Under the Gun

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Under the Gun Page 6

by HelenKay Dimon


  “It’s not easy to walk back in there after all that’s happened. After my last trip here.”

  Ah, there it was. This was about the divorce and memories from the last time she walked through the place.

  Luke thought about kicking his own ass over his insensitivity. “I’m not trying to torture you. I really do need someone with inside knowledge of this place. That’s you.”

  She waved her hand in front of her. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, it does. But nothing’s going to happen to you in there. I won’t let it.”

  CLAIRE BELIEVED HIM. And when Luke held out his hand, she didn’t balk. She grabbed on and held tight. Walking through the rooms, seeing the bloodstain, knowing now that it was all fake, started a headache pounding in her temples.

  But if this was what it took to get Luke to believe her story, then she’d do it. “Let’s go.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  They walked fast and low across the open outside area, around the pool and barbecue pit. When they hit the back door, Luke repeated his covert operative skills. Two seconds later, she stepped into the family room of what was never really her house.

  “You entered where that night?” he asked.

  She dropped his hand and crossed the room, walking down the hall until they hit the marble two-story foyer.

  Luke stared up at the winding staircase. “Damn, that’s impressive.”

  It had all wowed her once. The intricate carvings and gentle slope of the curves. Now all she saw was another reminder of Phil’s over-the-top spending on things that didn’t matter.

  She stood with her back against the double doors leading to the front yard. “I parked in the driveway and came in right here.”

  “And then you went up the stairs without poking around down here.”

  “Because I heard noises up there. Yes.”

  Luke jogged up a few steps and then turned around to face her. “I know this stinks, but I need you to come up with me.”

  “Why?”

  He dropped his gun to his side.

  She wasn’t even sure when he drew it.

  “First,” he said, “I’m betting there’s more than one bedroom up there, so I might need some guidance to pick the right one.” When she started to talk, he raised his hand to cut her off. “And second, I need to see you at the scene.”

  “That sounds ghoulish.”

  “The theory is that you dragged a man almost twice your size down these stairs and out of this house—all without getting more than a few drops of blood on the marble, I might add—and then hid him in a place where the police and all their dogs and equipment couldn’t find him.”

  She was afraid to hope, but some pressure was lifted from her chest. “Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

  “Looking at the size of this house, I’m thinking that it’s impossible, but I want to be sure.”

  She closed her eyes and let a wave of relief crash over her. She didn’t have anyone. All her supposed friends had abandoned her, choosing to chase the money and side with Phil. Steve screamed at her, nearly inconsolable with grief. And her family was long gone. That left…no one to root for her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  “Believing.”

  He stared at her for an extra beat before nodding his head. “Upstairs.”

  THE NEXT HOUR moved in slow motion. The bloodstain still marked the carpet. Luke made her wait in the hallway while he walked around the former master suite. He said something about her leaving additional genetic material behind, which probably explained why gloves appeared out of his pocket.

  Luke finally looked up. “We’re done.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Unless you threw Phil out the window, and I’m thinking there would be a sign of that, I can’t see how the timeline can work. The prosecutor must be hoping he has enough other evidence to overcome that flaw, or that science will provide an answer.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  He stripped off the gloves and shoved them in his back pocket. “Yeah, it looks that way. The press has pointed out the timeline problem. The prosecutor says there’s an explanation but isn’t sharing. I’m guessing the real answer is that they haven’t come up with a reasonable story just yet.”

  She thought about throwing herself into his arms, but his watch started beeping. “What’s that?”

  “The alarm on my car.” Luke joined her in the hallway and showed her his arm. “Recognize this guy?”

  “You have a camera in your car?”

  “Claire.” Luke snapped his fingers. “Focus.”

  She shook her head to clear out everything and concentrate. A man with dark hair and dark clothes slipped around the side of the car. She couldn’t make out his face, couldn’t see what he was doing, but now it looked as if he was on his knees under the automobile.

  “He’s probably planting a tracking device.” Luke swore to let her know what he thought about the idea.

  “Who is it?”

  “Someone who knows you’re with me.”

  “Phil would hate that.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

  Luke scoffed. “Why? He won you.”

  No, he didn’t. Claire knew that as well as Phil did. “I’m not a prize to be fought over.”

  “Is that the point you’re going with here? That I said something offensive? Seems to me my assessment was pretty accurate despite my choice of words.”

  “No.” She exhaled, knowing this was the wrong thing to say, but she was going to do it, anyway. “Phil would hate to see me with you because he thought I never got over you.”

  Luke’s eyebrows rose. “Paranoid guy.”

  “And smart, too.”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “Exactly what you think.”

  “Claire—”

  She jumped ahead before he could dissect her words and drag them into a conversation neither of them wanted. “So what does it mean that someone else is sneaking around the house?”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. It took another second for him to speak. “We need another way out of here. They’re watching the house.”

