Irresistible Deceptions

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Paul dipped his chin. “Your reference to Jonathan Everson caught my interest.”

  “I thought it might.”

  Like gunslingers on a dusty street, the two men squared off. The silence stretched between them as each took the other’s measure. As if coming to a decision, Paul dipped his chin and beckoned to Nicky with an outstretched hand.

  “Nicky.”

  Rhyder McLean’s dark head whipped around. Surprise flashed in his dark blue eyes before they pinned Nicky like twin laser beams. The intensity of his gaze ensnared her, and she shivered. Goose bumps pebbled her skin.

  Did he recognize her? Had he known who she was the other day on the shuttle? Was he here on Jonathan’s behalf? Oh, God. Had he followed her home and told Jonathan where to find her? Coincidence this gargantuan didn’t happen. Her feet remained rooted to the spot.

  Paul cocked his head, his eyes questioning. “Nicky?”

  Clamping down on her quivering muscles, Nicky forced her legs to move. First one step, then another, until she stood at Paul’s side. She lifted her chin, refusing to cower under McLean’s blue-fire regard.

  “Mr. McLean, this is General Guimond’s daughter, Nicky.”

  “And Jonathan Everson’s ex-wife.” Contempt glittered in McLean’s eyes.

  Nicky’s hands curled into fists as suspicion bloomed to full-blown fury. “You seem well informed about Jonathan. No one refers to me as the ex-Mrs. Everson any longer. Not many people even remember we were married, it ended so long ago. I wonder why you do.”

  “I’m wondering that myself.” Paul hiked a brow and waited for a reply.

  “I’ve done my homework.”

  “Why is that?” Crossing her arms, Nicky didn’t bother hiding her disdain. Jonathan had found them, and she wasn’t fool enough to believe the delivery of her wedding ring was the endgame in his twisted plans. With her father gone, Paul and Joyce were the closest people she had left to family. Jonathan would know she’d head here first. “What’s your connection to Jonathan Everson?”

  “Why don’t we all sit down?” Joyce’s soft suggestion broke through the hostility swirling about the room like riptide currents. “I’m sure if we give him a chance, Mr. McLean will be more than willing to answer any questions we may have. Ah, here’s Temmy with the coffee.”

  In her element, Joyce took charge of the situation, inviting McLean to take a seat on the wingback chair across from her. Her effortless execution as the perfect hostess masked the will of steel Nicky knew to be there. The senator’s wife was just as eager to discover the man’s agenda as Nicky and Paul. Joyce was simply more diplomatic in her approach to getting those answers. Like a female, civilian version of the classic good cop/bad cop routine, her southern manners were a perfect counter to Nicky’s angry demands. McLean didn’t stand a chance against Joyce’s steel-tipped charm.

  Paul nodded and gave Nicky a reassuring smile, indicating a spot on the couch where she should sit. She bristled with impatience but complied.

  “Now, Mr. McLean—”

  “Rhyder, ma’am.” His drawl echoed Joyce’s. “Rhy to my friends.”

  A smile curved her lips. “Ah, a fellow Southerner.”

  Temmy deposited the silver service on the coffee table before slipping from the room. Joyce held up the carafe in silent inquiry.

  “I take mine black.”

  Joyce took her time, pouring him a cup then performing the same for each of them. Nicky waved off the offered coffee, impatiently tapping her foot and willing Joyce to get on with it.

  Joyce smiled serenely and relaxed back on the couch. “Where is it you call home, Rhy?”

  “I live in DC these days, but Atlanta will always be home.”

  “A lovely town. Paul and I spent several days there last spring. We enjoyed a tour of some spectacular old homes.”

  For several minutes, Nicky listened in disbelief while the merits of Atlanta’s historical structures were discussed. The exercise was excruciating. Her jangled nerves neared the snapping point when Joyce finally brought the conversation back around to the reason they were all there.

  “I must confess, I’m as curious as my husband and Nicky as to your connection to Jonathan Everson. From what I know of Global Shield’s current dealings in the Middle East, and the security clearance required, I can’t picture you being involved with a man of such nefarious business connections.”

