Sedona Suspect

by Lisa Kessler

  “He’s out back.” I pointed at the French doors.

  Sloan looked at Cole. “Can you help me with the body? For this plan to work, we can’t have anyone find it.”

  Cole got up. “We can take him up to the pyre. Vance already has it lit.”

  I went over to Naomi. “I’m exhausted. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get some sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow. Hopefully Asher will be home by then.”

  She gave me a gentle hug, careful of my stitches. “Thanks for all your help tonight, Dex.”

  We clasped forearms, and I headed for my truck. When I got inside, I stared at the text. Why tomorrow night? It was after midnight now, and the address was in Phoenix. Maybe she just needed some rest?

  I sent back a quick message.

  Any chance I can see you tonight?

  A minute later another text came through.

  I’m sleeping.

  I chuckled and dropped my phone on the seat beside me. At least I knew I’d be seeing her again, that she hadn’t changed her identity and vanished. I drove home, mentally running through all the things I’d have to get done tomorrow before I could drive to Phoenix to meet her.

  My shoulder throbbed and I was sore all over, but that didn’t slow my brain down. In the morning I needed to answer some e-mails and make some calls to clients. Jobs were going to be delayed without Deacon at my side. Gage was willing to work longer hours if I needed him, but he and his little boys had just moved in with his mate. I hated to pull him away from his family. I might not have any choice for a few weeks, though.

  But it wasn’t the work that was weighing on me. It was the admission, out loud, that my brother was gone. He wasn’t on vacation. He was dead. I pinched the bridge of my nose, struggling to box up the emotions again. They were too big.

  The drive home was a blur. I parked my truck in the circular driveway and went inside. I headed for the bathroom and carefully stripped off my shirt. Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at the bandage on my chest. Cole said the blade had barely missed my heart. I could have died, too. But I hadn’t. Who decided that? Was life just a series of random events? I’d taken so much for granted.

  Even though our world was filled with danger, and even though I had been there the day Cole had lost his twin brother to a bullet, it still hadn’t felt real to me. It hadn’t remotely occurred to me that we might blow out that wall at the jail and Deacon would be crushed under it. I’d been so fucking careless.

  Guilt swirled in my gut as I took off my pants and got in the shower. I struggled to escape the pain and I turned on the water. When the spray exploded from the showerheads, all I could think about was Natasha. No woman had ever turned me on like that before. She reminded me that I was alive, that living was a gift.

  She was a gift. My mate.

  Tonight hadn’t gone according to plan, but we’d survived. And although I’d dreaded that she disappeared, she had kept her word to me.

  Oh fuck. Was she telling me goodbye tomorrow?

  No. I couldn’t lose her, too.

  I put my head under the water, closing my eyes as the warm jets massaged my sore body, and a plan gradually started to form. I’d show her how much she meant to me. Her perfect date included flowers and Pride and Prejudice. I could make that happen.

  By the time I got out of the shower and carefully dried off, I had everything planned out in my head. I couldn’t wait to see her again. My head hit the pillow and I stared at the clock doing math to figure out how many hours before I could hold her in my arms again. So much for sleeping.

  This was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER 19

  Natasha

  I woke up early and did my best to spruce myself up without any makeup or a new change of clothes. At least I hadn’t gotten any blood on me last night. I’d found three hundred dollars in cash in the judge’s wallet, enough to pay for the first night of this room at the Holiday Inn plus the one-hundred-fifty dollar security deposit since I didn’t have a credit card.

  Once I emptied out my safe-deposit box, I could take care of tonight’s room charge.

  Last night I could’ve gotten a ride back to the ranch with Jett after we cleaned up the storage unit, but it would’ve been too tempting to contact Dex. This was my chance to stand on my own two feet and figure out who I wanted to be. I had opted for a hotel room.

