Ruthless

by HelenKay Dimon

  Working against Pax didn’t appeal to her.

  Neither did being left behind.

  She sighed at Pax, letting him know she didn’t appreciate the direction of the conversation. “You’re not going to back down, are you?”

  “If it helps, he’s not in charge here,” Connor said.

  But she knew Pax. If he wanted this to happen, it would happen. That meant she had to tamp down the ball of anxiety boiling in her stomach and get on the right side of this. The right side in Pax’s view, that is.

  “I agree with Joel.” It actually hurt a little to say the words.

  “You do?” Joel and Connor asked at the same time.

  Pax’s question came in slower. It carried a hint of disbelief and wariness in his eyes. “Really?”

  She bit back the fear and dread. Pressed all those knee-buckling doubts out of her head and dived in. “You guys do this work all the time and hang out with each other. You don’t know how intimidating you are. Having Pax there, issuing a direct threat to Bryce Kingston—”

  He cleared his throat. “And I do intend to do that.”

  “—will make an impression.”

  The words rang out and then silence. Joel smiled but Pax scowled at her. Connor was the mystery. He sat with an elbow balanced on the chair’s armrest and stared her down. After a few seconds, he wiped his fingers around the corners of his mouth and stared at the table.

  Finally he looked up, pinning her with his blue-eyed gaze. “Fine.”

  Pax shifted his weight and had them all looking in his direction. “Good, but she stays here.”

  “No.” That was it. Connor dropped the verbal bomb and stopped talking.

  Confusion and something that looked suspiciously like guilt shone in Pax’s eyes. “Connor, wait a second.”

  But Connor was already off and running to the next thing. She could almost see him making the calculations in his head. When the full force of his stare bore into her, she had to sit back in her chair. The leather squeaked under her butt.

  “You both come along and we go for the big hit. We let Bryce know he has a breach and we’re aware of it.” Connor’s gaze flicked to Pax for a second. “Seeing the two of you should throw him off, or at least convince him to make a play. Then we’ve got him.”

  She wasn’t completely sure she’d won the argument. If she had her way she’d have her hand in Pax’s as they waltzed out the front door and back to bed. Her motivation was not a mystery. Connor’s was not as clear. “You’re doing it because I said so?”

  Connor shrugged. “We’re trying it because you made a good argument, and so did Joel. We go in, spook Bryce and then follow.”

  “We need to talk about the specifics and Kelsey’s role, which should be nothing.” Pax’s growl didn’t leave any question about his thoughts on the new operation. He planned to talk Connor out of this plan.

  She was just as determined to make sure Pax lost that argument. Dirty tricks, cheating. Whatever it took, she would be by his side when they all confronted this Kingston guy. They needed a show of force, and she would make sure they gave it to him. She needed this over, and whatever they deemed the fastest way to do that was fine with her.

  “I’m thinking Connor made his decision and we’re a go. I’ll start working on logistics.” Joel turned back to his computers.

  “I just hope I’m right.” Connor mumbled the words.

  She heard them only because they sat a few feet apart. That hard-to-swallow thing came back. “We all do.”

  * * *

  SEAN DISCONNECTED THE call and put his father’s cell down on the kitchen counter. The small thud echoed through the big empty space. He remembered the weeks of construction when his mom updated this room years ago. Dark custom-made cabinets and a huge island made from a slab of granite his father insisted had cost more than college tuition.

  The space had the best of everything. Never mind no one actually cooked in it. Not anymore. The maid once made a few meals per week, but the family had always been the eat-out type. Dining at “the club” was one of his mother’s favorite things.

  Now his father rarely ventured out of the caretaker’s cottage on the property. He lingered there or in the massive master suite that took up half of the second floor and contained more square feet than most family houses.

  He picked this moment to shuffle into the room. The golf shoes clicked against the tile as he slid his feet across the floor, probably trying not to trip.

  Ice clinked in the glass that he rotated in his hand. He’d shifted to bourbon right after lunch. “What did she say?”

  “I couldn’t reach her.” And that made him nervous. Kelsey had a business and was always there, or that’s what she claimed the last time they’d talked. He’d been looking for work and wanted to talk with her. She didn’t have time.

  “Try again.” His father lifted his other hand to reveal the crystal decanter in it. “I’ll listen in.”

  That would not help the situation at all. Sean knew that much. Not answering the phone pointed to the bigger sibling problem. One he didn’t think he could dissect on top of everything else going on. “She’s not picking up.”

  His father dropped the bottle on the counter. Then the glass hit with a hard ding right before he balanced his open palms against the island. The fingernail tapping against the stone started a second later. “We need her attention.”

  Sean wondered when this had become a “we” situation. “I’m not sure this is the right way to go. I mean, maybe the answer is to talk with Kingston or someone like the FBI. Come clean.”

