by Cynthia Eden
She glanced over, her eyes slanted toward him.
“I don’t really know you.” His head leaned down, and his lips brushed against hers. A lover’s caress. “But then, you don’t really know me, either.” A warning.
His mouth pressed tight against her lips. Hard, insistent.
She opened her mouth for him. Not because someone might be watching, but because she wanted to kiss him, and screw anyone out there. Let them watch. Their tongues met. They tasted. And the cold seemed to fade away.
Back with him. In his arms. Her heart beat faster, and her sex began to moisten. In his bed, she hadn’t needed to pretend. She didn’t have to lie about being strong. In bed, it was just bodies, needs.
Man.
Woman.
Rain began to fall on them, softly at first. Little drops that tapped on her skin, then harder, steadier as the storm that had threatened all day finally came calling.
Max’s head rose, and he stared down at her with water on his eyelashes and drops sliding down his cheeks. She tasted the rain on her tongue, and she still tasted him.
“Max!” A woman’s cry. High and frantic.
Sam’s head turned. Beth stood in the entranceway, waving. “The phone!” Beth shouted, “It’s—”
They ran for her.
Max beat Sam inside, and Beth pointed down the hallway. “Frank—he’s in his study. They called his cell. I-I know it’s them…”
Sam’s shoes squeaked and the water dripped onto the expensive tile as she raced for the study.
“Yes, I damn well got your proof,” Frank shouted into the phone, and Sam shut the study door, securing them inside. “Now you listen, and you listen good—”
He broke off, and Sam saw his eyes narrow. His thick Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought you wanted… five million.” His gaze darted to Max. Another hard swallow. “No, I don’t need another delivery. I’ll pay, you bastard, just don’t hurt him anymore!” Frank ran a shaking hand through his hair.
A victim. That’s what Fuck ’em Frank had become. Afraid. Desperate. He didn’t like being this way. She could see the fight in his eyes, but he didn’t have a choice, and he didn’t know what to do.
Sam looked away. She didn’t like seeing the victims. Couldn’t seem to deal with them anymore. Luke was great with them. He could always put them at ease and get every bit of witness testimony from them. The victims just made her feel… weak. Because I’m one of them?
“When.” The word snapped out from Frank like a command, but broke like a plea. The age spots on the back of his hand stood out in stark contrast to his white-knuckled grip on the phone. “I-I’ll have to go to the bank again. I’ll go and…” He broke off, listening. “Yes, he’s here.”
They want you. Frank mouthed the words to Max.
“We’ll make the delivery.” Frank’s gray eyes darted to her face. “Just the two of us, you have my-my word.” His shoulders slumped, and he ended the call.
Sam advanced on him. She took his phone and used caller ID to find the kidnapper’s number. The number was listed this time. The guy hadn’t blocked the number for this call. Damn odd. Their kidnappers seemed too smart for a slip like this.
But everyone screws up….
Sam took out her phone and immediately texted the number to Luke.
“They want ten million now.” Frank sounded lost. “Ten million. Bastard said the price went up because it took us so long to get to the bank.”
“He’s playing you.” Sam typed fast. 10 million. “The ransom was always going to be ten million.”
“Then why didn’t he say so from the beginning?” Frank yelled, turning on her, and really, it was only to be expected. That much rage, bubbling up, had to go somewhere.
Sam knew she was just a convenient target. She inhaled slowly before she answered. “Because this guy likes to jerk people around. He knows you’ll be frantic tonight, making calls to the banker at home, calling your lawyer, and busting ass to get the rest of his money. You’ll be weak and controllable. Exactly what he wants.”
Frank blinked.
“He’s upped the ransom before. He didn’t demand more with the first victim. I don’t know, maybe he thought after the deal that he could have gotten more.” The kidnapper wasn’t making that mistake again. “It’s the way he plays now.”
“Plays?” Max repeated. “We’re not playing. This is my brother’s life.”
