“That’s good,” he said. “You’re really getting the hang of this.”
Olivia felt a small measure of pride at his compliment. At least she’d contributed a little something to the team. “I have a good teacher. Now how are we going to explain the lack of luggage?”
“We’re having our things sent…from Seattle,” he said. He reached in the back seat for their shopping bags. “That should take some time. And later we can tell them the moving van was in an accident and all our things were destroyed.”
Olivia nodded. In truth, she was relieved they’d be sleeping in a decent place tonight. She imagined a long bath and a warm bed. She’d had precious little sleep over the past few days and, right now, all she wanted to do was crawl beneath a cozy blanket and drift off for a day or two. But as she contemplated the pleasures of hot water and a soft mattress, her mind spun a fantasy of both that included Conor.
Every time she thought of them alone, she thought of them together-in the shower, in the bedroom, even on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t help but wonder what the night might bring. A shiver of anticipation skittered up her spine.
Neither she nor Conor had mentioned the events of the night before. It was as if avoiding the subject might just turn it into a dream. Olivia had searched his eyes every chance she got, hoping to see some trace of the raw emotion that had swept them away. But the Conor she’d made love to was gone. In his place was the Conor that had only one purpose in mind-keeping her alive to testify.
An odd sensation gripped her stomach. Was that what last night was about? She’d been upset over the shooting. Had he made love to her because he cared, or because he wanted to make sure her worries were soothed? Disturbed by her doubts, she hopped out of the car before Conor could open the door for her. The condo was located on the upper level of the building and they climbed the outside stairs, then found the key where Danny Wright had hidden it.
As the door swung open, Olivia stepped inside, curious to see where they’d be spending the next nine days. The apartment was tiny but very tidy. A small living room was sparsely furnished with a sofa, an easy chair and a television set. In the center of the living room, a pair of plastic garbage bags sat on the rug. Olivia crossed the room and looked inside the first one, then smiled. “Our things from the beach house.” She made a mental note to give Danny Wright a big hug.
To the left of the front door was a small dining area and a galley kitchen, stocked with utensils and pots and pans, enough for them to cook at home. And down a short hallway were a bedroom and a tiny bath.
“It’s very nice,” Olivia said as she wandered into the bedroom. She bounced on the edge of the bed. It didn’t squeak. “Better than the Happy Patriot.”
Conor turned away from the door, as if the sight of her and the bed made him uneasy. “We’ll be safe here,” he mumbled, “and that’s all that counts.”
They walked back to the kitchen just in time to hear a knock at the open door. An elderly woman took a step inside. “Hello,” she said, eyeing them both warily.
“Hello,” Conor replied.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to check on Lila’s apartment. This is where Lila Wright lives. Are you friends of Lila’s? We all like to watch out for each other and Lila moved to Florida to live with her sister and-”
“I’m a friend of Lila’s grandson,” he explained. “Danny Wright? He’s renting us the place until he sells it-you know, to help Lila out. My name is Conor. Conor Smith and this is Olivia Far-Olivia Smith. My wife.” He glanced at Olivia. “She’s my wife.”
“We just got married,” Olivia said brightly, stepping to Conor’s side and looping her arm through his.
Conor quickly put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer. “We’re very happily married,” he said.
He felt Olivia’s elbow in his ribs and he was glad she wasn’t standing on the other side of him. “I think we’ll be very happy here,” she said, glancing around the condo.
The elderly woman sent them both a dubious look. “You do understand that this is a seniors’ complex,” she said. “There’s not much excitement around here, unless you count that fist fight that broke out at last week’s pinochle tournament. Bert Blevins accused Harvey Denton of cheating and Harvey punched Bert in the nose and-”
“Well,” Conor interrupted. “I’ve always been very mature for my age and so has Olivia. Besides, we really wanted someplace quiet. No loud music, no parties. We’re very private people.”
