by Shayla Black
and quiet. My job is infinitely easier when I have those things.”
“I’ve dropped the investigation.”
She’d been a good girl these past couple of days. Oh, she’d told Dax she was continuing, but she’d kept to her own cases, her own desk. She wasn’t going to give that man any reason to send someone else after him. And each night, she’d lied to Dax about her progress. The guilt was starting to eat at her. She would lie in his arms and the feeling of contentment she normally had with him washed away the second she remembered she would have to crush his need to see his father exonerated soon.
Somehow, she had to tell him she was quitting the investigation. She would have to convince him his father wasn’t worth the trouble.
“You might have dropped the investigation,” the man said grimly, “but your boyfriend seems to have picked it right up where you left off.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Captain Spencer pulled a few strings and learned the names of Sue Carlyle’s former cellmates. Additionally, he’s scheduled a meeting with the drug addict herself next week. You didn’t do what you promised.”
Her heart did a flip in her chest. “He did what?”
He’d mentioned absolutely nothing about it. Not one word. As far as she’d known, he’d been trying to wrap up the training protocols with Courtney. She’d dreaded that since it meant he would be leaving soon, but it would also take him out of the reach of the man on the phone.
“You heard me. I’ve had to take extra measures. I had two choices, Special Agent. I could do what I’ve done or I could have eliminated the problem.”
Terror sparked through her. “If you touch him in any way, I swear I won’t ever stop hunting you down.”
“I rather thought that would be your reaction, so I chose Door Number Two. I had to sell it to my boss. The next time he’ll do what he wants to do. You won’t like his choices, Special Agent.”
Her hand clenched around the phone. “What have you done?”
“I’ve ensured that the problem goes away. Unfortunately, you’re part of the problem. Spencer is here in New Orleans for you as much as his investigation. I’ve ensured he won’t want to be around you again. He needs a distraction, and a little betrayal will do wonders for his focus. Once he gets back on his ship, he won’t have time for things like investigations. Hell, he won’t have time to communicate with the outside world and that’s how we like it.”
Yes, she could see where focusing Dax on something besides his father’s death would be helpful. “Where do I come into it?”
“You’ll find your bank account is much healthier than once it was. I hope you enjoy the hundred grand. It’s yours to keep from my gracious employer. Consider it a fair exchange for your relationship.”
“For my relationship? Why would me breaking up with Dax cause him to stop investigating his father’s death?”
A chuckle came over the line. “I’m sure he won’t, though he’ll likely take his time getting back to it. But he won’t have NCIS access. He won’t have a law enforcement professional smoothing the way for him.”
“He could have the damn president smoothing the way for him.” Did they forget who Dax was?
“Your captain would never drag his friends into this,” the man replied smoothly. “If that were true, he already would have. He can’t go to a reporter because that would hurt his mother and sister. His only real option is you. If he can no longer trust you, he’ll have nothing but hired hands to turn to.”
She shivered. “And hired hands can be bought.”
“Everyone can be bought, with the exception of a woman in love. I don’t trust you, dear. I think the captain might get on his boat and you could rethink everything, decide that maybe you can find the answers he seeks. You’re dangerous together so I’ll tear you apart one way or another.”
Her blood chilled. “And you think a hundred thousand dollars can tear us apart?”
“Yes, I do. I believe this will work and even when Spencer comes home after his next six months at sea, we’ll have had time to fix any leaks we might have. He won’t find the same information again. He can look, but we’ll have done a better job this time.”
“Why not just show him those damn pictures?” She wouldn’t be able to. Just the sight of them had made her sick, but she was so confused.
“I would in a heartbeat if I thought it would truly change things. No. I think I’ve chosen the right set of moves. It’s like chess, you know. In a few moments Captain Spencer will be confronted with your betrayal. He’ll also have to think about the ramifications of the case being opened again. He thought he could do it quietly. I’ve shown him that’s not likely. Even now someone will probably be calling him and throwing around words like scandal and exposure and optics. Of all the men in the world, politicians and their ilk are really the most predictable. He’ll go to his boat and lick his wounds and decide that perhaps his sister and his mother and his friends are worth more than a dead man’s memory. The scandal will fade again. The Hayes administration can stay on task instead of answering questions about their employee’s family. And my boss gets to stay out of the spotlight as well. We’re all happier with the investigation closed. Even the captain, as he never has to see those photos. Everyone is better off. Well, except you.”
It could work. She still didn’t know what was going on, but Dax might shut down the investigation if he thought it could hurt his sister. “I’ll talk to him about it. I’ll get him to see reason.”
Dax would put his family first. Surely. She could make him see it was their only choice.
