by Shelly Bell
He took a step back from her, horror in his eyes. “I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing. If you think I’m capable of that, you don’t know me at all, do you?”
She shrugged. “I guess not. The man I thought I cared for wouldn’t have lied about his alibi to the police. He wouldn’t have brought a woman to his hotel room.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. For what it’s worth, I care about you, and I don’t regret a single minute we spent together. Maybe I do receive satisfaction when helping those I care about. But these last few days, you’ve helped me more than you’ll ever realize.”
She hoisted her duffle over her shoulder and started toward the door.
“I’d offer you a ride home, but somehow I doubt you’ll accept.” He went over to his dresser and scooped up a set of keys. “I have four cars in the garage. Take whichever one you want, and I’ll have Nick bring it back to me.”
She took the keys and nodded to him, turning and fleeing his room before she broke down.
She’d done something she hadn’t done in years. Spoke from emotion rather than logic. Even when she’d confronted Hannah and Tom, she hadn’t said anything she regretted. Jaxon hadn’t deserved those bitter words and horrible allegations.
She still didn’t believe he’d killed Alyssa. No, she wouldn’t care for him the way she did if he were a murderer.
Although she understood why he’d lied about his alibi, she didn’t think she could forgive him for it. Not when the truth had shattered the illusion that she was special to him.
She found her way to the garage and hit the button to open the garage door. The lights switched on and her jaw dropped.
He had four cars. A yellow Hummer, a black Explorer, a red Mustang, and a silver BMW.
A chill twisted around her neck and slid down her spine. Had Jaxon been behind the wheel of the BMW that ran her off the road? He’d known she was at the hospital. Could he have switched from his Explorer to the BMW and then waited for her to drive home?
She couldn’t think straight. She chose the Hummer and fit the key into the ignition. As she backed out of the garage, she caught sight of Jaxon’s figure silhouetted in the upstairs window. Would he come after her? Did he want her dead?
Everything was a mess. If this proved anything, it was that she needed to stay focused on her career and follow the path she’d been on before she’d met Jaxon. The path that had led her to Nick.
Her phone rang again, her Mozart ringtone indicating an unknown caller. A spasm wracked her stomach. “Hello?”
“Kate? It’s Logan.”
She exhaled. “Logan, it’s not a good time. Can I—?”
“My friend in California pulled some strings. We’ve located the computer that was used to hack your Facebook account and the origin of the e-mails sent under Jaxon’s name. They both came from the same computer. Miles Joseph. He sent the e-mails and hacked your account.”
Miles Joseph?
Stephanie had worked for him. Alyssa and he had both belonged to Benediction. He must have wanted to frame Jaxon for their murders.
But why had he called her and hacked her? To warn her off the case? It didn’t completely fit. She needed more information before going to Nick with it. Proof that Miles Joseph was responsible for the murders. And after all the hurtful accusations she’d thrown at Jaxon, she couldn’t call him for backup. It was better if she investigated on her own.
Five minutes in Mr. Joseph’s office was all she’d need. It was only 5:30 in the morning, which meant she had at least an hour until anyone would arrive. Plenty of time to find whatever she needed to prove Miles Joseph had something to do with Stephanie and Alyssa’s deaths.
“I’ve got to go,” she said calmly. “Thank you for getting back to me.”
“What are you going to do? Kate, don’t go after him yourself. He’s obviously dangerous. Let the police handle this.”
“Bye, Logan.” She disconnected and made a hard right toward the highway.
She drove on autopilot, completely relaxed. She wasn’t sure if it was a result of her confrontation with Jaxon or the two pills she’d taken. What did it matter?
One way or another, her involvement in the case would end today. Either she’d find the evidence that Miles Joseph was responsible for Alyssa’s death or the police would arrest Jaxon, and then she’d have to remove herself from his legal team.
After parking in the building’s garage, she strolled inside and through the lobby, signing in with the night guard before boarding the elevator that would take her to the firm. As an intern, she had a key since she often arrived earlier and stayed later than the partners.
She unlocked the door to the firm, not bothering to turn on the lights as she made her way toward Joseph’s corner office. She didn’t have a key to his door, but she’d wager his secretary kept a copy in her desk. Kate pulled open the drawer and moved the computer mouse to awaken the computer screen, using its light to locate the key. Bingo. Right in front.
She scooped it up, unlocked the door, and stepped inside the office. After closing the door, she flipped on the lights. Where to look first?
Well, if she were hiding evidence, she’d keep it in a locked drawer or cabinet. Otherwise someone could stumble onto it by accident.
She went to his desk and, chewing on her lip, plopped herself down in his oversized, cushiony chair. She pulled on the handles of his drawers until she came to a locked one. Where would he hide the key? She searched his junk drawers, finding plenty of office supplies and even a couple of condom packets but no keys. Maybe he’d taped them to the bottom of a drawer? After checking each drawer, she still hadn’t found it.
Kate refused to be defeated by a simple lock. She sat back in the chair and looked at the framed degrees on the walls.
