by Julie Miller
“You’ve heard of him?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen any of the actor’s films, but I know the name. That’s the code name Marcus Tucker’s security team uses whenever they’re escorting a high-profile client in or out of the country for the company. Like Mr. Watanabe, who was at the party last night. The security detail referred to him as Mr. Greenstreet.” Claire looked up at A.J. “Is that helpful?”
He looked at Powers, who looked at Banning, who looked at Josh. When Josh completed the circle of unspoken suspicion, A.J. connected the dots out loud.
“Maybe Ms. Justice was doing a little escorting of her own. It’d be a perfect way to smuggle Galvan in and out of the country to do his work.”
“WHERE’S MY daughter?”
A.J. heard Cain Winthrop’s bellow through the closed door of the conference room, and quickly glanced down at Claire to see if she’d heard him, too.
But she was still defending the man to him and Dwight Powers. “I don’t think my father would do any of the things you’re suggesting. He wouldn’t sell drugs. He’d go bankrupt before he’d allow his company to be used that way.”
“Your father isn’t the only one with access to the 26th floor,” Powers reminded her. “It could have been another Winthrop board member who was in that room with Galvan. That’s why I recommend a safe house. All the suspects in this case know you.”
Finally, Powers was saying something A.J. could agree with. Claire needed to be locked up, away from her family and so-called friends, away from their influence. Until Galvan was off the streets, and his accomplice identified, she wasn’t safe, even in her own home.
“I want to see Rodriguez!” So, Daddy Winthrop remembered his name. Though A.J. doubted Claire’s father had made the connection between the new detective and the old custodian yet.
“I don’t care who the hell you are,” another voice barked. “You’ll follow procedure, or you’re either out of my precinct or in my jail cell.” Captain Taylor was getting into it out in the main room now. A.J. kept his gaze carefully focused so as not to alert Claire to the confrontation.
“I can’t believe that.” Her fingers reached for her hair and first tucked it behind, then fanned it out over her ear. “The members of the board are friends, family. None of them would want to hurt me.”
Screw denying Josh’s suspicions about him having feelings for Claire. A.J. took her hand and laced their fingers together, offering her something to cling to besides her own doubts and fears. Her strong, eloquent fingers latched on and held tight.
A.J. squeezed, trying to soften the impact of his words. “You didn’t believe that anyone could want to hurt Valerie, either.”
Claire’s hand went cold in his grasp. “You’re saying that someone in my own family…? That someone who was at my home last night hired Galvan to kill me today?”
The bruises on her wrist and collarbone—where that bastard had hit her, shoved her, strangled her—seemed to darken before A.J.’s eyes. The attack had scared the hell out of him, and left him seething with an anger he hadn’t felt since his father’s senseless death. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles in lieu of reaching out to touch one of her injuries and apologize for ever letting her out of his sight.
“We’re suggesting it’s a strong possibility.”
“That’s why I’m having Josh make the arrangements to put you in a safe house under twenty-four-hour watch,” Powers added. “If you’ve got a better idea of who brought Galvan to Kansas City and that list of whom else he wants to kill, I’m listening.”
Claire stood in mute shock, considering the change her life was about to take. No school until this was over. No contact with her family. They were taking the sheltered princess out of the castle she’d known her whole life and sticking her in a nondescript house in an uneventful part of town, with no servants, no outside contact and—this was the part A.J. suspected would drive her stir-crazy—no chance to help her kids at Forsythe.
A firm rap at the door signaled to A.J. that the confrontation with her father was about to come inside. Reluctantly, he released Claire’s hand. This was not going to go well. “Your father’s here.”
Captain Taylor opened the door and stuck his head inside. “You ready for this, Rodriguez? The man has the right to see his daughter.”
A.J. simply nodded.
The captain backed out of the doorway and Cain Winthrop charged inside. “Where is she? Is she all right? Claire?”
“Daddy?” Without hesitation, Claire ran to him.