“I doubt that,” came the reply. “When the captain comes to confront you, I hope you’ll remember that old saying: sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Good-bye, Special Agent. This is the last time we’ll speak. The next time, I’ll use more than words to deal with the situation.”
She’d never felt more helpless than she did when she heard that line go dead.
What the hell had that man done? It couldn’t be good. Her stomach clenched, tears starting to pierce her eyes.
A hundred thousand. Someone had paid a whole lot to set her up. But set her up for what?
The door opened and Dax stormed in. His normally perfect hair was slightly disheveled and his eyes wide. “Holland!”
She moved into his line of sight. “I’m here.”
He sighed and stepped toward her, pulling her close. “I was so worried about you.”
“Worried? Why?” She clutched him close for a long moment, breathing him in. She had a sudden feeling that this embrace might be their last.
“Sweetheart, I need you to go and look at your bank account. I think someone’s fucking with us, and we need to figure out who it is. I’m going to tell you something disturbing, but I want you to stay calm. I need you to understand that I’m going to make everything right. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She had to force herself to breathe. Not playing along with the mobster’s scheme meant something terrible would happen to him.
She stepped back, her heart in her throat. “What are you talking about?”
She was fairly certain she didn’t want to know.
“Someone wants me to believe that you’re trying to sell photos of my father and Amber Taylor together in bed,” he explained, his mouth a flat line.
“The girl he was accused of raping?” She could still see those photos. The hollow look in the girl’s eyes would haunt her for the rest of her days. Dax thought he’d known his dad, but those pictures reminded her that no matter how well she thought she knew someone, she could never know the depths of their darkness.
If they got out into the public, the Spencer family might never recover.
A single brow rose over his left eye as he took another step back. “The girl he was accused of sleeping with, yes. Apparently someone stole the pictures and whoever wanted to destroy my father is now threatening to relea
se them and blame you.”
God, her mystery mobster had released the original blackmail photos and set her up to take the fall, hoping that Dax would be so overwhelmed by her betrayal he would walk away from the investigation. They hadn’t sent them to Dax himself. Dax had made it plain that he was investigating what he believed was his father’s murder. The potential belief that his father was guilty of the crime hadn’t thrown Dax off.
But the idea of those photos being out in the world might. The idea that the woman he loved had betrayed him utterly could derail him and send him right back to his ship where he couldn’t cause trouble. Not any the mob couldn’t control. If he sent private investigators, they would be bought off or blackmailed. They’d proven there were very few people they couldn’t get to.
They’d put her in a horrible position. She’d meant to put him on a boat in a week and then she would have had six months to figure out how to handle the situation. She would have come up with something, some way to gently turn his mind away or to try to prove to him his father really had killed himself.
Now she had nothing. If she defended herself, he could die.
“Where are they releasing the photos?”
Dax shook his head and headed for the bar. She had a decent bottle of bourbon there and he poured out two glasses. “They’d intended to go to the papers with the pictures. And the reporter who was going to break the story was finalizing a publishing deal. Apparently they can’t take down my family with a single story. They needed a whole book.”
“Was finalizing a deal?” How far had they gone?
Dax handed her one before taking a good swig of his own. “Yes. My friends found out about the deal and it’s dead now.”
How would her man with no name take that? Would he be angry? Or could she satisfy him by throwing Dax off the investigation? Panic warred with anger inside her. She didn’t want to lose Dax but Holland was furious that she didn’t see a way out. Or had that all been part of their plan in the first place? They had to know Dax’s friends could kill that deal. This was all about making her look bad. The “deal” would get quashed so the rumors and investigations wouldn’t be public again, but one person would have to take the fall. Her. “How did they do that?”
“Zack handled it.”
When one of your best friends was the president of the United States, she supposed one could accomplish a lot with a minimal amount of red tape. “What are you going to do?”
Not that she could believe him. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d made plans to go to the prison. Unless the man on the phone had been lying to her?
“I’m going to find out who’s setting you up and I’m going to make them pay. I’m not an idiot, Holland. I know you wouldn’t betray me like this. Someone wants me to think you would. They’re trying to drive a wedge between us, and I won’t let it happen.”
She fought back tears because how many men in his position would believe her? None that she knew of. He loved her. It was the only reason he could possibly look at all the evidence and still come to the conclusion that she was innocent.
It was sweet and touching . . . and heartbreaking. Clearly, he wouldn’t stop trying to vindicate his father or her. Never. He would be a dog with a bone, and the mob would take him down eventually. They would call it an accident, a tragedy. No one would be able to prove anything, but Dax Spencer would cease to be.
She was the only one who could possibly stop it. She had to make him believe his father was guilty. It was the only way to end this. That was her real job in all this chaos.
“He was guilty.” The words dropped from her mouth like a boulder that was suddenly too heavy for her to bear.
