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On The Edge

Page 12

by Rebecca Deel


  Grace tilted her head back and smiled. “That’s the second-best thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “It’s the truth.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and turned up the volume on the television. “Have you seen this movie before?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve heard of it, though.”

  “You’re in for a treat.” Although he’d have to watch the flick again with her at another time. Grace’s eyes were already growing heavy. She might last another fifteen minutes.

  At the ten-minute mark, Trent glanced down at the woman he needed more than his next breath and discovered she was sound asleep. Excellent. Hopefully, she would sleep through what remained of the night.

  He waited another thirty minutes before sliding one arm beneath Grace’s knees, the other braced against her back. He carried her into the bedroom she and Nicole shared. Nicole had poked her head out of the room just after Grace had fallen asleep and motioned for him to bring Grace to the room whenever he was ready, that she was going to sleep herself.

  Nicole had left the bathroom light on with the door partially closed, allowing Trent to see she had pulled back the covers of Grace’s bed. He lowered Grace to the mattress, pulled the sheet and comforter up to her chin, and left.

  Three hours later, a heavy pounding on the suite door woke him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Grace paused while tying her tennis shoes. Who was knocking on their door at five in the morning? She winced. Horrible hour. The overnight shift at the hospital was her least favorite though she’d pulled her share of them.

  Tomorrow’s shift at the hospital would be rough. If she was allowed to return home. The way things were going, Grace wasn’t sure Barton and Weston would let them go home. But they couldn’t hold her and the others in Dumas indefinitely. The detectives might not solve the crime at all. What would happen then?

  Grace didn’t want a cloud of suspicion following her the rest of her life. Worse, Mason didn’t deserve another black mark on his record with an unfounded accusation.

  And Trent? Nausea swirled in the pit of her stomach. Surely Brent Maddox wouldn’t believe his operative guilty of murder. Trent was a protector to his bones.

  A rumble of male voices drifted through the closed bedroom door. Grace recognized Trent’s voice. Who was the other man? His voice was too muffled to figure out his identity.

  She finished tying her shoes and sat up as Nic opened the bathroom door, fully dressed, brushing her hair. “Did I hear someone knock?”

  “Someone is talking to Trent, but I can’t make out who it is.”

  Her sister tossed her hairbrush into her bag. “We should find out what’s going on. Anybody beating on the door this early in the morning isn’t bringing good news.”

  That’s what Grace was afraid of. She hoped the bad news wasn’t about Devin. “Let’s go. Whoever is here sounds like he’s making Trent angry.” Difficult to do and unwise. It took a lot to make her boyfriend angry. This guy had managed to accomplish that feat in less than a minute.

  The sisters walked into the living room and pulled up short when they saw Barton and Weston glaring at Trent who scowled back at them. At their entrance, the men turned to face Grace and Nicole.

  “Good morning, baby.” Trent left the two cops standing in the entranceway and wrapped Grace in a strong embrace. “How are you this morning, Nicole?”

  “Grumpy, thank you. What’s going on?” Nicole asked. “Kind of early for the Dynamic Duo to knock on our door.”

  “Mrs. Bowen is missing,” Detective Weston said.

  Grace frowned. Did she leave Devin at the hospital alone? The woman had acted so concerned for her husband’s welfare. Why would she leave knowing his life hung in the balance? Maybe Ron convinced her to go home to rest and something happened to her en route.

  If the patient was Trent, Grace wouldn’t leave his bedside. “Maybe Clarice needed to rest.”

  “She went to her car to retrieve her cell phone and never came back,” Barton said. “The car’s still there. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Blondie?”

  She blinked. Blondie?

  Trent growled. “I told you to knock that off. Her name is Grace.”

  “I’d think a murderer would have thick skin.”

  Her boyfriend’s body hardened as his muscles tightened. Grace hugged him tighter. He couldn’t lose his temper. They were pushing, hoping for a reason to toss Trent in jail. Assaulting an officer would definitely accomplish that. But that action would also leave her and Nic vulnerable to attack. Mason would protect them with every skill he had, but he wasn’t combat trained like Trent.

