Deadly Alliances

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Deadly Alliances Page 13

by Candle Sutton

In spite of careful planning, so much could go wrong tonight.

  Between the risks associated with leaving the hotel to bringing Branden into direct contact with Reilly, she had plenty about which to be concerned. However, the lingering suspicion that someone on their team was playing both sides weighed more heavily than anything else.

  She had to flush him out. It wouldn’t be easy since everyone else trusted him. But at this point, she could think of few things more dangerous than a traitor.

  Eleven

  Lana drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes straying from the door to the parking lot and back again.

  The windows of the newspaper office, the few she could see, were dark. Light illuminated the lobby, but the double glass doors didn’t reveal much of the interior.

  A shadow crossed into that light seconds before Branden stepped into view.

  He pushed through the doors and scanned the parking lot.

  Okay. No turning back now. She opened the door, stood, and waved him over.

  A smile flashed across his face as he strode toward her.

  He lowered himself into the car. “I gotta admit, I’m disappointed. I expected you to be driving some big van with black bulletproof windows. You know, something that screams federal agent.”

  “I think you watch too many movies. Besides, who said anything about the Feds?”

  “Come on. You’re not really going to try to sell me on that one, are you?”

  Holding back her answer, she pulled into traffic. How much Alex planned to reveal was unknown, but it was Alex’s call, not hers. For now, she was just the chauffeur. “How’s the newspaper doing in the digital age?”

  “Better than some, but you’re not getting off that easily.”

  The glance she shot his direction found him angled toward her. “What do you mean?”

  “What agency are you with? FBI? DEA? I know that place you were staying used to be a drug hotspot.”

  “What makes you think I work for any of them?”

  “Seriously? You pulled a gun on me!”

  “Hey, a girl can’t be too careful these days.”

  “I’ve had job interviews less intense than your questioning. It was practically an interrogation. While holding me at gunpoint, in case I forgot to mention that. Oh, and let’s not forget you were shot.”

  This was crazy. She should’ve asked Alex what she planned to tell him.

  Instead, she forced a light tone and dodged the question. Again. “You’ve changed a lot since I last saw you.”

  “Look, forget I’m a reporter, okay? I’m not going after a story, I’m trying to get reacquainted.”

  A sigh slid out. “I get that, but I can’t really talk about this right now. Maybe we can revisit it later?”

  Part of her hoped there wouldn’t be a later for this conversation.

  She didn’t wait for his response before changing the subject. “How are your folks?”

  “It’s just my dad now. Mom’s been gone for eight years. Breast cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The half-hearted shrug he managed was almost convincing. “But Dad’s good. Still as bossy as ever, but I doubt that’ll change.” A chuckle slid out. “Since I disappointed him with my career choice, he’s made it his mission in life to see that I do everything else right.”

  “Oh yeah?” Sliding a look his direction, she couldn’t help grinning at his chagrin. “And how’s that going?”

  “Well, he hasn’t disowned me yet, so I guess it could be worse.”

  That sounded like the man she remembered from her childhood. “Does he live near enough to meddle often?”

  “Portland. Near enough that I can still see him, but not close enough to give me a lot of grief.”

  “How long have you lived in Lincoln City?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow, I guess it’s been about five years or so.”

  “Small-town life doesn’t drive you crazy?”

  “Nah, I think I’ve always been a small-town kind of guy. And it’s nice being right by the ocean.”

  A grin twisted her lips. “A cold ocean. I can’t believe how windy it is here. Always.”

  “A bit of a change from Jacksonville, isn’t it? I take it you’re still there?”

  She hesitated. Safe or unsafe?

  “Or is that another question you can’t answer?”

  “Maybe later?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I think that’s your favorite word.”

  At least he didn’t sound angry. “Sorry. It’s beats lying.”

  “True enough. And I’ve seen firsthand that this thing is serious. How’s the arm?”

  “Okay.” The response slid from her mouth as if automatic.

  “Of course it is. It’s not like you were shot or anything.”

  She eased the car to a stop as the light in front of them changed to red. “Grazed, really. It burns a bit and the bandage is irritating, but it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “I don’t even want to know what that was.”

  The green arrow lit up and she turned left before making a sharp right into the restaurant’s parking lot.

  “The Wet Noodle. Good choice. Great pasta. Which I know Reilly likes.”

  “We all do.”

  “At least some things haven’t changed.”

  She turned off the engine and opened her door. “That one probably never will.”

  The restaurant’s heavy wood door swung toward them as they approached. Branden snagged the edge of the door, holding it wide for the man coming out with a couple of takeout boxes balanced on his hands.

  “Thanks.”

  She knew that voice. “Hi, Nate.”

  “Lana? Hey.” The smile she heard in his voice crinkled his brown eyes, but dimmed slightly as his gaze shifted from her to Branden and back again. “You’ll have to try the lasagna. Best in town, trust me.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement, but I have to admit, I’m really looking forward to a good Alfredo sauce.”

  Nate’s attention slid to Branden again, who at some point had released the door and taken a step closer to her side. Were they seriously sizing each other up? The tension sparking the air confirmed it.

