Crossing Double (A Heartbreaker Novel Book 3)

by Tamra Baumann

“Same here.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “But it’ll be worth the wait.”

  She was sure of it.

  He grinned. “But now I’m starving. How about you?”

  “Let’s go raid Mario’s fridge!” She threw the covers back, relieved he hadn’t told her he’d rather be alone. She was too wired up to be alone. “Or we can order a pizza from room service. Mario’s hotel delivers twenty-four seven.”

  “Pizza sounds amazing.” Brent plumped up their pillows against the headboard. “What do you like on yours?”

  She had weird taste in pizza, but if they were going to be together, he might as well know that sooner rather than later. While slipping into her robe, she said, “I like anchovies and black olives.”

  He blinked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.” She found the button on the panel beside an old-fashioned dial phone to order and lifted the receiver. “We’ll just get two different halves. What do you want on yours?”

  “Chicken and barbeque sauce.”

  “Funny. Seriously, what do you want?”

  He held up his palms. “That’s seriously what I like.”

  “Gross. I think we’d better order two separate pizzas. I don’t think my anchovies could bear touching your barbeque sauce.” And she thought she had weird taste in pizza toppings. Who put barbeque sauce on pizza?

  He grinned. “Then I don’t think I can kiss a mouth that’s had anchovies in it.”

  She rolled her eyes and ordered the pizzas.

  After she hung up, she walked to the door and stuck her head out. The goon in the hall raised a brow in question. “We ordered pizzas. They should be here in a half hour. We’ll share if you intercept the room service person at the elevator so they don’t wake my mom and Mario.”

  “Can’t leave my post, but I’m starving. Let me get someone else to do it.” He took out his cell and tapped a text. “Done. I’ll knock when it’s here. What kind we got?”

  When she told him, his face puckered up as though he’d just sucked a lemon. “Yeah. No thanks. I just lost my appetite.”

  “Suit yourself.” She shut the door and then padded across the thick carpet back to the bed. Her guest room was decorated with a ’30s décor, tasseled lampshades, red velvet bedspread, and antique fixtures in the bath matching the rest of the hotel’s décor. It should be tacky, but it was sort of cool. She crawled into bed and sat next to Brent against the headboard. Then she lifted the receiver and ordered a pepperoni pizza for the guard.

  After she hung up, she said, “The dude in the hall thinks you have terrible taste in pizza.”

  “But never in women.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “I feel bad that I don’t have a Christmas present for you. I’d buy you your own Rubik’s cube, but I can’t use my online account and give our location away. How about a rain check?”

  “That’d be great.” She’d almost forgotten all about Christmas. And it was so late that it was officially Christmas Eve. She’d miss Zoila’s dinner later. She hated that. And the worries Zoila must have. “I bought you a gift. I got it just in case you showed up for Zoila’s dinner.”

  “That was nice.” He laid a kiss on the top of her head. “No one has bought me a Christmas gift in a very long time.”

  That broke her heart. “Which reminds me. Why don’t you celebrate holidays?”

  He huffed out a breath. “Because those were the days my mom would be the saddest. She’d drink, do drugs, and pass out, leaving me to fend for myself.”

  “I’m sorry. No kid should have to deal with that. You don’t have any other family?” She couldn’t imagine a little boy spending Christmas alone like that.

  “Not that I know of. When does school start again for you? Maybe after all of this is over, we can get away for a long weekend. I have tons of vacation I’ve never used.”

  “That sounds nice, but way to change the subject.” She snuggled closer, laying her head on his big shoulder and her hand over his heart. It beat slow and steady under her palm. “I go back mid-January. I can’t wait to graduate. One of the counselors at the shelter set up an interview for me a few weeks ago. They said the job is mine if I want it. How long have you been an FBI agent who doesn’t use his vacation?”