The woman glanced back and forth between the two of them, then finally nodded. “I live just across the stairway. My name is Sadie Lewis.” She held out her hand and Olivia quickly reached for it. “Congratulations, my dear.”
“Congratulations?” Olivia asked.
“On your marriage,” she said. “You two look very happy.”
“Oh, we are,” Conor said. “Very happy.” He gave Olivia another hug. “We are newlyweds, after all,” he said, this time with more meaning.
Sadie got the message, then nodded knowingly. “I think I’ll just leave you two alone. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m right there.” She pointed to the front door of her apartment, just twelve feet away from theirs.
“We won’t,” Conor said as he closed the door behind her. “Bye now.”
As soon as the door was closed, Olivia hauled off and punched him in the shoulder. “Gee, why beat around the bush? Why not just say, me and the missus want to have sex now so we’d appreciate it if you’d leave?”
“I thought it was the quickest way to get rid of her. She seemed nosy and nosy people will hang around as long as you let them.” Conor glanced down at her. “What? Are you embarrassed? We’re just pretending.”
Olivia turned away from him. But they weren’t just pretending. They’d made love last night, or had he forgotten so soon? “No. I just don’t want her thinking-”
“Thinking we’re hot for each other?” Conor chuckled, as if the notion was preposterous.
Why was he trying so hard to forget what they’d shared? She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep from blurting out her feelings. She already knew that Conor wasn’t the type to reveal his innermost thoughts. It would probably take major surgery to find out what was inside his heart.
“I need to change this bandage,” he finally said, grabbing one of the bags from the discount store. “Why don’t you make a grocery list and I’ll go out and get some things for dinner?” With that, he strode down the hall, leaving Olivia to wonder whether she really had imagined their night together.
After a quick survey of the kitchen, she sat down at the dining table and began a grocery list on a scrap of paper from her purse. But by the time she’d finished with nine days’ worth of provisions, Conor still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom. Hesitantly, she pushed up from the table and walked down the hall. “Conor?” she said, rapping softly on the door. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he snapped from the other side of the door. Olivia heard a soft string of curses. “No.”
She slowly pushed the door open to find him standing in the center of the bathroom, shirtless. He’d managed to get the bandage off but his attempts to replace it had been thwarted. Adhesive tape lay tangled on the floor and gauze pads cast aside. Cotton balls saturated with alcohol made Olivia’s eyes sting.
“I need help,” he muttered. “I can’t reach around and get the tape on straight.”
Olivia stared at him for a long moment. In the harsh light of the bathroom, he looked even more magnificent than he had on the boat. She could see every muscle in his back and torso, bunching and shifting beneath his skin as he turned to tend to his wound. Olivia wanted to run, certain that touching him would transform her into a babbling fool. But common sense told her that she owed it to him to help.
The bathroom was so tiny, she was forced to close the door in order to have enough room to work. She grabbed the tape from his hand, then pulled two gauze pads from the paper
package. “Put your arm up,” she murmured.
He did as he was told and Olivia got her first real look at his wound. She winced at the angry red slash in his side and the line of neat stitches that kept it closed. “It looks painful,” she said.
“Actually, I was thinking that it wasn’t so bad after all. I doused it with alcohol and smeared on some of that antibiotic salve the doctor gave me. It only hurts when I twist or reach.”
She pressed the gauze over the wound, then put his right hand on top of it. A length of tape secured it on top and Olivia tore off three more pieces and taped the bandage in place. “There,” she murmured, slowly straightening.
In the cramped quarters they couldn’t help but touch each other as they moved around. His body brushed against hers, her breasts pressed to his naked chest. And then, suddenly, his arms were around her waist and her fingers were splayed across his chest. Conor captured her mouth with his in a frantic kiss, his hands skimming along her hips, drawing her closer.
