At Any Cost

by Mandy Baxter

  “Livy.”

  She held up her hand to silence Nick. “Don’t. If you don’t let me get this out now, I’m never going to be able to do it.” Livy felt the weight of his stare but she refused to look at him. If she did, she’d break down for sure. “I found him in Oakland, which really stung since he couldn’t even be bothered to drive the three measly hours to Tahoe to see me. He was working as an accountant, and he offered me a job as his secretary. Can you believe that shit? Not a dime of child support in eighteen years and the jerk offers me a job. You know what’s worse? I took it. I’d been skiing my entire life. It’s not like the job prospects were pouring in. I worked for him for three months before I realized what he was up to—what I’d been helping him to do. He was laundering money for gangs, drug dealers. . . .” Her voice quavered and she forced it to steady. “Motorcycle clubs. Apparently it was the best scam he’d ever run. They didn’t notice a few dollars here or there gone on top of his fees,” she said. “Not when they were sometimes cycling hundreds of thousands of dollars through him.”

  Livy’s limbs shook with unspent adrenaline. Already she felt lighter getting some of this off her shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter anymore how Nick felt about her or why he’d done what he’d done. She needed to do this for herself. For her own peace of mind and conscience.

  Nick’s voice stretched out between them, warm and solid. “So he was embezzling the money he was supposed to be laundering?”

  Livy nodded though she still couldn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t have known about it at all but I overheard him bragging about it to his girlfriend one day. I confronted him and he promised to help pay Mom’s medical bills if I agreed to keep my mouth shut.” It was a shame that had blighted Livy’s soul. That she’d trade her own integrity for a shallow promise and dirty money. “I’m not proud of myself for it, but I didn’t think we had any other options. Of course, giving my dad a free pass didn’t change anything. He kept stringing me along. Told me that if I stayed another week, and then another, he’d wire the money to my mom. I worked at his shithole office every day for an entire summer, watching thugs, murderers, and criminals cycle their dirty money through his dummy corporations, waiting for him to finally step up and take care of us. That’s how I met Joel.

  “My dad had been laundering and stashing money for him for a couple of years. He was also the person my dad was skimming the most from.” Livy let out a bitter laugh. “I guess he thought a stupid biker wouldn’t catch on to what he was doing. That he wouldn’t watch his money as closely as the drug dealers did.”

  “Joel Meecum isn’t stupid,” Nick replied. “If he was, we would have found him a long time ago.”

  That was the truth. “I knew if Joel ever found out what my dad was up to, he was as good as dead and I realized too late that he was never going to give me or my mom any money. He was scamming me like he scammed everyone else. I went to his office to tell him I was leaving and when I got there, my dad was packing up his shit as fast as he could get it into boxes.”

  Livy finally met Nick’s gaze. She couldn’t tell if the anger that furrowed his brow was directed at her or simply the story she told him. At this point, did it matter?

  “I didn’t even get the chance to ask him what was going on when we heard the motorcycles pull up.” She sighed. “I guess it was lucky for me that Harleys with straight pipes are loud. My dad shoved a ledger into my hand and forced me into a closet. I hid behind a stack of boxes and listened to Joel beat my father to death.”

  The tears that she’d refused to allow herself to shed spilled over Livy’s cheeks. She hated her dad for leaving her and her mom. For failing to take care of them. For making their lives so much harder than they’d had to be. But she’d never wished him dead no matter how much she hated him. And she’d never had to endure anything as frightening and gruesome as the long minutes she’d hidden in that closet and been forced to listen to her dad die.

  “Jesus.” Nick’s single word pierced the quiet.

  That pretty much summed it up. “I think I waited in the closet for three hours or longer before I figured it was safe to come out.” Livy swiped at the tears that cascaded over her cheeks. “There was blood everywhere. My dad was on the floor, dead. I took the ledger and I ran.”

  “Joel must have come back later for his ledger,” Nick said more to himself than Livy. “That’s why he’s looking for you.”

