Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite)

  She said nothing; her normally emotion-filled face blank.

  …

  As Kyle brought them up to speed, Emma finger combed the tangled locks of her hair, then slid a band off her wrist and captured the mass in a ponytail. She clasped her hands in her lap, the nonchalance she’d worked hard to achieve belied by her white knuckles.

  Who lives in Grant’s old condo?

  Though she had no idea what the answer was, the question nevertheless trickled around the edges of her thoughts, gnawing at her. Why would Cherise go to Grant’s old place? While she firmly believed the other woman was working with Alistair, she found it hard to believe Grant was also a willing partner in the bastard’s plans.

  Of course, that left unwilling participation wide open. Unlike Cole, who merely loathed the man, Grant had clearly feared him.

  Kyle accelerated into the bustling highway traffic before answering Cole’s question. “He sublet it to a young couple through a realtor, no kids. From what he says, Grant’s never met them. Said he hasn’t been back to the place since he moved out.” He glanced at Cole. “I think we have to assume the renters are involved in this. Or that Grant is.”

  Emma clenched her hands tighter. “I don’t think it’s Grant. He seemed very sincere about protecting everyone from Alistair. He hates the man.” Kyle’s clearly biased assessment of Grant annoyed her. If he couldn’t see that Grant’s motivation, Kyle’s niece, for God’s sake, sat right in front of him, then what were Jacob’s chances of receiving the benefit of the doubt?

  Cole grunted. “That means nothing. Grant hated the man when he kept his secrets about Zach, Daniel, and Lizzie’s disappearances, too. He’d sell his own grandmother if it made things easier for him.”

  “That’s not fair! He was frightened for his daughter.” She crossed her arms and sat rigid in her seat. Grant had been frightened the same way she was frightened for her brother.

  “Yes, he was frightened for his daughter, but his choices? He could have helped save his daughter’s entire family, but instead he thought only about Sam, and he turned away from people he could trust—which only put Sam in more danger.” Kyle glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, Emma, but Cole’s right about what Grant did—”

  Cole shook his head, urging the other man to remain quiet.

  Sighing in frustration, Emma changed the subject. Grant’s actions might not be motivated in exactly the same way hers were, but they were still similar. “Doesn’t it seem odd that Cherise waited so long to head to the penthouse? I mean, it’s obvious she’s an obsessive shopper, but it’s as if she headed out just as we landed.”

  Again the men exchanged glances. Another coincidence.

  “Where are we going?” she queried when it appeared they had nothing to add.

  “To the penthouse.” Kyle and Cole responded at the same time, their voices neutral.

  An ominous cloud settled over them as the jeep raced down the highway, barreling toward answers.

  …

  The penthouse rose majestically from the center of a beautifully restored downtown district. Remodeled a decade before, the exterior consisted of meticulously laid brick and stone. Gigantic, carved eagles kept watch from the roof, visible only if patrons tilted their heads toward the sky. Clouds swirled low around them, cloaking the sentinels in shadow, obscuring their view of the mortals below.

  A plate glass double door marked the entrance. As they stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, not a single fingerprint marred the pristine, gold encrusted entry. Despite the nervous energy racing through her, Emma stared in awe at the sheer grandeur of Grant’s old residence.

  “Where’s Zach?” Cole’s question drew Emma’s attention back to the mission at hand.

  “He’s taken Lizzie and the kids to Florida to be with Aunt Sophie. She ended up with a bad case of flu on her trip. It’ll be a few more days before she’s ready to travel home.” Kyle surveyed the area. “Zach took a couple of men with him.”

  “Good.” Cole nodded his head. “They’re safer if they aren’t here.”

  “Our people are in place.” Kyle nodded toward a woman wearing black jeans, a gray turtleneck, and a black leather jacket. Emma recognized Becca from Weston Security. She sat on a bench in the small park across the street from the building, a newspaper spread on her lap, her eyes shaded by dark glasses despite the clouds that blocked the sun’s rays.