The kiss took her breath away, full of fierce longing and fully realized need. He’d kissed her for no reason at all, only that he’d wanted her at that very moment. All her worries about his motives dissolved and Olivia was certain of his desire. He wasn’t playing a role to keep her happy, he wanted her, now more than ever. He had been affected by the passion they’d shared.
But just as she allowed herself to revel in the taste of him, he pulled away, as if ending the kiss quickly would make it seem like it never happened at all. “We shouldn’t do that,” he said, his jaw tight.
Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. He could make a feeble attempt to deny her, but in the end, he couldn’t resist. “Why not?”
Conor shook his head, then grabbed his shirt from the edge of the tub and struggled into it. “We just shouldn’t. It complicates things.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Olivia said. “What we share here is between us and no one else.”
She saw the battle in his eyes, between common sense and carnal pleasures. But she’d spoken the truth. If all they had was the next nine days, then she’d understand. The past three had been the most exciting days of her life and she couldn’t regret a single minute, not if it brought her closer to Conor Quinn.
Conor dragged his gaze from hers. “I have to go,” he said.
Olivia blinked in surprise. “Where?”
“I’ve got some things to do.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
“You’ll be safer here.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to leave?” Olivia asked.
Conor thought about the suggestion for a moment, then shook his head. “You know the dangers out there, Olivia. If you really want to leave, I can’t stop you. But I’d be damn angry if I came home and found out that I took a bullet for a woman who cared less for her life than I do.”
With those words, he made it clear that to leave would be a betrayal he couldn’t forgive. Olivia took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll be here when you get back. You don’t have to worry.”
She stood in the bathroom and listened to his footsteps as they retreated down the hallway. For a few minutes there, she really believed she understood Conor Quinn. But then he threw up walls all around him, determined to keep her at a distance. Olivia couldn’t blame him. After what she’d learned about his childhood, it was no wonder he was wary of women.
Still, she’d seen a vulnerable side of him and it gave her hope that, one day, Conor might want to love her. With a long sigh, Olivia sat down on the edge of the tub. “I should find myself a nice, normal guy,” she murmured, her chin cupped in her hand.
But she didn’t want normal. She wanted dangerous. And if the past few days had proved anything at all, it was that Olivia was beginning to thrive on danger.
THE OFFICER on duty recognized Conor the moment he walked in. But Conor had counted on the code between cops, a code that called for silence until questions were asked. He walked up to the desk at the Suffolk County Jail and pulled out his badge. But he didn’t reach for the pen to sign in, bypassing the strict requirements called for when visiting a prisoner.
“Quinn,” the officer nodded.
“Mullaney,” Conor replied.
“Didn’t expect you to turn up here,” Mullaney murmured, leaning forward as he lowered his voice. He glanced over Quinn’s shoulder. “I hear the D.A. and the brass are ready to can your ass. You kidnapped a witness.”
“I’m just doing my job,” Conor murmured. “I’m supposed to keep her alive until the trial. And it looks like someone in the department wants her dead.”
Mullaney blinked in surprise, then nodded as if he sympathized with Conor’s predicament. “I suppose I should be forgetting that I saw you tonight.”
“And while you’re at it, you can forget that you called Kevin Ford up to an interview room by mistake. And that I just happened to be in that interview room when he arrived.”
“If they find out about this, your career will be over,” Mullaney said.
“I’m still a cop and he’s still one of the bad guys and, until he asks for his lawyer, we’re just a couple of buddies chatting about a mutual acquaintance.”
“If anyone asks, I never saw you. Just make sure no one else never saw you, too. Room seven.”
He picked up the phone to call the guard on duty, then buzzed Conor in. He’d been to Suffolk hundreds of times before to interview suspects. He knew how to walk through the place without being recognized, how to avoid contact with anyone who looked like a lawyer. He stepped into the interview room and, a few moments later, a uniformed officer opened the door and let Kevin Ford enter.