  After texting with Vance about our plan to keep anyone from discovering the judge was dead, I turned my attention to my safe-deposit box. The trick would be getting into it without my ID. Dex thought I should forget the safe-deposit box for now, but that would mean I’d need to depend on him and his money, and I was tired of being dependent. The key was in my pocket, and if the bank had my scanned ID on file, they could compare my face to the one on their screen. It would all hinge on the teller. I’d have to avoid the manager. They were more likely to be by the book.

  I studied my face in the mirror, psyching myself up. If I couldn’t get my money, it’d be too easy to surrender to the connection with Dex. Not that it was bad. We made a good team, and I hadn’t believed I’d ever have that in my life. But when I’d seen him pull that dagger out of his chest, my heart had stopped for a second. That’s when I realized these feelings could be…more.

  And I wanted to be more for him first. I’d never lived on my own or made my own decisions…ever.

  So, starting today, I was going to make the rules.

  I grabbed the stolen wallet and stuffed it in my pocket. If housekeeping came by, I didn’t want them to see it. We needed people to believe the judge was still alive for our plan to work.

  I braided my hair and left the room, hailed a cab, and still had the twenty-dollar bill from Beverly in my pocket when I pulled open the glass door of the Desert Savings bank. A staff member looked up from the new-accounts desk and welcomed me. I scanned the branch. Both tellers were helping customers, the manager was on the phone inside a glass-walled office, and the home loan officer was engrossed in something on her computer.

  New accounts it was. I walked over to the woman and withdrew my key, doing my best pour some desperation into my voice.

  “I hope you can help me.” I brandished my safe-deposit box key. “My wallet was stolen so I don’t have my ID or my ATM card, but I need to get into my safe-deposit box. I have the key.”

  Her brows knit together, and her lips curved into an empathetic smile. “I’m so sorry. We can’t open the boxes without proper ID.”

  I mustered some tears. “Can’t you look me up on the computer? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I live in Flagstaff, and I only have the twenty-dollar bill that I had in my pocket. I don’t have another way to get home.” She looked torn. I was close. One more push. “Maybe you could talk to your manager?”

  I held my breath. It was a risky move, but I was betting that by being willing to bring a manager into it, she would trust that I wasn’t lying and hadn’t stolen the key. Plus, the manager was on a call so I doubted she’d interrupt her.

  She sighed. “Have a seat. Maybe we have your ID on file.” The plaque on her desk read Amy King.

  “Thanks, Amy. You’re a lifesaver.” I plucked a Kleenex from the box on her desk and dabbed my eyes.

  “Can I get your name?”

  “Natasha Sokolov.” I spelled my last name, and she narrowed her eyes, studying her screen.

  Her face brightened. “Here you are.” She double-clicked her mouse and looked my face. “Can you verify your home address?”

  I did, and she smiled. “Let me go grab the box key. I’ll be right back.”

  She returned with a key ring and waved me over to a locked door. I waited while she unlocked it, and then we stepped into the vault-like room. We each inserted our key and turned. The drawer pulled out, and she laid the container on the table. “Just let me know when you’re finished.”

  “Thanks, Amy.”

  She left me alone, and I opened the metal container. A huge weight lifted off my shoulders when I picked up
the money, passport, and driver’s license. I wouldn’t be going back to the satellite facility. Once General Sloan wiped my name from the records, I could wire my savings from my offshore bank accounts, and then I would have real options.

  Like maybe finding a place to live in Sedona.

  I stuffed my money and documents in the Holiday Inn laundry bag and waved Amy over. We used our keys to lock the box again, and I smiled. “Thanks again, Amy.”

  She shook my hand. “I’m glad I could help. We appreciate your business.”

  I left the bank and walked across the street to Marshalls. I wasn’t a big clothing shopper, but I’d invited Dex to my room tonight, and I wanted to look sexy. In the short time we’d been together, he’d seen me in a business suit, prison coveralls, thrift store threads, and borrowed sweatpants. Tonight, I was going to seduce a werewolf.

  And then I was going to keep my word and say goodbye. I would do my best to make him understand it wouldn’t be forever. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him, but I wasn’t ready for a relationship, not the kind he deserved anyway. He deserved so much better than a hired gun.

