing this.”

  He stepped forward, closing the space between them. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her tightly to his chest. The scent of his spicy cologne filled her senses. He dropped his lips to hers, and she gasped at the warmth of his mouth on hers.

  She relaxed into the kiss, and he pulled her closer, his mouth moving against hers in a slow, seductive dance. His tongue stroked hers, sending heat spiraling through her body. She moaned and slid her hands over the coarse hair on his chest and around his neck, drawing their bodies closer, fixing her hips to his.

  Ryan groaned deep in his chest and lifted her, sitting her on the countertop and stepping between her legs.

  His cell phone vibrated, breaking the spell they’d been under.

  He jerked away as if the touch of her lips had scalded him. His eyes were a storm of emotion as they held each other’s gaze through two more rings before he tore away to look at his phone.

  “I’ve got to take this.” He answered the call, leaving the kitchen without looking back at her.

  Nadia walked hurriedly to her bedroom. Hot tears stung her eyes. Ryan clearly thought their kiss was a mistake. She shouldn’t let it bother her. They had a business relationship and nothing more. Adding a personal relationship to the mix right now was beyond unwise.

  So why did she feel like she’d lost something she just realized she wanted?

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan stood in the kitchen at five fifteen the next morning. His cell jiggled on the countertop, and he looked down to see Shawn’s face staring up at him from the phone’s screen.

  He pressed the button to start brewing coffee before connecting the call. “What’s up?”

  “Dead guy’s name is Andrei Ledebev,” Shawn began without preamble. “He and his brother, Taras, are new to the New York scene, but they’re well-known in other illegal circles. They’ve been working with Brian Leroy.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, but this is worse. Leroy appears to be working with Lincoln Smith.”

  The real mob families looked nothing like the one-note portrayals given in the movies with shakedowns at the neighborhood mom-and-pop stores. In reality, organized crime had stepped into the twenty-first century with everyone else. Today’s gangsters had college degrees, wore three-thousand-dollar suits to the office and were more diverse and gender-balanced than the average state legislature. Greed knew no ethnicity, and mobsters like Lincoln Smith would work with anyone who could make them money.

  New York organized-crime families, in particular, had their hands in a wide variety of cookie jars, many of them quite legal, at least before the mobsters got their hands on them. Leroy was ostensibly a well-known small-business investor, but in reality, he was simply a well-educated and sophisticated loan shark. Aligning himself with Smith was a step up on the metaphorical crime ladder from the crew of misfits Leroy had run with in his youth.

  “That is not good, but it is a link to Nate,” Ryan said, putting four pieces of toast in the toaster.

  “So Leroy or Smith could be behind the attacks on Nadia, but why?” Shawn asked.

  “If we can figure out the relationship between Nate and Leroy we might answer that question. Has Eugene been able to get anything from the cameras at Shelton?”

  He’d asked Eugene Paul, head of West’s technology and communications department, to look at the security-camera footage from the hallway of the room where the fire had been started. He’d viewed the security tape himself, but whoever set the fire had kept his head down and face obscured. It hadn’t helped that the cameras weren’t the top of the range that West Security offered its customers. That was a problem Ryan had promptly fixed, ordering all the cameras in each of the three Shelton properties be upgraded and the bill directed to him. The IOUs he’d owe his brothers were adding up quickly, but as long as Nadia was safe, he’d happily pay them.

  “He’s working on it, but I wouldn’t
get my hopes up,” Shawn responded.

  “Tell him to keep at it and take a look at all the other footage of the hotel around the same time.”

  “Do you know how much time that could take?”

  “I know, I know, but have Eugene do it, anyway. Something about that fire isn’t right.” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck.

  “What do you mean, isn’t right?”

  “If I knew, I’d tell you. Just have Eugene do it as soon as he can.” He looked over as Nadia entered the kitchen. “I gotta go.”