  A well-muscled doorman in a black suit and bowtie pulled the heavy door open. Emma suspected he doubled quite effectively as a bouncer when needed.

  “Good afternoon. It’s good to see you again, sir.” The doorman nodded to Kyle. “I believe your friend is waiting at the penthouse.”

  Cole entered first, followed by Emma, then Kyle. Glancing around as they entered a marble lobby no less impressive than the elegant exterior, she wondered how she’d managed to put herself at odds with Cole and Kyle over poor Grant. Although, as she perused the leather tooled ceiling, it occurred to her that poor clearly wasn’t the right word to describe her ex. He might have been on the run from Alistair, but he certainly hadn’t suffered financially in the process.

  Regardless, Grant wasn’t the issue. If somehow he was involved with Cherise and Alistair…if she was wrong, and he was actually a bad guy, then Cole would handle it. Her focus would remain on finding Jacob.

  While she stared at their surroundings, the men spoke in hushed tones about the layout of the building. High ceilings and intricate molding topped glorious, old brick and stone walls that complemented the exterior. She listened closely even as she catalogued expensive paintings and sculptures. No wonder they needed a doorman capable of dissuading would-be thieves.

  She nodded at another bow-tied strongman who sat behind a computer screen at the desk in the corner of the lobby. Modern technology blended seamlessly with old world grace.

  Kyle punched a button on his phone.

  “Calling Joey?” Cole asked.

  Kyle nodded, frowning. “Voicemail. But he’s expecting our call.”

  Cole’s brow knitted. The tell-tale tic appeared in his jaw. “Emma, maybe you should wait…”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m going with you.”

  Kyle started to protest.

  “Hey, I already saved Cole’s life once. I can take care of myself.” She pulled out her Mace.

  Kyle’s eyes widened when he saw the leash attached to the hot pink canister.

  Reluctant amusement lit Cole’s face. “Don’t accidentally spray me with that stuff.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make me use it.” It felt good to banter with him after the disagreement in the car.

  Cole smiled. “See, Kyle. She can take care of herself.” He placed his hand at her back. “Let’s go.”

  They headed for the bank of elevators. Emma prayed they were heading toward answers they could both accept.

  …

  The elevator ride to the twentieth floor passed in silence. Cole felt tension coiling inside him, the momentary humor they’d shared in the lobby dissipating into a deep sense of foreboding. This was where he’d been shot before. Where Lizzie almost lost her life. Where Alistair attempted to steal newly formed memories and turn Zach’s mind into a blank slate yet again.

  Cole hadn’t been back since that day. He’d been recuperating in the hospital while the police and Weston Security searched both the penthouse and the luxurious basement apartment that had been discovered during Alistair’s showdown with Zach and Lizzie the year before.

  Apparently sensing his growing agitation, Emma gave him a wide-eyed look. Forcing aside his growing unease, he rolled his neck and shoulders and concentrated on slow, deep breaths. His mind cleared. He grasped her hand.

  “Stay behind us.”

  The doors opened into an ornate hallway, featuring cherubs and vines encased in more exquisitely carved moldings. Expensive fabric covered the walls. The private hallway stood empty.

  Kyle knocked on the door. Footsteps sounded i
nside. Emma slipped her hand into her pocket, and despite the tension in the hall, Cole forced back a grin. Mace on a string was ready to roll.

  The door was flung open, and Joey ushered them inside, frustration written across his face. As they crossed the threshold, he swept his arm wide to indicate the room beyond. Cherise was nowhere in sight.

  Grant, however, stood near the French doors that opened onto the balcony. Looking at him, every instinct Cole possessed screamed that their supposedly clever plan to follow Cherise had been a setup from the start.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Joey shut the door behind them as they entered a room filled with expensive furniture and delicate pieces of oriental art. Sculptures of jade and ivory adorned the fireplace mantel while china figures rested atop the intricately carved table that butted up to the high back of the brocade sofa.

  They stared at Grant. He stood alone on the far side of the room, his face pale, lines of strain evident. His blond hair was mussed, as though he’d run his hands through it many times. His rumpled, silver blue shirt was tucked haphazardly into crisply pressed, dark gray trousers. He wore black canvas loafers.