  Whoever was after them had proved himself willing to harm them. Grace and Nicole needed Trent out of jail. The detectives didn’t have the right to sling mud at the SEAL. “Trent isn’t a murderer.”

  Barton gave a short bark of laughter. “You’re an idiot if you believe that. Your man is a stone-cold killer, sweetheart. However, I was referring to you being a murderer. Got to have no heart to poison a man for a few lousy bucks.”

  Someone believed the Bowen estate was worth killing for, but it wasn’t her. This time, Grace was the one fighting her temper. “How many times do I have to tell you I had nothing to do with Devin being ill?”

  “You can tell me the same lies until you’re blue in the face, lady. You’re guilty and we’ll find evidence to put you away. If we’re lucky enough, we’ll build a strong enough case for the death penalty.”

  “Enough,” Trent snapped. “Why are you here besides being the bearers of bad news?”

  “You don’t care that Mrs. Bowen is missing?” Weston’s keen gaze focused on the SEAL. “Or maybe you’re not surprised. Where have you been since you left the police station earlier, St. Claire?”

  “In this suite except for a short trip to a fast food place two miles from here.” He told the detectives the name of the restaurant and the approximate time he’d left the hotel and returned.

  “Any of your friends ride with you?” Weston asked.

  He shook his head. “The drive-thru had surveillance cameras. The hotel has cameras pointed at the passenger drop-off and in the hotel lobby and elevators. You’ll be able to confirm my whereabouts. I would have to imitate a race car driver to pull off kidnapping Mrs. Bowen, hiding her somewhere or dumping her body, buying food, and coming back here in the time frame I gave you.” A cold smile curved his lips. “I’m good, Detective, but not that good.”

  The cop grunted. “What about the rest of you? I want a detailed account of your movements in the past four hours.”

  Grace and Nicole reported their movements. By the time they finished their statements, Mason walked from the second bedroom. He stopped at the sight of the detectives.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Is Devin all right?”

  Nicole greeted him with a quick kiss and wrapped one arm around his waist. “Clarice is missing and the Keystone Cops think we might be to blame.”

  “Where did you go after leaving the police station, Kincaid?” Barton folded his arms across his chest.

  “Here. I didn’t leave the suite except to buy drinks from the vending machine on this floor. Trent was with me.”

  “Got any proof of that?”

  A bitter smile curved Mason’s lips. “Just my word and that of my friends.”

  “We all know what your word is worth.”

  “A lot more than yours, Barton,” Nicole snapped.

  “That’s enough.” Weston stared hard at the four of them. “If you had anything to do with Mrs. Bowen’s disappearance, we’ll find the proof and nail you to the wall.”

  Trent shrugged. “You won’t find evidence because there isn’t any. Now, if that’s all, Detectives, we have plans today.”

  Grace fought to keep her expression neutral. She didn’t remember any plans in the works unless he meant seeing Simon Randall about the paperwork to sign. With Devin’s illness and the interrogation, they had forgotten about the
signatures.

  The detectives exchanged skeptical glances. “At this hour?” Weston asked.

  “You’re the ones who barged in here before the sun rose.”

  “Don’t leave town until we give you permission.” With that parting shot, the two men strode out, slamming the door behind them.

  “I don’t like those two,” Nicole said with a scowl.

  “They don’t like us, either.” Grace turned to Trent. “What plans do we have?”

  “Bear should be here in the next few minutes to replace my window.”

  “Wait a minute.” Mason looked puzzled. “Your windows were fine a few hours ago. What happened?”

  Trent summarized the sequence of events after he purchased the early morning meal.

  “Did you see who it was?” He held up his hand. “Never mind. If you had seen the shooter, he’d be occupying a jail cell or a metal slab in the morgue. Someone has made a run at the three of you. I guess I should assume I might be next.”

