by M. S. Parker
Nothing at first, but then, my eyes found familiar bronze hair and a broad set of shoulders. My heart skipped a beat even as a wave of nausea washed over me.
This was it. I had to make a choice. There was no room for error.
Bron wouldn’t be my first arrest – technically – but it was the first time I would be making an arrest alone, and that itself would've been enough to make me a bundle of nerves. The fact that it was him made it so much worse.
I hesitated for only a moment and then made my decision. I gestured toward him so the TSA agents knew where I was going, then made another motion to let them know to stay back.
My childhood flashed before my eyes as I took my first step forward. All of that was about to come crashing down. All of the memories we shared, the history we had. The connection and emotion that had always been between us was about to change in a very significant way.
He shifted his weight, growing restless when I noticed Benita and a few of the local authorities coming down the main corridor towards the gate. Shit. They were in the open, and it was obvious Bron had seen them. I could've chickened out and let Benita take it from there, but I knew that I needed to do this. I was the one to let him go the first time I'd caught him. I had to be the one to take him in now.
I circled the row of chairs and came around in front of him, one hand out, the other on the gun at my hip. Tears burned my eyes, and I felt a lump form in my throat. My voice, however, came out with surprising authority and force.
“Broderick Murray, you're under arrest.” I used his given name – a name I'd never called him, not even before – to create a level of detachment for my heart, but I couldn't stop myself from adding, “It’s over, Bron. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t even try to get up. Instead, he looked up at me, his expression blank, as if he didn't know who I was. He waited patiently as the officers accompanying Benita grabbed him by his arms and stood him up. He didn't look at me as they pulled his hands behind him and cuffed him. One of the officers read him his rights as they led him away.
Benita’s hand landed on my shoulder as we followed. “You okay, Rookie?” she asked with just the right amount of concern.
“Yeah,” I said. “We got him. Look, when we get back, I want the chance to talk to him before we get too far along.”
It was our collar, and she was the senior agent, so she should be able to get me a few minutes alone.
“Sure thing,” she said. “I’ll make it happen.”
We rode back to the office in silence but for different reasons, I assumed. Benita was probably dreading the paper work and official procedures we had to jump through like circus hoops. I knew she was a bit worried for me, but she was focused on the big picture. I needed to be, but I wasn't sure how that could ever work.
We'd won, but I had yet to know exactly what I'd lost in exchange.
Chapter Twelve
Karis
We took him back to the FBI headquarters rather than the police station. Colman wouldn’t be happy when he found out we'd done this on our own, but if we'd taken Bron to the local precinct instead of back to our place, it would've been worse.
“Take him into the interrogation room,” Benita said as the cops handed Bron off to a pair of agents who'd been waiting for us. “Agent Melendez will go with you.” Then, to me, she added, “I’m going to handle Colman on this. You get the answers you need before he sends me in.”
“Thank you,” I said, putting as much gratitude into the two words as I could.
“Go,” she said.
The other agents led Bron into the room and came back out. I stood outside the door to the room for a moment and took a few deep breaths to steady myself.
“What the hell is this?” I heard Colman somewhere behind me. “Is that a suspect? Why didn’t I know about this? Is this what you’ve been up to? Why didn’t I know what the hell was going on?”
It was the first time I’d heard him actually sound angry, but Benita knew how to handle him, so all I needed to worry about now was talking to Bron. My Bron.
No. I shook my head. The FBI’s Bron.
He wasn't mine. I had to remember that.
I opened the door to the interrogation room and walked in. In my mind’s eye, for a brief moment, I saw the child he once was sitting on the other side of the small rectangular table. Then I saw the man. He was cuffed but not dangerous. He'd never be dangerous to me.
“I’m sorry, Karis,” he murmured. “Sorry it happened this way.”
I stood behind the chair on my side of the table, facing him. I didn’t know where to start. My heart broke for him, to know the person he had been, to see the person he’d become, and to know at least some of what happened to make him the person sitting in front of me. And then I remembered how his lips had felt against mine, and the emotions he’d awakened in me with that one random kiss.
Before I could even start to say anything, Benita knocked on the door and stuck her head inside.
“I need to speak to you for a moment,” she said.
“What’s up?” The look in her eyes immediately concerned me. It didn't look like she had anything good to say.
“I just got a call,” she said as I joined her outside.
“What kind of call?” I asked, my gut clenching.
“Remember Leticia Backman?”
“Of course. She’s the one who led us to Bron.” Actually, she’d led us to his friend first, who had finally led us to Bron, but she'd been our first real break. “But what does she have to do with it now?”
“She was just found murdered in her home.”
The air went out of my lungs.
It was half a minute before I could say anything, and when I did, it wasn't anything I wanted to say. “You think Bron had something to do with it.”
“Who else? If he didn’t do it, he probably knows who did,” she said. “But I say we go in like we’re certain he did it and see what information he offers up.”