  Men.

  “How rude of me.” She shook her head and offered a small laugh as though she’d just remembered her manners. “Nate, this is Branden, a friend from school. Branden, Nate’s a freelance photographer.”

  As she’d suspected, that detail snagged Branden’s attention. Although instead of diffusing the tension, it seemed to supercharge it.

  “Really? I work for the local paper.” Challenge lined Branden’s words. “Maybe I’ve seen your work.”

  “I doubt it.” Nate’s thin smile barely bordered polite. “My specialty is nature.”

  “I read a lot of magazines. Where all have you been published?”

  “Some calendars, outdoors magazines, a few home and garden issues.” Nate shifted the takeout boxes and looked at her. “I should get going before this cools too much. See you later?”

  The weight of Branden’s speculation shifted to her. She ignored it, offering Nate a smile instead. “I doubt it. I have some family things going on tonight.”

  “Okay, well, have fun.” He dodged them and started across the lot. “And I was serious about the lasagna.”

  Opening the door, Branden gestured for her to precede him inside. The door whooshed closed behind them.

  “I didn’t know you knew anyone else in town.”

  The suspicion lacing his tone made her want to laugh. “I’ve gone jogging on the beach a few times. He’s always out there taking pictures.”

  “And I suppose you held him at gunpoint, too?”

  He couldn’t let that go, could he? “Don’t be silly. I save the special treatment for old friends.”

  She led the way across the dining room and down a short hallway, stopping outside a closed door. She slid a glance down the hallwa
y. The restroom doors were both closed and while she could hear things clattering beyond the swinging doors leading into the kitchen, there wasn’t anyone in sight.

  She knocked three times fast, then two slow, followed by two fast, before pulling her phone from her pocket. It vibrated in her hand a few seconds later.

  That you?

  She punched in a quick reply to Alex’s text and pocketed her phone. The door clicked open and they slipped inside.

  As Alex closed the door behind them, she sidestepped next to Lana and lowered her voice. “No problems?”

  “We’re good.” At least she sure hoped so.

  Reilly slowly rose. “Who… Branden? Is that you?”

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, Branden nodded. “At least you recognized me. I practically had to consent to fingerprinting and a background check before she’d lower her weapon.”

  “I can’t believe it. Lana, where’d you find this guy?”

  It’d been a while since she’d witnessed a smile like that on Reilly’s face. All the preparation and worrying had been well worth it. “Honestly, he found us.”

  “Sometimes it pays to monitor the police scanners.” At Reilly’s lifted eyebrows, he added, “I work for the paper. The only thing that would’ve made this any better was if I’d been able to write a story about it.”

  “Speaking of which, we need to go over a few things.” Alex gestured toward the table. “Let’s have a seat.”

  Lana claimed the chair next to Reilly, leaving Branden the one at the end of the table.

  “Is this where you threaten to make me disappear if I talk?”

  Alex forced a stiff smile in response to Branden’s humor. “Close.”

  A server stepped into the room from the kitchen entrance. “Are you folks ready to order?”

  While others placed their orders, Lana quickly scanned the menu. So many options.

  In spite of Nate’s recommendation, she went with Alfredo.

  As the server left the room, Branden faced Alex. “You don’t have to worry about me. My friends are more important than my career. Besides, last night proves that this is serious stuff.”

  “Very. As far as everyone else is concerned, you haven’t seen us, you don’t know anything about what happened at that call last night, and you certainly don’t know who was involved, got it?”

  “Did you see this morning’s paper? If I had planned to report on last night, it would’ve been on the front page.”

  “Keep it that way. You can’t tell anyone. Not your editor, your family, your priest, heck, even your dog is off limits.”

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Lana would have laughed at the idea of Branden confiding his deepest secrets to a dog.

  “Silent as a corpse.” Branden winced. “I could’ve worded that a little better. But don’t worry. I get it. Trust me.”

  “You wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t.”

  “Sooo….” A slow grin spread across Branden’s face. “Does that mean I get to learn more about what’s going on here?”

  Alex shook her head. “Not a chance.”

  “Figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.” The casual tone said he’d received the expected answer.

  Silence lingered a few seconds before Reilly filled it. “So what’s with the new look? Running from the mafia?”

  “And my secret’s out.” Branden sobered. “Actually, it was a car accident. Messed me up to the point that plastic surgery wasn’t really optional.”

  The accident.

  Branden had mentioned it last night, but she’d had too much going on to get many details.

  Time to change that. “What happened?”

  Murmuring across the table evidenced that Alex and her team had moved on to other conversations, but she tuned them out to focus on Branden.

  “Guy in a moving truck fell asleep at the wheel and forced me down an embankment. I don’t remember much after that. The police said the doctors hadn’t expected me to even survive, much less make any kind of recovery.”

  “How long did that take?”

  “A long time.” Branden shifted slightly. “But by the grace of God, I recovered fully.”

  “The grace of God? Now there’s a phrase I never thought I’d hear from you.” She did nothing to mask her surprise.