  “No. I screwed up,” she said through her tears. “I figured he’d come after me next if he couldn’t find it so I left him a message telling him I had it. I thought I could use it as leverage. I told him that if anything ever happened to me, I’d turn it over to the cops. He knew I wouldn’t, though. I couldn’t trust anyone so I took his stupid book and I ran.”

  “This ledger,” Nick said, “it’s got financial records in it?”

  “Yeah. I know it back to front. I can tell you the names of every single person he’s ever done business with. What they muled, traded, sold, or smuggled and for how much.”

  “God, Livy. No wonder he put the word out that you were an ex-girlfriend. If any of his business associates had known why he was really looking for you, they would have killed him before they went after you.”

  She’d never thought of that. Good Lord. It was a miracle she’d survived so long without someone finding her. “I learned a thing or two in the few months I’d been hanging out with my dad. A friend of his made me a fake ID and set me up with a new Social Security number. And as far as my dad was concerned, there was nothing to connect him to me. His entire life, he’d never told anyone he had a daughter. The only person who’d ever met me besides his friend Bruce who did my new ID was his girlfriend, and Joel and he didn’t tell them I was his daughter. How’s that for a daddy-daughter moment? I’d been using my mom’s name since I was seventeen so I knew no one would connect me to my dad but I changed my last name to Gallagher to protect my mom.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police, Livy?” The anger in Nick’s voice gave way to concern and it sliced through her. “Running only makes you look guilty.”

  She knew that but at the time she hadn’t trusted anyone. “My dad told me that Joel had police, FBI, and customs agents on his payroll. I couldn’t go to anyone local and I was too afraid to reach out to anyone out of state. I had no idea how far his reach was. He’s in business with people from everywhere, Nick.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Who could I trust?”

  “Me.” The forcefulness of the word caused her to look up. His gaze bore through her, the intensity of his dark eyes and the emotion there left her feeling too full of emotion and shaken. “You can trust me, Livy.”

  The glow of headlights shone through the upstairs window. A fresh wave of fear crashed over Livy and pulled her into its undertow. Her breath stalled in her chest and no matter what she did, she couldn’t draw in enough air to fill her lungs. Black spots swam in her vision and she swayed on her feet. Two in the morning wasn’t exactly a prime time for company. Nick had found her. Easily. Who else had managed to figure out where she’d hidden herself?

  “Don’t move.” Nick held his arm out as he eased his body toward the window. He kept his back flat against the wall as he peeked through the partially closed curtains to the driveway below.

  Don’t move? Livy didn’t think she could take a single step if she tried. Paralyzed with fear, she had no choice but to wait for Nick’s assessment of what was going on in her driveway and pray for the best. Maybe some drunk idiot had gotten lost on his way home. She’d deal with a shit-faced asshole and face the consequences of turning him in for a DUI any day of the week over a visit from Joel Meecum and his band of violent thugs.

  “Livy?” Nick’s careful tone sent a renewed spike of fear through her bloodstream. “Does this place have a basement?”

  “N-no,” she stuttered. “There’s an old food cellar under the laundry room, though. It’s not much bigger than a closet. I’ve never used it.”

  “Yo
u’re going to use it,” Nick said. “We need to get downstairs. Now.”

  “Why?” Violent tremors shook her and Livy remained planted to her spot on the floor. Nick spun and grabbed her by the elbow. He hauled her against him and rushed down the stairs, all the while helping her along. “What’s going on, Nick? Who’s here?”

  “I’m not sure.” They hit the bottom of the stairs. The house was cloaked in darkness but Nick urged Livy to hustle through the kitchen hunched over and below the windows. “I counted five bodies total.” Once in the laundry room, Nick eased Livy behind him. “Where’s the cellar?”

  Livy pointed to the floor. “There’s a trapdoor under that rug.”

  Nick swept the rug aside. He lifted the door and urged Livy down inside. “Don’t come out until I give you the okay, do you understand me?” She stood there, gaping, unable to acknowledge the fact that he was about to stuff her into the cellar while he ran off and possibly risked his life. “Livy. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Her teeth chattered with every word. It was a wonder she got anything past her lips.