I took another deep breath. My stomach was doing somersaults at this point, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to hold myself together much longer. Except I had to. I had to be able to do this, no matter who he was.
Sensing my trouble, Benita put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “You going to be okay, Rookie?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to go through with this? I mean, theft is bad enough, but now we’re talking about walking in there with suspicion of murder.”
I nodded again. Tears threatened to spill over, but I forced them back, then took another deep, ragged breath.
“Let me ask you again.” The concern was gone from her voice, and a hard, professional tone replaced it. “Agent Melendez, are you okay to move forward with the suspect?”
I cleared my throat and stood up straight, letting my training take control. I could do this.
I looked Benita in the eye. “Yes, Agent Alverez,” I said firmly. “I'm ready to proceed.”
“You can let me do the talking if you want,” she offered. After a pause, she added, “And I would prefer if you would.”
“Got it.”
We walked back into the interrogation room together, Benita in front. She sat down in the chair across from Bron, and I stepped back, assuming the position of an observer.
And as soon as I looked at Bron, I was glad my partner was taking the lead. His eyes were cold, a calculated expression of a consummate professional. There was absolutely no trace of the man who'd kissed me, the man who'd apologized just minutes ago.
This was a criminal...and maybe a murderer.
Benita started talking. “So, Broderick...you don’t mind if we call you Broderick, do you? After all, it’s a little late in the game to keep using nicknames and aliases, right? Not when we know who you really are.”
He didn’t say anything, didn't even acknowledge that she'd spoken.
“Well, I’m sure you’re aware of why we have you in here,” she continued. “But
, honestly, we can get to that in a minute. I need to ask your advice on something. See, my partner here has just moved into a new place, and she’s thinking about purchasing something to help liven it up. Do you know much about art, Broderick?”
I wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. She was normally fairly straight forward, but she seemed to be playing with Bron a little bit. Was she trying to break him? Was she trying to use my connection with him to get him to talk?
I trusted her, but I didn't think it was going to work. He wasn't some middle level grifter running cons on tourists.
“All right. I know you don’t want to say anything, but there is another matter I need your help with, one professional to another.” She leaned back and gave him a hard look. “Leticia Backman was found in her home, not more than a few hours ago, murdered. And since she's the one who helped us find you, it doesn't seem like a big leap to think you might've had something to do with it.”
His eyes went from hers to mine, then back to hers, clearly searching for the truth. When he realized we weren't lying, something subtle in his face changed. Silence sat between us for more than a minute before he broke it.
“I want to cut a deal.”
The story continues in Con Man Book 3. Turn the page to keep reading.
Con Man Book 3
Chapter One
Karis
I watched his cerulean blue eyes darken as he absorbed the news that his latest mark had been murdered. My partner was right when she said that Bron Du Murier had the best motive for killing Leticia Backman, but I still didn’t know what to believe. What I did know for certain was that the kid I had grown up with was gone. The man who'd taken his place was a stranger.
A stranger who might also be a killer.
“I didn't kill her.” He said it simply, without any effort to be charming or coercive.
“We know you were there, Broderick,” Benita said.
It was strange, hearing someone call him by his real first name. I was the one to start calling him Bron, and even though he used a different last name now, he'd apparently kept the first when he wasn't coming up with aliases from our mutual past. Not for the first time, I wondered how much of his name choice had to do with me. With us.
“Mrs. Backman was polite enough to stop by and let us know that you tried to pass off a forged painting as a gift after she caught you in a...delicate situation with her maid,” Benita continued.
Bron stiffened and glances my way. There and gone again, but I'd spent years being aware of his movements, and it seemed that hadn't changed. What I could no longer tell, however, was what the look meant. Part of me thought it might've been because he’d been caught having sex with Mrs. Backman's maid, but I didn't want to go there. Things were complicated enough without me trying to analyze that aspect of things.
“That's pretty sloppy. Based on the people you know, and the jobs you’ve pulled off in the past, I expected better.” My partner gave Bron a hard look. “Is that why you did it? You realized she was on to you, and you wanted her out of the picture?”
Bron shook his head and looked down. “I didn't kill her.” He laughed, an exhausted, almost desperate sound.
“Is something funny, Bron?” I spoke for the first time, my voice tight but controlled.
He looked at me then, really looked, and the expression in his eyes broke my heart. Loathing. Sadness. Pain. He could put on a good act, but somewhere inside him was the same boy I'd fallen for years ago.
“You know what happened to my parents.” The words were quiet, as if he were talking only to me. “I've done a lot of shit in my life, but I could never kill someone.”
Despite everything I knew he'd done, I believed him, and not only because of the feelings I still possessed. I'd witnessed how devastated he was by his parents' deaths. I'd held him when he cried. For some, that sort of loss at such a young age might've made them hard, cold. It could have turned them into the same kind of monster, but I didn't believe that was the case here. My gut told me that he had the opposite reaction when it came to violence.
Benita broke the moment, reminding me that Bron and I weren't alone.