  “Four years.” His big palm slowly ran up and down her arm. “This is my first field assignment. I’m hoping they let me have more, but it’s not likely. They told me my gift was too unique to risk losing me in the field. I could be hit by a bus on my way to the office one day just as easily, but they don’t see it that way.”

  “If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit?” She lifted her chin so she could see his face.

  He shook his head. “No one else I interviewed with offered a pension. Or the kind of benefits you get working for the government.” He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  “Benefits are important, but what about enjoying your work? I mean, I bet the space program would love to have a weirdo like you. Studying infinite numbers of stars and seeing patterns. You could find another solar system or something. Or how about starting your own hedge fund? That’s gotta be exciting, like gambling, but with you, it’d be much more calculated.”

  He frowned. “I’m just going to invest for myself until I get the house, then I’ll do my time with the agency, retire, and be all set.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with his life plan, but she was curious. “How much have you made toward your house goals by investing so far?”

  A shy smile slowly lit his face. “Two and a half million.”

  “What?” She sat up and faced him. “In four years? That’s amazing,”

  “I trade commodities. It’s almost like cheating for me, it’s so easy sometimes.”

  “And I can see it makes you happy.” He had an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

  He pulled her back to his side. “What makes me happy is to think I’ll have that house on the water in just a few years if all goes well. It’ll go even quicker if I can bring Miller and all his pals down. And maybe I’ll get a dog. A big one, I think.”

  “That all sounds perfect. But then you’d still have to go to a boring job every day for thirty or forty years.”

  “It’ll be worth it in the end. So what did you buy me for Christmas?”

  Brother. The guy could change the subject faster than a TV remote changed channels. “It’s a surprise. Just know that I’m an excellent gift giver. You’ll love it. And it’s ten times better than a Rubik’s cube. Just saying.”

  “I was kidding about the Rubik’s cube.” He laid a kiss on top of her head. “I’ll buy you something nicer. I noticed you only wear that little heart necklace, no flashy jewelry, which surprises me. And limits my gift choices greatly.”

  “Jewelry for Christmas is cliché. You can do better than that.” She lifted the necklace and opened the heart. “My dad gave me this when I was eleven. He said it was to remind me that when we’re apart, I’d always be in his heart. But he tends to bruise mine sometimes.”

  Brent leaned closer and examined the pictures inside. “That’s a cute picture of you.” He glanced up and stared into her eyes. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to have someone love me that much. No matter how I treated her.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “I know my dad isn’t perfect. And as far as fathers go, he’s been pretty selfish. Using me and Scott for photo ops at his wedding was obnoxious. I get all that. But at the end of the day, he does love me.”

  Brent’s hands framed her face, and he lifted it. “Your father used your account to commit fraud. That’s why we have to get that data to Zach first thing in the morning. To prove you’re innocent and your father is guilty.”

  Guilty? “Wait. I thought Miller was using my dad. Are you saying my dad might go to jail too? And that by giving you that data, I’ll be sending him there?”

  Brent’s eyes filled with compassion, but his voice was hard when he said, “Yes.”

  She shook her head and pu
lled away. She couldn’t be responsible for sending her father to jail. What was she going to do?

  “Sara.” Brent reached for her, but she evaded. “You have to clear your name first and foremost. Your father made his bad choice. Don’t let him hurt you any further. The truth will come out eventually with or without your data. Don’t make things worse by trying to protect him. It could look as if you knew what he was doing.”

  His words made sense in her head, but her heart didn’t know if she could live with herself if she gave Brent the data.

  Could she make a deal for the data to save both her and her dad? Not with Brent. He clearly wouldn’t go along with that. But maybe someone higher up. Mario mentioned his family had some incriminating evidence against Miller. Maybe Mario knew of someone else much more notorious involved they could trade for her father?

  Brent stood and hugged her. “I know this is hard. But it’s the right thing to do. Put yourself first for a change. Please?”

  She nodded, but her mind still reeled with other scenarios. Her dad had to have been just a pawn in the bigger picture. She at least had to try to save him.