“Sweetie. Thank God you’re all right.” The white-haired man in the three-piece suit scooped her up in a hug and held on tight.
The way a father should, A.J. thought silently, relieved to see the happy reassurance in Claire’s expression. Winthrop held his daughter close and rocked her back and forth, the way a criminal keeps his enemy close at hand, he thought with less charity.
It was a cruel scenario to consider—a father marking his own flesh and blood for death. Sacrificing what he claimed to love so that his business would thrive and his butt would stay out of prison.
A.J. had seen worse than that in his time. But what was really sticking in his craw now was the idea of how much further out of range a relationship with Claire would be if he wound up having to arrest her father.
He shouldn’t even go there. He was already too old for her, too working-class and—he could make a pretty good guess—too experienced. Any one of those factors should dissuade him from thinking anything lusty or tender or remotely personal about Claire. Factor in that the people she cared about were the people he was investigating, and a relationship just wasn’t gonna happen.
“You.” Claire dropped to her feet and pushed her way around her father. Marcus Tucker filled the doorway, his unsmiling eyes taking in the flush of her cheeks and the primly upraised index finger that was about to point out the error of his ways. “I thought you were supposed to be some crackerjack security expert. But your men allowed a known criminal—a murderer, no less—to get inside a building with nearly two hundred innocent children. I thought you were supposed to stop Galvan, not let him endanger my kids.”
A.J. twisted his lips together, resisting the urge to cheer her on. Man, he loved that sassy temper of hers. She wasn’t such a lady through and through, the way first impressions might indicate. He’d planned to lambaste Tucker about how royally his men had screwed up their protection detail. But Claire, who was half the size of Marcus Tucker, had the situation well in hand.
“If A.J. hadn’t been there to scare him off, who knows what might have happened.”
“I’m sorry you were hurt, Miss Winthrop,” Tucker apologized, his voice a monotone of rehearsed words that lacked sincerity in A.J.’s point of view. “But mistakes happen. I assure you, they will not happen again. I intend to personally oversee your safety from here on out.”
“Too little, too late, don’t you think?”
Cain laid a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Rodriguez saved your life?”
“Yes.” Though Claire couldn’t pick up on the distant, almost confused tone that had quieted his voice considerably, Winthrop must have conveyed something in his touch. She turned to face him, a question drawing fine lines beside her eyes. “A.J. was the one who came down to the basement to get me, not Mr. Tucker’s men. What is it, Dad?”
A.J. held his relaxed stance as Cain looked at him, searching his face as if really seeing him for the first time. Was a familiar connection trying to click into place inside his memory?
“Rodriguez.” Cain mouthed the name, frowned. Then, before anyone could comment on his strangely distracted behavior, the CEO sucked in a deep breath that pinched his nostrils. He swung around toward Tucker, coming back to the moment, clearly steamed at his employee. “I thought I told you to assign bodyguards to Claire.”
“I did.” Tucker puffed up to his full height, reminding everyone he was the biggest man in the room. “A four-man team—two in u
niform, two in plainclothes. Stationed inside and outside the building.”
A.J. wasn’t intimidated by bluster. “Who were nowhere to be found when Galvan showed up.”
Cain wasn’t too pleased with the truth. “Is that right?”
“He’s a tricky man to spot, Mr. Winthrop. My men must have been on patrol. I ordered them to do periodic sweeps of the grounds and the school building. One of them was to have your daughter in view at all times.”
“And with all that searching and viewing, Galvan still got to her?” Uh-oh. Daddy was ticked off at Tucker’s incompetence.
“Look at that bruise on her arm, sir. Apparently, Detective Rodriguez didn’t spot him in time, either.”
“I don’t pay Rodriguez to protect my daughter!”
“Placing blame serves no purpose here, gentlemen.” Now Powers wanted to get into the verbal fray?
