by V. R. Marks
As he finished the cleanup and closed the dishwasher, it hit him. She'd lied all right, but not about writing the letters. Her voice had cracked when she'd delivered that line about being over him.
All this time he'd felt abandoned, betrayed by his best friend, and she'd been feeling the same way. It was too bizarre to make any real sense. He didn't know what happened to the letters and at the moment he didn't much care. She wasn't over him and that felt like the best news he'd had since they'd parted so many years ago.
Chapter 7
When Allie heard the door chime and the security system's 'armed' announcement as Ross left the house she flopped back on the bed, swamped in mortification. Had she convinced him she was over him? She sure hadn't convinced herself.
Feeling the sting of tears, she pressed her hands to her eyes. Ross and her volatile feelings for him wasn't the primary issue here. Her heart wasn't the issue. Happiness wasn't even the issue.
She needed to focus on the fact that someone was gunning for her - literally - and threatening the people she held dear. While she never could have imagined being in this situation, she knew it was past time to grow a spine and be brave.
She rolled off the bed and took a few deep breaths. Time to be proactive in resolving her problems. With Ross out of the house for a bit it was safe to go to his office and look at the mug shots Eva had sent.
Moving cautiously down the hall, she peered around the corner. Confirming the kitchen and great room were still empty, she darted into the office.
It too was empty and the computer was on, as advertised. She sank into the big leather chair and tried not to inhale the warm, masculine scent of Ross that surrounded her.
While the email program loaded, she gave herself a mental pep talk. Yes, he was handsome, strong, and ethical. In essence he embodied everything she wanted the love of her life to be. Except dependable on an emotional level. When this was over she was determined they would part as friends. And she was equally determined to stop measuring every potential relationship against the wishes and fantasies of her youthful dreams.
She opened the first email, and clicked to open the attachment. She'd expected a few mug shots, but Eva had sent dozens of faces in sets of six.
Allie scrolled through the first three sets, but none of the faces looked familiar, neither before nor after she'd left her job and her life in Virginia. Leaning back, she rubbed her temples and decided it was time for another cup of coffee. Along with some food to replace the breakfast she'd skipped because of that ridiculous argument. She glanced around, wishing she knew how to access Ross' security system so she could get an idea how much time she had before the next inevitable encounter.
Moving quickly, she made a peanut butter sandwich, filled a mug with coffee and headed back to the comparative safety of the office.
After a few more minutes, she thought she might develop a perpetual squint from staring at so many bored, vacant, and angry faces. The eyes bothered her more than any other feature. Some were flat and dead while others oozed hate. None were familiar.
Wondering if her recall was faulty, she closed her eyes and thought back through the events of that night in Aunt Ruth's house. The way she'd turned when the first bullet had torn through the treadmill. She'd seen his eyes: clear, dark and emotionless. Perfectly framed by that black ski mask. And later, when she'd seen the face under the mask, those features were burned into her memory.
She cupped her suddenly chilled hands around the coffee mug, preparing to give each face another look, keeping those eyes in mind. Clicking through from one group to the next, another face niggled at her, teasing her with a vague sense of familiarity.
She noted the number, and opened a draft email to Eva. But it was the second group of females that made Allie want to thump her head against the desk.
The fake deputy's face was staring back at her with a decidedly smug expression. It was the 'I dare you' look in her eyes that triggered Allie's memory.
Opening another internet tab, she entered the title of her company's online newsletter into the search bar. The article she wanted was a few months back, but when it came up, she sighed with relief. The day rushed back through her mind, and suddenly she remembered both faces clearly.
It had been one of her first publicity events at an inner city clinic and so successful it became a benchmark for the following outreach endeavors. The company had made a day of it, using a carnival theme and putting children at ease while they announced a new program that would provide free basic medicines and antibiotics to the clinic patients. Nicole, in her role as Allie's photographer, had taken loads of shots.
Allie skimmed through the collage in the newsletter, finding both the man who was now dead and the woman who was in FBI custody.
Her fingers tingled as she completed her email to Eva, explaining the gang connection she didn't realize she'd had. It also meant her boss - former boss- had a connection too.
Everyone at the event had signed release forms for the photos. Their names would be in a file easily accessed by any of the executives.
Bradley had proven his devious nature by bringing a bad drug to market, paving the way with promises, money, and rigged research results. Looking up a few kids in unfortunate circumstances and hiring them to do his dirty work didn't seem like much of a stretch. She'd bet the last of her savings account, the mugger was part of the same gang.
Quickly, she sent a second email to Eva. If her company laptop or bag turned up, maybe they could pull fingerprints. A long shot, but she didn't want to miss any possible evidence linking Bradley to her trouble.
Even dead, if Bradley's criminal behavior could be exposed, surely that would clear her name. She didn't expect to save her job, but that was a minor concern compared to the lives of people who trusted in pharmaceuticals every day.
The house security system alarm went off, startling her. She only relaxed a fraction when the disarm announcement followed. She was in no hurry to go another round with Ross. His footsteps were quiet, but aimed unerringly for the office. Her heart rate sped up when the footsteps stopped at the door. "Did you have any luck?"
