Lethal Peril_Military Romantic Suspense

by Emily Jane Trent

  When Kyle looked up, he said, “I can see that stock was liquidated. Is that a crime?”

  “It is if it’s unauthorized, and if the funds show up in a personal account.” Beth let that sink in for a second. “Uncle Martin accused me of embezzlement.”

  “He told me funds were missing.”

  “And you didn’t think to question him?” Beth stared at her brother.

  Kyle shrugged. “Why would I?”

  “Clearly, our uncle manipulated those funds.”

  “I knew nothing about it,” Kyle said, holding his hands up. “Uncle Martin asked me to sell the stock. He said the liquidation was part of a big deal that was in progress. It was vital to the company, and couldn’t be revealed just yet.”

  “And you believed him?”

  Kyle sat up straighter. “Of course I did. I had no reason not to.”

  “You need to understand the position your sister is in,” Wyatt said.

  “I was accused of wrongdoing,” Beth said.

  Kyle furrowed his brow. “I didn’t know anything about it. I don’t track funds through accounting, unless there’s cause. I didn’t realize the profit went into Martin’s account.” He paused. “You have to believe me.”

  “Beth was framed,” Wyatt said.

  “I can see that the accusation was false. I’m just acting CEO, you know. Without Dad there, Uncle Martin runs things—he gives me directions, and I had no basis to refuse. If I do a good job, I might run the company for real one day.”

  Silence followed. Kyle looked at Beth. Wyatt looked at Kyle.

  Then Beth let out a long sigh. “Jesus, Kyle, you’re my brother. You need to wise up.” She stood up and paced the floor. “I can see that our uncle pulls the strings. I get that, okay?”

  Kyle looked relieved.

  “You aren’t the conniving type,” Beth said. “You wouldn’t have thought of perpetrating lies. That’s why I was so confused.”

  A shadow crossed Kyle’s face. “Somebody is trying to kill you?”

  “There have been a few attempts,” Wyatt said. “I’m staying close to make sure the killer doesn’t succeed.”

  Kyle stood and raked both hands in his hair. “That changes everything.” He turned toward his sister. “Do you think our uncle is after you…wants you dead?” He shook his head. “It’s inconceivable.”

  “I don’t want you to say anything to him, not just yet,” Beth said. “Martin is using you; he thinks you are oblivious to his tricks. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Kyle looked incredulous. “I can’t just keep quiet if he’s trying to have you murdered.”

  “Yes, you can…for now.” Beth sat on the edge of the chair. “Don’t let him know that you’ve caught on. You might be able to help me.”

  “How?” Kyle said. “What can I do?”

  “Our uncle is up to something…very bad. I just don’t know enough yet.”

  “You need to go the police,” Kyle said. “Maybe they can find out who is trying to kill you…at least offer protection.”

  Beth shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She looked at her brother. “If I go to the police, Uncle Martin will have some explaining to do. But he’s a slimy one. It’s too early to reveal my hand. I have to get the goods on him before I go to law enforcement.”

  Kyle didn’t say anything.

  “Try to understand,” Beth said. “It’s my life we’re talking about.”

  When Kyle went over to her, Beth stood up and gave him a hug. There were tears in her eyes. “It’s just good to know that you aren’t in on it.”

  Kyle held her at arm’s length. “You should know me better than that. I admit that I was duped by a man who is family. But I wouldn’t intentionally harm you.”

  “It’s frightening,” Beth said. “I wasn’t sure where to turn, and if I could trust anyone.”

  Kyle hugged her again, then released her. “He won’t get away with it. Uncle Martin has had his issues, and I haven’t been particularly fond of him. But this is beyond the pale.”

  “I have to go,” Beth said. “For now, just pretend we didn’t talk. You don’t know anything.”

  “I’ll do my best, even though I still think you should inform the police.”

  Beth kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Kyle.”

  Wyatt followed her out, leaving her brother to recover from the visit. Once in the fresh air, Beth said, “Let’s walk a bit. I need some space to process all of this.”