  “Good.” Nick reached for the trapdoor and lowered it over her head. Livy slid down the last three stairs, her legs no longer able to support her weight. “Now, be quiet and don’t move.”

  Holy shit, this was bad. Livy didn’t need confirmation to know that Joel had found her. They were both as good as dead.

  * * *

  Nick closed the trapdoor over Livy and shut her in the cellar before spreading the rug back over the floor. Barefoot, unarmed, and without backup to face five possibly armed men, his situation wasn’t exactly ideal. Especially when he wasn’t sure what direction the ambush would be coming from.

  Meecum had evaded capture for so long because he was a smart son of a bitch. Livy’s dad had underestimated him and it had gotten him killed. Nick wasn’t about to make that mistake. He knew exactly who he was up against and what the man was capable of. If Livy had Meecum’s ledger, you could bet the asshole wouldn’t stop until he had it in his hands and she was dead. Nick was bound and determined to make sure he didn’t get so much as a finger on her.

  The sound of muted voices carried through the thin outer walls of the old cabin. Whoever was out there thought they were stealthy, but they’d obviously never ambushed a quiet rural lane before. There were no city sounds or streetlights to mask their approach. Even if he and Livy had been asleep when Meecum’s guys rolled up, they would have woken.

  On any other night, no one could have gotten into the house without making a hell of a lot of noise. Livy never left or went to bed without making sure every door and window was locked. Nick had distracted her last night, however. He’d closed the front door behind him and they’d made their way up the stairs. As far as he knew, it was still unlocked. Damn it. So far all Nick had managed to do was leave Livy more vulnerable. His actions hadn’t helped her. If anything, he’d provided the necessary distraction for Meecum to sneak right into her house and take her. Some fucking great cop he’d turned out to be. Everything Livy had accused him of stung with bits and pieces of truth. He’d lost his focus. Let the job—his investigation—take a backseat to his feelings. He’d let her down. But damn it, he was going to make up for it.

  The easy access into the house might have been a disaster if they were still asleep, but now Nick could use it to his advantage. Ambush the ambushers. He didn’t have a gun, but he could be pretty goddamned dangerous without one. Careful not to make a sound, he padded to the front door. He kept his back flush to the wall and let the dark interior of the house mask his presence. Nick’s gut tightened with anticipation and not a little anxiety. He wished that Livy wasn’t so close but he was confident that as long as she stayed quiet, Meecum’s guys would never know she was right below their feet. Nothing mattered more to Nick than keeping her safe. He was going to make sure that she never feared Joel Meecum or any of his associates ever again.

  The snow that dusted the front porch steps muted their approach, but Nick knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his skills would be put to the test. He centered his focus and slowed his breathing. His heart beat a mad rhythm in his chest that he swore battered his rib cage. Adrenaline pooled in his limbs, causing his muscles to burn. Nick’s teeth clenched and his nostrils flared. His hands tried to ball into fists but he forced them to remain loose despite the self-preservation instinct that made him want to swing out rather than grab at the first body through the door.

  The knob turned and Nick’s gut twisted into a knot.

  He held his breath. He was more than simply outnumbered and this would be his only opportunity to get a leg up in what was guaranteed to be a violent, deadly fight. He never should have waited so long to wrap this up. He shouldn’t have put Morgan off. He should have confronted Livy and gotten her the hell out of here. Because there was no way everyone involved would walk away from this one. He just hoped that he and Livy survived this.

  Fuck.

  Nick willed his nagging thoughts to silence as the first body eased through the doorway. The door didn’t even squeak to betray their entrance but the groan of the aged wood floors gave them away. Visibility wasn’t ideal but Nick made out the dark outline of an outstretched arm and, from his hand, a monster revolver cast its shadow.

