Renegade

by Lora Leigh

  "I take it you're saying you didn't kill your foreman?" Nik asked as though he really didn't care.

  19

  "No, I didn't kill my damned foreman." Maddix shot Nik a disgusted look. "As I'm certain you already know, I was in an impromptu business meeting with the mayor, the chief of police, and several of our city leaders. But that damned girl refuses to believe it."

  Maddix was out of his chair and pacing to the wide, historically old windows of his office and stared down at the traffic bustling below before turning back to Nik.

  "I need your help," Maddix said, his wide, tanned face creasing in tiredness.

  "When you needed information, I provided it for you. When you needed the blueprints on the estate the Harringtons were using, I provided it, quietly. I was there when you needed me; now I need you. You said you owed me. Now I'm calling in the debt." Nik pursed his lips and stared back at the other man thoughtfully. Yeah, Nik owed him the favor; there was no denying that. And Maddix wasn't scrimping when it came to hiring the best. Nik was the best. He took care of things, all kinds of things. If a man wanted the best personal security, he called Nik. If he wanted the best assassin, he called Nik.

  "You want the girl killed then?" Nik pressed.

  "Fuck no!" Maddix looked like he was going to have a seizure. Shock and disbelief transformed his face as his brown eyes widened once again until they looked as though they would bulge from his face. "I don't want her hurt. I want to know what the hell is going on with her. Why did she target me?"

  Nik sat back as he stared at the other man in confusion.

  "If you had me investigated, Maddix, then you know what I'm known for. What makes you think I can help if you don't want this girl to simply disappear? You're hiring a sledgehammer here when you need a flyswatter."

  Maddix shook his head as he stared back at Nik as though horrified. Maddix swallowed tightly, his Adam's apple bobbing in tight reflex. "I don't know who else to turn to that could actually do the job. Look, Nik, I've helped you in the past, and I don't want that girl hurt. I simply want to know what the hell is going on. Mikayla has never been caught in a lie. Someone is trying to destroy me. Mikayla or someone else, I don't know. I want to know who and I want to know why." Fuck, Nik didn't need this.

  As Maddix said, he'd provided invaluable information weeks before, during an operation that had threatened one of their own. An operation that had been of vital importance to the security of several nations. Nik did owe Maddix, but as Nik stated, Maddix was hiring a sledgehammer to swat at a fly.

  Nik propped his ankle on his knee, set the helmet on his leg, and angled the face shield in Maddix's direction.

  "Did you kill the foreman, Mr. Nelson?" Nik asked coldly, holding his hand up to forestall the words on the other man's lips. "Let's not protest yet, because I warn you, you lie to me and I find out, and I'll kill you as well as those lying for you. Tell me the truth and tell me what you really want before we go any further." Maddix shook his head, frustration lining his face as he moved back to his desk and took his seat. A position of control, Nik thought. This was where Maddix Nelson felt the most in control.

  "I didn't kill my foreman." Maddix wiped his hands over his face again before leaning back in his chair and laying his arms on the sides. "I swear to you, I wasn't there. 20

  And I don't want the girl hurt. Not so much as a bruise or a moment's fear. But I do want to know what the hell is going on. I've lost three damned good builders, one of the best contract plumbers in the business, and an interior designer I was salivating to get for that office project. All because of Mikayla Martin. They've pulled from the project because of their belief in her. And I swear to God, I don't even blame them. If I were someone else, I'd believe her, too. That's how honest she has always been. How good her reputation is." Confusion filled his face now. "If you asked me if I knew a good woman, then Mikayla would be the first that came to my mind."

  Maddix shook his head as he sighed heavily, his lips tightening for long moments. Damn if Maddix didn't act as though he was telling the truth. Nik watched curiously as Maddix lowered his head and stared at the desk for long moments. As he lifted his gaze back to Nik, Maddix finally sighed, confusion evident in his dark brown eyes. "You know, I helped that girl get a loan for that dress shop of hers. My wife and I sent all our friends there for dresses, tuxes, suits, whatever we could do to help her. My wife, Glenda, and Mikayla were fast becoming friends before this happened. I just can't understand why she'd lie like this."

