by Becky McGraw
Seth laughed. “No. Not sure if it was a guard or inmate, but unless he had a three-foot vertical leap, he was murdered.”
“Was he talking?”
“He found out last night that Leland had been questioned, because they connected his name to the ranch. According to the agents who questioned him, Leland said he had no idea what was going on out there, and was appalled at what was going on. He told them that Ray Brown handled all his affairs at the ranch. Made all the decisions. He just paid the bills that were presented to him.”
“And Ray didn’t like being thrown under the bus?” Trace asked.
“They questioned Ray again and told him that. He started singing after they offered him a plea deal,” Seth said with a laugh.
“Leland didn’t like the tune?” Trace guessed.
“That’s what I think, so he had him killed. But they’re not going to go there until they have proof. You know as well as I do they won’t find it.”
“I’m outta here man. Thanks for everything,” Trace said.
“Ronnie hasn’t found anything yet?” Seth asked with a strange note to his voice.
“Not that she’s telling me,” Trace replied. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Ray’s dead, and she’s safe as long as she stays out of Leland’s way. I’m going to tell her that then I’m hitting the road.” Ronnie’s wild goose chase was over. And Trace’s new life was about to begin.
“Where will you go?” Seth asked.
“I have no idea, and you’re better off not knowing.”
“Carrie and the kids are settled in with her dad. Just so you know.”
That was good news. One less thing he had to worry about, before he headed out. “Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate you being my friend, Seth.”
“Take care of yourself, man,” he replied.
“Always.” That is exactly what Trace was going to do right now. He spun on his heel and almost ran over Ronnie who was standing there listening with her arms crossed over her chest.
Her brown eyes glittered angrily as she said, “So you’re backing out on your promise to me? You’re going to run like a coward?”
“Ray’s dead. You’re safe now as long as you get out of Leland’s business. We don’t know that Ray told him you were out at that ranch. Ray has been busy covering his own ass. I doubt he talked to Leland. If he had, Leland wouldn’t have thrown him under the bus. They would have made a plan. And we would have gotten word Leland was looking for you by now.”
“I thought you wanted to take Leland down. I’m very close to doing that, along with everyone else connected to sending you to jail.”
“Just drop it, Red. I want to stay alive and out of prison more than I want to see Leland in jail.”
“And you think you can just disappear and never have to pay the piper for shooting that agent? For running out on that federal investigation?”
Damn, he’d forgotten to ask Seth if he’d heard anything on Carlos Ramos’ condition. Hopefully he was out of the hospital by now.
“I’m not going back to jail.” Trace would kill himself first. But he had every faith it wouldn’t come to that. He was going to run to the far ends of the Earth and nobody would ever hear his name again. Eventually they would forget about him. “I’m a dead man, remember?”
“You’re only dead if someone doesn’t tell someone that you’re not really dead. That you faked your death.”
The impact of her words and their implication set him back on his heels. “Are you threatening me, Red?”
“Damn straight. You either give me the rest of my two weeks, or I head straight to the federal building in Dallas to talk to Susan Whitmore.”
“You’re fucking blackmailing me?” Trace shouted and a small smile kicked up the corner of her mouth. Her eyes weren’t smiling though they were dead serious.
“Call it creative persuasion,” she said smugly.
Trace shoved a hand through his hair. “I should have known not to trust you.” She had sent him to jail once. Why the hell would he think she’d do differently this time? Ronnie Winters was concerned about herself. Evidently fixing her screw up with his case was about more than clearing his name now. Her overinflated ego was at play here. “You are a conniving, black-hearted bit—“
“Thank you. I do what I need to do to win. Remember that,” Ronnie said and turned to walk away.
Rage surged through him and Trace followed her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. He had no idea why he put his hand at her throat, where he could feel her pulse pounding beneath his fingers. He didn’t squeeze, he just held her. Taking a couple of deep breaths through his nose to calm himself, he said, “What I remember is I’m a dead man. Dead men don’t get convicted for killing blackmailing attorneys.”
Her eyes challenged him, but he saw her lower lip tremble when she said, “You’re not a killer.”
“You’re the only one in the world who thinks that,” he replied. “Maybe you’re the one who’s wrong, Red.” He tightened his fingers on her neck and her eyes widened.
“I’m not wrong,” she insisted. Her voice was strangled by his hold. He loosened his grip, then dropped his hand to his side and huffed out a breath.
“I wish you were,” he said.
“Don’t leave, Trace. Let me finish this. If you leave, it will devastate your mother.”
Oh, god. Not that. That was the one thing she could have said that would keep him here. “My mother will be fine.”
“Why do you think she hasn’t slept? She’s working her fingers to the bone with her friend to help you, and so am I.”
“None of you need to do that. I told you I was leaving. That it didn’t matter. They will put me back in jail even if you prove I wasn’t guilty of murdering Sean.”
“And I told you I would fix that too. I can do this, Trace,” she said and took a step toward him to put her hand on his chest. Their eyes met and she said, “But you have to have faith enough in me to stick around.”
“All you’ve done since you’ve been working on those files is keep me in the dark and feed me bullshit. That does not lend itself to trust, or faith,” he said bluntly.
