Stacking the Deck (Redemption Club Book 1)

by Anne Marie Becker

  Loretta squared her shoulders. “Someone’s coming for us, aren’t they?”

  He sneered. “They were, but I’m taking care of it. It all worked out quite nicely, actually. Your debt has been paid. Not only did you lead me to Skye Hamilton—a very fine specimen who will make a superb addition to your pathetic group,” he added, his smile growing as Loretta’s face paled with fear and surprise, “but your father already paid for your mistakes.”

  Her eyes widened and she glanced toward the door as if she’d see her father walking right through it to take her home. “H-how?”

  “With his life.”

  As Loretta crumpled to the ground, Chelsea lunged at him and shoved at his shoulders. “You bastard!”

  Finn knocked her away and she fell on her ass in the dirt in front of Loretta.

  Loretta’s howl of grief echoed in the small room. “No! You didn’t. You couldn’t have…”

  He crouched next to her. “Very good, baby. You could have made it in Hollywood after all. Everyone says you need a well of painful experience to draw from if you’re going to get the big parts. Too bad only a handful of people will get to see the show. But they’ll pay a hell of a lot of money for a ticket.”

  Jared showered as he contemplated his options for finding Chelsea, and for handling the new partnership with Skye. Thankful for a day he wouldn’t have to wear a suit and tie, he pulled on a pair of jeans, soft with wear, and a plain T-shirt and headed for the kitchen. There, he spied the most beautiful sight he’d ever woken to, even as the woman in his field of vision shot a hateful glare at his coffeemaker.

  She’d pulled her hair back into a messy bun, securing it with a rubber band. A few strands hung down around her face. They caught the light coming in through the kitchen window and glinted like threads of honey nestled in warm chocolate. She’d politely refused to borrow his sisters’ clothes without their permission, and the T-shirt he’d found for her to sleep in hung to mid-thigh. Her long legs were bare, as were her feet.

  He stopped and swallowed hard.

  She caught him staring and turned her glare on him. “Could you get a more complicated brewer?” At least this time the sparks of blue fire in her eyes were directed at the situation and not at him—or so he hoped.

  Stepping closer, he reached past her to press a couple of buttons. He hid a grin when she scooted a few inches away. His little rabbit wanted to flee again, but he wouldn’t let her undo the progress they’d made last night. “I take it you’re not a morning person.”

  “What, did you discover that during your research into my background?”

  “No.” He leaned back against the counter, weighing the anger in her voice with the fear in her eyes. Was she worried what he’d think about her now that he had more information? “But I do know that your library history shows you’re an avid reader. I’m guessing you were self-taught in almost every subject. That takes dedication, and intelligence.”

  The emotion in her eyes turned to wariness. She seemed uncomfortable with the compliment. “Uncle Tom liked living off the grid as much as possible.”

  “He must not have liked you choosing a job that would take you away from the ranch, then, let alone one that puts your life at risk.” He turned to reach into the cupboard behind him for a mug. She’d have to reach past him to get her own mug, and he took some perverse pleasure in testing her.

  She frowned. “He didn’t like it, but he doesn’t know the details, either. He’s always warning me not to draw attention to myself.”

  “Is he paranoid, or a conspiracy theorist or something?”

  “My father was the same way. Cautious. Suspicious. I figure it’s a hereditary trait.”

  The coffeepot was nearly full, the aroma of the fresh brew awakening all the senses, and she looked past him longingly toward the cupboard. Then she caught the smile that was tugging at his mouth and rolled her eyes. With a determined set of her shoulders, she began to step around him.

  “Chicken,” he said softly. He instantly regretted his taunt when the gleam in her eyes turned calculating. She shifted closer to him and his entire body tightened with anticipation. Would she dare?

  She would. She leaned her length against him and reached up past his shoulder to the cupboard handle. “Excuse me.”

  But he couldn’t go anywhere. He didn’t want to. Holy hell, he could feel her nipples pressing through both her shirt and his. One hand still held his coffee mug, but his empty hand went to her hip and held her in place. She had to feel how aroused he was. The evidence was pressing urgently against the zipper of his jeans. His fingers twitched with the desire to slide just a few inches lower, to the edge of the shirt she wore—his shirt—and stroke the skin beneath.

  Keep it light, his brain warned. Don’t scare her off now.

  “You’re excused.” He shot her a cocky grin and slapped her ass lightly.

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but whatever retort she’d been about to sling at him died on her tongue. Her nostrils flared as she took in a sudden breath, and the blue of her eyes deepened to indigo. A savvy soldier like Skye might think she could use her body as a weapon, but any kind of weapon could backfire, could be turned against the person wielding it. She was just as aroused as he was.

  But she pushed away and retreated a couple steps.

  He took mercy on her, and himself, and handed her the mug he’d already taken down, then turned to get a new one. She poured her coffee and replaced the pot, stepping around the kitchen island without offering him any, as if she needed the distance between them as much as she needed the caffeine.

  He enjoyed flustering her—even if it was killing him slowly and painfully.

  She eyed him warily over the rim of her cup. “I plan to spend the morning retracing Loretta’s steps again. When she left the ranch, she took one of Mark’s credit cards with her. It was used in a Hollywood convenience store about a week after her disappearance. The night you found me in Malibu, she used it in Vegas.”