  The space between his father’s shoulders stiffened. He glanced up, not lifting his head the whole way but staring at Sean over the top of his glasses. “You are going to stick with the plan, deliver the goods and then you can go wherever you want.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Which is why I am helping you.” The older man walked around the edge of the island to stand right in front of Sean. “Tell your sister you’re in trouble and she needs to come here with the box. Immediately.”

  “Why would she?”

  “She’s soft. It’s one of her many weaknesses.”

  “But someone could follow her.” Sean shifted his weight and sat on a high bar stool at the breakfast bar. Anything to put a bit of distance between his body and the wall of fury coming at him from his father.

  The older man’s lips screwed up in a look of distaste. “That’s not your concern.”

  But it was. Being on the run helped Sean understand that. Everything unfolding now could be traced back to his decisions. To his actions. He’d sent the box to Kelsey because in a world filled with friends more concerned with the kind of car they drove than what was happening at Sean’s office, she was the only person he trusted. The realization stunned him. They rarely spoke and never saw each other, but he knew she was the one he could confide in.

  His father’s mouth fell and his expression turned strangely blank. “We need the documents.”

  This time Sean couldn’t resist getting clarification. “We?”

  “Yes, son.” The older man jammed his finger against the granite with each word he spoke. “When you jumped that fence out front you made this my problem, and I’m going to fix it.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “If that were true, you would have sent the documents to me in the first place and not to Kelsey. She’s useless. Getting her to hand them over will take quite a bit of convincing. The kind of incentive you may not like.”

  The words scraped against the inside of Sean’s brain as a fissure of wariness shot through him. “They’re safe with her.”

  “Safety isn’t the issue.”

  It was Sean’s only concern, but his father’s mind clearly wandered elsewhere. “What is the issue?
”

  “Making money.” His father grabbed the scruff of Sean’s neck and shook him. The words spit into Sean’s ear.

  Sean shook him off. “What are you doing?”

  “Knocking some sense into you.” His father stalked to the other side of the island and yanked on a drawer. He pulled out a gun and dropped it on the counter with a clank.

  Sean blinked and shook his head. It took a second for the weapon to register. When the barrel and trigger came into focus, he jumped off the stool and eased away from the kitchen island. “Why do you have that?”

  “Insurance.”

  “For what?”

  His father frowned as if he thought the answer was obvious. “To make sure I get my way.”

  Everyone talked about how difficult Sandy Moore could be. Friends insisted his personality and not actual fraud led to the criminal charges. He was a target because of how he dealt with people and the enemies he’d made. With his ego, he did nothing to move the bull’s-eye off his chest.

  Sean had believed it all. He’d once ignored Kelsey’s claims about the checks in their father’s desk drawer and his iron-fisted control over money. Sean wrote all the arguments off as whining from the oldest and less successful child.

  But a gun and very real threats to use it ventured well beyond difficult. Blew right past it, actually. This wasn’t just about money. His father seemed prepared to engage in needless violence.

  Not to protect them. No, to get his way, even if he had to turn it on his blood relatives to do it.

  A gun, the implied threats, the spitting disdain for even the mention of Kelsey’s name. Sean studied his father’s face and saw, for the first time, the wild craziness in his eyes. It was possible he’d finally driven over the edge of reason.

  And now he had a gun instead of checkbook and other people’s money to play with.

  Sean’s gaze slipped from his father to the gun as he waited for a chance to grab it. But his father never lifted his hand. “Dad, I think we need—”

  “That’s what you and I are going to do, Sean. Make money. It’s either that or we’re going to have a problem.” His fingers tightened on the weapon. “Do you understand me?”

  All too clearly. Standing there with fear pinching his neck and squeezing the nerve until a headache pounded behind his eyes, Sean saw it all unfold. The end played out in his head. Irrational thought had replaced his father’s once-strong business sense. He focused on revenge and his sense of entitlement. He’d all but bought into his own deluded argument of being the victim in a press and prosecution witch hunt.

  No doubt about it. Sean had gone to the exact wrong place for help, and now Kelsey could pay the price.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The call came on a Friday morning. Bryce sat in the claustrophobic, windowless room in a nondescript office building near the Severn River and just outside of Annapolis. He’d been summoned for an emergency meeting about his baby, the Signal Reconnaissance Program. The contracting officer mentioned security concerns initiated by someone at the Pentagon. Bryce had spent the morning preparing for the hours of questioning.

  This had to be about Sean Moore. Everything lately revolved around Sean Moore and his deception.

  The whole fiasco landed Bryce in the firing line of the very military officials he’d been courting for more than two years. A target now covered his back.

  So much for thinking Dan would make things run more smoothly. Little did he know that the script Bryce had invented for this meeting and the paperwork trail he created back at the office placed all responsibility for Sean’s activities on Dan’s lap.

  But none of that mattered while Bryce paced the small office. There was nothing plush about the space. He had a metal desk and a cheap chair. Glenn had been banished to the hallway to wait. Why the officials wanted him separated from Glenn still wasn’t clear to Bryce.

