by Rita Herron
She stood, her resolve renewed. She’d wear a wire and do anything she had to do in order to protect Kim from being slandered now.
*~*~*~*
“You think she’s on the level?” Georgia asked. “She’s really going to cooperate and turn her fiancé in?”
Cade raked a hand through his hair. “Yes.”
“So she got scared enough to agree to help you trap Pendergrass?”
“Something like that. I did offer to get the charges dropped against her.” Cade scanned the parking lot in case the shooter had decided to stake out Marci’s place. A gray car on the far right side caught his eye and he studied it.
“Ahh, I knew she had a motive.”
“That’s not it,” he said, remembering her reaction to her sister’s problems. “She didn’t help Pendergrass con those people. She was duped just like they were.”
“You’re the one being duped by her,” Georgia muttered.
“That’s not fair,” Cade snapped. “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Admit it, Cade, you want in her pants,” Georgia said snidely.
“Drop the attitude, Georgia,” Cade said. “Just because she’s good looking doesn’t make her evil.”
In fact, he was starting to think Marci was one of the sweetest, kindest women he’d ever met. She obviously loved her sister and would do anything to protect her reputation, even to the point of endangering herself.
She simply had a trusting innocence about her that left her vulnerable to being taken advantage of by others. One he found appealing.
Especially since he’d lost his innocence a long damn time ago. And trusting wasn’t in his vocabulary.
“Maybe we should trade places, Cade. I could babysit her and let you interview the other vics.”
“No,” Cade said. “You’re not objective. You’ll only alienate her.”
“I’m not objective?” Georgia said, sounding miffed.
“No,” Cade said. “Besides, I’ve built a relationship with her.”
“I can see that.”
Cade grappled for control. “Listen to me, Georgia. I’ve been tracking Pendergrass far too long to let anything prevent me from nailing him. Especially Marci Turner.”
He suddenly sensed something behind him, then turned and saw Marci’s face pale in the moonlight.
Shit. She’d heard every word he’d said.
“Just bring over the wire, and we’ll make a plan.” He snapped the phone shut, then sighed. “Listen, Marci, I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
Marci lifted her chin. “It’s no problem, Detective. Let’s just get it over with.”
Cade reached for her to explain, but she disappeared inside, cutting him off.
She was right.
He had to finish the job. He couldn’t push her for more.
After all, she might still be in love with the man he was about to arrest.
*~*~*~*
Marci forced her emotions at bay. She was going to survive tonight, then Cade would be out of her life, and she could fall apart.
Maybe Cade could find the money Paul had stolen and give it back to the people he’d conned.
She busied herself cleaning her bedroom and bath. Then she spent a half hour trying to decide what kind of shirt she should wear to hide a wire. The sheer navy silk blouse was one of Paul’s favorites, but you could see through it. The white tank accentuated her figure, but was so tight he’d see the ripple of the wire. Maybe the black v-neck with the plunging neckline…
She tried it and checked the mirror. Yep, it flattered her figure enough to distract him, but was loose and long enough over her leggings to work.
Who knew dressing for undercover work was such a chore?
The clock seemed to tick away the hours in slow motion, but finally Cade’s partner arrived. She had no idea why the cop hated her so much, but she latched onto what dignity she had left and faced her, determined not to allow her bad attitude to daunt her.
She’d born the brunt of mean girls before and survived. She would now.
“Thanks for coming, Georgia,” Cade said.
“Are you ready to do this?” Detective Strait asked Marci.
She nodded. “I’m supposed to meet him at midnight.”
“I have two undercover officers in place already,” Detective Strait said. “Plus Cade and I will also be there.” She gestured toward Marci’s shirt. “You’ll have to take that off for me to wire you.”
Marci clenched her teeth, then slipped it over her head.
Cade’s eyes darkened for a moment as his gaze took in her black lacy bra, then he turned and strode to the window and looked out, his expression steely.
But she couldn’t help but remember his fingers tearing at the buttons on her other blouse, his hands and lips raking over her with desire.
“You’re shivering,” Detective Strait said as she attached the small microphone to her bra. “Nervous?”
Marci nodded. No way she’d admit that she was thinking about Cade Muller’s lips and hands when she was supposed to be focusing on the plan.
The detective wound the wire around her belly and taped it in place. Marci glanced down at the woman’s stern concentration and wondered what kind of bra she wore. Probably one made of steel so no man could take it off.
The detective checked to make sure the microphone was secure. “There, that should stay in place.”
Marci nodded, then pulled her shirt over her head, anxious to get the night over with. “It’s eleven-thirty. I should go now.”
Cade turned back to her, his dark eyes latching onto her and sending a quiver through her belly. The man was infuriating. He didn’t have to say anything or even touch her, and her body heated up.
Maybe she should talk to her doctor when this was over. She might have some kind of hormone malfunction…
Surely there was some kind of pill that could prevent her from aching for a man.
“You won’t see us but we’ll be there,” Detective Strait said.
