by Barb Han
“Your mom’s care isn’t cheap, Raina. Think about what you’re doing.”
“I’ll figure it out.” Raina’s cheeks flushed like she was embarrassed. “I always do. Besides, they can’t fire me.”
Obviously, there was more to the story. There was also no way Dash was going to allow Raina’s career to be ruined over this investigation. He made a mental note to ask about her mother later.
“Let’s just say for argument’s sake that Raina isn’t going anywhere,” Dash interrupted.
Layla blew out a sharp breath but didn’t speak.
“Tell me about your relationship with Calum Langston,” he said.
Layla’s eyes widened in a moment of shock. Her mouth formed the word ‘how’ despite no sound coming out.
And then it seemed to dawn on her that he was good at his job.
“Of course you would figure it out,” she said low and under her breath.
She exhaled before launching into the story of their relationship. She explained the situation in a similar fashion to Raina. Essentially, he was a jerk who was using her to have an affair. Dash could wait for Madeline’s response to get answers to some of the more sensitive questions, so he didn’t waste time putting Layla on the spot.
“Why would he set you up?” he asked directly.
“You’re asking me?” She smacked the flat of her palm against the sterile white table between them. “Because he’s a jerk who didn’t want to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar?”
Dash didn’t care for the reference when it came to his little sister, but he overlooked it for the sake of time.
“Why would sending you to prison be good for him?” he asked.
“I’m guessing he discredited me so his wife wouldn’t believe a word I said. I stupidly threatened to tell her all about us.”
He had to ask. “Were you going to?”
“No. I was angry at him. He lied to me and made me a mistress.” She cast her eyes down.
“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. Anyone can be tricked when they’re in love.”
“Is that what happened with you and Talia?” Layla lashed out when she couldn’t deal with her emotions. Bringing up his ex was a tactic to get him off his game so he wouldn’t notice how much she was hurting.
“Maybe. What does it matter now?” Except that Talia had returned and could be responsible for targeting Layla. She needed to know. “Talia’s back, by the way.”
For a split second, he thought her jaw might hit the floor. “When did she get out?”
“Six months ago. You should know that she’s been around my work and my apartment. I had no idea until earlier today,” he admitted.
“That’s not good news. The woman is not well.”
“That may be true, but she’s also a threat. She has the kind of skills to pull something like this off,” he said. He took note that Raina had gotten quiet.
“So, my brother’s ex-lover is coming after me?”
Raina crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her elbows, like she was staving off the cold. The temperature in the room hovered on the warm side, so it couldn’t be from that.
“It’s a possibility,” he said. “One that we can’t afford to ignore.”
Layla’s brain started churning. She was being abrupt and more than a little obnoxious, which told him she had all her defenses going at the moment. Defenses that would allow her to turn around and be taken back into a cell by the guard standing at the door. So he would cut her some slack.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she finally said, but he could almost see the shift in direction happening in her mind.
“Five more minutes, Ms. West,” the guard said with a finality that said there was no give-and-take.
Layla leaned back in her chair. Her gaze shifted to Raina. “I’m embarrassed you have to see me like this.”
“Don’t be. I know you didn’t do it. I know the truth about Calum, and I’ll make certain—”
“No,” Layla interrupted. “You won’t. Think about it, Rain. If Calum is responsible and he did this to me, he’ll have no problem taking you down. Don’t risk it, okay?” Layla’s shoulders sagged. “It’s bad enough that I’m in here. I can’t have you in the cell next to me.”
Dash’s stomach clenched. “She won’t be. Not on my watch.”
“Okay. Good. Now get out of here before they kick you out.” Layla was taking charge of the situation, trying to decide when they left rather than have the time forced on her. It was a defense mechanism to give her some semblance of control, so he didn’t fight it.
Instead, he stood up. “I’ll send you the name of a new lawyer.”
Layla shook her head furiously. “Trust me on this one. My guy is the best.”
Dash had already pointed out that the man represented criminals, not innocent people like her. But then, maybe she had her reasons. He could save the argument for another time.
Raina stood up first, and the look on her face said they were going to have words once they got back in the car.
* * *
“WHAT DID YOU mean by ‘not on my watch’?” Raina didn’t need Dash fighting her battles. She was capable of looking after herself.
“I’d like to swing by your place so you can pick up a couple of things that would make you more comfortable at my apartment,” Dash said as he started the vehicle.
“I thought you didn’t bring women home, Dash.”
“I don’t. And you’re not a woman,” he said and then seemed to hear how the words sounded as they came out of his mouth. “We both know you’re a woman. You’re not just any woman. You’re important to my sister.” He reached across and closed his hand around hers. “And to me.”
The contact sent a jolt through her hand and up her arm. She pulled back in the same manner she would if she’d been bitten by a snake.
“Don’t play that card with me, Dash.” She had no intention of being manipulated by his charm, no matter how much her mind tried to argue he genuinely cared.