  Nicky stifled a smirk. If McLean had underestimated Joyce, he’d just been apprised of his mistake with her obvious knowledge of his firm’s high-level dealings with the Pentagon. Of course, anyone who knew anything about the workings of this town understood the Hawleys were a team. The senator’s wife was no one’s fool.

  McLean sipped from his cup before answering. “I currently have no direct connection to Everson. However, I do know him. I came here today because I plan to find him and make sure he pays for his crimes.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.” Nicky sat forward to pin him with a demanding stare. “Just how do you know him?”

  Hard, blue eyes met Nicky’s suspicious ones. “We were in the same unit in Afghanistan.” As if that told her all she needed to know, McLean faced Paul. “According to the disk you gave WBC, Everson did business with certain parties in Somalia.”

  Paul nodded his confirmation but remained silent.

  “My older brother’s unit was attached to the United Nations. As part of its peacekeeping force, they were there simply to observe. He and two others came back in body bags, courtesy of Everson’s Somalian associates.”

  “I’m sorry,” Paul said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, too.” Joyce’s sigh was soft as she flicked a sharp gaze at Nicky. “It seems the evil of Jonathan Everson has touched all our lives.”

  Nicky made no comment on the man’s loss. Although she was relieved their meeting on the shuttle was apparently a coincidence, and she could empathize with what he’d suffered at Jonathan’s hands, every bit of energy she could muster was focused on how she was going to protect her son from Jonathan’s menace.

  McLean accepted their condolences with a curt nod. “I’m going after him.” Determination gleamed in his eyes. “I’ve seen what’s on the disk, Senator. Considering the amount of information it contains, you know Everson better than anyone.”

  Paul raised a brow. “I’m impressed. The way the media notoriously guards the exclusivity of a story of this magnitude, your having gained access to the disk before the story has technically hit the airwaves is nothing short of miraculous.” He cupped his chin in one hand and rubbed his thumb over his jaw. “Or did you gain access from someone at the Justice Department?”

  “I have good sources.” McLean returned Paul’s intent regard, not quite answering his question. “And I know how to protect them.”

  “Obviously.” A slight smile tugged at Paul’s lips. “Global Shield has a reputation for getting things done, inside the Beltway and out. I can see that reputation hasn’t been exaggerated.” He crossed one knee over the other and studied the younger man with shrewd eyes. “The information on the disk wasn’t gathered by me, but by Thomas Guimond. The disk was his.”

  McLean’s head spun in Nicky’s direction. She ignored him, holding out a hand. “Paul, please.”

  “We’re all after the same thing, Nicky. Finding Everson.”

  “But—”

  Paul waved away any argument she might have made. “The entire story will be out in a matter of hours. There’s no advantage to keeping quiet any longer.”

  Nicky disagreed. Unless or until he volunteered the information, the role Paul played in Cambodia would remain secret. Announcing his role in the venture would give Jonathan one more victim in his hateful war. “There has to be another way.”

  Joyce laid a comforting hand on her arm and squeezed, but her eyes remained on her husband. They shared another of those unspoken communications across the coffee table.

  Paul smiled then shook his head. “There isn’t another way. Not anymo
re.” He addressed McLean. “You haven’t asked why the General never released the disk himself.”

  “I’d assumed the disk was yours, since it was in your possession, but I’d appreciate any information you can give me.”

  Chapter Five

  Impatience and uneasiness battled for the upper hand as Rhy waited for the senator’s reply. If what the man said was true, and the disk belonged to General Guimond, Everson’s father-in-law had been documenting his criminal activities for half a decade. Yet according to Rhy’s sources, the estrangement between the General and his only daughter was due to his disappointment over her divorce from Everson barely a year after their marriage.

  Why would the General be angry with his daughter for leaving a man he knew to be a criminal? More importantly, why would he go to such great lengths to keep tabs on Everson, only to keep the damning information to himself?

  Something didn’t add up.