  "And this is what you want me to look into?" Nik asked incredulously. "Do you know how much I charge, Maddix? I don't come cheap, even for a fucking favor. This is like putting a junkyard dog in a cage."

  Maddix's eyes narrowed. "You owe me, Steele; you made that statement yourself. That you owed me one. I'm calling in your marker."

  "That marker gets you a discount," he grunted. "And a slim one at that. This isn't a cut-and-dried job. You're talking about indefinite work here." Maddix leaned forward. "Nik, I put myself in a spot when I helped you before. I risked my business, my family, when I went against Lilly Harrington. If she had learned what I was doing, she could have convinced friends to pull out of some very important D.C. contracts I have. I went out on a limb for what you were doing. Remember that while you're setting your price."

  Nik rose to his feet. "I'll take eighty percent of my normal fee for the job in cash." For a moment, grief flashed in Maddix's eyes. "I don't have enough in personal cash at the moment, and too many eyes are watching the business funds since this murder," he finally said, his voice low. "Give me fifty, Steele. Come on; I know a lot of people. I'll owe you. "

  "I don't want your favors, Maddix." Nik stood to his feet as he stared back at the other man coldly. "I'll be at the Suites until morning if you change your mind."

  "Steele." Maddix rose as well, his movements jerky. "Look, I don't have a good feeling about this. I've built my business using my gut, and my gut is twisted into so many knots it's painful. Whatever the hell is going on isn't going to threaten just me; it's going to threaten her." He reached to the desk and tossed a picture across it with an angry jerk of his hand.

  Nik shouldn't have looked. He knew he shouldn't look, but he wanted to make certain the helmet was angled correctly for Tehya to get an image of the picture. However, his eyes went straight to the photo as well, narrowed, and something inside him became intrigued.

  Thick, long dark blond hair fell straight as a ribbon, thick and healthy, over her shoulder and across her breasts like a soft, warm, living curtain. She had a wide, clear 21

  forehead, a pouty lower lip that drew the male animal inside him. Brows a shade darker than her hair arched over eyes that seemed to suck him in. Amethyst eyes. Eyes that glowed even in that damned photo. They were surrounded by thick, naturally long lashes. Her face was makeup free, innocent, honest. Pure.

  Purity, he knew in many cases, was only skin-deep, but somehow, even that cynical part of his soul wanted to believe the purity he saw in her went clear to the bone.

  "She has three younger brothers and her parents are damned good people," Maddix snapped. "That girl." His finger stabbed at the picture. "She's decent, Nik. I've known her all her life and she's known me just as long. She's investigating me, for God's sake. Talking to people. Refusing to relent on her belief that I was the shooter she saw." His hands were shaking in anger, and perhaps in a little fear. "She's costing me contracts, clients, and more damned sleep than I can afford at my age."

  "Eighty percent of my fee," Nik repeated, fighting back the gut-clenching need to go lower. "I'll be at the Suites."

  Nik forced himself to turn around and walk out of the office, leaving an astounded Maddix Nelson behind him.

  Striding from the building and across the street, Nik straddled the motorcycle and pulled the helmet on.

  "Give me," he told Tehya as he buckled the strap beneath his chin and started the Harley.

  "I'll have what I can get by the time you get to your
room," Tehya promised. "I'll drop it off myself."

  Nik pulled into traffic, his jaw set in lines of tension as he headed for the hotel.

  "What do you have already, Tehya?" he questioned her firmly. "I know you're not empty-handed."

  A chuckle came through the link. "Renegade, trust me, this time, I'm well and truly empty-handed at this point, but I'm still looking. Fix me a cup of coffee and we'll discuss it when I get there."

  Mikayla stood outside the home of the deceased foreman, Edmond "Eddie" Foreman. Her lips didn't curve into a smile at the thought of his name now. She felt that familiar sinking of her stomach, that flash of fear at the memory of his face as he hit the ground. His eyes had been wide in surprise, blank in death. Blood had continued to saturate his shirt; one leg was twisted at an odd angle.

  The fall had broken his back, his hip, and his leg. What had killed him, though, had been that bullet in his heart. The bullet that Maddix Nelson had put there. Breathing in deeply, Mikayla pushed her hair back, straightened her shoulders, and strode up the cracked walkway to the two-story duplex Eddie had owned with his wife, Gina.