Cade caught her arm as she grabbed her keys and the duffel bag. “I will be there, Marci, but be careful.”
“Don’t say anything to tip him that we’re watching,” Detective Strait warned. “Or that deal is off.”
Marci glared at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”
She turned to Cade. “Just remember our bargain, I want Kim’s investors to know that she’s on the up and up.”
“I promise,” he said.
Marci clenched the duffel bag and the fake suitcase she’d packed to make Paul believe she was running away with him, then headed down the stairs to her car.
She just hoped that everything went as planned.
Then she’d be free of Paul and the cops and could start her life over again.
This time – without a man.
*~*~*~*
He punched in his boss’s number. “It’s going down tonight.”
“Marci’s helping the cops?”
“It looks that way. Detective Strait just wired her, and she’s walking to her car.”
“Follow them,” he said. “And remember I want Pendergrass, no matter how you have to take him. But do not hurt Marci.”
He shrugged. He’d do whatever he was paid to do. But he was beginning to wonder why his boss wanted the Turner woman alive.
And just what he planned to do with her.
Because he knew his boss, and he definitely had plans.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cade had wanted to ride with Marci to the drop spot, but Georgia insisted that he let her go alone in case Pendergrass had someone watching her. After all, he had had help leaving the country club. For all they knew, he had eyes on her.
Especially since the meet-up at the Varsity had gone bad.
“Don’t lose her,” he told Georgia as she cut through the downtown traffic onto the interstate.
“Calm down,” Georgia said. “We’ve got this covered.”
He shi
fted in the passenger seat, frustrated that he wasn’t driving. At least then he’d have some control.
“We need a lead on the shooter,” he said as he inched to the edge of the seat to keep Marci’s VW bug in sight. For heaven’s sake, he understood why people nicknamed it a bug. It was so tiny it could get lost in a crowd and could be squashed in seconds.
Perspiration beaded on his neck. He did not want anything bad to happen to Marci.
“We’re still digging up names of people he scammed,” Georgia said. “It’s been a nightmare. Half of the people were too embarrassed at being conned to even come forward.”
And the other half had protested in front of the police station half the night.
Cade understood both sides. His own nana had been embarrassed, blaming herself, saying it wouldn’t have happened if she’d been younger and more alert.
She was the most alert eighty-something he knew. And he had told her that.
Dammit. The money Pendergrass had stolen was criminal, but the mental anguish he’d inflicted on those elderly citizens, the way he’d preyed on the insecurities accompanying their golden years, infuriated him.
His nana said that Pendergrass had made her feel special, that he’d raved about how astute she was for her age, and that was one reason he wanted to help her achieve her dreams.
A bunch of hogwash, but it had worked. Because nobody wanted to feel like they were old. Everyone, no matter what age, wanted to feel valuable and cared for and appreciated.
Pendergrass had understood that, too.
And used it to his advantage.
Pendergrass had done the same thing to dozens of women for years. Made them feel special, cherished, like he was devoted to making their dreams come true.
And sweet, innocent, kind-hearted Marci had fallen for his charm.
He fisted his hands as they turned off the interstate and headed toward the Chattahoochee.
The bastard was pure pond scum.
And he would see that he paid.
*~*~*~*
Marci’s stomach was rolling like a teenager after her first drunk. She had never been so nervous in her life.
Well, maybe on her first prom date.
And that had been a disaster because Jimmy Churozo’s ex-girlfriend had, in a jealous rage, sprayed peanut oil on Jimmy’s condom packet, and when they’d tried to have sex his penis had swelled up like a giant cucumber and he’d nearly gone into anaphylactic shock.
Thank God he’d had an EpiPen with him so she’d stabbed him in the thigh and saved his life, but the moment had been recorded for all the senior class to enjoy via Jimmy’s ex’s video camera.
Her mother had nearly disowned her that night. And poor Kim…she’d barely gone out of the house for a month, and when she had, she’d worn a disguise.
But that incident hadn’t been her fault. Not really.
But this was her fault. Because she had been stupid enough to believe that Paul was the kind, honest, sincere gentleman he purported to be.
Fool.
She was never going to trust another man.
She cut across the side street off Roswell Road down toward the river, to the little spot she’d shown Paul on their third date. They’d downed a bottle of wine while listening to the current ripple by.
Then they’d shared some hot kisses that had eventually led to a sexy romp on the grass. Although truth be told, he had been a little fast on the start that night.
And a few times later.
But she’d chalked that up to him being so excited to be with her.
Now she wondered if he didn’t have some …problem in that department.
Of course, now she realized the reason -- he hadn’t been that in to her. Shoot, he might have been faking the whole time.
While she’d felt bad for him and glossed over his ineptness, had rubbed and stroked his dick until her hand had cramped to get him hard again, he’d been scheming to use her to rob people blind.
And instead of learning her g-spot, which she’d practically had to mark with a Sharpee, the sneaky cheating liar had been looking way north at all the rich senior women he could persuade to open their purses for him.
