“Without you, I would still be doing something I love and I’d be happy. Thank you for changing all of that for me. How can I ever repay you?”
Clenching her teeth, she moaned, looking at him through the thick fringe of her long lashes. “Then walk away! Go ahead. Walk away from all this.” She swept her hands around. When he didn’t answer, she smirked. “Of course you won’t walk away. For a man with pro bono written all over his heart you certainly like the power of money. Keep the prize in mind. We’re so close. All the hard work will finally pay off.”
“Have you wondered what’ll happen if I’m not elected president?”
She snickered. “That’s hilarious. You already have the presidency in your pocket.”
“It’s not won until it’s won. A term would mean putting us together for another four years, potentially eight. I’m not sure either of us can handle the faux relationship.”
Was he thinking of pulling out of the race?
That couldn’t happen.
“Listen, Brent.” She ate up the distance that separated them, sliding her finger along the line of the pearl buttons on his shirt. “I’m willing to sweeten the deal. Make me First Lady and I can be convinced to please you like I once did. I remember how much you enjoyed having me go down—”
“Knowing where that mouth has been and who has been in it, I’ll pass.”
She felt the rejection all the way into her glass stilettos. “You bastard! Fuck you!” She lifted her hand, drawing back to slap him, but he caught her wrist.
“I’ve been fucked enough by you.” He dropped her hand and took a step back, fixing the lapel of his jacket. “I’ll meet you in the car.”
She closed the door and remembered there had been a listener to the exchange between her and Brent. When Lucifer stepped out of the hiding place, she directed all her anger at him. “Listen here, you slimy roach. I want this problem taken care of now! You keep in mind what’s at stake here. You hear me?”
He squirmed and nodded, looking like he could throw up. The twerp had better take her seriously. No way in hell would she let the opportunity of being First Lady slip through her fingers all because some nobody campaign manager wanted to ruin her life by bribing her with pictures he’d taken of her and her lover, Simon. Lucifer thought the public would have a difficult time seeing passed her affair if it came out, but if Simon’s Russian connections were exposed, there was no chance voters would forgive her.
It wasn’t like she cared for Simon or anything. He was a good fuck but so were the other men she’d had affairs with along the way. She’d ended her ties with him days ago, but maybe she’d acted too hastily. It was very possible his skill could be used in this situation.
“We’ll get this under control,” Lucifer stammered. “If there was any evidence the police would be sniffing around.”
“And we’re not waiting for that to happen. Our only choice is to wipe away any risks.” She returned to sit at the vanity, touching up her nose with powder. “I think it’s time I did what I should have done before.” She picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number. “Hi, Simon. Yes. I know I said I didn’t want to talk to you again. I’ve missed you. I’m going to need your help with something.”
Chapter 12
“This ain’t my idea of finding anyone. I ain’t cut out for this shit.” Forty adjusted his large body on the makeshift wooden seat as he warmed his hands by the fire pit. “It’s freaking cold,” he growled.
“I told you it’d be cold,” Roman chuckled, spooning up more of the beans from the tin plate they’d heated over the flames. He hated camping just as well as the next guy, especially in a foot of snow, but they’d fucked up. The flash drive was empty, and if they didn’t find the bitch who was causing them a shitload of time, and money, their plans of disappearing with a load of dough would be a distant fantasy. They had no choice but to move forward.
“You said dress warm. You didn’t say bring the subzero clothing.” Forty dropped his empty tin plate to the ground, shaking his head and grunting. “What do you think of this clown, anyway?” Forty asked in a lowered voice, checking over his shoulder to ensure the man of mention wasn’t within earshot.
Roman shrugged a broad shoulder. “Probably fucking the bitch who’s financing this shit. Hell, I don’t really give a damn what’s going on or who she is. I just want to get this job over, get my money and get the hell out of this state. It’s plain and simple.”
