by Lily Danes
“Maybe someone promised him money and never paid, and now he’s trying to get what he’s owed?” Maddie knew she was clutching at straws.
Bree snorted. “And he planned to get to that money by sleeping with you? Spreadsheets, yes. Hidden caches of diamonds, probably not. You watch too many movies.”
“Says the woman who watches Die Hard every Christmas.”
Bree grinned, the smile Maddie had dubbed the Evil Genius Grin back in high school. “There’s a way everyone wins. Keep trying to figure out who set him up. Once you know, you’ve got the power. Make him beg for the info. Like, really grovel. On his hands and knees, with lengthy apologies for his betrayal, written in verse. When you feel like the score has been settled and the power balance is where it should be, have guilt-free wild monkey sex.”
There were as many flaws in that argument as in Bree’s previous one, but Maddie had no interest in picking them out. All her brain heard was “guilt-free wild monkey sex,” and that was good enough.
Besides, even a flawed plan was better than no plan at all.
Chapter Twelve
Saturday afternoon, Gabe made his way to Rogers Trucking. It was located several miles east of town.
The yard held seven fifteen-foot trucks. They’d been white once but were now a dingy gray, and the red lettering on the side was faded. There wasn’t much call for eighteen-wheelers to travel to Lost Coast Harbor, so small trucks like Adam’s made regular runs to the larger towns.
A chain-link fence ran around the property, though it wouldn’t be hard to jump it. The company was closed for the day, but Adam had left the gate open.
The office was a small trailer that held a desk, a couple of chairs, and a couch, all of which looked second-hand. It sure as hell didn’t look like the office of a man getting regular payouts for his role in running guns. The more Gabe learned about Adam Rogers, the more he was convinced the man wasn’t involved in his arrest.
He should have visited Adam days ago, but he kept getting distracted. Part of it was long days at work and too many nights trying to get information out of drunk dockworkers, but that was only part of it. The rest of the time, he waited in places he thought Maddie might visit. He figured it wasn’t stalking if he was there first. Pathetic, sure, but not stalking.
Even now, a large part of him wanted to knock on her door and find out if she was willing to give him another chance. He hated how much much he wanted that. Six years of planning, and he kept forgetting why he was really in town.
Gabe sat across from Adam in one of the straight-backed chairs. He kept both feet planted on the floor. “What did you learn?”
Adam stared him down. “That you didn’t tell me as much as you could have. You’ve got your eyes on Hastings, don’t you?”
Gabe didn’t deny it. “I didn’t know if I could trust you, and I needed to see if you’d get to Hastings on your own. If you pointed me in another direction, I’d know you were in on it.”
The other man took the time to consider his words. “I don’t appreciate the test, but I understand your reasoning. As for what I learned…not enough. There should be records of each shipment. The last guy to check the inventory fills out a form, and it’s signed again by the receiver. No truck leaves the Hastings’ depots without being thoroughly examined.”
“Let me guess,” Gabe said. “That record’s gone missing.”
“Not just on your job, either.” Adam slid a piece of paper across the desk. It held a list of dates and times, all written in Adam’s neat hand. “There’s no inventory list for any of these trips. Whoever it was, they couldn’t delete the shipments altogether. We track gas, mileage, and driver time, stuff that’s harder to erase. But someone was covering their tracks, and we have no idea who it was. The same crew was used for most of these, so we can’t even go with process of elimination. It could have been any one of those guys.”
“Was it always your trucks?”
Adam nodded. “Hastings trucks don’t run on weekends. They contract those runs to me. It makes sense. It gives them plausible deniability if my trucks are pulled over instead of theirs. I spent a lot more time answering questions than they did, that’s for sure.”
Gabe had long wondered about that. “Why didn’t they charge you or Hastings?”
“I guess they didn’t have enough proof, and you were caught red-handed. It doesn’t make sense, though. There’s no way you could have worked alone, but no one looked into other options. You pled guilty, they took my truck, and that was the end of it. Except those Friday night shipments stopped completely.”
Gabe had been so fixed on Oliver Hastings he’d forgotten how many other hands touched those damned crates. “Who else could be involved in this?”
“One person loaded the truck and lost the inventory forms. Someone else looked the other way when those forms never appeared.” Adam ticked them off on his fingers. “We’ve got at least two people involved, and probably more. Someone had to get the guns to the depot, and someone had to carry them to their destination. Probably international waters. Safer than carrying them to another US harbor. Those might be the same people, but I doubt it.”
“On the docks, it would be Oliver. It’s his office, his job to keep track of shipments.”
“It would cut out other witnesses, so it’s a good option,” Adam agreed. “Plus, Oliver runs the company. But I’m supposed to be in charge of this trucking outfit, and I had no idea. I wasn’t following up when I should have, because I trusted Hastings Shipping to keep records. Maybe Oliver was trusting the wrong people, too.”
Gabe raised his eyebrows. Everyone was so determined to believe Oliver was innocent, no matter what evidence they found.
Adam ignored his doubting expression. “There’s another discrepancy. Those shipments, the last five of them had an additional twenty miles on the odometer.”
