Beckett clicked through the FBI’s case file straight to the interviews and statements. Calvin Dailey had been interviewed by an agent shortly after Raleigh’s arrest, but nothing in the transcript gave them a leg to stand on that he was their man. What’d he expect? A full confession? The son of a bitch had claimed he hadn’t known anything about Raleigh dipping into the foundation’s funds, despite her official statement she’d handed over the evidence she’d collected straight to him two weeks before an anonymous tip pinned her as the FBI’s primary suspect. But according to Calvin’s statement, it’d sure broken his heart when he’d found out. Yeah, right. Beckett shook his head. Guys like Calvin Dailey were all the same, but Beckett had experience with his kind, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let another con man destroy his future. “Let’s see if that’s even your real name.”
Logging in to the Warrant Information Network—WIN—used by marshals all over the country to conduct investigations, run warrant searches, handle threat management and keep an eye on witnesses in WITSEC, he typed the suspect’s name into the search bar and hit Enter.
And froze as the man’s photo stared straight back at him.
His knees threatened to drop right out from under him as nausea worked up his throat. He gripped the edge of the counter. The suspect was older, slightly worn around the edges, but Beckett would recognize that face anywhere. His instinct to check into the foundation’s CEO had been right. Calvin Dailey wasn’t the man’s real name. Hell, Beckett wasn’t even sure he’d ever known his real name, but he knew at least one other alias for the feds to trace.
“Reed seriously needs to consider the kind of chocolate that’s worth stashing.” Light footsteps padded down the stairs at his back as the muscles down his spine hardened. “Good chocolate is not supposed to have a diet aftertaste. I don’t care how much he paid for it. None of that was worth saving.”
His hands shook as the rage he’d tried to contain these past few days exploded through him. Adrenaline surged into his veins, the pain in both wounds pushed to the back of his mind. Everything about this case had felt too close, too familiar. He’d ignored those initial suspicions, attributed his feelings to the situation between him and Raleigh, but he’d been wrong from the start. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“About the chocolate?” She crossed into his peripheral vision as she wrenched the refrigerator door open and reached inside for a bottled water. “I wish. Now I can’t get that taste out of my mouth. Brushing my teeth didn’t help.”
“You were helping him this entire time, and I was too blinded to see it.” The main level of the cabin blurred as Beckett turned on her, and those bright green eyes widened. The past year came into excruciating focus. The mugging, their whirlwind romance, her arrest, the pregnancy. Hell, even him finding out Calvin Dailey was still alive had probably gone off without a hitch. Every step had been meticulously timed and executed. Because if there was one thing he knew about that man in the photo, Calvin Dailey—whoever the SOB would become next time around—never did anything halfway. When he set out to destroy lives, he succeeded. Only Calvin Dailey wouldn’t have been able to do it alone. “I’ve been racking my brain, wondering how on earth someone in the foundation was able to steal that much money without anyone else noticing but you. Now I know. You’re working with him.”
Venom dripped from his words as Beckett closed the distance between them. The tendons in his fingers ached as he curled them into fists. Had any of it been real, or had he just taken the bait?
“What are you talking about?” Color drained from her face, but she couldn’t fool him. Couldn’t pretend. Not anymore. What’d looked like vulnerability was a carefully constructed emotional response catered to him, to his reactions. Like the good con woman she was supposed to be, and everything he’d felt for her, every promise out of his mouth, ground into dust inside him. Raleigh tried to counter his approach until her back hit the refrigerator. There was nowhere for her to go this time. Nowhere for her to run. Not from him. “Beckett.”
“You’ve been working with him this entire time, haven’t you? Using me,” he said.
The muscles along her throat flexed as she swallowed, the water bottle still clenched between her hands. “You’re accusing me of partnering with Calvin Dailey to steal from my own foundation. Based on what evidence?”
“Come on. We both know that’s not his real name.” He struggled to control the fire burning through him as he reached for the cuffs he’d left on the counter beside the keys to the SUV. Cool metal pressed against his palm. “You might as well call him Hank Foster when you’re talking to me.”
“Calvin Dailey is…your father?” Disbelief coated her words. She stared up at him, her mouth parted slightly as though she were surprised by the information. Hank had certainly taught her well. Her exhalation reached his ears. She shook her head. “Beckett, I swear to you I had no idea—”
“Stop lying!” He slammed his free hand against the fridge above her head, his control razor thin. He’d survived the past twenty years living off his anger—his hatred—for that man, but with her he’d nearly forgotten that feeling. Now the familiarity of that rage wrapped around him. Supported him. Protected him from being that sixteen-year-old kid holding his mother on the floor as she died in his arms. He backed off and collected his shoulder holster loaded with one of Reed’s backup weapons from the counter, threading his arms through the supports. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect to be arrested four months ago. Your partner threw you under the bus because that’s the kind of bastard he is, and as a backup plan you thought you could use me as a get-out-of-jail-free card. You’d appeal to my sense of justice, seduce me, and later down the road, you’d disappear.” Beckett turned to her, lasering her with his glare. “Just tell me one thing. Was the pregnancy his idea or yours?”