He didn’t deny it, and she appreciated him for it. Instead, he issued a sharp sigh. “This is too little, too late, but I do miss you. That part is the honest truth. Also, I would say just about anything right now to reassure my sister, as long as it was legal and had a hint of truth to it. In this case, there’s more than a hint. I do realize after the way we left things that I’m probably not high on your list of favorite people right now.”
She folded her arms across her chest, waiting to hear the rest of what he had to say.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens to you, Raina.”
The reality she might be in danger started to sink in. Her association with Layla could get her in trouble with someone like Calum. Mainly, she knew the truth of what had happened between them. He could deny it all day long, but she’d been the one to figure out his wife was pregnant.
“By the way, you mentioned that you were the one who told my sister about Calum’s wife. How did you find out she was pregnant?”
“Same gynecologist,” she supplied. “He was there in the waiting room with his wife. They were sitting to one side of the room, so I didn’t think he saw me. I could be wrong, though.”
“How far along was his wife?” he asked.
“Not very. She wasn’t showing or anything, but the only reason I ever see a guy at a gynecology appointment is because his wife is expecting. They always look like they feel a little out of place,” she mused. “Seeing him and realizing he was in a relationship with my best friend made me curious if they were there for any other reason. So I started digging around in his inbox.”
“That’s illegal,” he quickly countered.
“Not if you work in the tech department and find an issue on a VP’s computer. I basically get free rein if he leaves his inbox up. Besides, I had to test his syste
m.” None of what she found would hold up in a court of law—even she realized that. But she was an employee doing her job. “Her pregnancy won’t be easy to hide for much longer. By the time Layla goes to trial, his wife will be showing. I’d bet money on it.”
“Still, any information you gained would be inadmissible.”
“True. But I’m not the one on trial here. That jerk is, and his secrets will come to light very soon if he did this to Layla,” she said.
“Who at work knows about me?” he asked.
“Are you asking who knows Layla’s brother works for the FBI? Or are you asking if people know she has a brother?”
“There a difference?”
“Yes. A big one, at that. People know she has a brother, but she doesn’t go around talking about what you do for a living. Mostly, in team-building sessions, people talk about their own career goals, life goals. I doubt anyone knows the down and dirty about your background,” she said. “Except her boss, of course, since you spoke to him first thing this morning.”
“Why didn’t she want me to come by her office?” His question surprised her. “Was she ashamed of me in some way?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing like that. If anything, she was too proud of you.” Raina looked him up and down. “It’s just that you’re...you.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell it out for me because I have no idea what that means.”
“Your looks attract a lot of attention. She didn’t want people gawking at you or fawning over you. She wanted to keep a professional image, plus...” This next part was just a guess but an educated one based on several years of friendship. “People who work for the government make our higher-ups a little nervous. No one ever says it outright but, come on, a federal investigation would cripple us and make investors run. So...”
“She was afraid my job would put hers at risk,” he said.
“Yes. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t proud of you. She practically burst with pride every time she talked to me about you.”
“Speaking of you... Layla mentioned your mother,” he said.
“My mom needs full-time care. I supply it.” Raina sank into the passenger seat. End of story.
A decent chunk of Raina’s salary went to the rehab center where her mother was currently living while relearning how to walk after a traumatic brain injury from a boating accident. What was left went to basics like rent, food and car payments. She was still paying off school loans, so there was that.
As Dash took the next hill descending toward downtown, there was a quick flash of light to her right followed by the words, “Get down.”
Chapter Ten
A crotch-rocket motorcycle zipped up behind Dash’s SUV. The shooter? “Keep your head down.”
He sank in the seat as low as he could while still able to see over the dash. Speeding down toward the water with gunfire coming from behind wasn’t exactly his favorite idea. Rather than continue down the steep incline, he took a hard left at the next intersection into oncoming traffic.
Horns blared as he navigated around the vehicles, with angry drivers flipping him the bird and waving fists at him. Crotch-rocket was still behind him. Low handlebars made for an aerodynamic ride. This bike wasn’t meant for lazy Sunday cruising. It was created for speed and gave the rider the ability to zip in and out of traffic. At a hundred miles an hour without a stabilizer, the handlebars would shake and the rider could lose control if he or she so much as nipped a rock in the road. But that wouldn’t be a problem on these streets, with their thirty-miles-per-hour speed limits and narrow roads.
Crotch-rocket roared up beside Dash. The rider’s face was hidden behind a helmet with a dark lens. He was male, based on his physique. Somewhere around average height and build. Lean underneath the black leather jacket he had on. He wore black jeans and boots. His boots had thick soles. He had on black gloves.
There was also a Sig Sauer in his right hand. He glanced over and extended his hand toward Dash’s face.