  “Logical to follow that trail, then.”

  Skye frowned into her coffee cup. “Yeah, except it hasn’t led anywhere. Nobody has let me see the surveillance recordings. And nobody anywhere seems to have seen her.”

  “Why didn’t you approach Stone directly?”

  “I tried. Couldn’t get past his assistant. And the more I asked questions about the man, the quieter people got. It was eerie. It’s almost as if people don’t just respect him, they’re—”

  “Afraid of him?” Jared nodded. “I got the same feeling.”

  “That’s why you took a job with the man, to get close to him.”

  “Yes. He’s very private. And I didn’t find anything that made me believe he would have kidnapped a woman, or two women, and done them harm. I mean, the guy can get female companionship any time he wants, with little effort.”

  Skye sighed and set down her cup. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? It’s like the Latin phrase Loretta put in her note.”

  “Latin?”

  “Yeah. Mark said Loretta never took Latin in school. She wasn’t exactly the studious type, so I assumed she picked it up somewhere recently.” Skye quoted the phrase. “It means something like live fearlessly and play ferociously.”

  Jared grunted. “Sounds like the motto for a rich playboy.”

  “But you’ve never heard it before? Maybe Stone said it, or wrote it somewhere?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, haven’t heard it.”

  Jared’s phone rang and he moved to answer it as Skye went to refill her mug.

  “I’ve got news for you,” Dev said after Jared’s greeting.

  “About Chelsea?” In Jared’s periphery, Skye’s body turned toward him as she overheard.

  “Sorry, no. About the attack on the ranch. Two bits of news, actually.”

  “Hit me.”

  “You asked me to look up the deed on the ranch and it’s actually owned by three men. Well, two men, seei
ng as one’s deceased.”

  “That makes the ranch name make more sense.”

  “Yeah. What’s more interesting is who Tom Hamilton co-owned the ranch with. David Wilson is dead, and I haven’t tracked down the new owner of his share yet.”

  “And the other?” Jared asked, losing patience.

  “Robert Stone.”

  “And the other bit of news?”

  “An unconscious man was admitted to the Flagstaff Medical Center early this morning in critical condition. His last known residence was Three Fortunes Ranch.”

  His eyes flicked to Skye and held. She shifted her weight, eager to hear what he was learning. “Who was it?”

  Dev gave him all the information he had, and when Jared turned to Skye, she must have read the concern in his expression.

  She set her cup down and straightened as if bracing herself for bad news. “What?”

  “That was Dev. I had him look into a couple things for me.”

  “And?”

  “First, the deed to the ranch. When you said Stone went to talk to your uncle, something about that seemed odd. I decided to research the deed. Apparently, your uncle was only co-owner at Three Fortunes. There really were three fortunes that came together to purchase the land.”

  A furrow creased her forehead. “That’s news to me. Who else?”

  “Tom Hamilton, David Wilson—who is now deceased—and Robert Stone.”

  Her lips pressed together for a long moment as she digested the information. “Stone and my uncle have known each other for decades, then.” She sank onto a barstool. “I don’t understand.” Her uncle had obviously never mentioned a link to Robert Stone. “But maybe that’s why he didn’t want me bringing up the past?” She cursed. “And Tom won’t call me back to discuss any of this.”

  “There’s more. One of the men from the ranch turned up this morning at Flagstaff Medical Center. It’s not your uncle,” he quickly added. “We’ve kept in touch with authorities there and they informed us—”

  “Who was hurt?”

  “His name is Leonard St. Vincent.”

  “Viper.” The name was an exhalation of breath. Concern flashed across her features. “What happened? How is he?”

  “He’d been stabbed and beaten pretty bad. A neighboring rancher apparently found him on his land, unconscious and nearly dead.”

  Skye’s hand went to her forehead. “We have to go to him.”

  “It would put you out in the open again.”

  “Shit.”

  Jared watched the play of emotions across her expressive face as she considered the ramifications and consequences of each possible course of action. The woman hid a lot, but when someone she cared about was in danger, she threw away all caution.

  A need rose up inside, the need to have her think of him that way, as if he were someone she cared about.

  “Stone, or whoever wants me for their damn redemption, might follow,” she conceded. “Or it might be a trap.”

  Those had been his thoughts, exactly, but he could see how important this was to her, and it would give them the chance to look for more clues at Three Fortunes.

  “We’ll go together,” Jared said. “Consider me your new bodyguard, courtesy of Global Security Solutions.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Gratitude shone in her eyes.

  To cover his sudden yearning to fulfill her every dream, he forced himself to turn away and grab his phone. “Of course. We’re partners now, remember?”

  She frowned. “Anyone close to me tends to end up dead, missing, or seriously injured.”

  “Give me some credit.” He winked to lighten her mood, but her scowl deepened.

  “When can we leave?”

  “A few minutes, just long enough to pack an overnight bag.” He rinsed their cups in the sink.

  “I need to change anyway. Can’t exactly go road-tripping in this, or in my cocktail dress. We need to stop by my motel and grab my things.”