Gabe leaned forward, eyes sharp. “They took the back route. The one I was supposed to take.”
“Exactly. But the back road is a mess for trucks. Even the fifteen-footers need to inch along it. No one would take it unless they absolutely had to. I think they knew the feds were watching the main road.”
Gabe spoke slowly, not liking the answer. “The only way they’d know that is if they had someone on the inside.”
“It would explain why everyone local only got a cursory look from the feds. Why they were happy to pin it all on an outsider. Whoever did this, they’ve got some serious protection. No matter what proof we get, we might find that no one else gives a damn.”
Gabe stalked toward town, his fingers curling into fists. He wanted to punch someone, but he didn’t know who. Oliver would be a good place to start—unless he really was as ignorant as he and Adam had been. He could pummel the faceless fed who protected Hastings. Hell, he kind of wanted to hit Adam, just for being the one to deliver the news.
A blond man carrying a small baker’s box crossed the road, heading back to his bookstore.
Declan fucking Donnelly. Maybe there was someone he could punch, after all.
Without pausing to consider how stupid this was, Gabe followed the man across the street.
A bell jangled when he opened the door. Declan was already behind the counter, a cream puff halfway to his mouth. He set it down when Gabe entered.
“Can I help you?” Declan raked his eyes over Gabe, seeing the tattoos and rough clothes that had been hidden the night of the party.
The man wore a button-down shirt. A pair of glasses sat next to a copy of the New Yorker.
“I’m looking for a book,” Gabe said.
“Anything in particular?” He sounded surprised Gabe knew how to read.
God, the man was a superior asshole. Gabe took a step toward the counter. Declan didn’t even flinch. “Something good. I’m used to reading whatever’s in the prison library. I’m not picky.” Most of the time, Gabe felt no desire to share his past with the people of Lost Coast. They probably all knew by now, but he didn’t need to remind them.
He wanted to remind Declan. He wanted the man to be afraid. The bastard needed some flaws.
Declan walked to different sections of the bookstore and plucked two books from the shelf. “Have you read any Elmore Leonard? This one’s about a bunch of fugitives who pull another heist. They end up back in prison. Or maybe The Great Gatsby? It’s the story of a man who pines for a woman he can never have.”
Oh yeah. Declan had been doing his research.
The man wasn’t even a little bit nervous that a felon stood before him. Gabe perused the new releases table, then wandered further back into the shop. A large orange cat perched on the bookshelves, watching his every move.
Gabe picked up several books and put them down before finding the right one in the romance section. He brought it to the counter.
Declan raised his eyebrows at the racy cover. “Interesting choice.”
“I thought so.” Gabe handed Declan a ten. “It looks like there’s a whole series of them. Nothing but stories of outlaws getting the girl. I feel like I might connect with it.”
Gabe walked out, leaving the man with his cream puffs. Suddenly, he felt a lot better.
Chapter Thirteen
On Tuesday morning, Maddie stared in horror at the stack of boxes in her office. She’d only requested files from the six months prior to Gabe’s arrest, but seven document boxes arrived, each stuffed with manila files, and all of those files were bursting with spreadsheets and shipping orders and invoices. It was a nightmare of numbers, the kind of project that would send most people screaming for the door.
Instead, Maddie gave a heavy sigh and began organizing them. Bree was right—she didn’t have any particular interest in math, but she was still good at it. Throw a bunch of numbers in front of her, and she’d usually make sense of them. It wasn’t an exciting gift, but it was a useful one.
Oliver was out of town that week, inspecting the company’s shipping facilities in other towns along the coast. He left plenty of work for her, but she’d already finished it. The secretary had phoned in sick. A few visitors dropped off documents from the fishing branch of Hastings Enterprises, but for the most part she was alone all day.
Maddie systematically studied each file. Most were straightforward, the kind of shipments she’d overseen hundreds of times and still would be if she’d kept her job at the docks. Lumber was sent south, grain headed north, and every other day the trucks brought in goods and packages from outside of town. Nothing unusual in any of it.
Hours later, her hands were coated with dust and she’d yet to find a single item that looked even a bit unusual. All the numbers added up.
Her stomach growled, a loud reminder that she’d skipped lunch.
Maddie replaced the files she’d already studied and set those boxes aside.
One file in the to-read pile caught her eye. More specifically, a name caught her eye.
Hesitantly, she withdrew the file and ran a finger across the letters. Gabriel Reyes.
Before she could second-guess herself, she shoved the file into her purse. Perhaps there were answers in there—answers that would tell her what kind of man Gabe really was. She hadn’t seen him since Friday night, but that hadn’t stopped her thinking about him too damn much.
Maddie locked the door behind her and headed down the narrow staircase. She blinked as she emerged into the town square. The sun was out, and it was the kind of clear, bright day you only found in the middle of winter. She welcomed the brief respite from the constant January storms.
Maddie waved to several familiar faces, and they all waved back. It had been a long time since she was a pariah in town. She’d worked hard to reinvent herself, and without any new gossip to feed them, the townspeople had moved on to juicier targets.
The bookstore was across the square from Oliver’s office. She briefly considered visiting Declan, but found she had absolutely no desire to do so.