Claire stood between Tucker and Winthrop, her palms on her father’s chest, trying to urge him away from a fight. “Dad, please. I’m fine. Really.”
A.J.’s chest drifted forward, every protective instinct in his body set to reach in and pull her out from the middle of the argument. But Cain beat him to it.
Ignoring her protest, Claire’s father grasped her by the shoulders and tucked her to his side. “I pay you a hell of a lot more than you’re worth, Tucker, if you can’t keep my baby girl safe.”
“If she hadn’t insisted on maintaining her usual routine—”
“Your men screwed up.”
“I take full responsibility—”
“Fire them.”
The order shut Tucker up for a moment. Just long enough to set his lantern jaw and curl his bottom lip into nonexistence. “Those are my men, Mr. Winthrop. I will deal with them in my way.”
“Do I still pay your salary?” Cain asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Fire. Them.” Cain Winthrop was a man used to having his own way. “Come along, Claire. I’ll take you home.”
She twisted out of his grasp and backed a step toward A.J. “I can’t go with you.”
“Of course you can.” He reached for her hand. “We’ll send someone for your car.”
She tugged herself free and retreated another step. Automatically, A.J. put out his hand to warn her of his presence behind her. His fingers brushed against the back of her waist and stayed when she didn’t startle or flinch away. “I rode with A.J., but that’s not the point.”
Dwight Powers made the point. “She’s going to a safe house.”
“She’s not going to testify against Galvan.”
“Yes, I am!”
Cain wiggled his fingers in a “come here” gesture. “No. You will come home and—”
“I’m not your baby girl anymore.”
Bam.
Silence filled the room, consuming the oxygen and replacing it with tension. A.J. felt the cost of Claire’s defiance clenching in the small of her back. He flattened his palm at the spot, offering his unspoken support. With an infinitesimal movement, she leaned into the brace of his hand and something shifted inside him. At that moment, a bond was forged, one that A.J. would never willingly break.
Claire had allied herself with him. Against her father’s control. Against Marcus Tucker’s incompetence. Against a Central American hit man and a mysterious, so-called friend who wanted her dead.
If his fingers curled a little farther around the nip of her waist to turn the friendly contact into something more personal, he couldn’t help it. A. J. Rodriguez wasn’t a man who did anything halfway.
Oddly enough, Claire was the one to break the silence. She started signing, though she hadn’t used her hands to speak until now. “I haven’t been a baby for years. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. If it’s the wrong one, then you have to let me live with my mistake. And learn from it. You have to let me grow up.”
“I know. It’s just that…” Cain lifted his hands and began to sign slowly, as if his fingers were rusty from disuse. “You remind me so much of your mother. I didn’t do a very good job taking care of her. I promised myself I’d do better by you.”
“Then let me do this. It’s the right thing. You know it. You know Valerie’s gone. And I can help put away the man who killed her.”
Winthrop flinched, as if his daughter’s words had struck a nerve. But just as quickly, his expression grew stern. “It’s too dangerous. If this decision is a mistake, it could cost you your life.”
“I’m not planning on dying, Dad.” She smiled a serene reassurance that almost had A.J. believing they had nothing to worry about.
“But you saw Galvan’s face. He’s tried to kill you once already.”
Marcus Tucker apparently saw an opportunity to redeem himself. “I will guard her myself, sir. Use every man and precaution at my disposal. I’ll make this right.”
Cain dropped his hands to his sides. “Somehow, Marcus, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“KCPD will be handling Claire’s security,” Dwight Powers confirmed. “So that we don’t risk any communication leaks—however inadvertent,” he added for Tucker’s benefit. “We don’t want Winthrop Enterprises involved.”
Marcus protested the issue being taken out of his hands. “My team—”
“Shut up, Tucker.” Cain dismissed the burly security chief and turned his attention to A.J. “Are you in charge of this safe house?”
“I’ll be one of the men assigned to it, yes.”