She slipped her hand behind the frame of his Juris Doctor certificate and came across something bumpy. Then she tore it away from the backing, and in her hand was a small key.
Excitement shot through her veins. She hurried to the desk and crouched in front of it, fitting the key into the lock. Holding her breath, she slid open the drawer.
Her gaze landed on the bloodstained Buck 110 Folding Hunter Knife.
“You are a difficult girl to kill, Ms. Martin.”
She snapped her head up.
And her stomach dropped.
Mr. Joseph stood right inside the office door, apparently a bit miffed that she refused to go down without a fight. He spoke in such a cavalier manner that he could’ve been talking about the weather. As if he’d arrived at his office to start the day, he wore his usual business attire.
He didn’t look like a murderer.
He looked like a grandfather.
Still crouching behind his desk, she kept her gaze on him while slowly unzipping her purse, careful not to make noise. “Yes, I’ve always thought that was one of my better qualities.”
He closed the door behind him, blocking her exit. “You had to follow the path of crumbs, didn’t you? Had to prove to Nicholas how invaluable you are. Didn’t your mother ever tell you the story of Hansel and Gretel?”
She wrapped her hand around cold steel. “No, she was too busy drinking. Why don’t you let me call her and she can tell it to me now?”
He sneered. “You get sarcastic when you’re nervous.”
“Yeah, Mr. Trenton warned me about that. I guess I’ll get a ‘needs to improve’ on my report card.” Inch by inch, she straightened her legs to stand, holding the gun out of his line of sight. “I promise if you let me live, I’ll work on it.”
He smiled at her and moved closer, almost as if he were about to embrace her. “Such a sense of humor. It’s a shame I have to kill you. But you’ve left me no choice. You know too much. I’ve been following you ever since Trenton assigned you to the Deveroux case, waiting to see if my instincts about you and him were correct. Your visit to Martha Webber confirmed my suspicions. Alyssa’s death led you to Stephanie.” His face crumpled. “It was a terrible accide
nt, one I’ve lived to regret.”
Her hands shook uncontrollably as she raised the gun and pointed it at him. “Yeah, I don’t want to end up another one of your accidents.”
Mr. Joseph sighed as if she were inconveniencing him. “How much?”
“How much what?”
He spread his hands out in front of him and flipped his palms up in a plea. “How much do you want to stay quiet? I’ll double whatever Trenton is paying you. You’re obviously poor or you wouldn’t live in that dump of an apartment. Whatever you want, I have the means to give it to you. A million dollars? Done. A fast track to a senior partnership? A clerkship for a Michigan Supreme Court judge?” He clapped his manicured hands together, the sound making her jump. “Just name your price and I can make all your dreams come true, so long as we keep this between us.”
He thought he could buy her silence? What kind of person would keep the knowledge of a murder to herself? “How could I trust that you wouldn’t kill me anyway? You’ve already tried twice. If I’d been home a few minutes earlier, you would’ve stabbed me instead of Hannah.”
Anger rippled across his face. “I made a mistake. I should’ve worked out an arrangement like I had before, but I wasn’t sure of your intentions.” He inched closer. “You don’t want to shoot me. You’re a good girl.” His voice was soothing. Quiet. As if he were speaking to a wild animal. “Now put the gun down, Kate.”
Didn’t he understand? With this gun in her hands, she wasn’t the prey.
She was the hunter.
She kept her fingers positioned on the barrel. “No. It’s over. I can’t stay quiet. I won’t let you get away with it. I’ve found the knife you used to kill Alyssa.”
He reared back, his eyes widening. Then he shook his head. “You silly girl. You don’t know what you’ve found.” He charged toward her.
She tried to move her finger to the trigger, but she froze like a deer staring death in the face.
Froze like her father after taking his last breath.
She didn’t want to kill again.
The gun was ripped from her hands.
Joseph had her gun. Began to raise it.
She was no longer the hunter.
She was the hunted.
A hero’s worried face flashed in front of her.
The gunshot thundered in her ears.
And everything went black.
Don’t miss the final thrilling installment of
WHITE COLLARED
By Shelly Bell
PART FOUR: PASSION
coming June 24 from Avon Red Impulse!
About the Author
SHELLY BELL writes sensual romance and erotic thrillers with high emotional stakes for her alpha heroes and kiss-ass heroines. She began writing upon the insistence of her husband, who dragged her to the store and bought her a laptop. When she’s not practicing corporate law, taking care of her family, or writing, you’ll find her reading the latest smutty romance.
Shelly is a member of Romance Writers of America and International Thriller Writers.
Visit her website at ShellyBellBooks.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
By Shelly Bell
White Collared series
Part One: Mercy
Part Two: Greed
Part Three: Revenge
Part Four: Passion
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WHITE COLLARED PART THREE: REVENGE. Copyright © 2014 by Shelly Bell. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition JUNE 2014 ISBN: 9780062336828
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062336835
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