  Mikayla had only met Gina once, at a company picnic Maddix Nelson had thrown for his employees and contractors and their families. She was a quiet woman, Mikayla remembered. Gina hadn't smiled a lot and had spoken even less. Eddie had insisted on being the attention getter of the family. He was loud and brash, but he hadn't deserved to die as he had.

  Mikayla was hoping Gina would be willing to discuss her husband's death with her. So far, most people were highly uncooperative when it came to answering her questions about Eddie Foreman or Maddix Nelson. They watched her suspiciously or in 22

  some cases with outright dislike.

  Strangely, Maddix himself was staying particularly low-key about the entire event. He had somehow managed to convince several city officials to give him an alibi, as well as the chief of police.

  Maddix wasn't vociferously protesting his innocence. He was being rather smart, she concluded, by keeping quiet and allowing his friends to cover his murdering butt. Moving to the front door, Mikayla knocked firmly at the rough wood door, noticing the peeling paint, the crack in the door frame, and the state of disrepair that the wood porch was in.

  Eddie Foreman hadn't done much for the upkeep of his own home. The door opened slowly.

  "Miss Martin." There was a hint of a sigh in Gina Foreman's voice. "I had a feeling I would be seeing you soon."

  Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, the police dispatcher looked harried and tired. No doubt she was staying awake at night, perhaps worried that she was in danger herself. Mikayla knew she would have been.

  Dark blond and brown hair framed Gina's pretty features and fell to just below her neck in a layered straight cut. Her chocolate brown eyes were somber, the shadows beneath them attesting to her lack of sleep.

  "Mrs. Foreman, I'd like to talk to you for a moment." Mikayla stared back at Gina earnestly. "I just have a few questions."

  Gina Foreman closed her eyes briefly. She was dressed for work. The black Tshirt she wore carried the insignia of a dispatcher, and Mikayla only hoped the woman cared more about her husband's death than she did about her job. Mikayla wasn't holding her breath, though.

  She was doomed to disappointment, though. It was a good thing she hadn't held her breath.

  "You know I can't talk to you," Gina finally stated regretfully as she laid her arm against the door frame and rubbed her forehead against it.

  "I understand no one wants you to talk to me," Mikayla agreed painfully. "But he was your husband and he was killed in cold blood." Mikayla wanted to scream. Anger was like a parasite inside her, spreading, eating away at her control.

  "Miss Martin, let it go," Gina advised her softly as she straightened. "The police are investigating his death, and I have every confidence that Chief Riley will find his killer."

  Mikayla couldn't let it go. She couldn't get that image of Eddie Foreman's sightless gaze staring up at her out of her mind. It haunted her.

  "Are you sure?" Mikayla asked, doubt heavy in her voice. "Or will he simply continue to cover for your husband's murderer?"

  Gina Foreman's face tightened as grief flashed in her dark eyes once again. There was no doubt she was mourning her husband, even though from what Mikayla understood, Eddie Foreman hadn't exactly been a loving, faithful husband.

  "I can't talk to you," the other woman repeated. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me doubt people I trust. . . ."

  "Do you think I didn't trust Maddix Nelson as well?" Mikayla argued softly, desperate to convince the woman to talk to her. "Mrs. Foreman, I watched your husband 23

  die in front of my eyes. I saw the man who shot him. Perhaps you can ignore that, but I can't. I see it every night in my nightmares. I can't escape it." She couldn't forget it. She had tried. She had fought sleeping just to escape the dreams. She couldn't get the image of Eddie Foreman's dead body out of her mind. She couldn't forget that evening, the sounds, the smells, the horror of it. The feel of complete terror enveloping her as Maddix Nelson had shot at her next was still an ever-present reminder that nothing was certain. Especially tomorrow.

  Gina lifted her hand to her trembling lips as tears gathered in her eyes. Eyes that were shadowed and dark with weariness and grief. Mikayla hated seeing that pain; she hated adding to it.

  "God, don't do this to me." Gina shook her head, her dark blond hair swaying just below her neck as she shook her head.

  She was a pretty woman, Mikayla thought. She'd often thought Gina Foreman was too pretty for her portly, overbearing husband.