  The General’s daughter—Nicky, he corrected silently—shifted nervously in her chair. The grainy photo Everson included in the packet he’d presented Rhy hadn’t done her justice. Still, though she’d been in disguise when she climbed aboard the airport shuttle, her eyes left no doubt he’d found his target. Large and exotically tilted, they blazed with an emerald heat capable of bringing a man to his knees if he wasn’t careful. As it had then, her gaze skittered past his, and he experienced the same punch to his solar plexus. Disgust simmered low in his belly as he attempted to squelch his body’s natural reaction.

  Nicky was a tiny thing, five-two tops. The baseball cap and casual clothes she wore added to the illusion of youth. He knew her to be twenty-five, yet she appeared barely old enough to have graduated from high school.

  She was beautiful. The mix of her French and Asian parentage had come together with classically stunning results, combining an enticing swath of black, silky hair with a creamy complexion and a slim build. He could see why Everson had fallen for her¸ despite her calculating heart.

  Those large green eyes dominated her dangerously pale face as they pleaded silently with the senator. Fine lines of anxiety bracketed her wide mouth and puckered her brow, as if she held herself together through sheer force of will. Dismay marred the perfection of her fine-boned face. Rhy had seen the same desperation in the faces of countless soldiers on the battlefield.

  Obviously, the release of the disk represented more than an exposé on Everson’s illegal activities. The entire story would be out in a matter of hours? What story? Rhy considered several possible implications conjured up by the senator and Nicky’s cryptic conversation. The most logical answer was Thomas Guimond had been protecting someone. Instinct said that someone was in this room.

  From the warning looks she kept shooting at the senator, Nicky wasn’t happy with the direction of the conversation, and though it was possible the senator’s serene wife had gotten herself into some kind of trouble, Rhy’s gut told him the senator was at the center of the situation. He would certainly have the most to lose.

  Rhy’s instincts proved correct when the older man’s chest rose on a resigned sigh.

  “Thomas was protecting me.”

  “Paul, think about what you’re doing, please!” Nicky jumped to her feet and flung an arm in Rhy’s direction. “Who is this guy? For all we know, he’s on Jonathan’s payroll.”

  The fundamental truth of the barb hit its mark, slicing at Rhy’s pride. In a way, he had been in Everson’s employ when he followed her back to Flagstaff, and though the job he’d performed was a just one, the knowledge that he’d been used by the man responsible for his brother’s death left him seething. He clenched his teeth and turned his fury on Everson’s ex-wife. His steely glare normally made even the toughest members of his team tread lightly. The General’s daughter simply lifted her chin. Her narrowed eyes mirrored his hostility.

  “I don’t think so,” Paul answered before Rhy could defend himself. “Verifying the circumstances of his brother’s death is a simple matter of picking up the phone. He knows that. There’d be no point in him lying about it. As far as the rest…”

  Nicky opened her mouth, but Paul cut her off.

  “I have thought about what I’m doing, and I’m tired of the pretense. By tomorrow morning, the entire world will know Thomas wasn’t alone in his endeavor to provide weapons to your mother’s family against the Khmer Rouge.”

  Holy shit! Rhy jerked his head back around to stare at the man most people considered a shoo-in for the next president of the United States. Just what had he stumbled into?

  The senator continued in a voice much too calm for the subject at hand. “Forty years ago, Thomas Guimond was instrumental in providing desperately needed weaponry to certain individuals in Cambodia after the United States withdrew its support. Everson found out and used the knowledge to stop Thomas from exposing his illegal activities to the world. Everson assumed Thomas remained silent to protect his career. That wasn’t the case. Thomas didn’t act alone in Cambodia. I played a small but vital role in that particular endeavor.”

  Nicky’s hissed breath drew Rhy’s gaze. Her eyes slid shut and her shoulders slumped. Wordlessly, she dropped back onto the couch.

  “You can imagine how damaging information of this type could be to someone in my position.”

  Rhy nodded his understanding, giving the senator his full attention.

  “Thomas feared what would happen if the details ever got out and was unwilling to take any chances my political career would be harmed. My best friend held in his hand the weapon that would have permanently removed Everson’s malevolent influence from his daughter’s life. Because of his love for me, he held back.” Paul turned tortured eyes on Nicky. “I’m ashamed I let him.”