  “Yeah, well dark times have a way of changing your perspective a little. And there were a lot of dark times in the three years after the accident.”

  Reilly nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “I, uh…” Branden cleared his throat. “I got hooked on painkillers. I managed to hide it pretty well for about two years, but Dad eventually found out. He convinced me to go to rehab.” A hint of a smile pinched his eyes as he added, “In his usual gentle way, of course.”

  Gentle. Right.

  Unless he’d changed considerably in the last fifteen years, Lana imagined that meant Branden’s stubbornness had been no match for his father’s.

  “But you’re good now?”

  Leave it to Reilly to voice the question she’d been thinking but had hesitated to ask.

  Branden nodded. “Seven years clean. I met Christ in rehab. Dad did, too.”

  The waiter arrived with their salads and the conversation stalled for a few minutes as food became the focus.

  Swallowing a bite, Branden turned to Reilly. “So what’ve you been up to?”

  “Just life. Work’s been crazy–”

  Lana placed a hand on his arm. Better not to bring up work than to have to duck a bunch of questions. Why hadn’t she warned him in advance?

  “I take it that’s on the list of forbidden topics?” Branden’s gaze locked intentionally on her hand.

  “I know it stinks. Hopefully it won’t be long before we can give you the full story.”

  “I’ll hold you to that one.” Directing his attention to Reilly, he asked, “I take it you never went to culinary school?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I doubt many chefs end up with a fully armed team protecting them.”

  Reilly quirked an eyebrow. “Because no chef could ever witness something they shouldn’t–”

  Clamping his lips together, he drew a few deep breaths through his nose.

  Poor guy.

  Lana kept her sympathy to herself, knowing it would only make things worse. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out he was reliving the shooting. Again.

  “Anyway.” The word croaked out and Reilly cleared his throat, forcing a smile that failed to remove the haunted look from his eyes. “Dreams change. I still like to cook, but decided that wasn’t the field for me.”

  “Big jump from chef to prosecutor.”

  What? Lana’s fingers twitched as she halted their movement toward her gun. Could he somehow be involved with Rosetti after all?

  “Breathe.” Branden focused an intense stare at her, almost as if he could read her thoughts. “I googled him. An article about him witnessing that murder was the first thing to pop up.”

  Of course Branden had done his research. Why would she have thought any differently?

  Now if she could just calm her stampeding heart, everything would be fine. Sort of. “I’m sorry, we can’t–”

  “–talk about it. I know.”

  The conversation meandered through a bunch of light topics – covering everything from Branden’s church to Reilly’s almost fiancée, Desiree.

  While the food was great and the conversation interesting, Lana’s energy waned. The stress of the last twenty-four hours and the long night with little sleep had finally caught up to her.

  She had only to meet Alex’s gaze to know she wasn’t the only one.

  Time to call it a night.

  Alex took control of the situation before Lana could. “It’s getting late. Branden, remember, not a word of this to anyone or you’ll find yourself locked up.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’d never do anything to put these guys in danger.”

&nb
sp; “See that it stays that way. Peters and Chow will drop you at your vehicle.”

  Branden looked at the two deputies rising from their chairs before turning to Lana. He opened his mouth, but snapped it closed a second later.

  A chuckle slid from Reilly. “Don’t look so worried. Chow’s a good driver.”

  Peters nodded. “He is. Too bad I’m driving.”

  “Oh.” Reilly couldn’t hide a grin. “In that case, I hope your life insurance is paid up.”

  Standing, Branden glanced between Lana and Reilly. “It was good to see you guys. Maybe we can do this again while you’re in town.”

  “Probably not this trip,” Lana interjected before Reilly could agree. “But now that I have your number, we can at least keep in touch.”

  Once the door closed behind Branden, Peters, and Chow, Alex assessed the group. “Peters is going to give me a call when they’ve had a chance to sweep the hotel. Once we get the all-clear, we’ll head out.”

  The waiter dropped off the check, exiting as unobtrusively as he’d entered. Lana scooped it up and reached for her purse. “I’ll settle up the bill so we’re ready when they call.”

  Alex followed her to the door and closed it behind her. The lock scraped into place.

  Something solid slammed into her back, forcing her forward several steps.

  Her hand flew to her gun, her fingers resting on the grip. Someone had been waiting for her!

  “I’m sorry.” A man’s voice came from behind her. “I guess that’s why I shouldn’t text and walk. You okay?”

  Whirling, she stared at the tall, dark-haired man behind her.

  Dimitrios? What was he doing here? Could he somehow be connected to the shooter?

  Maybe he was the shooter. Here to finish what he’d started last night.

  Behind him, a woman exited the ladies room, brushing by them with barely a glance.

  She exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

  He wasn’t lurking or trying to finish anything. Most likely, he’d come from the restroom. And now he stared at her like she was some kind of weirdo for not answering his question. Great.

  With movements as casual as possible, she relaxed her arms to her sides. “I’m fine, thanks. Just startled.”

  “Good. If I hurt someone while texting, I’d never live it down.”

 

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