Dangerous Witness

by Katie Reus

  “What? And this is the first I’m hearing of it!” The words were more a shouted statement as opposed to a question. “Wait, you were working though.”

  Darcy winced. “Okay, let’s take it down about ten notches. And yes, I was working. He stopped by and…” She winced again, internally this time, because she knew what was coming. “Don’t freak out, but I was almost mugged. I was taking some stuff out to the trash when this random guy with a knife demanded all my money. Brooks had stopped by to apologize about what he said to me. I found out later that was why he’d come by, but anyway, he stopped the mugging. The police were called and it was a whole big thing.”

  Her sister stared at her in pure shock. “How did you keep this from me for two whole days?”

  Peter chose that moment to join them, passing a mug of coffee to her sister, fixed just the way she liked it. Darcy really did like him. He treated her sister like a princess. Then he handed the other mug to Darcy. Because that was just the kind of guy he was. Thoughtful of everyone. She was so happy for her sister. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Oh nothing.” Emma’s tone was slightly sarcastic. “Just that Darcy was almost mugged on New Year’s Eve. And her ex-boyfriend showed up and saved her. The freaking police were called and everything. Oh my God, obviously you’re okay, right? Did the man hurt you?” Emma looked her up and down as if checking for hidden wounds.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just didn’t want to bother you with this. You’ve had so much on your plate lately.”

  “For the record, you can always bother me with anything. And it’s not a bother anyway.” Emma looked dangerously close to tears, which made Darcy feel shitty.

  She was the big sister, used to looking out for Emma. Still, she should have told her.

  Even Peter frowned at her. “Darcy, come on, that’s serious. You should have told us.”

  “Okay, you guys are right. But everything turned out okay. I guess the guy was out on probation and he very clearly broke it, so he’s going back to jail. I don’t have to testify or anything.”

  “So…Brooks apologized?” Emma asked after a long moment. Her sister had adored Brooks. She’d been just as shocked as Darcy when he’d assumed the worst of Darcy.

  “Yes. And he wants to have coffee and talk more.” That definitely wasn’t happening.

  “When are you meeting him?” Emma took a sip of her coffee and sighed in appreciation.

  “Ah, I’m not. There’s nothing to say.”

  “Darcy—”

  “Come on, Em.” Peter shook his head. “Let it go. Should I tell your sister why we’re here?” His tone was resigned.

  And when Emma’s expression mirrored his, Darcy had a feeling she knew exactly what her sister was going to say even before she said it. Okay, maybe not exactly, but Peter’s father had likely changed the guest list or decided he wanted to use a new caterer—again—or come up with something else insane for her to do. Maybe he’d decided that he wanted a peacock as a ring bearer. It was the weirdest thing: Peter’s father seemed to have more interest in this wedding than either Peter or Emma. The two of them would have eloped if it was up to them, but apparently his father wanted a whole big thing, complete with people invited who neither Peter nor Emma even knew.

  “Well…Peter’s dad wants to move the rehearsal dinner to his estate. Instead of using Eat Pray Love as the venue, we want them to cater instead. Since they’re already catering for the big day…” Emma lifted her shoulders.

  Which meant Darcy needed to call and smooth things over with the owner, Mr. Singh, tell them they’d be catering the rehearsal dinner as well as the wedding, and figure out all the new logistics. “I’m surprised you came to tell me in person,” she said dryly.

  Emma laughed. “I thought about texting you, but Peter of course is the voice of reason.”

  “I really am sorry about my dad.” He shook his head. “I think he’s so used to micromanaging every aspect of his businesses that he’s taken to treating this as a business deal or something.”

  “It’s okay, trust me. I’ll make sure this is taken care of.” And Peter’s dad, who was footing the bill for the wedding, would simply pay for the changes. Even if it was a pain in the butt to deal with, everyone would still be paid accordingly.

  And hey, dealing with all of this wedding insanity kept her mind off Brooks. Sort of. Because for the past two days, the man had consumed her mind. She’d tried desperately to shut him out, but when she was home alone at night—or in the shower—he invaded her mind. The handsome jackass.