  Never in a million years did I imagine I might fall for a wolf, but I’d also never met one like Dex.

  I thumbed through the lingerie. This would be my first time seducing a man simply because I wanted to. For once, it wouldn’t be to scratch an itch or extract information or to set him up. Tonight would be because I genuinely ached for this man. Just thinking about our time in the shower had heat pooling low in my belly. I pushed more hangers aside. No lace, no leather, no peekaboo slits. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I figured I’d recognize it when I found it.

  Two hangers later, there it was—a short silk nightgown. It was a dark emerald green like my eyes with tiny spaghetti straps. I imagined him sliding them off my shoulders, his teeth grazing my shoulder as he cupped the weight of my breast in his hand.

  I sucked in a breath and took it off the rack. If I didn’t stop fantasizing about him, I was going to embarrass myself in the store. I also found a pair of jeans, a black tank top and a new duffel bag. Next, I bought a pack of underwear, socks, and a pair of black tennis shoes. After I paid, I grabbed a deli sandwich and headed back to the Holiday Inn. It was only noon, but the thermometer was already flirting with one-hundred degrees. I stopped at the front desk and extended my stay for another night, then headed for the elevator.

  I stepped inside, and as I pressed the button for the third floor, two men came up to the desk with a flier. My sensitive ears caught the lowered voices, “We’re looking for an escaped prisoner, Natasha Sokolov. Have you seen her?”

  The elevator doors closed and I let out a relieved breath. I’d paid cash and registered under Natasha Bright, the name on my new passport. But the desk staff might recognize the photo. I didn’t have my gun with me, but I did still have the Taser. If they came to my door, I could defend myself.

  But I hoped they wouldn’t.

  Not because I doubted my abilities—I would have no trouble taking out two human police detectives, even without my gun. It was more that I wanted a chance to learn some new skills, to believe there might be more to me than my abilities as an assassin. I dropped my bags on the chair by the tiny desk and sat on the bed. I’d have to watch television for a little while to see if anyone paid me a visit. Once I was in the clear, I’d grab a shower.

  I took out my sandwich and checked my phone. There was a text from Vance.

  Got into the judge’s e-mail. Sent a notice to the court that he’d been given a dire medical diagnosis and would be stepping down immediately to seek treatment. Just wanted to keep you in the loop.

  I blinked. Keeping me in the loop was…new. At Nero, all our orders had come down from Antonio Severino. We had lived on a need-to-know basis. There had been no team, only the leader and your mission, which they expected you to complete on your own. If you fucked up, there would be no backup coming to help you.

  Vance seemed to have adjusted to pack life. Maybe I could, too.

  I was getting ahead of myself. I sent a text back.

  Maybe you can tell them his niece, Becca, will be coming in to clean out his office. We should sweep it to be sure there’s no evidence hidden there anyway.

  Another message popped up.

  Good idea. Naomi should be back with Asher within the hour. Judge Jones just dropped the charges against him.

  I took a deep breath. Things were coming together. I just needed to get off the police radar. I sent a text back.

  Glad Asher’s coming home.

  With no sign of the police pounding on my door, I finished my lunch, snagged the nightgown, and headed for the shower. Seven o’clock couldn’t get here soon enough.

  CHAPTER 20

  Dex

  I stopped and filled the truck’s gas tank. I’d been listening to Pride and Prejudice on the drive, and with every new chapter, I wondered which parts were her favorite. Darcy continued to annoy me, but I caught myself chuckling at some of the dialogue exchanges, and a few times, I even had to fight to keep from shouting at Darcy to kiss Elizabeth. Natasha had said she enjoyed the way Jane Austen toyed with misleading first impressions; like the smooth, rich guy who seemed to be a catch to some of the characters but, under all the money, was a lying blowhard.

  I’d caught glimpses of Natasha underneath the hardened shell of the assassin she’d been molded into. She had stayed by my side through the hardest, most painful night of my life. I’d fallen asleep on her lap, and although she didn’t know how rare that was for me, she hadn’t snuck out.