  The admirals and government contracting officials who called the meeting were here for a presentation of some sort unrelated to Bryce or his company. Bryce’s job consisted of standing there without complaint.

  The rapid knocking on the door broke through his brewing fury. The door opened only a few inches, and Glenn peeked in. His usually tan face had taken on a white cast.

  But it was the interruption that surprised Bryce. “What are you doing?”

  “You have unexpected guests.” Glenn’s eyes were huge and his fingers wrapped around the door in a tight clench.

  His assistant had never been one for dramatics. He walked into meetings with powerful people and gave off an air of calm. Today he looked ready to break. And his comment made no sense.

  “Guests? This isn’t a hotel. Are you talking about our meeting?”

  “No. These are other people who insist on seeing you.”

  Bryce was not in the mood for games. He’d almost reached his end on this top-secret nonsense. He deserved more respect than to be shuffled into the equivalent of a cell by a low-level employee. “Tell security not to let the people in the building. If they want to see me, they can make an appointment back at our offices like everyone else.”

  “They’re already out here in the hall.”

  Bryce remembered the scanners and metal detectors. The process of getting guest passes took a half hour. Even then, Bryce had to walk with an escort and stay in a strict zone that included only a long white hallway filled with closed doors. “How did that happen?”

  The office door pushed open and a man in his late thirties walked in. Dark hair, muscular build and no one Bryce ever remembered seeing before. He’d memorize his face but he had a feeling he’d never find a thread on the guy.

  But that didn’t mean Bryce would accept scare tactics. “What do you want?”

  The man stepped just inside the door and stopped. His shoulders blocked the view of Glenn. Blocked out everything.

  “I was determined to see you.” That’s all he said. He dropped the statement and then let it sit there.

  “Who are you?” Bryce did a visual scan for weapons while he asked. They were there. He could sense it. The guy had a retired military look to him—tough, no-nonsense and trained.

  “My name isn’t important and not something you’re privy to anyway.” The man steadied his stance, inching his legs apart and clasping his hands behind his back. “You’re asking the wrong questions. You should be concerned with what I want, not who I am.”

  Bryce leaned to the side to get a better view of Glenn. Eye contact proved impossible since Glenn’s attention stayed on something behind him in the hallway. Bryce didn’t even want to know who or what that could be. Making the distress call too late wouldn’t help them.

  Time to ask for reinforcements. “Call security.”

  Glenn mumbled something and then spoke louder. “Sir, I think—”

  “Don’t.” Gone was the anger at being yanked around. A real concern about safety and this unknown man’s connections for getting in here took over inside Bryce. “Do it now, Glenn.”

  The unknown man held up his hand. “Wait a minute there, Glenn.”

  Bryce swallowed back old fears and centered his will on staying calm. “You sticking around will make it easier for the police when they get here, but you may wish to play this whole scene a little smarter than that.”

  “Maybe I can help clear this up.” Another man stepped into the room, pushing Glenn out of the doorway as he went.

  Bryce didn’t need an introduction this time. He’d seen that face for days on his computer screen and agonized over the accidental trip into the man’s confidential government file. Paxton Weeks, one of the people Bryce had been tracking and potentially a very dangerous man.

  Small space. Men with training and government protection. Bryce didn’t know what kind of meeting this was, but he started to have the gnawing fear he wouldn�
��t survive it.

  In an act that could be called only bravery, Glenn moved around the two bigger men and stood in the middle of the small room. “Sir, what do you want me to do?”

  Now that Bryce had some idea of the players, security seemed unnecessary. These two had whatever access they needed to be in the room, and all the yelling wouldn’t drive them out. “You can leave, Glenn.”

  “Yes. Goodbye, Glenn.” A woman’s voice issued the dismissal right before she stepped out from behind Weeks. “I think you know who I am.”

  Kelsey Moore.

  After days of useless searching, she’d walked right into range. Bryce fought back the urge to reach out and grab her. The two bodyguards would probably kill him if he tried. “What is this about?”

  Paxton shifted, subtle but definite, to block most of Kelsey’s body from view. The sign was clear. Any attack on her would have to go through him. “We know about your search for my work file. Big mistake, by the way.”

  The entire meeting agenda crystallized. This wasn’t about Sean. It was about Bryce’s own search. Not that he could admit that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The facial recognition software. I hear the NSA is upset about that breach, by the way.”

  The ball of anxiety bouncing around Bryce’s stomach picked up in speed. “I create programs of that sort. That is not a secret.”

  Paxton kept up his rapid-fire questioning. “And how do you explain the men you sent to Kelsey’s house?”

  The ball shot around until it choked Bryce. “I’m afraid your paranoia is out of control.”

  “You have one chance to come clean.” The unknown man made the comment without moving an inch.

  “Who are you again?” Whatever his name, the guy seemed to be in charge and more than happy to let Paxton launch into an abusive battle.