  * * *

  Brooks looked over at the door as Savage and Olivia stepped inside the conference room where he was reading over some files Gage had sent him. He was surprised to see Olivia with Savage. He knew she didn’t have any contracts right now. She worked for a boutique security firm, breaking into places that had hired them and demonstrating all of their weaknesses. She’d taken a break for the next two months as she got Valencia settled in Redemption Harbor, found a new place to live, and planned a wedding. Regardless, she didn’t work here, and rarely stopped by.

  He shoved back his chair and stood, stretching his legs. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

  “We just met your ex-girlfriend,” Olivia said, plopping down into one of the swivel chairs.

  He flicked a glance at Savage. Of course his best friend would have told Olivia about Darcy.

  Savage simply shrugged. “She’s nice.”

  “She’s adorable,” Olivia said. “Seriously, how on earth did you screw things up with her?”

  “I didn’t tell her all the details,” Savage murmured, taking a seat next to her.

  “Who’s adorable?” Skye asked as she stepped into the room, a Hot Pocket in her hand. That woman was always eating.

  “Brooks’s ex-girlfriend. She’s going to be our new wedding planner,” Olivia supplied helpfully.

  “Ex-girlfriend? This is the first I’ve heard of you dating anyone.” Skye sat directly on the table as opposed to one of the chairs and crossed her legs as she munched on her food. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a tight braid and she looked like she normally did, ready to kick someone’s ass.

  “She’s as cute as a button. I want to put her in my pocket and carry her around,” Olivia continued.

  “Coming from you—someone also as cute as a button—I’ve gotta see this woman.” Skye took another bite of her food. “Why’d you guys break up?”

  “Oh my God, this is why I don’t tell you people anything,” Brooks muttered. Then he glared at Savage, who’d told Olivia about Brooks’s past with Darcy in the first place. “You got anything to say?”

  Savage just stretched back in his seat, sliding his hands behind his head. “Not about that. But Darcy’s sister is engaged to Peter Markov—son of Semyon Markov.”

  Brooks paused, watching his friend carefully for a moment. Savage wouldn’t joke about something like that anyway. Still… “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We met them as we were leaving her shop this morning. ‘Them’ being Emma and Peter.”

  That was beyond interesting. During their Miami job, the one in which they’d saved Olivia’s ass from blackmail—though she’d done a lot of the heavy lifting herself—they’d discovered a flash drive with a lot of information on various criminals worldwide. Anything with concrete proof of crimes they’d anonymously turned over to the FBI and DEA. But there had been more than a few files they’d kept for themselves. Basically as a backup should they ever end up in hot water with a government agency. Because there were far too many government officials in those files. Semyon Markov didn’t work for the government—but he had contacts with men and women at various agencies, and he’d allegedly done some deals with a man named Alexei Kuznetsov.

  The file on Markov had been new, because the now-dead man who’d started it had been in the data-gathering stages. It was unclear what he thought he might find, but clear enough that Markov was involved in some dirty shit. Drugs, skin trade, the kind of
stuff Brooks and his people would shut down. And his loose link to Kuznetsov—a criminal they planned to bring down—was enough that their crew would be looking into Markov.

  Knowing that Darcy might soon be related to the man had Brooks tensing. He’d always been protective of her and now was no different. Maybe even worse. Because he had no right to feel possessive, protective. Well, he was going to look out for her whether she liked it or not.

  “Have you gone to Gage yet?” Brooks asked. Gage was a hacker, to put it mildly. He’d been headhunted by some of the most prolific tech companies in the country. And most of the government agencies.

  Savage shook his head. “Not yet. He’s in his office working on something. I just wanted to let you know first. Do you know how long Darcy’s sister has been with Peter?”