Winthrop stroked a finger across Claire’s cheek. “She’s never been away from me for more than a few days at a time. When she was sick, I stayed at the hospital with her. Even when she was at college, I saw her nearly every weekend.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Winthrop, this isn’t about you.”
He felt Claire catch and hold her breath as Winthrop’s gaze dropped to her waist, taking note of A.J.’s hand on his daughter. But he made no indication of displeasure or approval. “No, it isn’t. Keep her safe, Antonio.”
He lifted his gaze and looked dead-on into A.J.’s eyes. A.J.’s grip tightened around Claire’s waist, the only outward indication of the emotions coursing through him he allowed. “You know who I am?”
“I know who your father was. A good man.”
“Yes, sir, he was.”
“He was more than a custodian, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Winthrop paused. “His death was tragic. So unexpectedly tragic.”
Was that sympathy? Or a warning of some kind?
The possible answer left A.J. raw and unsettled. He kneaded an unconscious rhythm against the flare of Claire’s hip, until her small, strong hand covered his. Her touch calmed his body, but even that deliberate physical contact couldn’t staunch the questions and suspicions spilling from his soul.
But Cain either wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about it. Tempting A.J. with just enough information to make him anxious to learn more, Cain leaned in, kissed Claire and pulled her away from A.J. for one more hug. “Just keep my baby…keep my daughter safe.”
“YOUR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS are up. Your plan failed.”
The man with the long fingers disentangled himself from the naked woman in his bed and climbed out from beneath the covers to take the call in relative privacy. He stood at the hotel window, pulled aside the curtain and looked out the Liberty Memorial, spotlighted against the starless night atop the next hill. He lifted his gaze to the eternal flame that burned atop the columnar structure and wondered how much longer he’d have to endure the peculiarities of his hired assassin.
“I told you not to call me.”
“I don’t care about your little tryst. She’s not the woman I’m worried about.”
He glanced back over his shoulder at the sleepy woman, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she sat up and let the covers slide down to her waist. His body stirred at the intentional display of bare breasts. She was willing to do anything for him. Or, more accurately, for the money and power he could share with
her.
She’d come as soon as he called, to be with him for a few hours before daylight and the next phase of his well-orchestrated plan fell into place. He’d needed the sex, needed to get the frustration of a very trying day out of his system.
He didn’t need to be dealing with Galvan’s muck-up. He turned back to the Memorial. “Ramon Goya is sending a shipment along with the coffee we’re bringing in from Tenebrosa tomorrow. I need to be able to tell him we can distribute all of the product without any interference. How are you coming with the last two names on the list?”
“You do not understand, compadre. There is no one else on the list until I finish this job. I have my reputation to protect. The Winthrop bitch is cozier with the cops than ever now. Trying to spook her did no good.”
“You took it too far.”
“I didn’t take it far enough. I should have snapped her neck and been done with it. But you wanted to play games. She isn’t changing her story, and now that cop is attached to her at the hip.”
“I’m not worried about Rodriguez. He’s just a man. He has a weakness we can exploit if we have to. I’m not worried about Claire’s testimony, either.”
“It wasn’t your face she picked out of a police report.”
“Darling? Are you coming back to bed?” The woman’s voice jarred against his ears. “I’ll have to leave soon.”
“And you know damn well, compadre, that if anything happens to me, yours will be the first name on my lips.”
The man with the long fingers headed back to the bed to assuage more of his frustrations.
He was losing his taste for such decisions. Who’d have thought getting rid of a glorified secretary could cause so much trouble? Killing Valerie had been a matter of silencing a team member who’d unexpectedly developed a conscience. But for an extra quarter of a million dollars, she’d find a way to keep her mouth shut. He didn’t need to live with that kind of blackmail. He didn’t need the inside information she’d once provided for him. The woman in his bed would see to that now.
All he needed was for Ramon Goya to be happy. And to do that, he needed Galvan to finish the job he’d been hired to do.