She knew she ought to just end things before they became more complicated, especially in this tiny little town where no one ever forgot who treated who badly. Then again, it had been over a week since their second date. Maddie doubted Declan’s heart was in any danger.
She kept hoping something would change for both of them. That Declan’s calm respectability would finally affect her heart, and her body would answer to the right guy for once.
No, her body was determined to respond to one man. The one with dark eyes and hair, who spoke words that dripped with pure sin.
Use me, too. She flushed at the memory.
Enough was enough. She straightened her spine and crossed the park.
The bell above the door gave a quiet ring, but it might as well have been a siren for the way it put her nerves on end.
Declan blinked at her sudden appearance, then he set down the pastry he’d been about to eat. There was nothing easy about the smile he gave her. The orange cat sitting on the counter sniffed the food, and Declan absent-mindedly petted the creature.
“Do you want me?” Maddie’s eyes widened in horror. That wasn’t what she planned to say at all.
Declan looked equally surprised. He stammered repeatedly before managing a lackluster “I think you’re lovely.”
Unexpected relief bloomed in Maddie’s chest—not at his words, but at the complete lack of feeling behind them. She didn’t give Declan butterflies any more than he gave them to her.
“Why?” Maddie pushed, moving closer.
“Why are you lovely?” Declan had a finished New York Times crossword puzzle on the counter. He glanced at it, perhaps hoping to find a clue on the page. “Is this one of those trick questions where I explain that you’re physically attractive, then you accuse me of only seeing outer beauty?”
Maddie rested her fingers on the counter. Her hands were so close to Declan’s, and still she felt nothing. “Why did you ask me out? Why do you want me?”
He looked down for a long time, sorting through his answer. “I asked you out because you’re lovely. I thought it was worth getting to know you better.”
They both knew he’d only answered half the question.
“But you don’t want me.” Why did that make her want to laugh out loud?
“I wanted to want you.” Unlike her, Declan seemed to be in pain. “I really did.”
Without thinking, she covered his hand with hers and squeezed. It was warm and strong, but it was still just a hand. “I understand. Maybe more than you know.”
Delcan’s lips curled up, somewhere between a smile and sneer. The expression was meant only for himself. “I doubt that, but thanks.”
Maddie stepped back toward the door. As breakups went, this was relatively painless. “If it helps at all, I wanted to want you, too.”
Before she could exit, Declan called to her, “Does this have anything to do with that new guy in town? Because he looks like a whole lot of trouble.”
Maddie turned back. “What do you know about Gabe?”
Declan leaned his elbows on the counter, dark blue eyes fixed on her. “I know he wants you. Came in here to make a big show of marking his territory. But wanting something doesn’t make it the right thing for you. Trust me.”
She didn’t know if he was talking to her or to himself, but she considered his words all through her late lunch at the diner.
Maybe Gabe wasn’t the right thing for her, but forcing her heart to turn in a direction it didn’t want to go hadn’t been the right choice either.
She could almost hear Bree in her ear, offering a rebuttal. What’s so great about doing the right thing, anyway?
The way she saw it, she had three choices. She could ignore the spark between her and Gabe and wait for him to leave town. Her mind shied away from that possibility. She might have been drunk while considering the option of angry hate sex, but the idea still appealed to her in the sober light of Monday afternoon.
Her second choice was to stop doubting. Stop questioning everything she did or didn’t feel. She could give in and hope like hell her
heart didn’t get involved this time. It was a leap of faith, one she was unwilling to take. Maybe they’d have a good time, and when he left town she’d be left with a few memories to keep her warm for the rest of winter—or maybe her emotions would decide to follow her body. She couldn’t take the chance that Gabe Reyes would hold her heart in his hand. She didn’t know what he’d do with it, or if he even deserved it.
That left the third option. She could use him.
Just the thought brought her body to life—and made the rest of her feel hollow.
Maddie’s steps slowed as she approached the office’s outside door. The open door.
Her ears strained, listening for the sound of anyone above her. She’d locked the door, and the only other people who should have a key were Oliver and his secretary. Sharon was at home, and Oliver was in San Francisco that afternoon. He’d emailed her while she ate lunch.
Maybe she’d just forgotten, though she knew that was a lie. Maddie never forgot.
She inched her way up the stairs, cringing as the floorboards squeaked below her. Gathering her courage, she flung the inside door all the way open.
Maddie gasped.
The documents that had been perfectly organized now covered the floor. Files were chucked in corners, the papers spilling loose.
Her eyes darted around the room. It was empty. She kept her back to the wall as she inched toward Oliver’s office door and jiggled the handle. She unlocked it. No one was inside.
She peeked inside the small bathroom and checked behind the door, then looked underneath the desks. Her heart raced the entire time, and only when she was certain no one was going to jump out at her did she slam the door shut and lock it. She braced a chair underneath the door handle.
Maddie sat cross-legged in the middle of the sea of papers. They’d been strewn everywhere, with no apparent order or plan. It almost looked like someone just wanted to make a mess, but she knew better. No one would risk being spotted exiting the office in the middle of the afternoon if they weren’t desperate. Whoever had been here, they’d been looking for something.