  “We need to talk, figure out what’s next. Kyle wasn’t much help; he didn’t know any more than we do.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Beth took his arm and walked down the sidewalk. “But I’m telling you, this deception goes much deeper than I’d thought.”

  Wyatt liked having Beth on his arm. He drew her closer, wishing he could wrap her in a protective embrace. She’d bravely faced her brother without knowing what she’d find out. It could have gone much differently.

  “I’d foolishly hoped that my brother would confess, that he’d trumped up the charges against me, along with my uncle. That he’d explain it all, make sense of the situation,” Beth said. “Uncle Martin could have come to him with a plea for pity, asking for money.”

  “You thought you’d find reassurance that your family wasn’t behind attempted murder?”

  Beth stopped and looked up at him. “Stupid, right? I mean, what does it take? But I hadn’t been able to fully accept the situation. It was easier to hold out believing there was an explanation, that some stranger was after me, not my own uncle.”

  “And what do you think now?”

  Beth narrowed her eyes. “My uncle has set the rules, so he can suffer the consequences. It’s time to beat him at his own game.”

  “And just how do you propose we do that?”

  “I might have clung to a shred of hope,” Beth said, “but that doesn’t mean I haven’t prepared for the worst.”

  Wyatt saw the look in her eyes. She was mad now—heaven help Martin Foster. Whatever situation he’d gotten himself into paled in comparison with what he’d soon experience. Beth was a force to reckon with; she had been since he’d known her. When pushed, she’d push back. And she’d had enough.

  “Call a cab, and take me to an internet café.” Beth smiled. “My computer is out of commission. And I need to look something up.”

  Wyatt didn’t ask. He’d find out soon enough.

  *****

  The place wasn’t too busy, and Beth took a seat with empty booths on both sides. “Good, I won’t have some idiot looking over my shoulder.”

  Wyatt took a seat to wait, and let her search without interruptions.

  When Beth had copied her brother’s hard drive, she’d also set up remote access, since it would come in handy later. First she installed a private network, so nobody could tap into her searches. Technically, she wasn’t allowed to do that on a public computer, but she’d uninstall it before she left.

  There was no need to broadcast the information she was about to access, so she clicked into incognito browsing. The password she’d set up worked, and remote access to Kyle’s computer was authorized. Good so far. Now she just had to find what she was looking for.

  Only Beth wasn’t certain what that was. If Martin operated under the radar, there had to be evidence. Sure, he would have covered his tracks if he could have. Yet there were usually mistakes. More than once, Beth had discovered the undiscoverable in her research. One clue had lead to another, until the picture had become clear.

  She needed information that she could use, and it had to be there. Computers left records; that was what they could be counted on for. And Martin had to have made a mistake in his haste to save his own ass. “I’m going to get you…you traitor.”

  She spoke to the computer, cajoling it to help her. “Tell me what I need to know…come on. I know you have it.”

  Clicking away, Beth searched for what wasn’t obvious, anything that was a red flag or didn’t make sense. Hours flew by. Her stomach
rumbled and she was parched, yet she wouldn’t stop. This was her chance, a way to gain the upper hand. It was all about information, knowing Martin’s secrets. And she was positive that he had them.

  Then there it was, disguised as a legitimate purchase. Martin had paid an exorbitant fee for a speedboat. He’d been smart enough not to write a company check, yet he’d kept a record of the transaction—an oversight that would cost him, big time. He’d taken pains to hide it, so it must have been important.

  There were more details, facts that might prove useful. Beth encrypted the information and emailed it to Cooper. He’d understand it, maybe better than she did. Further searching didn’t net anything more, so she logged out.

  Beth was hopeful, her morale high. One mistake meant there were more. And she’d find them, every one. Martin’s days were numbered. He’d crossed the wrong woman and would live to regret it. She got up and waved to Wyatt that it was time to leave, anxious to fill him in on what she’d discovered. Maybe he’d know the significance of it.

  Wyatt pushed the door open, and Beth stepped outside. It was nearly dark; she’d been in there longer than she’d thought. “I’m starving,” she said. “You need to feed me.”

