Grave Secrets_A Manhunters Novel
Page 18
She closed her eyes, remembering. In retrospect, Savannah believed Hank’s anger had stemmed from fear. Fear of being trapped in Hazard. Fear of living under his father’s thumb. But mostly, fear of being too weak to do anything about it.
“Hank’s always seen Jamison as a pawn,” Savannah said. “To gain his father’s approval, to control me. He has no desire to be a father to him, and as long as I’m around, he doesn’t have to be.”
A long moment of silence followed while they both got lost in their own thoughts. Savannah basked in the moment of having someone who cared about her ready to do battle on her behalf. Really do battle. Misty was supportive, but she didn’t have any more power in Hazard than Savannah did. Part of her even hoped that Misty’s hunch about Ian being part of a military special forces group was true, because then his claims of having friends in important places would also be true. And Savannah knew it would take people outside Hazard and Lyle’s influence to free her.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, glancing at his notes. “Ready to run screaming from the room yet?”
“More like ready to take Hank and Lyle into a dark alley.” He gestured to his notes on a spiral notepad Savannah had given him. “This is all good stuff, but we need to find something that will lift you outside the Hazard justice system so these threats will be heard.” He reached out and picked up the papers she’d sorted. “Tell me about these.”
“Hank had a joint bank account with Lyle that I didn’t know about. Lyle deposited money into it every month. The amounts varied, and at first, I thought Lyle was helping with our bills. But the numbers didn’t add up. It wasn’t long before I realized Lyle wouldn’t do anything for us out of the goodness of his heart. I suspected Hank was doing something for Lyle on the side, but I never could figure out what.” She met his gaze. “After I found those passports…”
Ian nodded. “Lyle is paying Hank to pick them up and deliver them to him.”
She shrugged and gestured to the bank statements. “Seems like a lot of money for such a small errand.”
“It wasn’t small.” Ian picked up the pile and skimmed the top statement. “By having Hank handle the passports, Lyle kept his hands clean. If anyone ever discovered the deal, Hank would be the only person physically connected with the passports. Lyle must believe he has sufficient control over Hank to keep him from implicating Lyle in the deal.”
“He does.” Savannah made a face. “It’s a skeezy kind of control. One that combines fear and power and money. Lyle has always known how to dig into all Hank’s fears.”
Ian’s finger slid down the page, his gaze searching line items. “That’s because Lyle planted and cultivated every one of them while Hank was growing up.”
“So true.” Savannah was in a daily battle to keep Hank and Lyle from planting and cultivating the same bad seeds in Jamison.
While Ian looked through the papers, Savannah distracted herself by focusing on Ian. On the way his hair felt sliding through her fingers. The way her fingers could smooth away the fine lines radiating from the corner of his eyes. The texture of his skin. The fullness of his bottom lip.
“Baby.” He curled his fingers around hers and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss without looking away from the papers. “You’re distracting me.”
“I’m trying,” she said, pressing a kiss to his temple, then his cheekbone, then his jaw, while Ian turned pages. “Really hard.” She let her hand skim across the soft cotton covering his hard abdomen, then fall to the waistband of his jeans, where she worked the button open. “Really, really hard.”
His lips curved in a smile. “It’s working really, really well.”
She hummed against the skin just below his ear. He would be such an easy man to love. He was warm and kind and strong. Determined and tenacious and intelligent. And he cared. Yes, he’d also lied. But she didn’t know the circumstances of that lie. Nor did she know if he’d been part of the team Misty had discovered. She wasn’t going to make assumptions until she had all the information. And she’d get it. Just not right now. Right now, she wanted to bask in his compassionate attention. They had plenty of time to sort out the potentially sketchy details of their pasts.
Savannah slipped her hand beneath his shirt and stroked his ripped abs as Ian turned another page.
His body tensed. “What’s this?”
Savannah lifted her head from his shoulder to see what he was looking at—two sheets of names and dates. “I don’t know. I never figured it out. It was from a notebook Hank kept in the safe. One of those accounting journals.”
His gaze pivoted to hers. “A ledger?”
“I guess that’s what they’re called. I recognized the names of guys who worked at the mine at the time, so I took photocopies in case I figured out what it was for. But I never did.”
“I might know.” Excitement sparked in his eyes, and he sat forward, angling toward her. “It could be a list of people who got passports.”
She frowned down at the list, her mind working backward to sift through the names and piece together the backgrounds of the men. “Maybe…” She took the list from Ian. “I don’t know about Cutler and Bosniack, but Tandor, Wilson, and Hurt were all from Canada. Everyone Lyle offers into the work-visa program comes from Canada, though they’re not all Canadian. Many are immigrants from other places.”
A slow smile crossed Ian’s face. One that revealed a sharp, cunning intellect. He scanned the papers one more time, then set them aside and half rolled, half twisted toward her, covering her body with his. He expertly worked his hips between her thighs and smiled down at her. “All your hard work is going to pay off.”
“It is?”
“It is.” He dropped a kiss to the skin exposed in the vee in her T-shirt, then her collarbone, her throat, the side of her neck… Just like that, Savannah was on fire.