“I know, and I need you to trust me. I can help bring Quinlan home.” Her gaze held his. “Tell me the location of the drop site.”
But Frank hesitated. “He said only me and Max.”
Sam’s hold on her phone tightened. Not the perps’ MO. One person always made the drop. Just one. “The SSD will monitor from a distance.” It was the same thing that she’d told Max. “The kidnappers will never know the agents are there, but we’ll be able to track them after the drop-off. We’ll find Quinlan—”
Frank shook his head. “They said they’d send him to me. One hour after the drop, they said they’d send him.”
Didn’t he get it? “And then they’ll take someone else. And maybe they’ll cut him. Maybe they’ll let him live. Or maybe they’ll toss his body on his parents’ driveway like they did with Jeremy Briar.”
She took another deep breath, aware that her voice had started to rise. “Tell me the drop point.” They needed this. The SSD had to break up the kidnapping ring.
“Wyham Park.”
Big, public. So many entrances. So many trees. All those places to hide. A person could vanish in thirty seconds if he wanted to. Great.
“Noon,” Frank said.
The busiest time of the day. The lunch break.
Smart.
Her fingers raced over the touchpad screen on her phone as a soft knock tapped at the door.
“Beth.” Max exhaled her name on a sigh. “She told us about the call.” He strode to the door and twisted the knob as he opened the door.
Beth stood on the threshold, her eyes big, her face pale. “I-is he…?”
“They want to make an exchange,” Frank said. “Bastards want ten million now or they’re going to kill him.”
“Frank…” Beth whispered his name as she hurried across the room to his side. “I’m so sorry.” She reached for him.
His hand flew up. “Not now, Beth.” He knocked her hand away and then marched toward the bar. Frank poured a tall glass of whiskey. “Not now.”
Sam saw the other woman’s flinch. Interesting.
Very interesting.
Sam remembered the e-mails that she’d read on Quinlan’s laptop last night. She couldn’t help but wonder if Frank knew his younger lover was also sleeping with his son. Sometimes it was so easy to hide an affair, especially with one lover dead to the world every night. So easy.
Sam shoved her phone back into her bag. Beth turned around and headed for the door. But Sam had caught a glimpse of Beth’s eyes before she’d whirled away. Tears hadn’t been filling that blue gaze. Rage had burned in Beth’s stare.
Sam typed one more note. Want background checks ASAP. That would have been routine, of course. As soon as the SSD learned of the disappearance, they would have started working every angle.
She’d been doing her own checks while she was in the house. When she’d used Quinlan’s laptop, she’d gotten access to his complete social networking system. She’d backtracked through his wall to follow his activity for the last few weeks, and she’d sent his list of “friends” to the SSD office so that they could cross-reference those with the other kidnap victims.
She’d also entered Donnelley’s system. The good doctor apparently liked his porn, and he’d been trying to hook up online at a dating site. None of his e-mails had raised a red flag with her, but she still planned to search his financial records the instant that she had access to the SSD’s computer system.
When she’d tapped into Frank’s online accounts, she’d seen that he had far more than a healthy balance in the bank. As
with the previous kidnap victims, their perps had picked a target that could easily pay them.
But she wanted more information than what she was retrieving through the house network. After the drop tomorrow, she’d have full access again. Then she’d take an hour on her equipment at the office, and she’d be able to find out every secret the Malones possessed.
“I want Jon on point in the park tomorrow.” Luke gave the order to his team and knew it would come as no surprise. An ex-sniper, Jon was by far the best when it came to observing from a distance. “Keep a weapon on them, Jon. This thing…” His shoulders rolled. “I don’t want it blowing up in our faces.”
“No,” Hyde’s deep voice cut from the doorway. “We sure as hell don’t.”