Her expression smoothed, any hint of the vulnerable, soft woman she’d been slipping away by the second. In her place, the self-assured, driven fugitive he’d always known existed surfaced. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re accusing me of partnering with a con man to steal from my foundation. What evidence have you found to support that theory?”
“I don’t need evidence. You’re already a fugitive.” Beckett let his hands slip from the refrigerator and pushed away. Grabbing her right arm, he spun her around and secured one cuff around her wrist. Then the other. “Raleigh Wilde, you are under arrest.”
* * *
THE CUFFS CLICKED loud in her ears, and the invisible black hole he’d helped repair over the past few days engulfed her from the inside. Raleigh bit back the scream working up her throat as her heart shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces, worse than before, but she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t show weakness. Not in front of him. She’d trusted him, believed he’d keep his promises this time, and from the hardness in his expression, there was nothing she could say to make him see the truth. But that didn’t stop her from trying. “You’re making a mistake, Beckett. I didn’t know Calvin was your father. I swear—”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Now walk.” His voice lacked the slightest hint of the emotions he’d shown her while they’d been here, and the empty space inside only spread faster. He’d said he’d fallen in love with her, that he’d be there for her and the baby. Had it all been a lie? Beckett gripped the cuffs between her wrists and maneuvered her toward the cabin’s front door. “I risked my career for you, put my life on the line for you, and this is what I get for trusting a fugitive. The second I hand you off to the FBI, I’m going after Hank, and I’ll never have to deal with you again. My lawyer will be in touch to make arrangements for custody after the baby is born.”
He was going to take her baby from her.
“No.” Raleigh wrenched out of his hold, twisting around to face him, and he automatically reached for the weapon he’d borrowed from Reed’s arsenal upstairs. Her gaze lowered to his hand, then rose bac
k to those defensive blue eyes. Would he shoot her? Would he risk his daughter’s life out of his misdirected hatred for the man who’d threatened to destroy them? “I didn’t have anything to do with Calvin—” she closed her eyes as disbelief reared its ugly head and forced herself to breathe evenly “—Hank stealing that money. If after everything we’ve been through together, you still don’t believe me, I can handle that. But you don’t get to pretend what we had didn’t mean anything to you and drive off into the sunset without facing me.”
The veins along his forearms seemed to strain to break through the thin skin there, his hand still positioned over the gun in his holster. “What you can or can’t handle no longer concerns me.”
“Tell me you don’t believe me.” She battled to keep her face expressionless. She wouldn’t back down until he said the words, until he confirmed her deepest, darkest fear. She wouldn’t let him see how much his betrayal hurt, how he’d broken her down to nothing all over again. She wasn’t going to let him see the destruction he’d caused. Not just for her but for their daughter. Raleigh stepped into him. “Lie to my face. Tell me you don’t love me so we can both move on with our lives after you realize what you’ve done.”
One second. Two.
“How could I love someone like you?” His words came through gritted teeth. “I don’t even know you, and neither will our daughter.”
The effect hit her as though she’d been impaled with a piece of shrapnel all over again. Her throat burned with the sob building at the edges. She’d forgotten how to breathe, how to move, and all she could do was nod as numbness spread through her. No thoughts. No sensations. Just a sea of comforting black she’d been retreating into her whole life. “Then let’s get this over with.”
Beckett reached over her shoulder and disabled the alarm panel before spinning her toward the door. Cold air worked under the superhero T-shirt and pale gray sweats she’d borrowed from Reed’s clothing rack as he led her outside. Her bare feet caught on the splinters sticking out from the aged front porch of the cabin, but she kept moving at his insistence. Dark stains spotted the stairs as they descended, a bloody trail of breadcrumbs leading them to the SUV she’d used to get them to safety. When she’d believed he could finally move past the hatred that’d been tearing him apart since he was sixteen years old.
She’d been wrong.
Raleigh focused on the SUV as they approached. She could run. She could head straight for the trees and never look back, but she’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder if she ran. Because Beckett Foster would never stop searching for her or for his daughter. The best chance she had of giving their baby the life she deserved—a family—would be to prove her innocence and fight for custody. No matter how long it took. No matter how much it hurt.
“What did Hank promise you if you helped him steal all that money? A cut of his share? That he’d leave the entire foundation in your hands and let you live out the rest of your life in peace?” His humorless laugh broke through the slight ringing in her ears. He wrenched the back passenger-side door open but held her arm to keep her from getting in. The keys jingled in his hand as he unlocked one cuff and hauled her hands above her head before securing her to the handle above the seat. Beckett stepped aside as she got in, his hand resting on the outer edge of the door. “I think him hiring Emily Cline to take you out tells you exactly what kind of man you’ve gotten involved with. Because of you our baby—my baby—is in danger, and if anything happens to her, it’s on you. I hope you can live with that.”