“Don’t you mean our money, friend?” Forty snarled, showing off a missing eye tooth. He scratched his neck over the fading tattoo of a sword he’d had done years ago.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. I say we listen to what this Simon fellow says and this’ll be over soon.”
“Listen to him how much longer? I don’t like sleeping in a tent, freezing my balls off, and I hate the man even more. I didn’t sign up for this—”
“Shh!”
Roman warned but it was too late. Simon stepped out from the woods, his arms laden with wood for the fire. He glanced from Forty to Roman with dark, sinister eyes. There weren’t very many men he was afraid of, but this guy had the tattoos that spoke of danger.
“None of us would be here if you had done the job you were hired to do.” Simon seemed calm. “This isn’t any funner for me than it is for you two. You think I want to do all the work around camp?” He dropped his load next to the fire, took a seat on a log and reached for his tin plate of beans, scraping his spoon against the plate.
Forty and Roman made eye contact.
“Why are we out here? Why don’t we just go take care of the bitch,” Forty grumbled.
Simon paused his spoon mid-air, keeping his gaze on something in the distance. New creases appeared around his tanned skin. “Patience is a virtue.” He went back to eating.
“We have a right to know what the hell we’re doing.”
“Forty—”
“I’ll handle it,” Simon said to Roman as he set his plate down on the snow. “I don’t like seeing brains over the ground. Of course, I could let you assholes walk right into that cabin and watch you get your heads blown off your shoulders. The cunt isn’t alone. She has someone with her. I know him and he isn’t one to fuck with. Not just him, but the Mountain Force. We’d have the entire team down on our heads if they got wind that we killed one of their own.”
“Then what’s the plan?” Roman smiled, obviously trying to smooth the situation.
Simon’s agitation showed in his tight whiskered jaw. Obviously, he wasn’t used to being questioned. “The plan is that you and your buddy here will stay at camp. For this next step I need to go alone. Don’t leave this area. I’ll return by tonight if everything falls into place.”
Forty stood, shoving his shaky hands into his front pockets, his bottom lip puckering like a boy about to throw a temper tantrum. “That doesn’t sound like a plan to me.”
Simon laughed. “Relax, man.”
Angry, Forty kicked his plate, sending it across the space, almost hitting Simon. He stood, grabbed his gun and had it pressed in the center of Forty’s forehead before he or Roman could blink.
He jumped up too, keeping his distance, but holding his hands up in guard. “Come on, let’s not do this. Forty ain’t all there.”
“Then maybe you’d like to see me pull the trigger too.” Simon didn’t take his eyes off the now quivering man.
“Forty can be an asshole, we all can be, but I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut from here on out, even if I have to cut his tongue out.”
“I don’t think he knows how to keep his mouth shut.” Simon cocked the gun. “Do you have a knife? We can cut his tongue out now.”
“No. Please no!” Forty begged.
“He’ll keep it shut,” Roman guaranteed. “Think about it. We need him. If we cut his tongue out he’ll bleed to death.”
“Really, I don’t need him. I don’t have time for loose threads, and he seems like he’s unraveling.” Simon kept the gun steady.
> “Forty, tell him you’ll keep your mouth shut.” Roman was sweating.
“I’ll keep my mouth shut, man,” Forty promised.
“No one dies, unless it’s you, until we have that flash drive in our hands.” After two long seconds, Simon finally lowered the gun, clicked the safety on, and pushed it back into his belt. “You two stay here. Put the fire out and leave it out.”
“B-But—”
Roman gave Forty a narrowed eye of warning. “Fine.”
“I’ll be back.”
The second Simon was outside of camp, Forty swiped a hand across his moist forehead and chuckled. “Boy, that asshole has a hair up his ass—”
Grabbing the man by the neck, Roman stared into Forty’s eyes. “Listen here you piece of shit. You’re not going to fuck this up for us—for me. Just as Simon said, keep your mouth shut and if you don’t I won’t waste my time cutting out your tongue. I might even put a bullet between your eyes myself. Got it?”