  "Mrs. Foreman, I need answers," Mikayla whispered, her fingers curling into a fist as she pressed them against her stomach. "I have to know why so many people would lie for Maddix Nelson."

  "And I can't let myself believe you," Gina said, refusing the request, though her voice was thick with tears now. "I can't let myself believe that what you say is true, Miss Martin. Because if it is, then it means not just Maddix Nelson, a man I've trusted for years, is a murderer, but it means my boss and other people I respect are lying for him. And that I just can't believe. I know them. I don't know you. Good-bye." The door closed in her face.

  Mikayla raked her fingers through her hair as she turned and stepped from the porch, her teeth gritting at another dead end.

  She'd put off coming to talk to Eddie Foreman's wife for three weeks after the funeral, hoping that in that time Gina Foreman would begin questioning the excuses Maddix Nelson and his friends had given her.

  The lies, Mikayla amended. There could be no excuse for murder, or for covering it up.

  Moving back to her Jeep, she wanted to stomp her feet, scream. Even her family argued with her over the questions she asked, the people she had tried to talk to in the past weeks.

  Her parents were beside themselves with worry, and she couldn't blame them. It seemed as though the entire city council was covering for Maddix Nelson rather than trying to bring him to justice.

  The police force patronized her if she even tried to question them. They followed her at times, watched her, though as of yet no one had threatened her. She had a feeling it was a good thing she strictly obeyed traffic laws or she would be paying a hell of a lot of fines.

  She was expecting trouble soon, though. She was surprised it hadn't happened yet. The police were actually all very polite, cool, and apparently quite dismissive, but she could see the promise in their eyes. Mikayla knew she would never be able to depend on them if she needed protection.

  As she moved around the front of the Jeep, her head lifted at the sound of a motor throbbing up the street. The wicked black Harley was cruising down the street, pulling 24

  attention to the extra tall, broad form of the man riding it. His entire face was shielded by a black helmet, but nothing could hide the incredible body covered from shoulders to feet in matching black leather. It was almost enough to steal her breath. It wasn't every day a woman saw the perfect male form, but if th
is wasn't the perfect male form, then it didn't exist. Long muscular legs, broad shoulders, powerful arms, and, if she wasn't very much mistaken, a corded, muscular flat stomach beneath the snug black jacket he was wearing. Wow.

  She had only seen men like him in magazines.

  If only she had seen him before her life had gone to hell four weeks ago. Before she had seen a man murdered and realized that her word meant nothing in the town she had been raised in, the town she loved.

  There were days that she wondered if her life would ever be the same again. Nothing seemed to matter anymore but justice. And as her friend Deirdre told her daily, she was searching for justice for someone she didn't even know. Or was she?

  There were days she wondered if she wasn't searching for justice for herself as well.

  No one believed her. No one believed she had seen Maddix Nelson shoot and kill his foreman that evening. Oh, they were nice enough about it. Most people were quite good at patronizing her.

  Perhaps it was someone who resembled him, they said.

  Had Mikayla been drinking? Doing drugs? Those questions had been asked often. Her lips tightened as she jerked her attention from the fine specimen on the motorcycle and pulled herself into her Jeep.

  She didn't have time for a man. She didn't have time to fantasize or to long for one right now. A man couldn't help her. Until Mikayla found out why everyone was lying to her, no one could help her.

  Because nothing else mattered.

  She wasn't a liar and she wasn't deranged, and it seemed as though it was up to her alone to prove it.

  25

  Chapter 2

  Nik tossed the black helmet to the bed before striding to the refrigerator just inside the door of his hotel room. The small suite wasn't luxurious but clean and comfortable.

  "What have you found?" He turned to Tehya as she watched him from the sofa across the room.

  "Pretty much nothing." She shrugged her slender shoulders as she brushed back her long fiery red hair and watched him with brilliant emerald green eyes. "She's honest, pays her bills on time, never bounces a check, and until four weeks ago devoted herself to the clothing store she owns in town. She's the oldest of four children; her father is considered dependable and honest, as is her entire fucking family. Two of her brothers have had speeding tickets, nothing more. They're your average American family, Nik." Tehya shook her head and stared back at him as though confused. "I don't think I've ever investigated anyone without a shady past, secrets, or a blemished reputation. I could be going into shock."