“You mean to tell me you didn’t realize that Mrs. Backman recognized the piece you gave her as a forgery? That you didn't suspect she'd come to the authorities? Come on, Broderick. You're smarter than that, and we both know it.” Benita was trying to appeal to his ego. Like she’d told me, a big ego was a common denominator among most con men, especially ones like Bron.
He straightened and looked directly into Benita’s eyes. “I did not kill Leticia Backman. But I have a good idea of who did.”
She didn't respond, giving him the searching sort of look I'd seen her use on criminals before. Generally, if she waited, they broke, or at the very least slipped up. Bron kept his gaze locked on hers, his expression calm. He knew what she was doing, but I didn't know if that meant he was innocent, or just really good at being deceitful. I hoped it was the former. Theft, forgery – those were things I could forgive. Murder...that was a line that could never be crossed.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Benita finally gave in. “Who did it if you didn’t?”
I watched the corners of his mouth lift in a smug little grin. It wasn't the smile I remembered, but it wasn't exactly malicious either.
“As I said before, agents,” he addressed both of us this time. “I want a deal. And now that I’ve got your attention, and you understand that I have information you need, I won’t talk until I have something to work with from you.”
Benita looked at me, and I knew she could see everything I was feeling playing across my face. So much for maintaining a professional presence. I was too conflicted about this case, about our suspect.
“Excuse us.” She stood and gestured toward the door.
In the hallway, I braced myself for whatever she was about to say. I'd convinced her to keep this quiet, asked her to give me a couple minutes with Bron alone. I'd put both of our careers on the line, and now I didn't know what to do.
“What’s going on in there, Rookie?” she asked me, her voice not nearly as harsh and angry as I expected. “You still with me? Or are you getting lost in that head of yours?”
“I want to believe him,” I blurted out the truth. If anyone would understand, it was her.
“I know you do.” Her voice softened. “But you have to look at this from a professional, uninvolved perspective.” She looked around for a moment and then opened the door to the observation room attached to the room where Bron sat. She walked me over to the two-way glass. “See that man in there?”
I nodded. Of course I saw him. I couldn’t miss him. That was Bron. My Bron. Except he wasn't. Not really.
“Tell me what you see in there.”
I took a deep breath, knowing what she wanted to hear. “I see a grifter we already know to be a skilled manipulator. I see a man who knows he’s been caught, and will do whatever he needs to do to make sure we go as easy on him as possible.”
“Keep that in mind when we’re considering that he might be telling the truth about the murder. Don’t get your hopes up, Karis. We don’t need the FBI to become his next con.” She put a hand on my shoulder and sighed. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for you. If you want to sit it out, I understand, but I’m not going to ask you to. I’m leaving that up to you. But, if we go back in there, you’re with me one hundred percent, got it? You can't let him see that he's getting to you.”
“Got it,” I said, squaring my shoulders. The past was the past. Whatever used to be between Bron and me had been gone a long time. Now, we were on opposite sides of the law, and I couldn’t let a childhood crush get in the way of my career or the justice I was charged with upholding.
“Now, you know him. Better than I do, at least.” Benita folded her arms and looked up at me. “What's the best way to go about this?”
I thought for a minute, considering what I knew about Bron. At least the aspects of his personality I could still see. “Let’
s see what he wants and what he’s offering us before we stick our necks out for him,” I finally said. “We'll need to be careful. For all we know, he could give us the name of a rival and say that's Mrs. Backman's killer.”
Benita smiled at me. “That’s my girl.” She opened the door and then looked at me. “Why don't you take the lead this time? See if we can use your past to rattle him.”
It was a good idea. I only hoped that I'd be the one doing the rattling rather than letting him get to me. A lot was riding on this gamble.
I sat down across the table from Bron without looking at him. I laced my fingers together, set my hands on the table. His were only inches away, and I could feel the magnetic attraction between us, begging me to grab his hand. Face to face with him now, the first time since we kissed in the alleyway, I felt my resolve faltering. I forced myself to look at him, mustering up every ounce of professionalism inside me so he couldn’t see how conflicted I was
“All right, Mr. Murray, we’re prepared to consider a deal,” I began. “But first, we need to know what you're offering.”
“What I’m offering?” A bark of laughter escaped him, and I almost flinched at the cynical sound. “Why should I give you two anything if you won’t tell me what I get in return?”
I wanted to prove to Benita I could stand my ground with this man, and I needed to prove it to myself.
“Right now, we’ve got enough to put you away for a long time just for what we currently have on you. I’m sure once we start digging, we’ll be able to connect you to a lot more, and there’s a pretty good chance you’ll never see the sun as a free man again.” My voice was even, firm. I kept my fingers twisted together so they couldn't shake. I could do this. “Now, we don’t have to play nice, but considering your past, I’m willing to give you a shot. Agent Alverez, on the other hand, isn't quite so open-minded, and since she's the senior agent on the case, you need to help me convince her that you're worth the effort to put together some sort of deal.”