  He set the coffee mugs in the dishwasher, surprised when he sensed Skye come up behind him. She lifted a hand to his shoulder and brushed it lightly, her touch gone almost before it registered. “Thank you.” Her bare feet padded softly across the tile floor as she hastily retreated.

  His skin still burned from the contact. The yearning was back, threefold.

  “Dev was okay with you taking off like this?” Skye asked as they turned onto US 93, heading south into Arizona. They’d left her clunker in Jared’s garage in favor of using his car for the four-hour drive to Flagstaff.

  Jared’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “He’s had to put up with it for weeks. But he agrees finding Chelsea is a priority. And I’d do the same for him if the tables were turned.”

  “Must be nice to work with a friend who understands.” She turned in the passenger seat to examine him. He inspired loyalty from others where she couldn’t even get her uncle to be honest with her. How could he have been so close to a man like Robert Stone that they’d purchased a ranch together? And how had he kept such a thing a secret for over twenty years? But it did explain, maybe, why Stone had leverage over her uncle—enough that Stone could demand Tom kick her off the ranch. She hoped Uncle Tom called her back soon because she had a million questions for him.

  Jared grunted. “He’s certainly taken on more than his fair share of work this past month.”

  “How’d you come to form GSS with him?”

  “We met in Afghanistan, while I was in the Army.”

  She smiled. “I had a feeling you were military. Dev was a soldier, too?”

  “No.” Something undefined flitted across his expression, but he didn’t elaborate. “I worked as an MP—a military policeman. I got out because it was time to come home. My sisters were growing up, the younger one, Haley, getting into more mischief than her aunt can handle.”

  “Her aunt?”

  “Chelsea, Haley and I have three different fathers. Aunt Jane is Haley’s father’s sister. Haley’s father never wanted anything to do with her, but his sister was willing to step up when our mother died. Anyway, Jane took in Haley and Chelsea, until Chelsea was old enough to move into an apartment with friends. Jane was threatening to put Haley out on the street if I didn’t come back.”

  Skye gasped. “Would she have?” She couldn’t imagine what would have happened to her if her uncle hadn’t taken her in. She’d have become a ward of the state, she supposed. She felt pain when Tom had told her to leave, but to be a young girl like Haley, dependent on an adult who didn’t want you, would be a lot more frightening.

  He shrugged. “Jane was at the end of her rope. I received at least an email a day from her, begging me to come get Haley. She needed a handler.”

  And someone she could depend on, Skye suspected. A man like Jared who wouldn’t drug his kids just to keep them out of his way while he conducted business.

  “I missed my sisters,” Jared continued. “So, I applied for a discharge from the Army and moved back to Vegas.”

  “And bought a house big enough for all of you.” The room she’d slept in last night had a bed with clean sheets and a nearly empty dresser, as well as a few personal touches that were clearly feminine. Across the way, there’d been a similar room. Jared had occupied the master suite down the hall. “What happened to them living with you?”

  “Chelsea was already renting an apartment with a couple other girls and refused to move in with me. I was worried about her exotic dancing and probably gave her too much hell for it. It pushed her away.” He scowled at the road ahead. “Then, Jane caught wind of Chelsea’s job and changed her mind. Said she wouldn’t let Haley move in with me permanently until I proved I was settled and stable. I’d started to make progress there when Chelsea went missing.”

  Wanting a reprieve from thinking about Chelsea, Jared changed the subject. “Tell me about Viper.”

  Skye smiled softly. “He’s always been there for me. He’s a black belt and knows mor
e about defense techniques than anyone I’ve ever known. For someone to take him down like this…”

  “This Tristan guy who may have led the attack on your ranch must be a mean bastard to do this to him.” Before bed, he and Skye had done some searching online but had yet to find anything on a Tristan Floyd that matched Skye’s description.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her nibbling her bottom lip. He took a chance and reached over to lightly squeeze her jean-clad thigh. Before leaving Vegas, they’d stopped by her motel room so she could change and check out. He removed his hand before she could become uncomfortable with the gesture of support. “But Viper is obviously tough. He survived.”

  “You and Viper would have a lot in common, actually. He was an Army Ranger.”

  “I think I like him already.”

  She snorted. “He won’t like what you’ve done to me. Consider this fair warning.”

  He slid his sunglasses down his nose to meet her eyes. “And what exactly have I done to you?”

  “You stalked me and ended up leading the enemy to our home.” There was no heat in her accusation, and Jared sensed she blamed herself more than him.

  “I gave you space—”

  “When you weren’t trying to corner me in a bar, or in a study, or lure me to your home.”

  “Where I fed you a steak dinner—”

  “And tried to keep me from my morning coffee.” She tried to glare at him, but her lips twitched.

  He laughed. Damn, he liked the way she kept him on his toes. “Anybody ever tell you that you would make one hell of an attorney?”

  “Maybe once or twice.” She tucked one leg under her on the seat. “I don’t let anyone take advantage of me. Anyone,” she repeated, in case he hadn’t caught the warning in her words.

  “Duly noted. And for the record, Counselor, I’m glad you stand up for yourself. But sometimes letting someone stand by your side is more powerful.”