Nothing she said, no amount of evidence she presented to the contrary, would alter his belief about her or satisfy his anger. She doubted hearing it from the source of all that hatred would do any good either. Beckett had spent his entire life fighting to counterbalance the evil his father had carried out. She only hoped he understood it’d be a lifelong battle. Not with Hank Foster but with himself. She stared at the back of the front headrest as best she could with both hands secured over her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk the rest of the trip back to Portland.”
“You got it.” He slammed the door, the force quaking through her as she followed his movements through the windshield. Not yet. She couldn’t break apart yet, but every step he took around the front of the SUV sealed her fate. He’d take her back to Portland. He’d hand her over to the FBI, and she’d never see him or her daughter again. Of all the promises he’d made over the past few days, this would be one he’d never break.
Tears burned in her eyes, and she ducked her chin to her chest as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat. He didn’t love her, but she’d been through this before and survived. With every foster family who hadn’t been able to handle her violent attempts to protect her brother, with being forced to live with an aunt who’d only used them for an extra paycheck, with the loss of friends after her arrest. Then why, after so many others had discarded her out of selfishness, did Beckett’s admission hurt this much? He’d distanced himself from anything that had to do with her after her arrest four months ago, just as he was doing now. Why was this time any different?
Staring out the window, she couldn’t focus on anything other than her opaque reflection in the glass. The answer was there, drowning in the storm of feelings reminding her she’d always be unwanted, worthless, unloved by everyone around her. That storm had built her into the woman who’d do whatever it took to succeed emotionally, professionally and physically, but this time…this time she’d let him in. She’d let her guard crumble for the off chance of building a life for their daughter, one where their baby would never doubt she was loved. But now Raleigh would have to be the one to suffer the consequences.
The SUV’s engine vibrated to life, and Beckett directed them down the single dirt access road leading down the mountain. The cuffs hit against the handle above her head as the vehicle climbed over wayward rocks and dips in the road. His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror, connecting with hers for the briefest of moments, and her gut clenched. The trip back to Portland would take at least two hours. She could do this. For hers and Beckett’s daughter. You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. Her brother’s words echoed as a memory of him reaching down to help her to her feet after a particularly nasty fight with another foster brother landed her with two broken fingers and a bloody nose. She didn’t have a choice now, but she’d sure as hell make sure her daughter did.
She caught movement through the windshield a split second before a bullet penetrated through the glass. Beckett’s pain-filled groan filled the silence, and Raleigh ducked low as best she could in her seat as he veered the vehicle off the road. Her heart throbbed at the base of her skull. “Beckett!”
“Damn it. I’m fine.” Cold air rushed through the hole in the glass as Beckett reached for his gun. He clutched his side. Blood spilled between his fingers, and before he could unholster his weapon, he slumped in his seat. Unconscious.
“Beckett?” Raleigh leaned forward as much as she could to reach him, but the cuffs kept her secured. She couldn’t get to him. The road forced the SUV to course correct, and they were once again headed down the mountain, increasing speed as they approached a sharp turn ahead. She pulled at her restraints, a desperate growl slipping past her control. The pines up ahead were growing larger through the windshield. They were going too fast. They were going to crash.
Sitting back in her seat, she braced for impact as best she could. The vehicle’s tires caught on the edge of the opposite side of the dirt road, and the vehicle flipped. The ground rushed up to meet her window. A scream tore past her lips as rocks shattered through the glass and scraped along her shoulder, but before she could take another breath, the SUV rolled again. The tree line and the ground blurred as her stomach shot into her throat. Then everything was still. Absolutely still.
A low thump reached past the haze closing in. Her body felt as though she’d been
burned as cold air met the fresh layer of raw skin under the cuffs and the gravel embedded in her shoulder. She clutched the handle Beckett had cuffed her to and tried to sit up, broken glass and debris shifting under her heels, but the SUV had landed upside down in the middle of the road. There was no up. A deep groan reached past the echo of her uneven breathing, and her heart jerked. “Beckett.”
The series of thumps grew louder. Closer. Footsteps? Hinges protested loud in her ears as her passenger-side door ripped open, and she closed her eyes to block the piercing sunlight as a dark outline closed in.
“Hello, Raleigh,” a familiar voice said. Cold metal slipped between her skin and the cuffs before the steel links snapped. Her arms relaxed onto her chest as a second, more muscular outline reached in and pulled her from the vehicle. “You and I have some unfinished business to discuss.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“So this is what dying feels like.” Beckett gripped the ambulance bay door as the EMT threaded another stitch into his side. His pain receptors screamed in protest, but lucky for him, the bullet had been a through-and-through. A few more stitches and a clean dressing and he’d be back out there hunting his fugitive.
“Stop getting shot, and you wouldn’t have to go through this again.” Chief Deputy Remington Barton adjusted the AR-15 strapped over her shoulder, barrel pointed down. A black long-sleeved T-shirt peeked out from under her dark tactical vest with US Marshals spread across the back. The radio specifically designed to reach the rest of the deputies on their team had been strapped to one side of the Kevlar, grazing her short black hair, but it was those intense blue eyes that said she was ready for the coming fight. Prepared to protect her team and get the job done. “Want to tell me I’m wrong about how close you are to this investigation again?”
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