  A knock on the door sounded. Thank God for the pizza. Hopefully, it’d put an end to their conversation. She didn’t want to have to lie to Brent about what she planned to do.

  Brent stared at the ceiling as the late morning sunlight slipped between a crack in the heavy curtains. He’d been exhausted by the time he’d crawled into bed around two a.m. Sara had become quiet while they ate pizza earlier. She was up to something. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

  Then she’d kissed him on the cheek claiming anchovy breath and said good night as she nudged him out the door and back to his bedroom. He’d hoped she’d let him stay.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh, but her dad was a prick with a capital P. It’d be a colossal mistake to jeopardize her freedom for her father’s. Even give the FBI a hint that she could’ve known what he was up to. Because she could have. She needed to separate herself as far from her dad as she could. He needed to talk some sense into her sweet, bleeding heart.

  He threw the covers back and stood as a thought struck him so hard, he sat back down on the mattress. He still loved his imperfect mother. Always would. Even though he’d never respect the choices she made while alive. How many excuses had he made for her? How many times had he forgiven her because he loved her with all his heart? Flaws and all.

  He might owe Sara an apology, but at the same time point out that her father made terrible choices that he needed to accept responsibility for making. She could visit him in jail. Make sure he had money for commissary in the white-collar prison he’d be sent to and make his stay more comfortable while there, if that’d make her feel better. But she needed to do the right thing and save herself.

  After he’d showered and changed into the jeans and dark-green button-down shirt that had miraculously appeared on his bed by the time he got out of the bath, he opened his bedroom door. He lifted his chin in greeting at the new guard who occupied the hallway. Brent was about to knock on Sara’s door when the door next to it opened, and Eva stepped out holding Mittens.

  Sara’s grandmother had been in the room next door? He and Sara hadn’t been quiet the night before.

  Crap.

  “Good morning, Brent. Want to walk an old lady to brunch?” She winked. “That is if you have the strength. It sounds like you showed Sara a good time last night.”

  What the hell was a guy supposed to say to that? “Well, uh…”

  Sara’s grandmother laughed. “I haven’t made a full-grown man blush like that in a long time. Bet Sara finds that cute about you. Let’s go eat.”

  He pointed toward Sara’s door. “I wanted to talk to her about something first.”

  “I heard Sara leave hours ago, which means we need to hurry. Sara can pack away a hearty breakfast with the best of them. If she ate the Danish Mario always orders in special for me, she’s gonna hear about it. That girl has a wicked sweet tooth.”

  Brent crooked his arm for Eva to take and smiled. He’d never had a grandmother but wouldn’t mind one like Sara’s. Eva was all right. “Any idea where Sara’s love of sweets comes from?”

  “You got me there.” Eva laughed as they started down the hallway. “But before we get to the dining room, can I ask you a question?”

  Oh God. He braced himself. “Sure.”

  “You have a gift for numbers, but do you believe that people can have other extraordinary gifts? Like the ability to see into the future through dreams or visions?”

  Sara must’ve told them about his gift. “Not really. The FBI has people they use who claim they’re sensitive and can help solve crimes, but they’re wrong as often as they’re right.”

  Eva nodded. “But when they’re right, there’s no explaining how they knew, is there?”

  “Good guess, I suppose.” At Eva’s tug on his arm, Brent stopped walking.

  “Then tell me this. Why did I see a house in my dreams last night? One with a front door as blue as the Mediterranean Sea, three stories high, perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean? From the rear, it looks to be made of solid glass, and has a shower on the top floor with an amazing view that made me feel like I was on a boat in the middle of the ocean.”

  How the hell could she know that about his future home? It had never been listed for sale. It’d been in Zach’s family since his father had it built. Sara didn’t know any of those details. “What game are you playing here, Eva?”

  She shook her head. “No games. I see things in my dreams, Brent. I don’t always know why I see things, but this particular dream included you.”