  Her forest green top grazed the top of the black jeans that hugged her hips. The outfit wasn’t overtly sexy. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the way her hips swayed as she crossed the kitchen toward him, the steady rhythm of her low-heeled boots contrasting with the erratic beat of his heart.

  She stopped at the edge of the counter, several arm lengths away from him. Her expression was blandly polite, revealing nothing of what she thought about the kiss they’d shared the night before.

  “I made toast for the road. You can put your coffee in this and take it with us.” He took a thermos from an upper cabinet and handed it to Nadia.

  “Thanks.” Nadia took the thermos and turned away from him.

  He waited until she’d filled it and buttered her slices of toast. “You ready?”

  “Sure.” She turned for the front door without a backward glance.

  A sigh escaped his lips. This was exactly why he’d sworn he wouldn’t cross the professional line with Nadia. Then he’d not only crossed it, he’d leaped over it with abandon. If this road trip was uncomfortable, he had only himself to blame. Still, better that he endure an uncomfortable road trip than another broken heart.

  Nadia’s phone rang before she made it to the door. She glanced at the screen and groaned.

  “What is it?” Ryan said.

  “Uncle Erik. I left him a message telling him that we’re going to Rhode Island.” She silenced the phone and slipped it in her coat pocket. “I don’t have to speak to him to know what he’ll say. Let’s go.”

  Dawn bloomed as they drove out of the city in silence. His GPS put the trip at three and a half hours. Nadia spent the first hour and a half studiously looking out of the passenger window.

  He pulled into a rest area, more because he needed a break from the tension in the car than anything else.

  “I’m going to grab a coffee and maybe a breakfast sandwich. Do you need anything?”

  She studied the cars out the passenger window as if there’d be a quiz later. “No. I’ll just wait here for you.”

  He pushed his door open, then slammed it shut again causing Nadia to start and face him for the first time since they’d gotten into the car. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “It’s fine.” Nadia twisted, so she looked out of the window once again.

  He started to reach across the console for her hand, then thought better of the move. He wanted to repair the damage he’d done, not send mixed signals. “Nadia, please look at me.”

  She didn’t react at all for several long moments. Finally, she faced him. “I get it. You made a mistake, and it won’t happen again. You don’t have to worry about me complaining to your father or suing or whatever.”

  His stomach clenched at the pain he saw in her eyes. “I’m not worried about you suing, and I don’t think kissing you was a mistake. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for months.”

  Her expression read of disbelief, and he didn’t blame her for her suspicion.

  “It was unprofessional to have kissed you. Now is not a good time for me to be distracted. Not when all my focus needs to be on keeping you safe.”

  The suspicion in her eyes turned to anger. “Well, I’m sorry I’m such a huge distraction.” Nadia reached for the car door handle.

  This time he did take her wrist, stopping her before she could exit from the car.

  “That’s not what I meant.” He released her wrist and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Look, I’m attracted to you. I think you’re attracted to me too, even though you look like you want to rip my head off. Right now you need someone focused on protecting you and figuring out who is behind all the things that have been happening to you lately. I can’t be that person if I’m wondering when I’ll get to kiss you again.”

  Nadia held his gaze for several long moments before her shoulders straightened and drew back. “You’re right. We should keep things professional. Friends?”

  She extended her hand.

  Friends was the last thing he wanted to be, but he took her hand. Ignoring the electricity jolting through him at her touch, he said, “Friends.”

  They strode into the rest stop together. Nadia allowed him to pay for her breakfast, which he took as a good sign. They ate quickly and were back on the road to Rhode Island forty minutes after they’d stopped.

  They hadn’t made it far from the rest stop when his GPS alerted to a traffic accident backing up the interstate up ahead. He followed the mechanical voice directing him onto a two-lane state road. It would add a bit of time to their trip, but the road was lightly traveled.

  “So West identified the dead man in Nate’s apartment.” Ryan shot a glance at her across the car. He hoped opening up about the state of the investigation would help to put them back on a sound footing.