Ian’s mouth found its way to hers, and she fisted the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Then stroked all his warm skin and thick muscle.
He pulled his mouth from hers, breaking the spell. “Sure Jamison’s asleep?”
“He’s asleep, and he hasn’t woken in the night for months.”
Ian vaulted off the bed, then paused. “Can I close the door? Just to give myself an extra few seconds’ stopping power in case he does wake? I can’t grind to a halt on a dime with you.”
Savannah was touched he’d even think about it, let alone ask her for permission. She also liked the insinuation that she tested his control. “You can close it.”
He rolled back in bed with her in seconds. She was laughing when he cupped her face and kissed her silent. Savannah opened to him, and he took the invitation as if he’d been holding back for days.
By the time he broke the kiss, Savannah was completely intoxicated. With his knees flanking her hips, he sat back and dragged her shirt up and off. Then his hands slid over her shoulders, down her arms, across her stomach.
“If that ledger contains the names of the three passports we have pictures of”—he popped the button on her jeans—“with Hank’s fingerprints all over the ledger”—he tugged them down her thighs and off her legs, then planted his hands on either side of her head and grinned—“it will be the end of him.”
He leaned in and kissed her. Savannah struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “Wait, what?”
Ian eased his body against hers, kissing her neck.
“Ian?” she pushed at his shoulder. “Explain, please.”
“Crimes involving passport fraud are investigated by the Diplomatic Security Service, which is the federal law enforcement arm of the State Department. Federal crimes require federal prosecution. And federal prosecutors won’t give a shit who Hank and Lyle are or who they know.”
Smiling, he tapped her chin with a finger, then let it drop to her chest, sliding it between her breasts and clicking the clasp of her bra open. “His crimes just spilled over the borders of Hazard County and beyond his sphere of influence, beautiful.”
/> He dropped a kiss to her lips, her jaw, her neck.
Savannah’s eyes slid closed. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“I can’t think when you’re naked and touching me.”
She wanted nothing more in the moment than to let Ian have her any way he wanted her for the rest of the night. But even though her brain wasn’t working at full throttle, she was pretty sure this was a huge development.
“Ian.” She rolled to her side and pushed him to his back.
He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her on top of him. “Okay, I like this too. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
She started laughing. “Ian.”
He dropped his head back with a dramatic sigh. “Are you listening? Because I’m not going to say this again until you’ve thoroughly worn me out.” He didn’t wait to continue. “If we can get our hands on the ledger and do some research on the names, we can connect Hank to multiple federal crimes, and poof, he’s got bigger problems to worry about than whether you’re getting lucky with the hottest new guy in town.”
“And…what if we can’t get our hands on the ledger?”
Ian stared at the ceiling for a long, quiet second. “Let’s think positively.” In a flash, he sat up and flipped her to her back. He kissed her, then pulled back and looked down at her with a fresh sobriety. “Did Hank know you got into his safe and took these copies?”
“No.”
“Then he wouldn’t have felt the need to change the code.”
“True.”
“In the event he did change the code, there’s always safecracking.”
“Um…” A sense of unease snuck in.
“Do you remember it?” he asked. “The code?”
“Maybe,” she lied for a reason she couldn’t clearly pinpoint, but which probably circled around the threat of Ian breaking into not only Hank’s house but his safe. If Hank caught Ian, he’d kill him. Even if Ian got in and out without Hank knowing, just Hank’s suspicion would create trouble for Savannah and Jamison. “It’s been a long time.”
“Don’t worry about that now.” He lowered his head and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, then he kissed her. Kissed her again. And again.
Savannah was thinking how easily she could get used to being loved like this when Ian abruptly pulled back. He tightened his hands in her hair and met her gaze with a fierce, serious expression. “I’m crazy about you.” He searched her eyes a moment with a look she couldn’t quite read. “I want you to remember that.”
Nerves fluttered in her belly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He smiled, and the Ian she knew returned in a flash. “Not a damn thing.”
He leaned into one arm and used the other to stroke his hand down her belly before slipping his fingertips under the waistband of her panties and deep between her legs.
Excitement burned a path through her body and flipped Savannah’s mind to standby. She arched and moan, letting her worries fade into the background.
Everly chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched the front of the brothel. “Think she’ll come through?”
Roman lowered his night-vision binoculars. “I do.”
“Optimist,” she accused.
“Spoken like a true pessimist.” He lifted his binoculars again. “By the time I got done explaining her reality, it was all I could do to keep her from latching on to my leg on the way out. She’ll come through.”
Movement stirred on the porch.
“He’s on his way out,” Liam said from his car parked a few hundred yards down the street.
“So he is,” Roman murmured. He lowered his binoculars and glanced at Everly. “Ready to do this?”
She patted the left side of her bra, where she’d tucked the wireless USB reader. “All set.”
Bishop descended the stairs and got into his SUV. When his taillights disappeared down the street, Roman got out of the car. When Everly didn’t move, he cut a look her way.
“I’m going to let you open my door.” She batted her lashes at him. “Like the gentleman bringing his girl to a brothel for a three-way naturally would.”
“Naturally.”