  Nick lunged forward and grabbed the guy’s wrist with his left hand while he swung out with his right. Stunned, it didn’t take much for Nick to twist the guy’s arm behind his back and wrangle the revolver from his grasp. The entire maneuver only took a couple of seconds to execute right before all hell broke loose. Angry shouts preceded the flash and bang of gunfire. Nick’s ears rang and spots swam in his already hampered vision. The chaos of wild shouts and shuffling bodies was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He needed to neutralize the situation at the front of the house before the rest of Meecum’s guys barged in through the back. Nick’s only advantage at this point was the deadbolt on the back door. But if they couldn’t get in that way, he didn’t doubt they’d circle around to help their comrades at the front.

  Brothers till the end.

  He brought the gun he’d managed to wrangle from the first guy around with a wide sweep of his arm. The butt caught thug number one square in the jaw and he went down like a stone. Another wild round of shots rang out and Nick hit the deck but not before he felt the air from a passing bullet whiz past his face. A fresh wave of adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream and he kicked out with his legs to knock thug number two off his feet.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Apparently the lock on the back door wasn’t much of a deterrent for Meecum’s crew. Rather than run around to the front of the house, it sounded like they were trying to come through the door with a battering ram. Nick prayed that Livy had done what he’d told her and stayed in the cellar. The shift of Nick’s focus won his attackers a moment to regroup. His breath left his chest in a whoof! of air as a large body crashed down on top of him. Hands groped through the dark for the gun he still clutched in his hand and Nick swung out blindly with his left fist. The blow glanced off a shoulder, maybe the guy’s chest. It was too hard to tell in the dark. He kicked and shoved, putting enough space between their bodies for Nick to bring his knee up and catch his assailant in the soft part of his gut.

  With a muffled grunt, Nick managed to throw the heavy body from his. He was still at a disadvantage, whether he had a gun in his hand or not. The sound of the jamb splintering at the back door reached his ears and Nick’s nerves jacked up to totally fucked-up proportions. One of Meecum’s guys was unconscious but that still left four against one. He was a master marksman, but even so, he sure as hell wasn’t that good.

  A light flipped on in the kitchen. A second later another flipped on in the dining room. The sudden brightness caused Nick to shield his eyes and he looked up to find the same ratty SOB he’d roughed up at the bar for hassling Livy staring down the barrel of his gun at him.

  The bastard turned his attention to the guy Nick had tripped
. “Get Z-Dog up off the floor and the two of you get upstairs. Turn everything upside down, you hear me? Joel wants Kari alive.”

  “I’m a deputy U.S. marshal,” Nick growled. “Think carefully about what you’re about to do.”

  The guy pulled back the hammer. “I don’t need to think about a goddamned thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The inky blackness that permeated Livy’s vision to the brink of pain was almost tangible, sensory even in its obscurity. It made her think of licorice and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. She could almost smell it, taste it, as the pungent flavor filled her throat and nostrils. Banishing the illusion from her mind, she forced herself to fight the effect of sensory deprivation. She should have mentioned to Nick before he shoved her down into the hole that the lightbulb had burned out a few months ago and since she never used the cellar, she hadn’t bothered to change it.

  Shit.

  Cold seeped through the thin fabric of her sweater and leggings. Goose bumps rose to the surface of Livy’s skin and she tried to rub them away as she remained perched on the steep wooden stairs. No way in hell was she going any farther. God only knew what was down there. Mice. Spiders. She shuddered as the sensation of tiny insects crawled over her flesh. She was going to kill Nick for stuffing her down here. Kill. Him.

  The disorientation of not being able to see her own hand in front of her face caused panic to well up in Livy’s chest. She commanded herself to stay calm and her trembling subsided as her breathing slowed. How long was he planning on keeping her here, blind and confused? Not knowing what in the hell was going on up there or whether or not he was safe.

  “Nick.” The barely whispered word was as good as a shout in the empty dark. “Goddamn it, you’d better not die.”

  The quiet was almost as bad as the darkness. Livy strained to hear even the faintest sign of Nick moving around above her but the concrete walls of the cellar insulated her from any outside sound. He was one man against who knew how many others and if Joel had sent them, you could bet your ass they were armed to the teeth. They’d tear the house to the foundation in their quest to find not only the ledger but also Livy.