Luke inclined his head. “Sir, this is our best chance. Sam is serving this case to us on a platter.” The pieces still didn’t fit for him, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If they could break this case… take down these killers…
“We need to talk with Kathleen Briar,” Monica said, nodding her head. “I want to know exactly what her husband said about the ransom drop demands.” A soft sigh escaped her lips. “As far as I know, two people have never been asked to come to the drop site. Either they’re changing their MO now or they changed up the plan with Briar…”
“It would be easier to find out if she hadn’t blown the guy’s head off,” Kim murmured, tapping her pencil against the edge of the table. “Then we could’ve just asked him directly. So much easier.”
“If you wanted easy,” Hyde drawled, “you wouldn’t be in the Bureau.”
“Guess not.” Kim flashed a wide smile, one that faded quickly when she said, “There’s something you all should know.” Kim flipped open the file in front of her and pushed some pages toward them. “The fingerprint check on the box turned up a hit on an ex-con. A woman named Kailey Elizabeth Gentry, a prostitute from Boston.”
Shit, this might be it. The break they needed. The one—
“I pulled up a picture of Kailey.” Her lips twisted into a humorless grin. “Funny thing. She looks just like Beth Dunlap, only about ten years younger.”
Well damn. “Sam texted that Dunlap was the one to pick up the box.”
“Yeah, and I’m guessing the lady didn’t know just what she was giving away when she did.” Kim shook her head. “So far, Beth has been coming up clean on the check.”
Not so much for Kailey.
“But I did more digging after I got the hit,” Kim said. “I’m not as fast or as good as Sam on a computer, but I did find some info. Seems Ms. Kailey married a man named Gunther Dunlap when she was twenty. An older guy, with a little money. When he died a year later in a car crash, she kept the cash and got a new name.”
So her current last name had come courtesy of the dead husband. And now Kailey was living with another older, richer man.
“Kailey isn’t the only one in that house with a record,” Kim told them as she leaned forward, her face intent. “And I think we need to get this info to Sam right away.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Who else?” The security guard? He’d had the look of a man who’d been around the block and seen the dark streets, but…
“Maxwell Ridgeway isn’t quite the clean-cut man that the business papers would have you believe.”
Luke’s gaze dropped to the paper that she’d shoved his way. He scanned the lines, his heart pumping faster. Shit.
“Had to unseal some records.” Kim gave a careless shrug but he knew that the job hadn’t been easy. “Seems that once Max’s mother married Frank Malone, well, Max’s past vanished.”
Not completely. Nothing and no one ever vanished completely.
“Manslaughter,” Luke said, and felt a throb begin in his temples. Did Sam know about his past?
No, no, she couldn’t know.
“What is it?” Monica asked, craning her neck to read the paper in his hand.
Kim handed her a copy of the file then passed other copies to the rest of the team as she said, “When he was fourteen, Maxwell Ridgeway beat a man to death with a baseball bat.”
Damn.
Kim waited a beat. “And that’s the man that Sam is currently protecting, 24–7, with no backup in sight.”
Sam answered her phone on the first ring. “Hello.” She was careful to sound like a civilian and not provide her usual, automatic agent identification.
“Get to a secure room,” Luke barked in her ear. “Get in there, alone, and get there now.”
She turned away from Max and automatically shut the door. “I’m secure.” But not alone. Frank had gone after Beth. And she wasn’t leaving Max right then.
“He’s got a record, Sam. One that his old man worked damn hard to keep hidden.”
Her shoulders hunched. “Quinlan?” She’d wondered about that. Two of the other kidnapped men had been arrested for drug possession.
“No, Max.”
She blinked. “You sure?”
“Samantha?” Max questioned. The thick carpet muffled his steps “Who is it? What’s going on?”
She glanced over her shoulder. Had Luke heard Max’s voice? She shook her head but kept her eyes on his.
“He killed a man,” Luke told her. “Do you hear me? He killed a man.”
Her lips felt numb so it was hard to ask. “When?”
“Hell… years ago. He was fourteen. Ridgeway used a bat to hit some guy named John Dean. The courts tried Ridgeway as a minor, and he got kicked out of the system when he was eighteen. Then when his mom hooked up with Malone, well, some judge magically sealed his files.”