  “Not if we find him first.” Trent pressed a kiss to Grace’s forehead. “Hopefully, Randall has your paperwork finished so you can take care of that today.”

  “But the detectives said for us not to leave town.” Nicole didn’t look happy about that prospect.

  Grace noted the worry in her sister’s eyes. “Nic, is everything all right?”

  “Not even close. My boss hates me and is looking for an excuse to fire me. This might give him the opportunity he’s been waiting for. If I don’t return to work tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll have a job to go back to.”

  #

  “I need to call the hospital and tell my supervisor I can’t work my shift tomorrow night.” Grace scowled. “I hate to call her. We’ve had several nurses out with the flu recently.”

  At least she wouldn’t lose her job, Nicole thought. Unlike her, Grace’s job was secure. Nurses were in short supply while marketing people were plentiful, the job market competitive. She hadn’t been exaggerating. Chances were high Sullivan would use this as an excuse to hire someone who agreed that his every thought and marketing idea was a golden moneymaker. Nicole wasn’t that person, much to her boss’s displeasure. If the idea was lame, she didn’t hesitate to voice her opinion.

  “I should do the same.” She flashed a weak smile. “Wish me luck.” Not wanting the others to hear her boss lay into her, Nicole unlocked the French doors and walked onto the balcony.

  Shivering in the cold morning air, she called Sullivan. She felt bad about calling him this time of morning. Well, she felt bad for about one second. He’d called her often enough over the past two years before five. Time to return the favor.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Sullivan’s growl greeted her.

  “Sorry to call so early.” Not really, but if she was civil, Nicole might keep her job a little longer. Thoughts of the money from her birth mother surfaced. She shoved them aside. Until the money was in her account, she wouldn’t count on it. Things happened. “I can’t return to work tomorrow.”

  “Why not?”

  Not eager to admit she was suspected of murder, she said, “It’s complicated.”

  An exasperated sigh came through the speaker. “Copeland, it’s always complicated with you. I’m tired of your drama. You’ve got one more day. The only excuse for not showing up then is you’re dead or dying. Got that?”

  Her cheeks burned. Seriously? She wasn’t the dramatic sort and only missed work for scheduled vacations. Last fall, she’d come down with a virus, but stumbled into work anyway because they had a high-dollar campaign due that morning. “Yes, sir.” The jerk ended the call without replying.

  Shoving the phone into her pocket, Nicole leaned against the balcony rail, the cold air feeling good against her burning cheeks. She was tired of Braxton Marketing and Sullivan, the worst boss on the planet.

  She faced the fact it was time to start searching for another job. She didn’t have enough savings to last for long. Hopefully, it would be enough to land something else.

  The door opened behind her, closed again. “Everything okay?”

  Mason’s deep voice soothed her raw emotions. Why that was she didn’t know. He was a virtual stranger. A hot one, she admitted to herself. Nicole shook her head in answer to his question.

  “What happened?”

  “What I expected. If I don’t return to work the day after tomorrow, I won’t have a job.” Her stomach lurched at the thought.

  “I’m sorry, Nicole.” His hard hand brushed against her lower back.

  “My friends call me Nic.”

  Mason shook his head. “Your name is as beautiful as you are.”

  Nicole found herself charmed by his soft, heartfelt words. “Thank you.” The detectives and their ugly suspicions doused the feelings Mason engendered. “Since we’re supposed to be a couple, we should at least know the basics about each other. You start.”

  He remained silent for a couple minutes.

  “Mason?”

  Finally, he sighed. “Tell the cops I’m a jerk and you dumped me. You should stay away from me.” Mason’s gaze remained fixed on the city vista in front of him.

  Nicole’s heart sank. Did he not like her personality? Was she not pretty enough for him? “Why?”

  “I’m tainted, Nicole. People will always look at me and see ex-convict flashing in LED lights over my head.” His grip on the railing was so tight Nicole could see the whites of his knuckles.

  “Knock it off, Mason.”