  “Only if you tell me what you found out in there,” Wyatt said. “I see that look on your face.”

  “What look is that?”

  “Uh huh…I think you know. Is barbecue okay? I know a decent place a few blocks over.”

  The mere mention of food made her stomach growl. “Lead the way,” Beth said. “If I don’t eat soon, you’ll have to carry me.”

  As Wyatt had promised, the restaurant wasn’t far. He secured a booth with some privacy, and they ordered ribs. Beth had a beer to go with it, and Wyatt stuck to Coke. Before she could tell him what she’d found, Beth devoured a chunk of bread slathered with butter, and washed it down with a few gulps of beer. “Those ribs better hurry up.”

  “So…let’s hear it. I know you learned something. It’s time to share.”

  First, Beth told him how she’d set up remote access to Kyle’s computer, and that it had worked without a hitch at the café.

  “You’re very resourceful.”

  Beth took another gulp of beer. “I’m trying to stay alive.”

  Wyatt waited, sipping his Coke.

  “So, get this…” Beth leaned across the table and told him what she’d learned. As she spoke, things became clearer.

  Wyatt was impressed. “You got into some interesting records. A speedboat, huh? I don’t think your uncle is into sport.”

  The waiter slid the plates of food in front of them. “Can I get you anything else?” Wyatt shook his head.

  Beth stared at the food, then leaned back and put her hands over her eyes. When she uncovered them, Wyatt was looking at her.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Wyatt didn’t move.

  “I just realized what was so bloody interesting about my journals, what had my uncle so freaked out.” Beth rubbed her face. “It’s ridiculous that my journals were taken. I recall every word I’ve written. I can just recreate it. And by stealing them, it pointed out that there was something significant in there.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “In the world of shipping, drug smuggling is rampant. Of course, my father hadn’t fallen prey to the temptation. I’m sure of it,” Beth said. “But illegal goods come into the country via container ships all the time.”

  Wyatt’s eyes lit up, as if he was catching on.

  “I sketched about it, drew cartoons of modern-day pirates, transporting contraband. It’s drugs mostly; that’s big money. A shipping company looking for more profits could get into smuggling. It’s done all the time.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I researched it, don’t you see?” Beth was excited. “I found it intriguing that polite society hasn’t a clue. Respected citizens serve as distribution points. It could be anyone, someone you wouldn’t suspect.”

  “I see where you’re going with this.”

  “I’ve got him; this is it. My uncle must have freaked out when he knew what I’d dug up. I didn’t hide it. I’d had no reason to. It was a purely intellectual exercise, cartooning fodder.”

  Wyatt smiled. “But you hit too close to home. Martin is desperate for money to save his own hide, and he’d have no moral compunction about drug running. It would provide the answer to his woes.”

  “That’s got to be how he plans to get the money,” Beth said. “No wonder.” She shook her head. “It adds up. It makes sense that he wants me out of the way, but…”

  Wyatt finished the sentence for her. “But…that doesn’t explain why he wants you dead.”

  Chapter 13

  Beth refused to dwell on the negative. If any moment could be her last, then she might as well enjoy the ribs. This place had some of the best barbecue around. The smoked meat was slow-cooked, slathered in sauce, and served crispy. The pork was succulent on its own, but the tangy sauce made it out of this world.

  “I suppose this tastes especially good, because I was so hungry,” Beth said, wiping her greasy hands on a napkin. She looked over at Wyatt, tearing the last bits of meat off the bone with his teeth. He had sauce all over his hands and some on his face.

  Beth liked to see a man eat, and Wyatt could keep up with the best of them. He’d cleaned his plate, including all the coleslaw, corn on the cob, and the jalapeño cornbread. All that remained was bones, smears of sauce, and drips of butter. A mountain of wadded-up napkins was piled beside his plate, and he tossed them into the middle of it, then shoved it aside. “That was damn good.”

  Beth grinned. “You want the rest of my slaw?”

  Wyatt eyed it, then lifted a hand. “I’m stuffed.”

