Trouble With the Law

by Becky McGraw

  “Does my Mama know you slept in here with me?” God only knew what she thought, if she did know. He didn’t want her to think he and Ronnie were a couple.

  “Yeah, she does. I told her I was going to check on you. She was fine with it.”

  Trace grunted. Checking on him constituted sleeping the night in bed with him? He didn’t think so. Allison Rooks didn’t know the full story about Ronnie’s part in him going to jail, but she knew enough to hate Ronnie as much as he had before. Somehow he didn’t think she would be fine with him sleeping with this woman right under her nose.

  “Well you need to get out of here, before everyone wakes up.” Trace glanced at the window and saw bright sunlight outside through the crack between the curtains. It had to be at least ten in the morning. His mother might already be up. Wouldn’t that just be wonderful?

  “They’re not up. Your mother helped the girls get bathed and settled, and washed up their clothes. She just went to bed not long ago. Dave was up questioning those guys we captured until a bit ago, so he’s sleeping too. He said he had a lead on where Ray Brown is, but he needed some sleep before he went after him.” The red lines in Ronnie’s eyes, and her tired voice told him she hadn’t been in bed long either.

  Perfect. He was stuck with her for now. Trace sighed. “Let’s get some sleep then,” he said gruffly. “You look like hell.”

  Her full lips kicked up on one side. “Always the charmer, eh Rooks?” Ronnie replied with a short laugh.

  “Always the pain in the ass, eh Winters?” he retorted, flipping the covers back over them. “Stay on your side of the bed,” he warned. It was a queen-sized bed, but not nearly big enough with her in it with him. Trace scooted toward the edge a little, stifling a groan as the stitches in his side pulled.

  “Scared I’m going to take advantage of you?” she asked snuggling into her pillow.

  Memories of her smart mouth wrapped around his cock flitted through Trace’s mind, and he got painfully hard again. He put his hand under the cover to stroke himself. He wished she’d take advantage of him like that again. His mind and his cock wanted it badly, but his body had other ideas. Like sleep. He was exhausted, sore and his side hurt. “Just keep your hands to yourself, Red. I’m injured, remember?”

  There was silence for a moment, before she said, “Yeah, I remember.” Trace closed his eyes and his body relaxed until she added quietly, “I’m glad you didn’t die, Rooks.”

  Her words were slurred, but he could hear the emotion behind them. She meant it, and that meant trouble for him. Ronnie getting attached to him, caring about him, was not something he wanted. They weren’t friends, they weren’t lovers, they had sex. Almost twice. That was it. The end. The sooner he could get her out of his life and back to being the feared Shark Lady, the better. Then he could figure out his own life. If he still had one when this was over. With a heavy sigh, Trace closed his eyes and reached for the sleep he knew was going to be hard to find again now.

  Loud knocking jarred him back to consciousness. He looked down and realized Ronnie was plastered to him again. She snuggled her face into his shoulder, but didn’t wake up. The door flew inward, and Conner Lucas filled the doorway with his hands on his hips. His dark hair was stuck up in fifty directions on his head. The white dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned almost to the waist and wrinkled like he’d slept in it. A big brown stain which was probably from coffee painted the right side. His grey slacks were as wrinkled as his shirt, and his loafers were covered in dust.

  Trace’s eyes moved up to his face and his red eyes and bearded jaw made it look like he hadn’t slept in days. And the flush near his cheekbones made it was obvious he was pissed. His eyes slid to Ronnie and his jaw tightened. “Vee, get your ass out of bed,” he grated in a low, lethal tone.

  “She was up all night,” Trace informed quietly. “Let her sleep.”

  She was comfortable, and despite how he felt about her, so was Trace. He hadn’t slept all night with a woman in years. Ronnie wouldn’t be the woman he picked to break that pattern with, but she was here and she felt good.