Dash hit the brake. Hard. So hard that his head jutted forward. Crotch-rocket zipped onto the curb and slowed his pace. Glancing in the rearview—out of habit more than anything else, considering he was on a one-way street—Dash put the gearshift in reverse and mashed the gas pedal.
Before the intersection, he slowed to a crawl. Crotch-rocket adjusted to the new plan and was racing toward Dash head-on. He had no choice but to go for it and pray no one was coming.
Fortune smiled on him when he backed up. He managed to position himself in the right lane, heading up the hill and away from downtown, without hitting anyone in the process. A Porsche came close but managed to zip around him. He thought about his sports car and wished he was in it for the same reason.
“Where is he?” Raina asked, lying low on the seat.
“Coming up on your side.” If Dash timed it just right, he could squeeze the motorbike against the row of parked cars coming up. He swerved toward the rider as a threat and to throw him off guard. Dash crossed over the middle of the road, netting another round of honks from oncoming traffic. At least they were driving slowly and had time to react. Nonlocal drivers always took their time going down the steep hills toward downtown. The inclines could be scary to newcomers.
The motorcycle zoomed up beside Dash’s vehicle. The biker turned his gun toward the passenger window. Dash wheeled right at the exact moment a reaction from the biker would cause him to crash into another vehicle.
He did and went flying. Using voice command, Dash called 9-1-1. “Tell the operator exactly what just happened. Ask for police and ambulance. Lock the door the second I’m out.”
Dash flew out of the driver’s seat as the line rang for the second time. He drew his weapon and pulled his badge from the clip on his holster. Using the SUV as a barrier between him and the shooter, he moved around the front of the vehicle. He crouched to the ground, searching for signs the rider was mobile.
Rule number one in law enforcement was never run to an injured man. The flip had been spectacular, and the biker should be lying on the concrete sidewalk. It was possible he rolled over the car he’d struck. The vehicle would have taken some of the impact from the crash.
There was no sign of the guy. Not good, Dash thought. Was it possible he’d landed on top of a vehicle? Or crashed so hard he broke the back windshield and ended up inside the car?
The motorcycle had flipped a couple of times uphill before momentum caught up. Then it skidded on its side to the street below. There were voices. Shouting. A scream. It all went down so fast Dash was still mentally processing.
He would have time to dissect his thoughts later. Now, he needed to find the biker. With measured steps, he inched closer to the initial spot of the crash. The sedan’s emergency sirens were splitting the air.
Car by car, he moved toward the sound, his weapon leading the way.
A trail of screams sent a cold shiver racing down his spine. Dash picked up the pace as safely as he could. He reached the car. Weapon extended, he came up on the side of the white sedan.
The point of impact on the back windshield had left it looking like a spiderweb. The center of the glass was dented. There was no sign of the biker. No way could he have taken a fall like that and survived without some heavy-duty equipment. There were button-down collared shirts that could take a bullet.
Dash was confused as to how someone could walk away from an accident like this, because there was no sign of the biker anywhere. Was there someone around to clean up the mess?
He walked down to the motorcycle and snapped a couple of pics. No license plate, but he wasn’t surprised.
More sirens joined the sedan’s. Dash checked on his SUV. Raina looked to be fine in there. Thankfully, she stayed put and was most likely in shock. He needed to get back to her but he waved down the first marked car he saw. Badge in hand, he returned his firearm to hi
s holster.
He surveyed the area. The few people had scattered. This area was residential on top of businesses. Employees started filing out onto the sidewalk, questions written all over their faces as they looked toward the sources of the noise. It was probably too much to hope someone had seen something that could be useful.
But then what would it have been? It was impossible to get a description of the biker. Dash glanced around at the mixed-use buildings. Did he have help? A network would make sense. It would explain how the guy seemed to have disappeared.
An officer pulled up next to the motorcycle just as Dash was thinking they might be able to get some DNA off the bike or the busted windshield. He needed to get back to check on Raina. For now, he put his hands in the air, badge in his right palm, as the officer opened his door and positioned himself in the crack with his service weapon directed at Dash.
“Hands where I can see ’em,” the officer demanded.
“My name is Dashiell West. I’m an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigations, behavioral science unit. I’m holding my badge in my right palm.” Dash kept his hands high in the air while awaiting permission to move.
The officer spoke into his radio and then waved Dash over. The two exchanged handshakes before Dash gave a rundown of the situation. The officer relayed information over the radio, and Dash explained his theory about the rider having help nearby.
Another officer arrived on the scene, and while he was being filled in, Dash ran over to the SUV to check on Raina.
“Hey. Are you hanging in there all right?” he asked as she rolled down the passenger window.
“I’ve been better. Nothing a good glass of wine won’t cure.” Her calm demeanor caught him off guard. But then, she was remarkable in more ways than one.
“You’ve earned it,” he said before reaching in and taking her hand in his. The connection sent more of those electrical currents racing through him. He ignored them.
“Any sign of him?” She stared down at his hand but didn’t jerk away this time.