Dangerous Witness

by Katie Reus

  His head tilted to the side ever so slightly, his confusion clear. His dark hair was a little longer than it had been when they’d been together. Nothing else about him had changed. His dimple wasn’t visible now. No, she only got to see that when he smiled. And it was annoyingly sexy and adorable at the same time.

  Gah, she wanted to punch him for that damn dimple. It was what had sucked her in in the first place. He’d smiled at her and she’d absolutely melted. It had been at the drugstore, of all ridiculous places. He’d been picking up a prescription for one of the men he worked with and she’d been getting chocolate because she’d had a craving. He’d started talking to her in the checkout line, smiled that smile, and she’d been a goner. He’d asked her for coffee right then and there—and she’d said yes. She’d had no clue who he was. Even when she’d learned his full name, she’d never put two and two together, that he was a billionaire’s son. Was a billionaire himself.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “When we were together, I used to let you off the hook whenever you shut down. Now you show up out of the blue, bringing me dinner and you’re being all sweet. Then you start to open up and just when it’s getting interesting, you shut down. No. Keep going.”

  She didn’t care if he’d come by tonight to do a sweep of her house for listening devices or whatever might be planted here, she was going to take advantage of having him as a captive audience. It didn’t matter that she tried to tell herself she didn’t want to see him anymore—it was such garbage. She’d never gotten any closure after they broke up. And the word closure was kind of stupid when it came to relationships, but there it was.

  “You were blindsided and…what?” she pressed.

  “That was it. I was blindsided and reacted poorly.” His words were clipped.

  So that was how it was going to be. Rolling her eyes, she stood and picked up her plate. She wasn’t going to push him for any other sort of conversation or emotional clarity. As she reached the sink, without turning around, she said, “If you’re referring to reacting poorly to me, I wouldn’t exactly put it like that. You reacted like a jackass.”

  He let out a short curse and the chair moved against the tile. A few seconds later he was at her side. She set the plate in the sink and turned to face him—and was suddenly very aware of how close they were. He was tall—well over six feet—and she was pretty average in height. Tonight, she just had on thick, comfortable socks because it was freezing out. It put her at a disadvantage in the height department. But she placed her hands on her hips and stared up at him.

  He stared down at her, his dark eyes pleading. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it until you forgive me.”

  She watched him for a long moment, a swell of emotions ricocheting through her. “I do forgive you, Brooks. It’s not even what you said to me, though that really hurt. It’s the fact that you actually believed I would take the money. I simply can’t understand that. I thought you knew me, saw the real me. Instead you lumped me in with someone like your ex.”

  His dark eyes filled with the pain mirrored inside her. She resisted the urge to reach out and comfort him. Barely. It was hard, because even if she wanted to deny it, she still cared about him.

  Finally, he spoke. “Can we at least try to be friends? I miss you.”

  Okay, she hadn’t been expecting that. It was childish or just plain stupid that she was disappointed that he wasn’t fighting harder to win her back. But that was what she wanted, right? Saying no to his request felt too bitchy, and the truth was she missed him as well. They’d had a lot of fun together. “Only if you’re the type of friend who lets me go horseback riding for free at his ranch,” she said lightly, trying to ease the tension between them.

  He seemed surprised by her answer but then his mouth curved up and that stupidly sexy dimple was back. Damn, she missed that dimple. “Anytime you want.”

  Looking up at him, she thought about how easy it would be to lean up on tiptoe, close the distance between them, and ravage his mouth. Because that would be smart. He would let her, too, and would take over in an instant. He’d always been like that, all dominating and possessive. And she’d loved it. Even thinking about the way he’d taken charge with her in the past, simply had to have her sometimes, not caring if they might get caught, sent a rush of heat between her legs.

  He would have her pinned up against the counter or her fridge or any flat surface in record time. She could read it in the tense lines of his body and see how much he still wanted her in those dark eyes. But making an ill-advised decision because of simple lust would be stupid. Her own mother had married a man she’d fallen madly, desperately in love with, only to be tossed over for someone shinier when Darcy and Emma were young. She wouldn’t lump Brooks in the same category as her father, but…they didn’t need to do something they’d only regret. It would just cause more heartache down the road.

  She could forgive him, but she wasn’t going to let him back into her life. Not as more than friends, anyway.

  Clearing her throat, she looked away and slid to the side, needing some distance between them. As she moved, he moved with her until her back was up against the counter.

  Oh so slowly, he placed his hands on either side of her, his gaze pinned to hers. He stared at her as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered. And she was only human. She melted inside, damn him.

  Though she tried not to, she inhaled deeply and was consumed with the earthy, spicy scent of him. He smelled like the outdoors. All raw masculinity and sex she wanted to roll around in. If someone could bottle that scent, they’d make a fortune. More heat rushed between her legs and she cursed her physical reaction. Being this close to him when he was looking at her as if he could devour her, well, it was no wonder she was getting turned on. It took all her restraint not to reach for him, bury her face against his chest and simply inhale.