  One dark brow lifted over Conner Lucas’s blue eyes. “I bet she was up all night,” he said angrily. His glittering eyes told Trace what he thought they’d been doing all night. “I don’t really give a damn. I’ve been up for three days trying to get the stuff she wanted together. Now she needs to get the hell up and help me go through it.” Conner took a deep breath, then said a little louder, “Vee, get your ass up!”

  The hand she rested in the center of his chest slid under the covers and slowly downward leaving a trail of fire until he stopped it with his own just short of his navel.

  “She’ll be down in a minute,” Trace said firmly.

  “Well she better be, or I’m out of here in fifteen minutes and she can figure this mess out on her own,” Conner said and turned, slamming the door behind him. Trace had wondered about Ronnie’s relationship with Conner Lucas. From the level of his agitation just now, he didn’t think it was solely from exhaustion. The man was jealous.

  “Are you and Conner Lucas more than friends?” The question slipped out. Even though he didn’t have the right to ask, Trace wanted to know.

  Ronnie sighed and he felt it inside of him. It was a heavy sigh. One that spoke words that she probably wouldn’t voice. Yeah, they had been lovers. Trace tensed up and she slid her hand back up his chest, then looked up at him. “No. We figured out we are too much alike. He’s my best friend. That’s all.”

  Figured out. That meant she’d probably tested the waters with him. Slept with him. That explained things, and it didn’t settle well inside of him. Trace refused to label it as jealousy he was feeling. “I didn’t even know you had friends. People are scared of you, but they don’t particularly like you, Red,” Trace said meanly.

  Why he was poking her he didn’t know. But knowing she and Conner Lucas had been lovers, and having to be around both of them with that knowledge was not comfortable for him. Especially since Trace had sex with her too, and Conner knew that now. He was not going to get into an alpha male pissing contest with the man. It was obvious to Trace, even if Ronnie didn’t see it, that Conner was still interested in being more than her friend. He could have her.

  Ronnie gasped and pushed against his chest to sit up. Her angry amber eyes met his. “I have friends. I’m just particular about who I befriend,” she said indignantly as she threw back the covers. She scooted to the edge of the bed and ran her hands through her thick auburn hair, then stood and walked naked toward the bathroom. Trace’s eyes followed the sway of her round ass until she disappeared inside and slammed the door.

  Well that pretty much cemented the fact that he wouldn’t be counted in that particular group. And Trace was okay with that. If she was mad at him, maybe that softer side wouldn’t reappear to make him think he might have misjudged the Shark Lady. Dave Logan needed to find Ray Brown quickly, so they could all get past this. So he could get away from her for good. Before he did something stupid, like care for her. There was a fine line between love and hate, and Trace had already moved on the other side of hate with her. He pushed back the covers and got out of bed.

  He wobbled on his feet a moment then got his balance, before walking to the dresser. He opened and closed drawers until he found a clean pair of camo pants that might fit him, and a size too small t-shirt. He dressed carefully, and left the waistband of the pants unsnapped so it didn’t press on his bandage and stitches, then walked out of the bedroom to go find Dave.

  Ronnie towel dried her hair and threw the towel across the steamy bathroom. She did not get emotional, so the mini breakdown she had in the shower shocked the crap out of her. It seemed like everything had crashed down on her shoulders at once. The scene last night in those woods, the women’s sad tales they related last night about their families and how they ended up hostages in a foreign country, then her conversation with Trace’s mother after they were all bedded down. That had been the worst. Allison Rooks had cal
led her a selfish bitch. And the woman was right. That is how Ronnie had lived her life until recently. She realized that now. Self-serving. Abrasive. Definitely not friend material.

  When Trace pointed that out this morning, that had been the final straw. Both he and his mother were right about her, and it was an eye-opener for Ronnie. Even though people feared her, they didn’t respect her. They detested her. It was a sad fact but true. She didn’t have any friends. Dave was only her friend because he felt sorry for her. Conner was her friend because they were just alike. Driven to win at any cost. Self-centered and self-serving. Even he couldn’t tolerate her at times.

  And Ronnie was alone, all because of how she chose to live her life.