  “You think someone followed us here.” The idea made the contents in her stomach roll. It seemed that Phil knew every move she made. The blow to her privacy left her feeling raw.

  “I know they did.” Luke pointed at the watch. The mystery man disappeared off screen as he headed toward the mansion. “I’m betting he has a key and he’ll know which room to search first.”

  “There’s a back staircase we can use.”

  Luke started shaking his head before she finished the suggestion. “No good. He could have a partner waiting there. We need something less obvious.”

  “I can’t fly, so the windows are out.”

  “I was hoping a big place like this might have a few secret entrances, that sort of thing.”

  “If it does, Phil never shared them with me.” She tensed when the security system chirped. “He’s in.”

  “Where’s the balcony?”

  Her mind refused to function. “What?”

  “The one I could see from the backyard. Where is it?”

  The blueprints snapped into place in her mind. She walked as fast and as quietly as possible into the sitting room to the left of the bedroom. The balcony doors were against the back wall.

  Luke didn’t waste any time explaining his plan. He turned the lock. The sound of the soft click bounced off the walls. Claire couldn’t remember the last time she heard a noise so loud.

  As if reading her mind, Luke shook his head. “Imagination.”

  “Right.”

  He pushed his gun into her hand. “Know how to use this?”

  The cold metal burned her fingers. “You need it.”

  “I have another. Here.” He motioned for her to step out onto the balcony. “Anyone bu
t me comes out here, you scream and shoot. Got it?”

  Her pulse danced a crazy beat. “Luke, stay with me.”

  “Right now we have surprise on our side.”

  Before she could argue, he shut the door, leaving her alone outside. He stepped into the connecting closet.

  And then they waited.

  She tried to wait over to the side, just in case the sun cast a shadow in the glass. From her position she could watch the closet. Luke didn’t peek out. Nothing moved. She couldn’t hear anything but the knocking of her own heart.

  Minutes ticked by with a dedicated slowness that made her itch to burst through the doors and run down the stairs to freedom. Every second of standing out there, exposed and hanging on to the railing, passed like a week. Just when she decided to give up and go inside to grab Luke, a floorboard creaked just on the other side of the wall from where she stood.

  Her body switched into shut-down mode. Air didn’t flow. Her muscles froze. She stood as still as possible, trying not to breathe.

  The outline of a male appeared in the window and close enough for her to see the sleeve of his coat. She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from screaming in surprise. The gun in her hand started to shake. When her vision started to blur, she blinked to clear it again.

  Just as the man turned toward her hiding place, a shout of fury cut through the room. Luke flew out of the closet and launched his body at the other man. Guns clattered to the floor. One spun across the hardwood and landed under the bed as the men fell to the floor. Legs and arms were everywhere, fighting and punching. The men rolled, stopping only when they slammed into the chest of drawers. Then they started the free-for-all again.

  Claire stepped inside. “Luke!” She aimed her gun but couldn’t get off a decent shot, not with her lack of skill. One wrong move and she could fire right into the back of Luke’s head.

  Luke yelled in pain when the other man pressed his thumb right into the gunshot wound. It was as if the guy knew where to push and how to inflict the most damage. Luke landed a punch to the man’s throat and managed to shift away from the grinding grip. Luke pulled back, rising to his knees, his injured arm hanging from his side like it was no longer attached. Blood dripped from under his sweater and down the back of his hand.

  Now that the man knew Luke’s weakness, he went for it again. Through grunts and swearing, Luke lifted his knee and popped the man in the groin. The guy dropped on his side. As he writhed on the floor, Luke scrambled on his stomach a few feet away. He snatched his gun from under the edge of the bed just as the other man landed a punch to the back of Luke’s knee.

  Eyes bulging, Luke kicked out, catching the man across the jaw. The guy’s head snapped back as his eyes rolled and his head hit the floor. The shouting gave way to dead silence. With his arms thrown out to the side and mouth hanging open, the guy didn’t move.

  Claire stood over him with the gun just to be sure. “Is he dead?”

  Luke flopped back against the bed. He covered his injury with his hand as he breathed in heavy pants. “It amazes me how you say that as if it doesn’t matter.”

  “He was trying to kill you.” As far as she was concerned that meant the guy deserved whatever he got, even if it was an early grave.

  “No kidding.”

  “Do we call the police?”

  “Only if you want to be arrested.” Luke struggled to his feet.

  She rushed over to help him, sliding her shoulder under his armpit for balance. “That was impressive.”

  “He knew about the gunshot wound. Knew right where to take me. That means someone else was following the guy in the alley. We have a group working together, which is not good.” After a few steps Luke stopped.

  “We’ll worry about that later.”

  “I’m pretty ticked off about it right now.”

  “You okay?”

  “Will be.” He shook off her assistance. After a few more deep breaths he stood up straight, wincing and grumbling with every move.

  Claire refused to be offended. It was clear this show of machismo was more about proving to himself that he was fine than anything else. A guy like Luke needed to know he was in charge, so she let him have that moment.