  Loafers? The Grant Cole knew wouldn’t be caught dead in dress pants and canvas loafers.

  “Where’s Cherise?” he asked, voice hard.

  Emma’s startled gaze sliced to Cole, then swiveled back to Grant. His burning eyes locked with hers.

  “Well?” Cole demanded.

  Grant shrugged, eyes on Emma. She glanced at Cole as if she felt the piercing stare that analyzed every detail of the silent interaction between her and Grant.

  Joey stepped into the breach. “She’s not here. I’ve been through the entire place. There’s no evidence she’s been here.” He pounded his fist into his palm. “Damn it! I gave her a little space so she wouldn’t recognize me from the plane. She got on the elevator. It came up to the twentieth floor, no stops, and then she just disappeared.”

  Everyone looked at Grant.

  He tore his gaze from Emma and slowly held up his hands, palms out. “I haven’t seen her. I’ve been here for about an hour. Joey’s the first person I’ve seen.”

  Cole stalked to the window to glance at the street far below before turning back to Grant. “You admit knowing Cherise?

  A light flush seeped into Grant’s pale face, providing all the answer Cole needed.

  “She must have taken the steps back down.” Cole tapped his fingers against the sill.

  He heard Emma approach, but ignored her as he took a threatening step toward Grant. “What are you doing here?”

  Emma gasped. He took that as a sign she didn’t care for his icy tone. Well, too damn bad. It was well past time for answers. The pieces were coming together, and the picture painted neither Grant nor Cherise in a positive light.

  Grant’s eyes darted from Cole to Emma and lingered. What the hell? Cole stepped back, turning slightly so he could observe them both. Kyle took a step toward Grant. Joey maintained his post near the door.

  “I received a message from the old man.” Grant continued to stare at Emma.

  “From Alistair? And you didn’t tell anyone?” Cole ran his hand along his jaw. Of course, the other man had told no one. Hadn’t he warned Emma that Grant couldn’t be trusted? Neither can Emma, the voice in his head whispered. He shook off the unwelcome thought. “What did he want?”

  “He wanted me to come here. Beyond that”—he focused on Cole—“ask Emma what she has that Alistair wants.”

  Cole glanced at Emma to see her frozen in place. Grant’s words mixed with remnants of the doubt Cherise—and the drugs—had planted in Paris, and he struggled to separate truth from lies.

  “What makes you think she has anything that crazy old man wants?” Hadn’t Cole suspected she was holding back, that there was a reason she’d been followed to the island?

  Grant smiled coldly. “She told me.”

  Color drained from Emma’s face.

  Cole took a step toward her and stopped, searching her features for the truth. The guilt written on her face confirmed his fear that he’d been played. Yet, he had to ask. “Emma?”

  She stood silent, her hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets, shoulders hunched. Cole’s stomach plummeted. He’d suspected she had secrets. He’d known she had a history with Grant. Why was he blindsided that she would trust those secrets to Grant, but not him?

  Grant eyes glittered. “It’s true. She’s put us all in danger with her lies.”

  Emma flinched, but her eyes remained steady on Cole. She lifted her chin. “That’s not exactly…Jacob sent me something. It’s in a safe place. I…I wanted to tell you…”

  All this time, she’d been lying to him but confiding in Grant. Cole’s icy calm melted under the rising flame of anger.

  He lunged for Grant, grabbing him by the shirt front and slamming him back against the wall. “Where is the bastard?” He tightened his hold on Grant’s shirt, twisting it tight against the other man’s throat.

  Grant offered no resistance. His gaze locked on Emma.

  “Stop it!” she cried.

  Cole’s anger hardened into cold, determined rage. Hand at Grant’s throat, he asked her tightly, “What do you have that Alistair wants?”

  Silence.

  “What do you have that the old man wants?” Cole bit out each word, his head turned toward Emma while he maintained his stranglehold on Grant.