"Yes, actually," she replied, swiveling the chair. She forced a smile she hoped hid her lingering uneasiness.
"But you didn't recognize the faces when you were attacked?"
"Things were a little dicey in those moments," she said in her defense. Pausing, she changed the subject. "Eva sent so many mug shots I thought I'd go cross eyed." She reached for her coffee, sipping to put an end to her rambling. Steadier, she added, "The mug shots sparked a memory. Both the man and woman showed up to my first clinic publicity carnival event. Everyone signed release forms, so the names are in the company records. I emailed all the details to Eva."
"Good." He smiled, but it looked tight to her. She stopped that line of thinking. Analyzing his emotional state wasn't her business. She had to protect her heart. "She'll send the new information on to Cochran," he added.
"I have to assume that's how Bradley found them and hired them to follow me around and do his dirty work."
Ross nodded. He pushed off the door jamb, but didn't come any closer. She tried to ignore the way his shoulders filled the doorway, but it was useless. Even after this morning's argument, it was going to take a monumental effort to leave him when this was over.
For the first time she wondered if being friends was even possible. Friends would stay in contact. Friends would talk and exchange Christmas cards at the very least. All of that normal friendship stuff guaranteed more pain for her.
This unexpected reunion proved that being close to him still turned her inside out. Simply put, she was too vulnerable with this man. She forced her lips into a wide smile, knowing it was too bright, but it kept her lips from trembling. "I'll let you have your computer back."
She stood up, and gathering her plate and coffee mug, she kept the desk between them as they exchanged places. Almost clear, she caught him staring at her mouth again. "What?" She couldn't
deal with this sexual tension at a constant simmer. Did he want her or her friendship or, like her, did he realize they were better off with none of the above?
He cleared his throat and raised her cell phone. "Rick sent the video feed from the bank lobby. Maybe you'll recognize who made the transfer."
She wanted to ask how Rick had managed that, then realized she didn't really want to know. Ross had lived a whole life in their years apart and the impact of those experiences had changed him. Clearly his experiences had granted him a new career along with some serious resources and connections.
Her feet were heavy as cement blocks as she took the necessary steps, stopping behind the chair. She didn't hover as he had when she showed him the banking records. "Go ahead."
Being this close to him made it feel like an eternity passed before the video was ready to play. The delay gave her too much time to think about Ross. With an effort, she turned her thoughts to who might have the audacity to come after the money Bradley had stolen.
"It has to be one of the executives from accounting," she murmured.
"Why?"
"Access," she replied.
The chair creaked as Ross fidgeted. Maybe the breakfast argument still troubled him too. She quashed the glimmer of hope that wanted to spring up again. Discipline and sheer common sense would be her true allies, getting her through this challenging time.
"Well, we're about to know for sure."
Assuming the culprit was kind enough to smile up at a camera, she thought. Bracing for anything and secretly expecting to see the executive who'd told her to mind her own business, she gasped at the face on the screen.
"I'll be damned," Ross muttered.
"He's not very dead," she whispered. But there was no mistaking that it was her boss - former boss - Bradley Roberts, alive and well enough to make the withdrawal and laugh with the teller while he did it. "You recognize him too?"
"Of course." Ross fisted his hand over the keyboard and took one of his measured breaths. "Been going through the file since the gang banger took a shot at you. Your reaction confirms it. That's Roberts, right? Eva, did the, ah, initial background work when the complaint came through from the company."
She was learning not to be surprised by anything his team pulled off. "Your clients must be pleased with the way you go the extra mile."
"Uh-huh." He clicked away from the video, taking a look at the rest of the report from Rick. "This time stamp is bad news."
"You mean it's wrong?" Allie was struggling to follow Ross' logic.
"No. It's right. Rick swears this hasn't been tampered with and I believe him."
"So Bradley is definitely alive."
"Looks that way to me. And he likely wants you to be alive enough to give him access to his money tucked away offshore."
"So who's in the morgue?"
"Good question." He leaned back and shot her a quizzical look. "Any ideas?"
She looked away, knowing her defenses were weak against the temptation he presented. This was a case, her future on the line. She needed to focus on what mattered. "My guess would be a homeless man matching his build." The thought made her sick to her stomach. "Probably a patient from the clinic."
Allie didn't want to think about it, but Ross rolled his hand, urging her to continue, as he studied the footage from the bank again.
"If he used the company influence with the clinic to make contact with the gang, it isn't a big stretch that he'd manipulate someone else to get what he wanted. Before this, I wouldn't have pegged him for a killer, but he seems desperate to me."
"Yeah. I've thought the same thing."
"You have?" She frowned down at him, wondering how much research he'd done into her life recently.
The chair creaked again. "Desperate men do desperate things that usually only increase the collateral damage. Did Roberts happen to like hunting or Clark bars?"
"I have no idea. I never paid much attention."
"Your boss is playing a dangerous game."