  For a long moment, she couldn’t even breathe—wouldn’t let herself. They just watched each other and she wondered what the hell was going on in his head.

  When he shifted slightly and finally stepped back, she blinked as if coming out of a haze. He held up a card for her and it took way too long for her fuzzy brain to emerge from the “fog of Brooks” to read it.

  I need a reason to be here so I can scan the rest of your place.

  Wow, he’d really come prepared. She nodded, disappointed that the intense moment between them was over, while simultaneously relieved she’d be getting space from him.

  “I’m having an issue with my plumbing. Do you mind if I take a shower here before I leave?” he asked.

  As excuses went, it was kind of lame. If someone listening knew who Brooks was, it was pretty doubtful that one of the five or six or however many bathrooms he had at his place weren’t working. There were a few more believable scenarios for him to be here as a friend, but since he’d gone in that direction, she said, “Of course. You know where everything is.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth for a long moment. “I do.” Something about the way he said that made her wonder if he was remembering the many times they’d been naked together in her shower.

  Because she certainly was. It was hard to forget the sensation of being pinned up against the slick tiles as he thrust into her over and over, his thick length as he stretched her… No. No, no, no. She turned away from him and started cleaning up the kitchen, definitely needing distance from him now.

  Luckily he didn’t say anything else, just hurried upstairs with that wand. She figured he’d start the shower and start scanning each room while the water ran. Luckily her place was small so it shouldn’t take him too long.

  When her cell phone pinged that she had a text, she glanced at the screen. It was a message from her sister, wanting to know what she was doing tonight. She thought about telling Emma that Brooks was here, but knew that would open up a conversation she didn’t want to have.

  Especially since she couldn�
��t tell her sister why Brooks was really here. And at that reminder, ice crept through her veins. She really hoped he didn’t find anything in her place. Even if he didn’t, she was still worried. Darcy knew that Brooks and his friends were working on figuring out what Markov, Polzin and that detective might be up to, but it didn’t ease her fear much. She wanted to be doing more, but wasn’t sure what that might be. And she hated that she couldn’t tell her sister anything. But that wasn’t an option.

  When she heard the shower start upstairs, a sudden thought of Brooks naked with water running down his hard, bare pecs and thick, muscular legs made her jolt slightly. It wasn’t as if he was actually upstairs naked. But her imagination was running away with her. She shook herself. There was no time for that nonsense. They were just friends now. Even thinking that felt sad and wrong. She wasn’t sure she could ever be just friends with him. No, she’d probably always want more. Which made her a fool for even contemplating his whole “let’s be friends” thing.

  When her phone pinged again, a vendor this time, she locked up thoughts of Brooks and responded. She was simply going to have to deal with him for right now. Soon enough, her life would hopefully go back to normal and he wouldn’t be in it. So why did that make her feel so sad?

  Chapter 10

  —Some people just need a pat on the back. Right off a cliff.—

  Brooks rubbed a hand over his face as he, Gage, and Leighton all looked at the screens Gage had pulled up. Blueprints found on Detective Turner’s computer.

  Each blueprint was that of a school. An elementary school, a middle school, and a high school.

  “An elementary school,” Leighton muttered, disgust in his voice.

  Brooks simply nodded in agreement, feeling nauseous. He’d seen and done more than he wanted to think about overseas. Whenever kids were involved… He tightened his jaw. They had a chance to do something before anyone was hurt. But he didn’t think this was something they could handle alone. And he wasn’t afraid to admit their crew had limits. “We need to bring in the Feds on this.”

  To his surprise, Gage nodded as Leighton said, “I agree.”

  Okay, then. They were all in agreement. Brooks didn’t want to bring Darcy into this or let the Feds know how they’d come across this information. “We need to find a way to give them this information anonymously.” The only problem was, the FBI had a lot of resources. Giving them something anonymously could prove difficult. Eventually Darcy would be questioned, as would her sister. At least Emma didn’t know anything. But Darcy was a terrible liar and they would see right through her.

  “I might know a way around that,” Leighton said. “I’ve got a contact with the FBI.”

  “Since when?” Brooks asked.

  “Woman I worked with in Iraq,” was the brief answer. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, but the man had been like a ghost the last year. Impossible to read.

  Brooks waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, said, “You trust her?”

  “With my life.” No hesitation.

  That would have to be good enough for now. “You trust her to keep Darcy out of anything?”

  Leighton nodded, his expression neutral. “I’ll talk to her, make sure that before I give her anything, Darcy is protected.”

  “Good. If she goes back on her word…” Brooks didn’t have to finish. The threat was clear. And he didn’t give a shit that he was indirectly threatening a federal agent. If someone got Darcy hurt or put her in the line of fire, all bets were off. She was his to protect. From any and all threats.

  When Leighton took a surprisingly menacing step toward him, Gage jumped up. “Leighton’s word is good, dude. Come on.”

  Brooks stared at his childhood friend for a long moment, wondering at Leighton’s relationship with this unnamed FBI agent, and feeling like a jackass. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m twisted up over Darcy.” No reason to deny it.