  “I have information. On a chip.” Her unnaturally quiet voice faded to nothing under Cole’s glare.

  Kyle cursed under his breath.

  “Where is it?” Cole slammed Grant against the wall and released him, turning to fully face her.

  “I…” She paused, staring past Cole at Grant. “I can’t tell you.” She looked into Cole’s eyes, tormented, yet resolute as she lifted her chin. “It’s not here.” She shrugged. “That’s all I can say.”

  He’d brought a traitor into the team. Again.

  A cold, brittle shell formed around his heart as he turned his back on her anguish. He needed to contain the damage from his lamentable lapse in judgment. They were wasting time looking for Cherise. Alistair was the true target.

  “Where is he?” He took a threatening step back toward Grant. “You say you want to help, that you’re on our side. Where is he?”

  Grant held up his hand, his face pale, his breathing still ragged. “I’ll tell you. Just…don’t tell him I told you. He’s in the basement apartment.”

  Cole turned to Joey and Kyle. “Let’s go.”

  The men rushed to the door.

  “Cole, wait!” Emma’s cry went unheeded.

  Joey opened the door. He and Kyle hustled out and summoned the elevator, but before Cole could join them, Emma grabbed his arm, stopping him in the doorway.

  “Cole, you don’t understand.” He felt the bite of her nails through his coat sleeve as she clung to his arm.

  He grabbed her hand and forced it away along with his emotions. “No, Emma, I understand just fine. You’ve always been clear that Jacob comes first with you.”

  The ding of the elevator signaled its arrival.

  He hesitated. “Maybe one of us should stay here with you and Grant. To be safe…”

  “No.” She shook her head and stepped back, the torment in her eyes suddenly shuttered. “It’s safer if you go together. Grant and I will be fine here.” She glanced over her shoulder at the other man.

  Controlling a surge of anger, he said tersely, “Lock the door behind me.” He searched her now impassive face. “When I return, we’ll discuss the chip.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Still he lingered, torn between the desire to get away from her and the need to stay.

  “Cole!” Kyle called from the elevator.

  “Lock the door behind me,” he repeated harshly.

  As he started to turn away, Emma lunged forward, grasping handfuls of his jacket and pressing a surprisingly frantic kiss against his lips. “I love you,” she whispered fier
cely and then pushed him away, retreating into the penthouse, and slamming the door shut.

  For a long moment after he heard the deadbolt slide into place, he stared at the door. She was confusing him again. And right now, he needed to remain focused.

  Fist clenched, he ran to join Joey and Kyle in the elevator.

  It was past time to deal with a monster.

  …

  Inside the condo, Emma leaned her forehead against the door, her hands splayed across the heavy wood, seeking any lingering connection to Cole. She took a shuddering breath, straightened, and pushed herself upright. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d suffered—the lies and half-truths, the fear—it was all about to end. Because despite what Cole believed, she hadn’t told Grant about the microchip. That meant either Jacob or the person from whom he’d originally stolen the chip had told him.

  The way things were playing out, it was a safe bet it wasn’t Jacob.

  Slowly, she turned to face the room. A distinguished older man she knew only from photographs stood next to Grant.

  “Hello Emma.” The man stepped forward into the center of the room. “How nice it is to finally meet you. I grew rather tired of waiting behind the false wall panel we had installed.” He chuckled. “That man, Joey, never even suspected. And Cole? Well, it’s most convenient that the effects of the drug haven’t completely worn off. I do believe his anger was a bit out of proportion with the situation, don’t you agree?”

  She stepped away from the door, refusing to be cowed. “Hello, Alistair,” she said casually, refusing to show him a deference he didn’t deserve.

  Dressed in a pair of tailored, charcoal pants and a forest green, cashmere sweater, and commanding the space in which he stood, Alistair might have been welcoming her into his home if not for the gun he held pointed at her heart.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the door, my dear.”

  Emma took another step into the room. She prayed it wouldn’t take Cole long to question her strange behavior and realize she’d been sending him a message—prayed that, despite everything, he’d sense something was off.