  “Me? In the house?” None of what Eva was saying made any sense.

  “No, you were standing at the front door with your hands in your pockets, trying to decide if you wanted to go inside.”

  She was older. Maybe confused. He’d give her a break. “I think we kept you up last night and so, of course, your dreams might include Sara and me. Sorry about that.”

  “Sara wasn’t in the dream. Just you. You were trying to make a big decision.”

  Why he felt suddenly sad that Sara wasn’t with him in the dream was stupid. The whole conversation was ridiculous. “Let’s agree to disagree on this. Okay?” But how she could know about his future home still puzzled.

  “You’re still skeptical. That’s understandable. But it was a similar dream that Annalisa had. It’s how she knew to warn Sara about the wedding and Miller’s friends. She’d kill me for telling you that. You see, it’s not good for her perfect image if her fans think she’s a freak. Like you think I am right now.” Eva started walking again with increased urgency.

  He jogged to keep up. “I don’t think you’re a freak, Eva. It was just a dream.”

  Eva stopped and patted the side of his face. “Poor boy. You’ll look back on this conversation and see that the dreams make sense of everything soon. But by then, the damage will already be done.”

  He lifted his hands. “I can’t use dreams as evidence in court. I’d rather know the truth.”

  “I just told you the truth.” She let out a long breath. “You’re going to have to make a few choices here very soon. I hope you’ll keep Sara’s best interests in mind, because she loves you, Brent. And love is a fragile gift that, once rejected, may never offer itself up again. Take your phone call.”

  Eva hurried toward the dining room just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. A chill ran up his spine, leaving him with gooseflesh on his arms.

  Coincidence. That was all.

  He’d been waiting to hear back from Zach. “Hello?”

  “Agent Keiser? Special Agent in Charge John Baker here.”

  Zach had said Baker would be calling. “Yes, sir?”

  “Ms. Chapman sent an email this morning alerting us to her whereabouts. It includes incriminating information we need to talk to her about. Ask her to voluntarily come in for questioning. If she refuses, we still have
a warrant for her arrest.”

  “A warrant issued by Miller that’s bogus. Ms. Chapman is innocent. Her father had direction of her account. She never touched it.”

  “The director wants to know where she got that information. You have your orders, Keiser. We also have a subpoena for a search warrant for Mr. Giovanni’s residence and a team downstairs. After you contain Sara and get her clear, let me know.”

  What the hell?

  “Arresting Sara was never part of the deal. We talked about putting her somewhere safe until we can bring Miller in.”

  “If you can’t handle this alone, I’ll send someone up to do it for you.”

  That wasn’t what Zach had said to do, but Zach wasn’t the agent in charge. “I’ve got this. But no need for the search warrant. Mario isn’t involved.” Probably. There wasn’t any evidence to support that. Mario had only offered to help.

  “Are you kidding? We’ve been trying to get inside the Giovanni circle since I was your age. No way we’re giving up this opportunity. Get Ms. Chapman secure, Agent. Now!”

  What email did Sara send? And a search warrant? Mario had probably saved their lives. Hopefully, Mario was really as clean as he claimed.

  But everything would be fine as soon as Sara wrote down the data from her computer. She’d be questioned and ferried off to a safe house.

  “I need twenty minutes.”

  “What for?” The impatience in his superior officer’s voice meant Brent had better come up with a better reason than to convince Sara it was the right thing to do.

  “I need Ms. Chapman to give me a vital piece of evidence. It’s information that’ll save me weeks of reconstruction. My mission was to find the players at the top. Weeks gives them time to ghost.”

  Baker was silent for a few moments before he said, “You get fifteen minutes. Then we’re coming in. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” He disconnected and took off at a run.

  Chapter 18

  Sara had just finished her third amazing Danish. Who knew how hungry that much sex could make a girl the next morning? Even after late-night pizza. “Mario, these are the best pastries I’ve ever had.”