“Got it.” Some of the humor left the man’s face. Once he was let go, he rubbed his bruised neck. “Why’d you have to grab me so hard?”
Roman shook his head, feeling the last bit of his patience dwindle.
“What are we going to do to stay warm?” Forty said as he obediently extinguished the fire with dirt then patted it down with the toe of his boot.
“We’ll figure it out, but don’t touch that firewood.” Roman stomped off for his tent.
****
Cox had slept hard. Eight hours of good sleep left him feeling refreshed the next morning. After he’d left Hazel alone, he’d found another bedroom and hit the sack.
Going downstairs, dressed in a flannel and jeans, he followed the savory aroma of food into the kitchen, finding Hazel standing at the stove flipping French toast. Her long hair hung in wild coils down her shoulders and the sunlight streaming in caught the lighter highlights, turning them into gold strands. The grey sweats she wore hugged her firm bottom and long legs. One knee was bent and one bare foot was propped onto the other, her hip tilted.
“That smells amazing.” His words brought her chin up. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of make up, which made her look younger. Her incredible eyes caught the sunlight and she smiled. He felt an unfamiliar itch in his chest.
“It’s about time you were up, sleepy head,” she teased.
“I slept great.” He swiped his hand down his jaw, which was getting pretty furry.
“It’s the country air.” She transferred slices of French toast to two plates, then bacon to his. “I hope you’re hungry. Fresh coffee’s in the pot.” She pointed her fork toward the carafe on the table.
“I didn’t realize how much so until I smelled breakfast.” He hadn’t eaten much yesterday, which wasn’t unusual. Many times when working a case, he’d forget or get too busy to eat. He usually made up for it when he had the time. Grabbing one of the cups she’d set out, he poured himself coffee to the rim and sipped. Once he had some room, he poured in a dash of creamer from the container. He had to admit it tasted good, unlike the brew he’d made last night.
She placed the two plates at the round table. “Have a seat.” She took the seat closest to her and poured a swirl of maple syrup over her French toast.
Pulling out the seat, he settled into the comfortable wood and poured himself a good helping of maple syrup. Forking himself a bite, he chewed. “Man, that’s good.”
A smile lit her features. This was a completely different Hazel from the grumpy one he’d left in her bedroom last night. “I have to confess. It’s all from the freezer. I just warmed it up. Unfortunately, I’m not the best cook.”
“The coffee’s great too.”
“I did do that.” She fell into silence while they continued to enjoy their meal, the utensils scraping the plates. “It’s still snowing out, so I’m guessing the road is closed. We can forget about calling a tow for the Jeep. I plan to take the snowmobile to get the rest of my things.”
“We can go when we’re finished here, if you’d like.” He chomped down on a slice of crispy bacon.
“You don’t have to go along.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
“No, I don’t, but I am.”
“Good news, I can scavenge through Vanessa’s closet. She has clothes for the cold weather.”
He noticed the sudden tension and creases around her eyes as if the woman’s name left a bitter taste on her tongue. “I’m taking it that you and this Vanessa don’t get along?”
She gave a small shrug as if she debated whether she’d divulge anything personal to him. Finally she said, “Vanessa is one of those people who can appear sweet and sincere, but there’s an underlying energy about her that she can’t hide. I tolerate her because Uncle loves her, at least I think he does.” She crumbled up her napkin, dropped it into the middle of her plate and pushed it away.
“If you two don’t get along well how does that make for living under one roof? The mansion is big, but not that big.”
Blotting crumbs with her finger, she dropped them onto the plate. “She’s not there often, but when she is, I can feel she wishes I’d disappear. It’s not a big deal. I endure her.”
Although she wanted to brush it off and make it seem meaningless, he had a strong feeling the dislike did bother her. “Has she always disliked you?”
“I think so.”
“If your Uncle wins the election that’ll change a lot of things for everyone.”