“I didn’t want to tell you what I’d found, because I knew it would devastate you. I wanted to be wrong, but I’m not.”
“I’m a tough man. I think I can handle it.”
“Not this,” she volleyed. “It’s bad.”
“What is it?” he asked. Do you know anyone other than your partner or your friend Seth with the initials S. C.? No, he didn’t. To his knowledge, neither did Leland. Sickness boiled in his stomach. Trace didn’t want to know, but he had to ask, “Is it Sean?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but your partner was taking bribes from Leland and he was up to his neck in that drug operation, as far as I can tell. I need to subpoena his personal financials to verify it. I can’t do that until I get all my ducks in a row and go to the prosecutor.”
Sean was dead and couldn’t defend himself. It would be just as easy for someone to set him up as it had been for them to send Trace to jail. “I don’t believe that.”
“Was he short on money? Any financial trouble?”
“They had a lot of medical bills, because their daughter was born too early. She was in the hospital a long time. They didn’t think she was going to make it. But Sean worked extra duty shifts for money.”
“Don’t you think that would get old? Especially if he was undercover and barely had time with his family as it was?”
“It was rough for him.” But Sean was his best friend. He was not a bad cop either. He loved his job, and he loved his family. He would never jeopardize that for a dollar. Sean Collins was the most ethical man he knew. And he would never have set Trace up for any amount of money. “It wasn’t him.”
Ronnie’s lips twisted, then she said. “What about Seth Copeland? Wasn’t he involved in that operation too?”
“He was, and he wouldn’t have done that either.” He was less sure about Seth, but sti
ll sure. “Seth isn’t that kind of man either. He would never do that. Besides, he wasn’t even there the night Sean died. He was off sick with the flu.”
“Convenient,” Ronnie said suggestively. “What if he didn’t have the flu? Maybe he just couldn’t face what he’d done to two men who called him friend. He couldn’t face watching one of them die that night, because of him.”
“I think you’re wrong,” he said, and even he could hear the lack of conviction behind his words. No, it wasn’t Seth either. “What did you find?”
“There are regular payments to an S.C. from Leland’s campaign funds that Lou Ellen found. They were right behind payments to B. D…like they were connected. I remember Darryl Bates that drug dealer you were trying to take down. I went through all of the records from his drug arrests. They called him Big D. Isn’t that right?”
Trace’s stomach seesawed and he covered it with his hand. “His real name is Darryl Bates, but they called him Big D, yeah,” Trace confirmed.
One night during their investigation, Big D had left the gang’s warehouse hideout in a tuxedo. The other members of the gang laughed and said he thought he was high class now, because he knew a Senator. After he and Sean did a little digging, they found out that Senator was Trace’s father. Trace knew his father was scum, but he didn’t think he was a drug dealer.
Like a fool he had gone to Leland to warn him about Darryl Bates. Leland had blown him off and told him Darryl was just a businessman, a campaign contributor. Shortly after that, Sean was dead and Trace was in custody for murdering his partner. The night he was killed, Sean told him he had something big to show him, but they never got to talk. They were called into Big D’s office and the whole investigation went to hell.
“Well, Big D got a huge payment after he was arrested in that drug bust. Right before his deposition was taken for your trial. Right before your sentencing there was a sizeable payment to Earl Jennings’ campaign fund.”
“Judge Jennings?” he asked incredulously. That could explain why the charges were dropped against Big D and the rest of the thugs who were arrested with Darryl, while he was sent to prison for three years. They had all testified against Trace, said he was the one who had ratted out his partner to them, and helped Big D run the drug ring. Judge Jennings approved their plea deals for that testimony.
“Yes. And another to our firm for contract negotiations according to the time and billing records Conner pulled at the office. The entire fee was paid out to Seemus Nichols. I sure didn’t see a penny of it.”
“You got paid, didn’t you?”
“I was asked to represent you pro bono, and I did. I didn’t get a nickel from the firm for my time on your case.”
“You’re fucking kidding me!” Trace had spent his three years in prison building up his case against Ronnie Winters. He’d imagined her sitting back counting the money Leland had given her, or fucking him, while they laughed at him.
She shook her head. “I’m not kidding. I was trying to get partner, so what better way to do that than representing the son of one of our big clients who needed my help? I was told appreciation for my help would be reflected in my bonus at the end of the year,” she said with a laugh. “That never happened. It was the same as it had been the year before.”
“But you were given your partnership.”
“Junior partner,” she clarified. “I was hoping to skip up the food chain, but they only let me up one rung. I’d have gotten that anyway in a year or so.”
Trace was so stunned, he could barely ask, “What else did you find?”
“Payments from Leland’s personal account to certain prison accounts that coincided with your time in isolation.”
“He fucking paid those convicts to try and kill me!?!” Trace shouted incredulously.
“Oh, he did a lot more than that. This is just scratching the surface of what we found,” Ronnie said with a snort.
“What else?” Trace wanted to know all of it.
“Are you staying?” she asked with a lifted brow. “I’m not wasting my breath telling you more, if you plan to run.”