  Considering her parents, and how she was raised, it was understandable that she turned out the way she had. Yeah, she was successful in her professional life, because she was determined to get her father’s attention by being better at the law than he was. But her personal life sucked. She didn’t have one, because she had sunk her entire identity into her work trying to gain her father’s approval.

  A man who didn’t have any close friends either, because he was an asshole.

  And she had become just like him.

  But this pity party wasn’t getting her anywhere. Ronnie needed to get herself together and get downstairs so she could start atoning to the people she had hurt. Trace and his mother would probably never forgive her, but she was going to forgive herself. And from here on out, Ronnie Winters was going to be a different person. Breaking old habits were going to be hard, but she was just as determined to change as she had been to be better than her father. She would be better than him at life. Fuck the career. In the end that didn’t mean a damned thing if she was alone to enjoy her success like he was.

  Maybe she’d quit the firm and be a public defender. Help women like those they’d rescued. Losing all the money she earned would take an adjustment, but she would have something more valuable than a Mercedes convertible. She’d have her self-respect back. Ronnie wrapped a towel around her body and walked down to the hall to find the clothes she’d washed yesterday.

  On the way out the bedroom door, she glanced at the bedside clock. Conner would leave if she didn’t hurry. She knew he wasn’t kidding when he said that sixteen minutes ago. After she dressed, Ronnie double-timed it down the stairs and power walked to the dining room, where she saw thick manila file folders spread on the huge dining table. Nobody was in the room, and she hoped that Conner was still there. She turned to go search the house for him, but he appeared at the doorway with a box in his arms. He looked like shit, and he was extremely angry. His handsome face was flushed and his jaw tight.

  “It’s about damned time you decided to come help. This is the last box,” he said walking to the table to plop it down on the white lace tablecloth. She flinched, because the box wasn’t exactly clean. His mother was going to have a conniption if he ruined the obvious heirloom. But hell, if she didn’t want it ruined, she shouldn’t have used it at a fricking hunting lodge.

  “I didn’t go to sleep until six this morning,” Ronnie said defensively then reined herself in, because her friend looked to be in a lot worse shape than she was. “I see that you probably haven’t slept at all. I’m sorry, and thank you for your help.”

  Conner’s head rocked back on his shoulders and his eyebrows lifted over his tired eyes. “Holy shit! You been drinking the Kool-aid around here, Vee?”

  Ronnie sighed. Nope, this wasn’t going to be easy. It would definitely be awkward to the people who knew her. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Get used to it,” Ronnie informed gruffly. She glanced at the label on the box, which was scrawled in black marker. “Campaign donations?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I pulled the records for the donations to Leland Rooks campaign the last three elections. I thought that might give us a few clues.”

  “We need to foc—“ she started then backed up. “Good thinking. Thanks.” Conner’s dark eyebrows lifted farther, when she added. “And thanks for your hard work. I know pulling all of these files by yourself was tough.”

  He grunted, then pushed a hand through his already rumpled hair. “I got Ben to help me,” he said grumpily. “We went through them and found some very interesting things that led us to pull the other files.”

  “Really?” she asked with hope bubbling inside of her.

  “Yeah, and it ain’t pretty. They tried to hide their tracks, but I can’t believe nobody has put all this together as many times as Leland Rooks has been investigated.”

  “Maybe they were just doing cursory checks, instead of a full investigation. You know how those robots work. They get paid the same whether they find anything or not. And to challenge a man as powerful as Leland is taking your job and your life into your hands. Why risk it?”

  “We’re doing it,” Conner said pointedly.

  “I have nothing to lose, and I’m going to keep you out of it as much as possible,” Ronnie replied.

  “Too late. I heard through the grapevine that the network administrator told Seemus that I was making an abnormal amount of copies. I guess the guy was looking for brownie points or something. If he knows what I know, he wouldn’t bother.”

  “Did Seemus corner you about it?” Ronnie asked with worry constricting her chest.