  “I overheard you on the phone this morning.” She sipped the orange juice that had come with her breakfast sandwich.

  “Have you ever heard the names Taras or Andrei Ledebev?”

  Creases formed on her forehead. She considered his question for nearly half a minute before answering. “I don’t think so. Is one of them the dead guy?”

  “Andrei. But both worked for Brian Leroy.”

  Nadia scowled. “Leroy’s construction company bid on one of our renovation projects a couple of years back. But Leroy wouldn’t do all this just because we didn’t use his company.”

  “No, but there’s evidence that Nate and Leroy had a relationship that went beyond business. At least one event that they were both in attendance at and photographed together.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  They’d just gotten back on speaking terms. He didn’t want to rock their precarious boat, so he let the subject drop.

  In the rearview mirror, he watched as a black pickup truck behind them accelerated. The road had narrowed into one lane in each direction, but they were the only two cars present at the moment.

  The pickup rode their bumper. Despite the dangerous proximity, Ryan wasn’t able to get a good look at the driver through the dark tint on the windshield.

  Ryan sped up.

  The SUV followed suit.

  “Someone is tailgating us.” He glanced at Nadia. “Make sure your seat belt is on and tight.”

  Nadia twisted so she could see the car behind them. “What is he doing?”

  “Can you see who’s in the car?” He pushed the accelerator to the floor, but the truck picked up speed along with them.

  “No. The window is too dark.”

  The SUV rammed the back of their vehicle. Nadia jerked forward as the car slid, fishtailing, but Ryan kept them on the road. He guided the car out of the skid and revved the engine, sending them flying forward.

  The SUV sped up, hitting them again and sending Nadia crashing into the dashboard.

  “Nadia! Are you okay?”

  She groaned. He risked a glance at her. Blood trickled from a gash on her forehead.

  “I think so,” she said.

  The SUV hit them again, sending them into a tailspin.

  Ryan fought to regain control of the car, but the tires slipped off the road and down an embankment.

  Brush flew by as he pumped the brakes trying to slow the car. Several large oaks at the foot of the embankment loomed.
He wrenched the wheel to the right moments before the sound of crumpling metal filled the air.

  “Ryan!”

  He swallowed a curse and reached across his torso, touching his hand to the site of the pain. A shard of glass from the shattered window left a deep gash above his hip. His fingertips were bloody when he pulled them away.

  “I’m okay. How about you?”

  “A bump on the head, but nothing to worry about.” Nadia turned in her seat. “The back windshield is shattered. I don’t see anyone.”

  “That doesn’t mean they aren’t there. We need to get out of this car.” He reached for the seat belt release and groaned. He spent the next several moments concentrating on breathing through the searing pain in his side.

  “You shouldn’t move.” Nadia pulled her phone from her purse at her feet and dialed 9-1-1.

  She gave the operator their location and relayed a description of the car that had driven them off the road.

  He fought through the pain and reached into the glove compartment, taking his gun from inside. They may not be able to get out of the car, but he would not let them be slaughtered like sitting ducks either. He rested the gun on his thigh, within arm’s reach, as they waited for help to arrive.

  The sound of sirens swelled nearly ten minutes after they’d landed in the ditch.

  “Put this back in the glove box.” He held the gun butt-first out to Nadia.

  She recoiled as if the gun would bite. “I don’t like guns.”

  He shot her a smile, twisted with amusement. “I’m not asking you to shoot it. Just put it back. This will go a lot smoother if it’s locked away when the cops arrive.”

  The cops might still have questions for him, but since he had a license to carry, he doubted they’d give him trouble.

  On the way down, in a car that refused to stop, it had seemed as if they were falling a hundred feet down a steep incline. Now, Ryan could see that they’d only slid about ten yards from the road, down a slight slope. He ignored the pain in his side and gave a statement to the deputy who followed them up the incline.

 

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