"Former boss." The distinction seemed essential right now. "And seeing how I've been followed and attacked on several occasions I am well aware of how dangerous he is. Have you heard anything on Nicole?"
"Rick gave me very few details, but assured me she's out of harm's way." Ross sighed. "My primary concern, aside from you and your safety, is who is actually in this with Roberts and who has simply been fooled by his devious actions."
Relief for her friend was short lived as Allie pondered the same thing. Who else had Roberts used and manipulated to facilitate his greed? Covering up a faulty drug was bad enough. Learning he'd taken another life to get more money chilled her to the bone. "How do we find out? How can I help?"
Ross drummed his fingertips on the arms of his chair. "Between Rick and Eva more details will come in. I'll contact the sheriff and the FBI." The look he gave her was a full blown warning. "It could get sticky for you."
He was referring to the emails and cost analysis on the hard drive. Well, she was a thief, if not a very good one. From the moment she'd secured the data, she'd known there would be consequences eventually. She managed a weak nod. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop him." A shiver skated down her spine as she headed out of the office.
Ross joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later.
"That was fast." And she was looking for an excuse to get away from him. She added space to the discipline and common sense that would get her through until they parted ways again.
He smiled and wiggled his fingers. "I can be efficient."
"You okay?" The gentleness in his voice did nothing to soothe the terror skipping along her nerves. She was afraid for herself, for her family, and especially for Ross.
Bradley's actions gave greed a whole new definition. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't refill her coffee mug. More caffeine was probably a bad idea anyway. "We have to flush him out, Ross. We have to catch him before he gets to the offshore account."
"Agreed."
She struggled to breathe normally as she turned. "He found us out here," she whispered.
"I know. I've taken a few precautions. He won't get that close again."
The resolve in his dark eyes was her undoing. He embodied protection. Security. Determination. When he opened his arms, she rushed forward into his embrace.
And sent space, discipline, and common sense packing.
* * *
Ross held her gently, wishing for the power to erase the stark fear in her eyes. Instead he saw the truth with an uncomfortable clarity. The immediate future was pocked with danger and snags that could cost him everything.
Everything, by his new definition, meant Allie.
Roberts being alive explained how his private haven had been compromised. The client had managed to clone his phone, probably at the first meeting. It was no stretch to assume he'd cloned Eva's phone too and done the legwork from there. The bastard was a whole lot sneakier than most men sporting custom made suits and hand sewn Italian shoes.
But Roberts wasn't the only one at fault. Ross couldn't ignore the spark of revenge he'd felt at the thought of catching Allie doing something wrong. It had been small and petty and he should tell her everything - right now - but he hesitated to ruin this moment. He didn't want to risk her anger and hate. Couldn't bear the idea of risking her safety should she refuse his assistance and protection. He didn't want to contemplate losing her forever.
"I hate this," she said, backing away from him.
His stomach rolled, but he kept his tone neutral and his hands to himself. "Understandable."
"No." She shook her head, flicking a hand between the two of them. "Not the case stuff. This. The you and me part of this. I hate that my instinct is to turn to you for comfort."
"I'm that awful?" She didn't used to think so, but this was Allie the woman, not the girl who'd been his best friend. He shoved his hands in his pockets, not trusting his reactions. Shake her or kiss her were fighting for priority on his to-do list.
/> "No." She glared at him. "Of course not."
Watching her teeth catch her full lower lip, he nearly groaned from wanting her. "What then?"
"Honestly?"
Please! He didn't say it. Instead, he waited for her to spit out whatever was on her mind.
"You have a job to do and I'm getting in the way."
"Aren't you forgetting that keeping you safe is my job? We need you, and likely your testimony, in order to wrap this case up and capture Roberts." Among other things.
"I get all that. But it's not your job to do all the emotional soothing and make me feel better."
"Cut yourself some slack. This is a tough situation, Allie."
"Exactly! I need to get tough. I can't keep leaning on you like an emotional crutch because I'm scared."
Leaning on him sounded more than fair, but he didn't say it. His instinct to protect her was too revealing and the resulting vulnerability went against all his years of training.
Besides he wanted to make her feel other things. Like the heat of his mouth against her throat. Wanted her to feel his hands on her soft breasts while he teased her nipples to tight, eager peaks. He wanted her to shiver as his breath caressed her skin while he joined his body to hers in a sensual rhythm that would drive them both over the edge.
"You really wrote to me, didn't you?"
"Pardon?" The quick changeup had him reeling. He pulled himself out of his fantasy and retreated to the relative safety of the couch. If he wasn't careful he'd need a throw pillow to hide his desire for her. Too bad he'd never bothered to buy anything so useful for this house.
"From basic training," she clarified. "You did write me letters."
No sense denying it now after his outburst this morning. Ross scrubbed at his face. "Every chance I got." He caught the look of wonder on her face. "You finally believe me?"
"Yes." His mood brightened when she smiled. Good grief, he was a sap, pining for his high school sweetheart this way. Still, he wanted to clear the air and he felt his mouth tilt, smiling back at her.