  When I exited the freeway, I pulled into a grocery store and jogged inside. Their floral department didn’t have a great selection, but my apprehension must’ve been showing because an employee came over with a welcoming smile. “Can I help you find something?”

  I chuckled. “I’m looking for a dozen red roses.”

  Her eyes widened. “You might be in luck. I think we have some in the back. Give me just a minute.”

  She took off, and I scanned the knickknack gifts on the shelves. All the typical hearts and puppies with “I love you” messages abounded, along with “Get well” and “Congratulations” stuffed bears. Then I noticed a small plaque on a stand and read the words painted on it.

  Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure. —Jane Austen

  I reread it, thinking of my brother. Could I give up the guilt over persuading him to help me blow the wall of the jail? Could I instead remember all the laughs we’d shared over the years? The times we’d met up for beers or watched movies together?

  I picked up the small wooden plaque, reading it a third time and thinking about Natasha’s past with Nero. Could she put all that behind her and start again?

  Squeaking shoes approached. “I went ahead and wrapped them into a bouquet. I hope that’s all right.” The woman held out the flowers with a grin. Her gaze dropped to the gift in my hand. “Would you like that, too?”

  “Yeah,” I heard myself say as I took the flowers. “Thank you.”

  I paid for everything and went back to my truck in a daze. I was forty fucking years old, and this was the first time I’d bought a woman a gift for no other reason than I thought it might make her smile, and now I couldn’t stop second-guessing my decision. Would she think this was stupid or cheesy? I’d cheated on the flowers by asking her about her dream date, but this little twelve-dollar plaque was all me. She didn’t need it, and right now, she didn’t even have a place. Hell, ever since I met her, she’d been trying to get out of Arizona. What was she going to do with a little five-by-seven painted plaque while she was on the run from the police?

  Okay, I had to stop talking myself in circles. This kind of overthinking was usually reserved for the moment I tried to fall asleep. I started up my Google Maps again and focused on the road instead of the flowers and gift beside me on the seat.

  I could almost hear Deacon in my head telling me this woman was absolutely worth me making
an ass of myself on occasion. I pulled into the Holiday Inn and wondered again how she’d managed to get a room here. The police had her purse, and we hadn’t stopped by her safe-deposit box yet. So she had no ID and no cash, and she couldn’t have gotten them from her box.

  Obviously, my mate was resourceful.

  I parked and got out of the truck as I checked my phone again. Room 313. I went inside and got in the elevator. I exited on the third floor and stopped outside the room marked 313. I sucked in a slow breath, already catching her scent nearby, and knocked.

  I heard the safety chain being unlocked, and the door opened. My jaw went slack as my gaze wandered up from her bare feet to her face. Natasha was out of the borrowed clothes and wearing a dark-green silk nightgown.

  Her lips curved into a sexy smile. “You got my text.”

  “I did.” I peered at the television behind her. “Can I come in?”

  She stepped back, and I entered the room while she closed and locked the door behind me. I turned around and offered her the roses. “I brought these for you.”

  Her smile widened. She lifted the bouquet to her face and sniffed it. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re nothing compared to you.” Her eyes dipped to the small paper bag in my hand. My heart raced as I handed her the tiny, unwrapped package. “It’s not a big thing, but it made me think of you.”

  She opened the bag and read the words. When her eyes met mine, there were tears in them.

  I panicked. “Oh shit. Did I do something wrong?”

  She shook her head and set the frame on the table. “No. I love it.” She faced me again and took both my hands in hers. “No one has ever brought me flowers and gotten me a gift before.”

  I couldn’t believe it, but her expression made it clear she wasn’t joking. I wanted to kill Antonio Severino all over again for treating her so poorly. I pulled her into my arms, holding her close. Her breasts pressed against my chest, sending fire shooting through me. I kissed the top of her head and admitted, “I’ve never bought flowers and a gift for a woman before, either.”