Ford was dressed like all the other prisoners in a baggy jumpsuit. Yet he still seemed completely out of place. His pale face and horn-rimmed glasses gave him the look of a Harvard professor rather than the career criminals that populated the county jail. He walked into the room, hands cuffed in front of him, then sat down across from Conor.
Conor had developed the ability to read suspects, to know exactly what kind of people they were and what buttons to push to get them to talk. Kevin Ford was easy. He was a coward at heart, willing to do whatever it took to save his butt. The problem was Red Keenan was willing to do whatever it took to kill Ford’s butt if he talked.
“I’m not saying anything without my lawyer. And I’m not going to testify against Keenan, so you might as well not waste my time.”
“Yeah,” Conor said. “I bet your social calendar is pretty full.” He chuckled softly. “Nothing you say is going to leave this room. I’m officially not here and we’re officially not talking.”
“What do you want? Did Keenan send you?”
Conor tried to keep the surprise from his expression. “Keenan?” he asked. “I guess he’s sent his cops around to talk to you already.” Better to act like he knew exactly what Ford was talking about. “So did he send the guys in uniform or did he send his detectives?”
Ford didn’t answer, but Conor could see it in his eyes. Someone from the department had talked to him, convinced him not to testify against Keenan, and that someone was a cop. “You don’t have to answer that,” Conor said. “If he’d sent the top guys, you’d be a lot more messed up.”
That seemed to bother Ford, the look on his face shifting to one of fear. “You know what I don’t get?” Conor continued. “How a guy like you, smooth, sophisticated, well-read, a guy with real manners, could hang Olivia Farrell out to dry? She didn’t do anything to you except trust you. You were her friend. And now she’s got Keenan’s men shooting at her. She’ll testify, and her testimony will probably put both you and Keenan away for a long time. But she’ll spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.”
Ford hung his head, his attention fixed on his folded hands. “I didn’t mean to get her involved.” He glanced up and, in that single moment, Conor saw the truth, all laid out in front of him. Kevin Ford was in love with Olivia Farrell!
“Why did you do i
t?” Conor asked, his jaw tight. “Off the record.”
“I bought the shop on Charles Street. The mortgage was killing me, I made a few bad buys and suddenly I was on the verge of losing it all. I couldn’t let her down, so when Keenan came to me, I took him up on his offer. At first it was just supposed to be a short-term deal. But then once I was in, I couldn’t get out.”
Conor almost felt sorry for the guy. Hell, he knew how Olivia could twist a man’s heart a million different ways, and how Keenan could take advantage of any vulnerability. “You said a cop came to talk to you about Keenan?” Ford nodded. This was the break he needed, a way to extract Olivia from this mess and still send Keenan to prison. “What if I found a way for you to testify against Keenan, to put him in jail for the next twenty years?”
“I’m not going to testify,” Ford insisted.
“What if you didn’t have to do any time? I could make that happen,” Conor said.
“My lawyer says I might not do any time anyway,” Ford replied.
“Your lawyer is overly optimistic. Olivia’s testimony will put you in jail. And I’d wager you’re not the kind of guy who’ll do well in prison. Even if it’s only a few years, those years won’t be kind.”
Ford’s shoulders slumped further. “Why do you care about me?” he asked.
“I don’t care about you,” Conor said. “I care about Olivia.”
They exchanged a long look and Conor knew they understood each other perfectly. They’d both fallen for the same woman, both shared an instinct to protect her. “If you can guarantee that I’ll stay out of jail, then I’ll testify against Keenan.”
Conor pushed to his feet. “Don’t tell anyone about this, not even your lawyer. I’m going to send a detective to talk to you. His name is Danny Wright and he works for the good guys. He’ll set this up for you. You can trust him.”
Conor strode to the door, then hammered his fist on the window. The officer waiting outside unlocked the door and Conor stepped out. Anxious not to be seen, he hurried down the corridor and past the desk, not stopping to talk to anyone. When he got outside, he stood on the street, breathing deeply and running the plan through his mind.
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