  A narrow-eyed glance her direction. “It’s the truth. The cops would love to hang this on me. If you’re associated with me, they’ll assume you’re part of the crime. Trust me when I say you don’t want them looking at you like that.”

  “Let them look.” She stepped closer, moving into his personal space. “They won’t find anything. I won’t turn away from you or run because I’m uncomfortable. What kind of woman would that make me if I did?”

  “A smart one.”

  “A weak one,” she countered. “I’m not walking away, Mason.” Nicole shifted so closer her mouth brushed his as she spoke her next words. “Deal with it.” Then she kissed him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Trent clapped Bear on the shoulder. “I appreciate the curbside service.” His voice echoed in the concrete and steel garage. This early, none of the hotel guests were stirring, giving him the opportunity to talk to the car tech without an audience.

  The six foot eight Army grunt eyed him, his expression sober. “Your woman’s safety is at risk. I hope someone does the same for mine if I can’t take care of her.”

  He stilled. “You have a special lady in your life?”

  A scowl from the mountain-sized man. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Right. “You never talk about her.”

  Bear grunted. “Security. The less common knowledge about Nina is out there, the better I like it. We have enemies. I take safety precautions wherever my wife and my kids might be. No one is going to hurt my family.” His gaze frosted at the prospect of an attempt.

  He’d hate to be on Bear’s bad side. The Fortress tech had the thousand-yard stare down to a science. “The bunker?”

  A nod.

  So it was true. Trent heard from other operatives the car guru had a bunker beneath his warehouse completely stocked with food, water, and weapons to hold off a siege for a month, a haven for his family, his employees, and their families. That included multiple escape tunnels leading away from the structure once it was safe to evacuate.

  Bear’s place didn’t look like much from the outside, a run-down warehouse just this side of falling apart from appearance. Inside housed top-flight equipment and the best weapons and ammunition cache outside of Fortress headquarters. With Bear’s ingenuity, Trent figured the man had surprises ready for anyone who attempted to breach the bunker’s security, none of them pleasant.

  “What do I owe you?”

  Bear waved his hand. “Maddox took care of it.” A smile curved his lips. “You met hi
s little girl yet?”

  Should have figured Maddox would sign off on the repairs. The boss had his hands on every part of his company. “Alexa is a little charmer.” And she had her adoptive father wrapped around her finger. Of course, no one dared share that opinion with Maddox. The man was a Navy SEAL, after all.

  “The boss will have his hands full when she is a teenager.”

  Trent chuckled. “I can’t wait until her first date shows up.”

  “I bet Maddox answers the door in full combat gear, complete with his MP-5 in hand.” Laughter from the two men filled the cavernous space of the garage. “Tell your Grace her SUV is ready. Text me when you’re arriving so I can have it detailed. I look forward to meeting the woman who tamed the frog boy.”

  His eyebrow rose. Bear was detailing Grace’s SUV? “Why don’t I get that service from your shop?”

  A snort. “Detail your own ride. Women appreciate the service and they don’t treat my vehicles as though they are rolling garbage cans, unlike some of the operatives.”

  “Hey, don’t look at me. My mother trained me well.” She hated trash left in their family vehicles. The bittersweet memory made Trent wish she was still alive to tease with a wrapper or two in the floorboard. He and Darcy had been on their own for several years. The ache left by their parents’ passing still caught him by surprise some days.

  Bear stepped back. “I need to go. Got another window to replace two hours from here. Watch your back, St. Claire. Something ugly is circling your woman.”

  He waited until the burly car tech with arms as thick as steel beams left before he turned toward the elevator. Bear was right. A snake hid in the grass, waiting to strike when Trent least expected the blow. He couldn’t afford to mess up. Too many lives were at stake, not the least of which was Grace’s.

  Once again, he considered calling in reinforcements. Mason was a good man to have at his back, but he couldn’t have a weapon on him because he was a convicted felon. On the other hand, he didn’t want Mason to think Trent didn’t trust him.

 

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