“I think that’s part of the problem. She sees me as a stain on my uncle’s family name. I don’t have a thriving career, no rich husband, and so forth. I believe Vanessa takes full credit for Uncle Brent being where he is today. When they met, he’d been a legal aid attorney and soon after the “I do” he had his own practice and they were living on top of the world.”
Cox eased back into the chair, feeing some compassion for the woman sitting across from him. Maybe he understood her a little better as he saw the vulnerability in her. When people are afraid of getting hurt, they put up walls. He’d done the same thing after he came back from across the pond. Pushing people away, closing himself off. He’d used a coping mechanism in dealing with everything he’d witnessed overseas.
“Are you finished?” She pointed to his plate. He nodded and she took their dirty dishes to the sink. “You cooked. I can fill the dishwasher.” He was beside her, taking a dish from her hand.
“Okay. Since you have this covered, I’m going to go upstairs and grab some warm clothes.”
“Are the snowmobiles in the garage I saw out back?”
“Yes, that’s where they’re kept. The key is hanging from the hook next to the back door.”
“I’ll meet you out there. Okay?”
After finishing the dishes, grabbing his coat, he found the key right where Hazel said it would be and walked through the foot of snow to the door to the garage. By the time he had finished examining the snowmobiles to make sure they were in good running condition, Hazel was stomping the snow off her boots just inside the door.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes, I was just giving them a once over. I’m not up for walking again today.” He brought his chin up from where he was bent over the snowmobile and grinned. “That’s some outfit.”
She frowned. “This was the less glitzy one that I could find. My aunt has a flair for bright and shiny.” She patted the bright pink jacket. “When I get my other suitcase, I’ll have my own things.”
“At least if you try and outrun me I’ll see you from a mile away,” he joked. “Do you have a preference for which one you want to ride?” The snowmobiles were new, like they hadn’t been ridden but once or twice.
“Nope. I’m closest to this one so I’ll take it.”
Cox loved being out in the snow riding, and he knew how much once they were heading away from the cabin, making a path in the deep snow. He appreciated how well Hazel handled the snowmobile. She led the way, keeping a fast speed but letting off the gas when needed. No doubt she liked t
o be in the driver’s seat.
She pointed to the right and waved a gloved hand for him to follow her. Once she stopped next to the tree line, he pulled up next to her and she yanked off her helmet and goggles. Her hair was caught up in the breeze and swept against her pink cheeks. She used her arm to brush them away. “I wanted you to see this.” She slid out of the seat and grabbed the snowshoes they’d thought enough to bring.
She led the way through the thicket.
“Where are we headed?”
“You’ll see.”
Cox had never been a man that got overly excited about much but seeing her teasing smile and the slight hop in her step as she walked with the snowshoes, he found himself enjoying the moment. There was a lot about her that he never expected.
They came to a clearing that led to the edge of a creek. The water trickled over rocks and the bank was covered in snow. It was a beautiful scene.
“I love to come here when I visit the cabin. It’s so serene, don’t you think?” She looked to him to see his reaction.
“I could see doing some serious fishing here.”
“You like to fish?” Her eyes lit. “Uncle Brent would take me fishing here every summer. When I would grow impatient because I wasn’t catching anything, and just simply bored, he’d remind me, “It’s important to learn to be present and patient with the moment”. I had no clue what he meant until I was older.”
He saw her slight frown. “Your uncle cares for you.”
She seemed slightly irritated. “Until his interest shifts.”
“Are you talking about the campaign?”
“I hate to sound like a snotty nosed brat, but this campaign has taken a lot out of him. And if he’s elected that’s when the fun begins.” She scanned the water and he felt her sadness. That was a glimpse of compassion that reeled him in.
He picked up a rock and skipped it along the water when he heard a ring. He turned just as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Hey, do you have service?”
“This is the phone my uncle gave me.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Think I could use it?”
Tormented by the Lawman (Mountain Force Book 3) Page 11