Hell yeah, he was staying, but he knew telling her that might make her clam up again. No way was he leaving now. Now that he knew the extent of his father’s involvement, the extent of his treachery, he was not going to rest until he saw him pay for it. Even if that meant going back to prison. “Tell me all of it and I’ll decide.”
“A week before each payment to them there were large chunks of money withdrawn in cash. Your mother had no idea where the money went. I suspect it was withdrawn for drug buys. Two weeks after the withdrawals were made, there were larger deposits.”
“Maybe Sean was working extra duty on Leland’s protection detail and just didn’t tell me, because he knew how I felt about my father.”
“We need Leland’s calendars and notes and Sean’s bank records to verify this one way or another. I think those would be the key to breaking this wide open.”
“I can get Set—um, someone, to get the bank records from Carrie, Sean’s wife. Leland keeps his calendars and logs at home in his office.”
“I know. Your mother told me that,” Ronnie said.
“How the hell do you think we’re going to get our hands on them then?” Leland had a security detail and cameras everywhere at his compound. The mansion was a veritable fortress. Trace ought to know, he’d grown up there. Had been a prisoner there for eighteen years of his life. His mother had been longer. There wasn’t a damned thing they did in that house that Leland didn’t know about.
She hesitated a moment, then swallowed, before she said, “We’re going to your father’s campaign party Saturday night. Well you’re not. You’re dead. Lou Ellen, your mother and I are going.”
“Like hell you are!” Trace shouted and Ronnie flinched and took a step back.
“It’s the only way we can end this, Trace. We need those books. Your mother is going to sneak into his office, while Lou Ellen and I distract him. He will probably be glad to see her, because she has planned his parties for years. This is the first one he’s had to do on his own. She’s going to call and offer to help him, and maybe hint at the possibility of a reconciliation.”
“I’m not letting ya’ll do that. It’s dangerous. He has security people on staff, and if they catch you, there’s no telling what will happen.”
“They won’t catch us,” Ronnie replied confidently. “I’m going to ask Dave to be my date for the night…just in case. And maybe a couple of his guys can get in with the catering crew if Allison recommends them.”
“Leland might know about the ranch incident, Ronnie. He might know that Conner pulled those files for you. If he does, you’ll be serving yourself up on a platter to him.”
“I’m with you. If he knew, he would have acted by now, so I’ll take that chance. I need to do this.”
Trace saw the determination in her eyes, heard it in her voice. He was not going to be able to talk her out of doing this. He grabbed her shoulders. “Why do you need to do it? That’s my question.”
Ronnie dragged her eyes away and stared off into the woods. “Because I owe it to you and myself to fix things. And I owe the partners in my firm a lesson. You owe Leland a lesson.”
“You don’t owe me a damned thing. From what you’ve told me. I was wrong. None of this was your fault.”
Trace realized that now. He had given her forgiveness when there was nothing to forgive. Ronnie Winters had been an uninformed pawn, not a player, in what happened to him. She was as innocent as he was.
She laughed. “I’ve tried to tell you that, and I’m finally glad you believe me. But I am going to finish what I started here. Those men deserve to be served justice. After we get those books, we’ll have enough proof to do that. I’ll take that to the feds, and tell them my story about being held hostage at that ranch. You’ll be a free man then. And my conscience will be satisfied.”
It was Trace’s turn to laugh. “You know, I have a hard time believi
ng that the Shark Lady actually has one of those. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks that way.”
“No, people have no idea that I really do have a heart, because it suits my purpose that they don’t know. I do what I do because I fight for what I believe in. People I believe in,” she said with a defensive undertone to her voice. She met his eyes. “No matter what you or anyone else thinks, I care about more than how much money I make defending those people.”
Trace’s heart jerked in his chest. Ronnie Winters believed in him, she cared about him. And he cared about her too, that’s why he said, “I’m going with you. I’m going to stand guard outside the house in case something happens. I can’t sit here not knowing.”
Three women he cared about would be inside that house, risking their lives for him. On a fool’s mission to clear his name, and in the process take down a man who needed to be taken down a long time ago. He wanted to make sure they were safe.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Saturday afternoon, Trace sat on the bed in Ronnie’s room while she wiggled into the cocktail dress that she’d borrowed from Lou Ellen. They had dropped his mother off at the airport yesterday, and she’d flown to Dallas. Like she expected, Leland jumped on her offer of help even though he was shocked she had made it. Trace was worried as shit about her being there alone until they got to Dallas later tonight.
Trace felt useless in their grand plan. He was driving the van, staking out the mansion outside the gates, but he knew if anything went down inside he was not going to be able to help them. That worried the shit out of him too. Thank goodness Dave was going to be inside with them. He had confidence that man would protect them, but he still worried. His stomach was a boiling cauldron of worry, his nerves tied in knots.
“That dress is pretty tight. You think you’re going to be able to conceal that can of mace under there?” he asked as his eyes drank in all the smooth creamy skin the short black dress left bare. The mace was the best he could come up with as far as self-protection for her went. Ronnie couldn’t shoot, and he didn’t have enough time to teach her. He found the mace in the gun cabinet. He had no idea why the Lucas family would have it at the lodge, but he was thankful he found it. It gave him a small measure of comfort.