But the SSD knew how to unseal any file.
“Watch your ass with him, got me?” Luke pressed.
Max’s blue gaze bored into her.
“And Beth Dunlap isn’t who she says, either,” Luke continued. “Her real name’s Kailey Elizabeth Gentry. She was busted for soliciting when she was eighteen.”
No one was ever who they seemed to be. Not even me.
Her breath choked out.
“Samantha?” Max’s brows shot up. “What is it?” Worry darkened his eyes. “Is it Quinlan? Has something happened to him?”
She shook her head.
“He’s there,” Luke growled in her ear.
Yes, Max stood right in front of her now and crowded her against the wall. She still had her weapon, but it was in the purse on the desk and no use to her.
You don’t need a weapon. He hasn’t hurt you. He’s not even touching you.
Luke’s sigh carried easily over the phone. “Stay on guard, every minute. Don’t trust this guy. Don’t trust anyone there.”
Once upon a time, trust had come easily for her. Those days were gone. She didn’t need Luke’s warning.
Screwing a killer. Is that how messed up her life had become?
She’d thought Max was the toughest-looking guy in the bar. The strongest. The sexiest.
But had there been more? Had she been drawn to him because he was dark inside? Dark, just like she was?
Her stomach clenched. “I can take care of myself,” she told Luke.
“If you need me, you call me,” Luke ordered. “Fuck the case. Call me.”
Sam pressed the screen and ended the call.
Max reached for her, and she flinched—an instinctive reaction.
His expression hardened. “You know.” A wealth of understanding and a simmer of rage filled the simple words.
Then Max stepped even closer, and her back rammed against the wall.
Be strong. Don’t do this. Stop backing down.
“Guess that was your Special Agent on the phone.” Max’s lips twisted into a mirthless smile. “And let me guess; he’s been digging around in my past.”
“I-it’s procedure.” It was. “Family members and close acquaintances always have to be-be investigated.” Killer.
Max? No, he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He’d held her when she woke up screaming in the night.
His hands
rose and trapped her against the wall. “Big tough agent,” he murmured. “But you’re so scared right now, you’re shaking.” His eyes held hers. “Does it make you afraid, knowing how close you are to a killer?”
“St-stop it.”
His lips grazed her jaw. “You said killers all belong in cages, right? But you let me touch you. Let me taste every part of you.”
She brought her hands up and pressed them against his chest. He didn’t move.
“You had sex with a killer,” Max continued.
Sam shoved him back. “Get away from me!” The order came as nearly a scream when it should have been a controlled order. But she was shattering from the inside out. Max didn’t know, couldn’t know. Her secrets were hers. No one had dug them up.
“You wanted me closer before.” How could blue eyes look so dark? “You all but begged me to get closer.”
She attacked. Her hands balled into fists. Sam slammed her shoulder into his mid-section even as she struck out with her right hand. Take him down. Take him out.
They crashed to the floor. Max grunted at the impact and his hands came up.
Fight back, fight—
He grabbed her wrists, rolled and twisted so that she was under him. Sam head-butted him and bucked, kicking out with her feet. No, not done yet, not out. She was strong. Stronger.
“You won’t hurt me anymore!” The words burst from her as the past tangled with the present. “I won’t beg. I won’t—”
“Shit, Samantha, for Christ’s sake, stop!”
A fist pounded on the door. “What the hell is happening in there?” Frank roared.
The doorknob rattled. She’d locked the door automatically to secure the room.
Max’s breath panted out as he stared down at her. No fury glittered in his gaze. Worry. A touch of fear. For her.
Broken. Oh, no, oh God, no—if Hyde found out what she’d just done—
“We’re fine,” Max yelled, but his hold on her didn’t loosen. “Just leave us alone!”
She could feel Frank’s hesitation, but after a few beats of silence, she heard the thuds of his fading footsteps.
Her eyes squeezed shut, and her head fell back against the carpet. What had she done? And why?