  “I knew she was dating someone when I was with Darcy, but I never met the guy.” Brooks and Darcy had been so wrapped up in each other all those months ago. All their spare time had been just the two of them. He hadn’t been interested in double-dating or any of that shit. Thankfully neither had Darcy. “I knew his name was Peter. His last name was never brought up. Not that it would have registered back then.” They hadn’t started their consulting business yet and hadn’t known about that blackmail file. Savage had still been doing contract work for the CIA, Colt had been working directly for the CIA, Gage had been in Seattle working for a big firm, and Brooks hadn’t even known Skye back then—hell, a lot had changed in the last seven months.

  “So you guys broke up when?” Savage asked, a slight bite to his words.

  Probably because Brooks hadn’t told him about Darcy until after they’d broken up. “Right before Colt headed off to Mexico.” To save their friend Mary Grace, who’d been kidnapped by a Mexican cartel but was presumed dead by the rest of the world. Oh yeah, life had been a roller coaster the past year.

  “Okay, so roughly seven months ago. And if they were together while you were with Darcy, that puts Emma and Peter together at least eleven months.”

  “Yeah, so?” Brooks wasn’t sure where Savage was going with this.

  “I’m just thinking out loud… And I’m guessing that Darcy has access to the Markov mansion.” Savage frowned, looking off into space for a moment.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, stop right there. She won’t even talk to me. And even if she was talking to me, I sure as hell wouldn’t ask her to go into his house on a recon mission. She’s a wedding planner.” He would never put her in danger.

  Olivia frowned at Savage, clearly shocked he would suggest something like that.

  Savage raised his hands, palms up. “I know! I wasn’t suggesting that. I’m just thinking out loud, I swear. We’ve been gathering intel on the guy, and I haven’t seen anything in Gage’s file about Markov’s son or said son’s fiancée. But if Emma Cooper is marrying him, there’s a good chance that she and Darcy will end up as notes, at least, in some government file. Because if the FBI doesn’t have Markov in their sights yet—”

  “They will soon enough.” Brooks settled down, leaning against the table now. Anyone remotely connected to the Markovs could become targets for the government as well. He didn’t like that at all.

  “While this is all very interesting,” Skye said, wiping her hands off on the napkin her Hot Pocket had been wrapped in, “I came in here to let you guys know that Colt and I got a job in Oregon. A quickie. One we’ll be able to actually put on the books.”

  “When do you guys head out?” Brooks asked, glad to not be talking about Darcy anymore. He was already twisted up over her to the point of distraction. He’d called her and texted her to check in on her after New Year’s, but he’d gotten radio silence.

  “Tonight. Colt’s at home packing.”

  “You let him pack for you?” Olivia’s tone was dubious.

  “Hell yeah. He packs better than I do. And as long as he doesn’t forget our weapons, I’m good.”

  Brooks leaned back as they continued talking, trying not to think about Darcy. And failing. Seeing her two days ago in person had shaken him to his core. How many times had he wished he could go back in time and pull his head out of his ass?

  What the hell had he been thinking? How had he even thought she would have taken that money? Unfortunately, he knew the answer to that. She wouldn’t have been the first woman to. He shelved that thought. Because there were more important things to think about. Now that he knew she had a loose tie to the Markov family, he couldn’t ignore that.

  He narrowed his gaze at Savage, who was watching Olivia with complete adoration as she talked to Skye. Brooks knew his friend would do anything for Olivia.

  Something he could understand. It didn’t matter that Darcy wasn’t his anymore. Now that he knew she was soon going to be linked to the Markov family, he wasn’t sure what to do. There was no way he could tell Darcy what they knew about Semyon Markov either. Not now. She had no trust in Brooks, and for all he knew, even if he did tell her, she would go right back to her sister—who could tell Peter Markov. And they had no idea if Peter was involved with his father.

  If he was, then Emma Cooper could be marrying into a criminal empire. And Darcy would be related to them. There wasn’t much he could do about that now, but he would certainly be digging deeper into the Markov family.

  Chapter 5

  —Today sucks.—

  Darcy dropped her purse onto the center island of Semyon Markov’s kitchen. Peter’s father was a little intimidating but he’d always been welcoming to her and her sister. He’d told Darcy more than once that he wished he had another son for her to marry. Because she was such a “good girl.”