  The tension in Leighton’s shoulders eased. “I get it.”

  Brooks wondered if he did indeed get it. His friend had been a shadow of his former self since moving back to Redemption Harbor. He’d assumed it had been because of something that happened overseas but…maybe it was because of a woman.

  “We need to visit some of the schools,” Gage said, cutting through his thoughts. “At least get some eyes on the ground, do some recon… See if anything is already in place.” Anything meaning an explosive device.

  Because there was no telling how long the FBI would take to respond to the information. Brooks didn’t think it would take long, but just in case, they needed to be able to find out if the places had any after-hours visitors. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to one of the minimized files.

  Gage clicked on it and a flyer for a carnival popped up. Brooks frowned, looking at it. “That carnival is the same day as Markov’s son’s wedding.” It could mean nothing, but was worth noting.

  “If he is going to attack a school, his son’s wedding gives him the perfect alibi.” Leighton’s voice was as grim as his expression.

  They were all silent for a moment. Then Brooks said, “Savage and Olivia should be able to get in to see the elementary school. All they have to do is ask to tour it. Then Savage can break in later and add cameras.”

  Gage nodded. “We can split up who breaks into the others after dark. Anyone have a preference?”

  Brooks and Leighton both shook their heads, and Brooks said, “I’m headed out soon.” Savage and Olivia had a tasting with a potential caterer and Darcy had set it up so that they would run into Emma and Peter again—and this time Peter’s father would be there. Apparently he wanted to talk to the caterer in person before the rehearsal dinner. Brooks was using the opportunity to meet the guy in person, and to plant a listening device in his vehicle if possible.

  He also had another reason for going—one that was sure to piss Darcy off, but he didn’t care. The night Markov had questioned her, Darcy told him that she’d recently broken up with her boyfriend. Brooks wanted to get some face time and make it clear they were now back together. So his presence around her any time in the future wouldn’t look weird if Markov was watching her. Brooks hadn’t run this by Darcy yet, but it was happening.

  He would just ask for forgiveness later.

  “Keep your earpiece in. Let me know if you need anything,” Gage said to him. Then he turned to Leighton. “You ready?”

  Leighton nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get everything together so I know what I’ll be giving her.”

  They didn’t need Brooks anymore, so he left. It was time to see Darcy.

  * * *

  Darcy pulled out of her driveway, heading to work. It felt weird going to work in light of everything that was going on, but what else was she going to do? She had to trust that Brooks and his company were handling things. So far, he was being transparent. Or she assumed he was. He’d promised that he would keep her updated with any news. After he’d scanned her place last night, she felt a little better that no one was listening in on her conversations. And he’d told her that his friend would be monitoring her security system to make sure no one tried to break into her place. It was a little strange to think his hacker friend could even do that, but she now felt freer to talk to Brooks or anyone from Redemption Harbor Consulting if they called.

  Now she had to head to the shop, deal with some administrative stuff and after that she would be meeting with Zac and Olivia, who would be talking to a potential caterer—the same one Peter and Emma were using. Since they’d asked, she’d also scheduled a meeting with Semyon and the caterer around the same time. Semyon wanted to talk to the owner of the restaurant—again—about Friday night’s rehearsal dinner. It had been easy enough to schedule their meetings close together.

  Though they hadn’t said why, Zac and Olivia had been pretty adamant that the two meetings be almost overlapping. She wasn’t certain if they wanted to meet Mr. Markov or more likely plant some kind of tracking or listening device on him. Or maybe his car?
Even thinking about stuff like that made her head hurt. She liked to read mystery novels, but all of this was so far out of her wheelhouse. Whatever the reason, she didn’t care. She just wanted to stop whatever he had planned.

  As she pulled out of her neighborhood, she had that strange feeling that she was being followed again. Just like she’d felt the day she went to Dancing Dragon to meet Zac and Olivia. Since her place wasn’t bugged, she wondered if she was being paranoid. Her schedule was predictable and boring—so anyone watching her wouldn’t even need to follow her. Not really. Almost every morning, she stopped at her shop before meeting with potential clients or dealing with various vendors.

  As she contemplated whether or not she should call Brooks and tell him about her paranoia, her phone rang. When she saw that it was her sister, she slid her Bluetooth in. “How’s the bride-to-be?”

  “Thinking about eloping,” her sister said laughingly.

  “Uh oh. What’s wrong?” This wasn’t the first time her sister had not-quite-jokingly said that.

  “Nothing. I just don’t understand why Peter’s father is insistent on making this a huge production.” Now Emma sounded serious. “God, you and I barely have any family. And Peter and I would have been happy with a small ceremony and an equally small reception. I just looked at the guest list and it’s grown again. He keeps inviting people and neither of us know who they are.”

  Darcy was careful with her words. “What does Peter say?”

  “He’s just as annoyed as me. But he feels bad saying anything since his dad is spending so much money on our wedding. And I feel bad too, like I’m being ungrateful. It’s just…this thing is a whole production neither of us want—and didn’t ask for.”