“Connor is overseas right now, I suspect. I never really know where the man is.” Dax continued on like she hadn’t said a thing. “I’ll leave him a message, but as soon as I can I’ll talk to him about delving into your banking records. We have to be able to figure out who sent you that money.”
“He was guilty, Dax.” She had to make him understand. “Your father committed statutory rape and he killed himself because of the repercussions.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes not quite focused. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t understand. What are you saying to me?”
This was going to be so much harder than she could have imagined. Dax wasn’t going to simply accept that his father had possessed a dark side and move on, but then that was the mobsters’ plan. The man on the phone had been explicit. He wanted Dax Spencer back at his Naval post and without resources here at home. He wanted her separated from Dax. He hadn’t counted on Dax believing she was innocent.
She needed the man she loved to think she was the bad guy. Holland didn’t see another way to make this work. If she told Dax the whole truth, he’d only fight harder and bring his friends into this danger. No, she had to sacrifice their relationship to save his life.
She thought for a moment, trying to figure a way out. Maybe she could tell him the truth and that he needed to leave her, get on his boat and they could try again, more quietly this time. He could leave her here and let her try to bring the mob down.
Yes, he would just quietly get on that boat and leave her. Not in a million years. He would never leave her behind. He would go straight to the Navy and open another investigation—this one into the threats against her.
They had no idea who the mob had on the inside. Of the cops. Of NCIS. Of the Navy.
The only way to save Dax was to hide the truth and get him on that damn boat.
Holland turned her back on Dax and wrapped her arms around herself. God, she’d love to hold him one last time . . . but that wouldn’t convince him that she’d sold him out.
Instead, she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to go cold as she turned to face him.
In a few months, maybe a year, perhaps she could try to talk to him again. Perhaps they could meet secretly and she could explain, but now there was no way except to make him hate her.
“You heard what I said, Dax. I’ve spent the last several weeks investigating this case. I’ve put my life on hold for it and I’ve come to one and only one conclusion. Your dad raped that girl. I’ve seen the photos. In fact, I was the one who found them.”
The blood leeched from his face, leaving him pale. He chugged back another long drink before looking up at her. “When did you find the photos? And where are they? I want to see them.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have them anymore.”
She placed careful emphasis on the “anymore,” praying he would come to the proper conclusions. She couldn’t handle a nasty, prolonged fight. At some point she would break down because what she needed more than anything was for him to pull her into his arms, to hold her close and promise everything would be all right. She needed it more than anything and it was the one thing she might never have again. After today, he might well hate her for the rest of their lives.
And she would love him forever.
His lips thinned to an angry line. “What are you saying, Holland?”
“I think you know. Who called you? Was it Zack himself?”
He shook his head. “Roman.”
Of course. Roman did Zack’s dirty work. Always had. “Did Roman tell you it was my fault?”
“Of course he did. Though you should know it was Gus who found it.”
Holland’s knees nearly buckled. God, she hadn’t thought about the fact that she was going to lose them all. Gus would never forgive her. Sure, Gus seemed like a happy, fun party girl who guarded her friends and family like a momma bear. But once she’d been branded guilty, Gus wouldn’t speak to her again, wouldn’t call and force her to go to lunch or to parties. Holland knew damn well Gus wouldn’t ever allow her to see Judith Spencer again.
God, she was going to miss them. But every single one of them would be alive. That’s what mattered most.
“I should have guessed. She’s a smart cookie. I thought I could get away
with it.” She forced her voice to sound arctic cold. Inside, she desperately wanted to cry, but she couldn’t give him a hint that she wasn’t anything but a mercenary bitch.
Dax stood, staring for a shocked moment. “I don’t understand. Tell me what you did. Tell me in plain English.”
He wasn’t about to make this easy for her. He never did. She was going to have to sell it. “When I realized you were completely wrong about your father, I had a decision to make. I’m not going to ruin my career for you. I’m not about to be the idiot agent who let some man drag her down. I’m smarter than that. Besides, any woman you end up with is going to be a cipher, Dax. She won’t exist except as an appendage to you. Same with any of your friends. Do you think I’ve forgotten how Joy was treated? She was my best friend and when she died, all anyone could talk about was how her murder affected Zack’s fucking campaign. No one cared that she was gone as long as he won the damn election.”
Sometimes it was easiest to tinge the lie with a bit of truth. She really had felt that way about Joy’s death. No one had celebrated her sweet friend’s life or really even mourned her death. They’d simply talked about how her assassination had been a mistake since they’d obviously wanted to kill the senator and wasn’t it a shame. But hey, three days later, the senator had become the president. Then no one had given a damn about Joy Hayes anymore.