  She nearly snorted at the thought. He was definitely an old-school type of man. She couldn’t say for certain but he seemed to view women in certain ways: good girls or not-good girls. It was so archaic and yes, insulting, but she took it with a grain of salt. Besides, he wasn’t her father-in-law to-be. She figured after this wedding, she’d only see him a couple times a year. Maybe at some holidays.

  Opening her purse, she pulled out her folder for the Markov-Cooper wedding. After going over a few things, she took out the catering menu from the restaurant they were originally supposed to have their rehearsal dinner at. The menu was slightly different than the one at the restaurant, something Mr. Markov likely hadn’t thought of. No, he just liked to make decisions and expected things to happen his way. It was a pattern she’d seen with extremely wealthy people, and while she tried not to judge, oh sweet Lord, it was annoying.

  Mr. Markov had told her that he’d be here at seven and normally he was very prompt—often early. Which was why she’d arrived at six thirty.

  She pulled a water bottle from the refrigerator and took a sip. When she’d first started planning this wedding, it had felt weird being here on her own. But in the last few months, she’d been here so often to meet with him about changed details that she almost felt at home. Not completely. This place was huge and beautiful. Not the kind of place she ever saw herself living in. But he’d insisted that she feel at home here. That any food or drinks she wanted while she was here were hers. So it only felt a little weird taking water from his refrigerator.

  When she heard the sound of male voices, she set her water bottle down on the counter and headed in that direction. She’d been waved in by security at the front gate so Mr. Markov would likely know she was here. But she hadn’t wanted to wait in his office.

  Her ballerina flats were quiet against the tile, then the wood floors as she made her way down different hallways. Traditional, kind of stuffy art hung on the walls. Mostly boring scenes from nature. Some by artists she very clearly recognized. But she didn’t think they were originals. Who knew, though.

  As she neared his office door, she saw that it was partially open. She wondered if she should knock or just text him instead to let him know she was here.

  “For the second time, you shouldn’t even be here. You know that Semyon doesn’t like you here, detective,” the male voi
ce snarled. Ice crystallized in her veins when she heard the sound of Oleg Polzin’s voice inside the office.

  The man was in his thirties, handsome enough, but there was something in his eyes that set her on edge. He worked closely with Mr. Markov when he was in town, but thankfully he seemed to travel a lot. She wasn’t sure what he did, but she was sure that she shouldn’t be in a room alone with him. He’d never looked at her sister the way he looked at her—as if he was imagining her naked and under his control. Ugh. Even so, she’d mentioned her feelings to Emma.

  And to her surprise, Emma said she felt the same way about him. She said that Peter had told her never to be alone with him. That in itself was scary. It also made her question why Mr. Markov worked with him. But that was none of her business. And as soon as this wedding was over, she hoped to never see Polzin again. Or at least only once or twice a year. And always with someone else around. He was the only reason she hated that her sister was marrying into the Markov family, and she kept secretly hoping Mr. Markov would fire him.

  She paused, wondering if she should even knock now. At the sound of another voice, she took a step back. It was one she vaguely recognized but it wasn’t Mr. Markov.

  Stanton Turner. A detective she’d met the other night. He’d stopped by to talk to Detective Hernandez after the mugging. They hadn’t spoken directly, but his voice was raspy and distinctive. He’d had a runny nose so she’d assumed he was sick. Maybe she should just wait in the kitchen after all. Neither of them could help her, and she didn’t want to talk to Polzin anyway.

  “Well too bad. He hasn’t returned my calls,” the detective snarled. “And we’re a week away from…finishing it.”

  It? Darcy paused, feeling a little bad for eavesdropping.

  “Are you getting cold feet?” Once again, ice dripped from Polzin’s voice. The man was like a snake, slithering around.

  Shivers rolled through her at his tone. She’d never heard him talk like that before. The way he’d looked at her, as if he was always undressing her with his eyes, put her on edge. If he’d ever spoken this way, she probably would have run in the other direction.