  Nicky’s eyes flew open, and though they shimmered with unshed tears, she expelled a sharp breath on a derisive huff. “You didn’t let him. No one ever let Dad do anything, and you know it. Remaining silent was his choice and mine. Don’t you dare blame yourself on my account.”

  Nicky held Paul’s guilty regard for a long moment, then her chest fluttered on a ragged breath. “I know this isn’t easy for you.” She offered Joyce a strained smile. “Either of you. It’s a complicated story and will take some time to explain.” She rose to her feet. “I’ve got some plans to make, so I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Actually, I’d like you to stay.” Paul rose and stepped around the table to stop Nicky before she could move toward the door.

  “Paul, I…” Nicky raised her hands, palms up, as if in supplication. “I need to keep Alex safe,” she whispered starkly.

  Paul took her elbow. “Which is the exact reason I want you to stay. I think Mr. McLean might be of some help there.”

  Rhy straightened in his chair as three sets of eyes pinned him in place. The senator and his wife considered him with varying degrees of calculation, his eyes hard and probing, hers cautiously hopeful. The hostility in Nicky’s said she wasn’t interested in whatever the senator was suggesting.

  “What, exactly, are we talking about here, Senator?”

  Paul’s lips thinned in anger. “You’re not the only one who wants to see Everson brought to justice. We have reason to believe Everson is an imminent threat to Nicky and her four-year-old son, Alex.”

  Unease shimmied up Rhy’s spine. The friendship between the Hawleys and General Guimond was well known, and their affection for the man’s daughter understandable, but were they privy to her true nature? Did they know Everson had two million reasons to want to find his runaway wife? Rhy slid his gaze to Nicky. “Why would you think Everson is a danger to you? As you said, your marriage ended long ago.”

  Nicky hesitated a moment, revulsion emanating from every inch of her slender frame, then shoved her fingers into the front pocket of her faded jeans. When she pulled her hand back out, Everson’s calling card, a delicate band of gold capped with a perfectly cut, yellow diamond, rested in her palm. Bending forward, she dropped it on the center of the table between them. The ring bounce
d and pinged on the glass surface before coming to a stop. She stepped back and scrubbed her hand on her thigh as if to wipe away contamination.

  Nicky flicked out her hand, indicating the sparkling band. “I found that on my nightstand this morning. The last time I saw that ring was on the day I left Jonathan, five years ago.”

  A vein pulsed in Rhy’s head as he stared at the wedding band he’d carried across most of the country. Unfortunately, news of the disk and its damning details hadn’t reached him until after he’d repaid his debt to Everson. Fury simmered in his gut at the lost opportunity to reel his brother’s killer in. Nothing he could do about that now, but the boy represented new possibilities. From the surprise in Everson’s voice when they spoke, he hadn’t been aware of his son’s existence. He was now.

  Rhy lifted his gaze to Nicky’s. “Is Everson the boy’s father?”

  Her eyes flashed with heat. “He has that biological distinction, but Alex has no father.”

  Rhy stared at Nicky, but it was Pamela’s blue eyes he saw, full of hostile contempt where there once was love as she denied Rhy the right to see his daughter. A familiar rush of impotent fury coursed through his veins, and he forced the caustic memory from his mind. Nicky Everson wasn’t his ex-wife, but they obviously followed the same playbook.

  Sitting back, Rhy crossed one knee over the other. Everson didn’t deserve his sympathy. He was a criminal responsible for Brian’s death, but the boy was still his son. “I doubt his father agrees with that sentiment.”

  Nicky lifted her chin at his challenging tone. “Alex is my son.”

  A disdainful snort flared Rhy’s nostrils. “I’m not here to immerse myself in a custody battle, Mrs. Everson.”

  Her eyes full of cool regard, Nicky spun away, effectively dismissing him. A situation that suited him just fine.

  “Forget it, Paul. You’re right. Running is no longer an option, but I’ll find Jonathan myself.”

  That didn’t suit Rhy at all. He leaned forward in his chair, regaining her attention. “Good luck with that, but while you’re chasing after your ex, don’t get in my way. You won’t like the consequences.”