He rounded the car to open Everly’s door. She slipped her arm through his and leaned into him as they crossed the street. “We’re going in.”
“Roger that,” Sam responded from his warm, cushy office in Whitefish. “Fingers warm and ready.”
Everly and Roman cut a look at each other, grinned, and shook their heads.
“Oblivious,” she said, earning a wider smile from Roman.
“Truly,” he agreed.
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.
At the front steps, they greeted the guards, who nodded a welcome to Roman. He opened his arms while one guard patted him down. Another guard instructed Everly to do the same.
“Well”—she gave her guard a sassy grin—“this is unexpected foreplay.”
He didn’t find her amusing and did a half-assed search before ushering them in the front door.
“I was hoping you’d come back.” The woman who stood from the lounge was incredibly young and even more beautiful. She approached them a little too quickly, drawing the disapproving gazes of two other women in the foyer. She slid her hands down Roman’s chest and glanced at Everly. “How nice, you brought a friend.” She returned her gaze to Roman. “That’ll cost extra.”
“Of course it will,” Roman said.
One of the other women sauntered up to Everly and took her hand, but her glare was narrowed in on Brandy. “It’s not your turn, sister.”
A spark of desperation flared in Brandy’s dark eyes.
“Sorry, sugar,” Everly said, drawing the woman’s gaze. “My man has a thing for Brandy.” She grinned and cupped the woman’s cheek. “But you can bet I’ll be angling for you next time.”
Mollified, the woman stepped back and let Brandy lead them upstairs. But the girl was acting nervous and squirrely, showing all the signs of panic. When they reached the landing between stairs, Roman grabbed Brandy’s arm and stopped her.
“Slow. Down,” he told her. “Remember what we talked about.”
The girl’s dark eyes darted between Roman and Everly.
“Take a breath,” Everly told her. “And focus.”
Brandy nodded and continued up the stairs at a slower pace. At the top of the stairs, another guard eyed them before Brandy led them into her bedroom. When she closed the door, she leaned back against it and whispered, “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Everly reached around her and locked the door.
“You can do this,” Roman encouraged her. “It’s almost done.”
“We’re in,” Everly told Sam and pulled the USB reader from her bra. Then she looked at Brandy. “Where’s the bracelet?”
She darted a look at Roman.
Everly turned to the dresser and started searching. This was why she didn’t do kids. They were so damned tedious, always needing reassurance and coddling. Making such stupid, impulsive decisions, all based on emotion. She simply didn’t have the patience for it.
“What’s she doing?” Brandy whined. That was another thing Everly hated—whining. “She’s messing things up.”
While Roman was trying to charm and cajole the bracelet’s location out of her, Everly pulled open the bottom drawer of the jewelry box on the dresser and pulled the USB bracelet from the velvet. “Got it.”
Brandy drew a breath to argue, but Roman covered her mouth with his hand.
Everly was happy to leave the teen to Roman. She pushed the male end of the USB into the reader. “It’s in.”
“I see it.” The frenzied clack of computer keys streamed across the earbud. “There’s a password. Hacking in.”
“Heads-up, lovebirds.” Liam’s voice came across the line. “He’s back. Just screeched to the curb.”
“Sam?” Everly nudged.
“Just another few seconds. There’s some weird encry
ption…”
Voices rose in the foyer.
“Don’t have a few seconds,” Everly said.
She pressed her ear to the door. The other women tried to coax Lyle into their beds while he was trying to tell them he wasn’t there for sex.
“I’m in,” Sam said.
“She’s with another client,” a man’s voice rang in the foyer. “I can check her room as soon as she’s free. I promise to call you the minute—”
“I can’t wait,” he said, his voice coming closer. “This is important.”
“Sam,” Everly said. “We’ve got about thirty seconds.”
“I’m aware,” he said with that I’m-going-as-fast-as-I-can clip in his voice.
A heavy knock came at the door. “Brandy,” Lyle called. “I need to see you.”
Brandy spun toward Roman, frantic. “Now what? If they find out, they’ll kill me.”
Roman opened his mouth to answer her, but Lyle knocked and bellowed again.
Everly gripped Brandy by the arms and gave her a little shake. “Do you want to live?” she whispered. When she nodded, Everly said, “Then tell him just a minute, you’re coming.” When the girl just kept staring at her with those big deer-in-the-headlights eyes, Everly said, “Now.”
On cue, Lyle knocked again, but this time, he pounded with the side of his fist and rattled the doorknob.
Brandy jumped. “J-just a minute, Lyle.” She looked at Everly, who nodded encouragement. “I’ll be right there.”
“Done.” Sam’s voice came over the line.
Everly tilted her head toward the door leading to the bathroom, and Roman headed that direction, unbuttoning his shirt. She stuffed the bracelet back into the bottom drawer of the jewelry box just as Lyle hammered the door again.
Everly gripped Brandy’s shoulders. “If you want out, make this good.”
She stepped behind the door and motioned for Brandy to open it.
Brandy was shaking as she turned the lock and opened the door, hiding Everly. “Hey, baby.” Her voice sounded smooth enough. This couldn’t have been the first time the girl had to pretend in a dicey situation. “Did you come back for seconds?”