  Beth was relieved that she’d had a breakthrough. To celebrate, she’d ordered another beer. Now sated from the food, and relaxed by the alcohol, she leaned back. There wasn’t much she could do for the rest of the night. Cooper had the data she’d sent, and Jessica was digging on her end.

  Although the plot against her hadn’t been unveiled as yet, she’d made significant headway. It was only a matter of time until the rest of the evil unraveled. Then Beth would have her life back. What she needed was a break.

  The aura of the wedding lingered. Visions of the bride surrounded by bridesmaids in blue satin were unforgettable. The blue sky overhead, the romantic music, and the warmth of friendship and love had swept Beth into a dream world that hadn’t quite vanished.

  Beth wasn’t ready for the wispy memories to fade. Not just yet. Eventually, life would rise up and pull her back to reality. But there was no harm in delaying that fate. “Do you know what I want to do?”

  Wyatt’s expression was soft, his dark eyes warm; he might have agreed to anything just then.

  “I want to go dancing,” Beth said, “with you.”

  “I faked you out, and you think I can actually dance?”

  Beth laughed. “You move awfully well. I’ll settle for that.”

  “Do you have a place in mind?”

  “Only the club that has the best dancing in New York.” For years Beth had frequented the Bell House. It had recently moved to its current location, which was an improvement, since the new building had an added bonus: a working ventilation system.

  DJs played eclectic blends of music, with hip-hop, blues, rock, and even reggae. The regulars had bemoaned the relocation, complaining that the club had lost its grittiness. But Beth liked it as much as ever; the music hadn’t suffered from the change in venue.

  The cab ride was entertaining, as Wyatt talked more than he had since she’d sought him out in LA. She tried to remember whether they used to talk much, but her youth seemed like the distant past, and she honestly couldn’t recall.

  Mostly, she’d argued with him on any topic that had been handy. Now she couldn’t remember the basis for even one of the disagreements she’d had with him. Whatever she’d found to bicker about couldn’t have been as important as it had seem
ed at the time.

  While Wyatt told her about the Navy—what he was allowed to share, anyway—Beth surreptitiously lusted for his fine body. The denim of his jeans stretched over his lean but muscular thighs. His strong arms strained against the sleeves of his jacket. And his longish hair was silky, and gleamed under the city lights as the buildings rolled past.

  The air was tense with sexual desire, mostly hers. Beth listened to the sound of Wyatt’s deep voice, watched the sparkle of his dark eyes, and when his jacket fell open, tried not to stare at his flat abdomen. He was quite a specimen of masculinity, virile and delectable.

  Wyatt was tough, his looks rugged. Yet he had a softer side, one that Beth wished to cuddle up to. She wanted to fall into his warm embrace and listen to the beat of his heart. But for now, she’d settle for a slow dance.

  The cab slowed and pulled to the curb. A smile lifted the corners of Wyatt’s mouth. “Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

  “Huh? Of course I heard you.” Beth rolled her eyes.

  “I thought it was men who were lousy listeners,” Wyatt said, then took her hand to help her out.

  The place was in a former warehouse in Brooklyn. The main hall had an upscale feel, with striking chandeliers and arched wooden ceilings. There was a dimly lit lounge in the front offering a respite from the crowds and music. Beth ordered a shaken cocktail, but Wyatt was on duty, so stuck to club soda.

  Although Wyatt was ever vigilant, Beth figured she was briefly out of harm’s way. Even while talking, Wyatt had kept an eye out, and had mentioned he was sure the cab hadn’t been followed. That put her mind at ease, since there was little likelihood of the bad guys showing up.

  Beth grabbed Wyatt’s wrist and pulled him over to a table. The music was Green Day’s “Oh Love.” She nursed her cocktail through the song, but when “Let Yourself Go” came on, she had to dance. Wyatt was athletic and danced fast as well as he did slow.

  It was a joy to watch Wyatt’s hips move, plus have a chance to stare unabashedly at his solid chest and shoulders. In the dim lighting, he was sexier than hell, and had the moves to go with it. Beth caught glimpses of other guys around her, with black jeans, silver chains, and spiked hair.