Anger mixed with disappointment, and a sliver of fear as she left the main road and veered onto the turnoff for the deserted little section that she’d once considered a romantic haven.
Now it looked creepy, overgrown with trees, weeds and kudzu, like a perfect place to dump a dead body so it wouldn’t ever be found.
A terrifying thought occurred to her.
What if Paul had hired that shooter? Maybe he’d planned to have her offed after she gave him the cash…
Shivering, she parked in the turnoff, then grabbed the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder, along with her overnight bag.
She had to make this look real.
Dark clouds rumbled above, reminding her of the sudden storms that cropped up in the south, and she was grateful she’d worn tennis shoes instead of her stilettos. As much as she loved her heels, sometimes a girl had to be practical, had to sacrifice style to save her hide.
Especially these days when women were so frustrated with the quality of the male gene pool that they’d put up with a man’s shortcomings because pickins’ were so slim.
Where had all the good men gone?
Leaves and twigs crackled beneath her shoes as she picked her way through the brush toward the ancient vine she and the other teens had used as a rope. Crickets chirped, mingling with the buzz of insects and the sound of the river gurgling over the jagged rocks.
Night had long set in, the deserted area a reminder that it was midnight and most sane people were at home in bed asleep or tucked in with their lovers, which was where she desperately wanted to be.
Cade’s handsome dark face flashed in her mind and she released a shaky breath.
Nope. No crawling into bed with the man who’d arrested her.
Even if he was a sex goddess in disguise.
Cade – Detective Muller – wanted one thing from her and one thing only. For her to lure Paul into a trap.
The memory of that sensational erotic kiss taunted her. Well, he was a man, and maybe he wanted one more thing.
But he wasn’t going to get it, dammit!
Heck, he’d probably had cop training in the art of seduction to earn his badge.
Still, she’d bet her mama’s second wedding ring that if she got naked with a man again that he would leave her satisfied, not hunting for Mr. V to finish the job when he literally petered out.
*~*~*~*
“Do you have her in your sights?” Cade whispered into the mike.
“Roger,” Officer Cowen said. “I have the north side of the entrance covered.”
“I have the south,” Officer Hupert murmured.
And Georgia was to the east of him near the park.
Cade paced the bushes, uneasy. Something about this didn’t feel right.
It smelled like a set up. Only that was impossible. The only people who knew about it were Marci, Georgia, his chief, and the two officers on duty.
And he’d been with Mari every moment since they’d made the plan. She couldn’t have alerted Pendergrass that it was a trap.
Could she?
He dug his heels in. He didn’t want to distrust her, but …
“Someone’s coming,” Officer Cowen said quietly.
Cade paused near the clearing where Marci had planted herself. She’d said just enough when they’d talked about the meet place for him to get the gist. She and Pendergrass had enjoyed a romantic tryst here.
The thought of that jerk touching her made him want to hit something.
“A dark blue mustang is approaching on this end,” the officer murmured.
Cade tensed. He’d expect Pendergrass to show up in a nondescript car.
“Oh, shit,” Cowen said. “It’s some young couple.”
“Get rid of them,” Georgia ordered.
“Roger that,” Cowen said.
/> Cade rubbed his hand over the butt of his gun. He hated waiting, wondering if the man would show. If Marci might change her mind and run off with him…
If he might get hurt...
He jerked his head to the side, then spotted the silhouette of a man weaving through the trees. Who the hell?
“I hear something,” Georgia whispered.
He paused, the low sound of a motor rumbling in the distance. He glanced through the trees at the river scanning it and noticed a boat coasting down stream.
A boat without its lights on.
“I thought I saw someone in the woods,” Cade said into his mike. “And downstream, a boat is coming this way. No lights on.”
“Go after the figure in the woods,” Georgia said. “I’ll cover the boat.”
Cade hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Marci at the hands of anyone else. But he had to do his job.
“Copy that.” Forcing himself to move quietly, he headed in the direction of the figure. Maybe it was the shooter, and he could end this mystery now.
More trees rustled ahead, then the sound of an animal’s growl. A dog? Something else? Were there coyotes by the river?
Removing his gun from his jacket pocket, he braced himself and inched closer.
*~*~*~*
Marci twitched. It felt like a million eyes were watching her. Wild animals in the woods? The cops Cade had brought in?
Paul?
And maybe the shooter who wanted them dead…
She hugged the duffel bag to her, unable to resist checking to see how much cash was inside. Stacks of hundred dollar bills were banded together in thick piles. Maybe twenty-five of them.
The sound of a boat puttering jerked her attention up, and she bit her lip. She should have known that Paul would choose a boat. They had taken one down the river on their fifth date.
Another disaster in the lovemaking department, but she’d tried to be a patient girl. I mean, she hadn’t expected perfection every time…
Again, it struck her that Cade wouldn’t have any problems performing.
Stop thinking about Cade. He arrested you!
And he’d do it again if she didn’t cooperate and do her part in trapping Paul.