  “He asked, and I told him I was working on bringing in a big fish for the firm,” Conner said with a laugh. “He tried to pry a name out of me, but I told him I didn’t want to spoil the surprise until I reeled him in.”

  Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief, but was still worried. “Well, hopefully he bought it, and won’t check the network to see what you were copying.”

  “I stopped making copies at the office. I rented a copier and made the rest of the copies at my apartment. You owe me.”

  “I hope you used my credit card.”

  “You bet your sweet ass I did,” he said with a laugh. “And I rented the truck on your card too. This is your mess not mine. Even though I’m going to help you with it. By the way…”

  “Yeah?” Ronnie asked anxiously.

  “The feds came by the office yesterday looking for you. Robert told them you were on leave, and the firm had no idea where you were. They know you were out at the ranch and want to talk to you. They found your car and brought back your briefcase,” he said handing it to her.

  Ronnie took it from him, and looked inside. Her pen was still in there, and relief shot through her. Why that damned pen meant so much to her, she didn’t know. “Thanks. Was my car okay?” She hoped it was not trashed. Like the pen, that car meant something to her. Had more than just materialistic value to her.

  “Yeah, she’s fine, which is more than I can say for my own car,” he said with anger lacing his tone. “I rented a damned car on your card too, while mine is in the body shop. They still have your car in impound. I tried to get it out, but they won’t release the car until they find you to talk to you. The only reason they gave me your briefcase was because I told them we needed the notes in there for cases we’re working on.”

  “Well, they’re not going to find me.”

  “They will if we’re not quick figuring out this crap. They were pretty adamant about talking to you. And I have cases pending, Vee. I can only spare a few more days to help you. I’ve already wasted three days.”

  “What about Ben?” she asked hopefully.

  “He can’t help us. He’s up to his eyeballs in that murder case, and the interns he’s working with are green as grass. I was lucky he helped me at all.”

  Ronnie sighed. “Thanks for everything. Tell him I said thank you too.”

  “Damn, that’s four thanks in fifteen minutes. I think that’s a record for you.”

  “Get used to it. I’ve had an epiphany. Being drugged, almost raped and on the run does that to a woman.” So did realizing what being called the Shark Lady for so long had done to her.

  Dave Logan walked into the room followed closely by Trace. He’d heard what sh
e said to Conner, because he said angrily, “That wouldn’t have happened to you, Veronica, if you’d have listened to me and stayed away from that ranch.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Dave,” she said then met his eyes. “Thank you for getting involved to help us.”

  “Wow, the thank yous and sorries are overwhelming me,” Conner said snarkily. “I’m practically verclempt. I think the Shark Lady is becoming a guppy, and I can’t say I like it much.”

  Anger surged up inside of her and she tried to shove it back down, but didn’t quite succeed. “Don’t worry, I still have teeth. If you don’t want to help, leave. And if the best you can do is standing around being an asshole, don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on your way out.”

  “Now, that’s the Vee, I know and love. Welcome back,” Conner said with a wink.

  “Trace and I are going on a road trip,” Dave announced. “Tell Caleb and Jamie to call me when they wake up.”

  Dave turned to leave, but Ronnie stopped him. They were keeping her in the dark again, and she wasn’t having it. “Where are you going?”

  Trace was hurt and didn’t need to be in any more battles until he healed up. Dave looked at Trace, then back at her. “We’re going to meet with his buddy, Seth. He has some information for us,” he said vaguely. We’ll be back in a little while.”

  “I’m cooking biscuits and gravy,” Allison announced with a yawn from where she stood behind Trace. “Ya’ll should wait.”

  “We have to get on the road, Mama,” Trace said dropping an arm over her shoulders. “Save me some though. I haven’t had your biscuits in—“ he said then his eyes shot to Ronnie’s accusingly. “In three years,” he finished.

  Allison patted his belly, and hugged him to her. “You’re getting too skinny,” she said with a laugh. “I need to fatten you up, or you’re going to be one big muscle.”