  She looked around for a rope or something to use as a tie in case the guy on the floor woke up swinging. Nothing. Someone had cleaned the place out except for the furniture on the floor and paintings on the wall. No knickknacks. No clothing, not even hers. Steve sure did erase her presence in a hurry.

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” Luke clicked a button on his watch.

  “We’re not going to bring him in? Question him?”

  “No way to do that since I don’t know what he did to my car and I can’t exactly carry him to the bus stop.”

  She stared down at the guy. Other than a small lift of his chest, he didn’t even twitch. “But what if he talks?”

  “He won’t. He’s not supposed to be here, either, remember?” Luke crouched down and searched through the man’s pockets. He held up a key. “This is all he has on him.”

  “Travels light.”

  She watched as Luke scooped up the man’s gun with two fingers and dropped it on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the pillow came out of its case and the gun went in.

  “I’ll call it in, have my guys try to round him up and tow my car just to be safe,” Luke said. “Tell them to check the security tapes and erase them while they’re at it so no one sees you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We need to figure out why these guys keep coming, and if Phil is sending them, just where he’s hiding.”

  “Think this one will say anything more than the guy who broke into your office did?”

  “They’ll crack eventually. Once they realize the help and money aren’t coming, they’ll turn. They just need time.”

  She wanted to ask if the office attacker had been arrested, but a tiny voice in her brain told her not to. Luke and his buddies didn’t work through regular channels, which meant the men they captured weren’t going to be sitting in jail cells waiting to meet with their court-appointed attorneys.

  “And, Claire?”

  Something about the lightness in Luke’s voice had her glancing up at him. “Yeah?”

  “I still don’t work for the FBI.”

  Chapter Seven

  “We’ve got trouble.” Holden delivered his observation while pacing back and forth in front of the small refrigerator in the safe house.

  “You mean more trouble.” Luke sat propped up on the couch with an ice pack plastered to his wound. The thing thumped like a son of a bitch thanks to the unwanted wrestling at the mansion. The bleeding had finally tapered off, but not until Adam came over and did more stitching.

  Holden grabbed a beer and then plunked on the couch by Luke’s feet. “The forensics in Phil’s case point to Claire.”

  “Not possible.”

  “You sure that’s your head talking and not some other part of you?”

  “I saw the house, the supposed murder scene. No way could she have managed what the prosecution says she did. I’m telling you that man walked out of there very much alive.”

  Holden stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “You think she’s being set up.”

  “There’s no other story that makes sense.”

  Holden nodded. “I agree.”

  “Thank heaven for smart men.” Claire walked into the room wearing the slim T-shirt and pajama pants Holden had delivered. She had scrubbed her face clean and pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

  She managed to look both fresh and strong. The combination proved irresistible to Luke. Looking at her now, he wondered how he ever let her walk out on him. Why he didn’t tamp down his ego and rush after her when she started talking about needing more than he could give.

  “We figure things out eventually,” Holden said.

  “Not bad for art dealers.”

  “Antiques.” Holden and Luke corrected her at the same time.<
br />
  “The gadgets I saw today, those kicking and slicing moves?” She imitated the fighting as she spoke. “That ain’t like any museum curator I’ve ever seen.”

  Luke knew she deserved an explanation. After everything they’d been through over the past day, she was entitled. “We find people for a living.”

  “Luke.” Holden said his friend’s name like a warning.

  “She’s watched me track down attackers and fight. She’s not stupid.” Luke had fought telling her everything for so long that he was surprised at how right it felt to just spill it. “We’re not FBI. We’re much better.”

  “But you’re with the government.”

  “Sort of.”

  “I’m not sure how one is ‘sort of’ a government agent.”

  “When one works undercover at a place with few rules.”

  A huge smile burst across her lips. It was the kind of pure joy that could feed him forever.

  “Now was that so hard to tell me?” she asked in a saucy tone.

  “Yes,” Holden mumbled. “And it’s top secret, so not a word to anyone. You think the boneheads chasing you now are a problem? Imagine having me on your tail if you open your mouth.”

  She smiled over the threats. “I got it.”

  Holden plowed on. “You talk and we’ll deny. We have an entire backstory that will refute anything you have to say. That is, if anyone can find you.”

  “That’s enough.” Luke figured his friend had made the point. Claire didn’t look scared. If anything she looked excited at having been let in on the big secret.

  Her reaction made him wish he could have told her back then. But he’d been new and had understood that the rules didn’t bend. He didn’t want to blow his assignment or get kicked out during the probationary period. Mostly, he’d thought she should accept his word and leave the rest. Now he wasn’t so sure things were ever that absolute when it came to trust.

  She sat on the floor in front of them and crossed her legs in the way only women can do. “Your secret is safe.”

  “You.” Holden pointed at Luke. “Shut up before I use some of Adam’s thread and sew your mouth closed.”

 

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