The Lady in Red & Dangerous Deception

by Linda Turner

  He must have heard the promise in her voice, because he covered himself with one hand. “Calm down, Tor, that was a big misunderstanding, just like I told ya back then. I didn’t even know how to work that thing. I didn’t aim it at your bedroom window on purpose.”

  She hadn’t bought it back then, and she wasn’t buying it now. “Uh-huh. And the window of your garage doesn’t give you a perfect view into my living room.” A discovery that had had her searching for the thickest curtains she could find.

  “Honest, Tor.” The fury in her voice must have made him nervous. A whine crept into his tone. “I was out there trying to fix Ma’s radio. See?” He waved the tool he held as if for proof. “That’s all. But I couldn’t fix it. Maybe you’ll take a look at it later, huh?”

  She gave the tool a pointed look. “Fixing a radio with a wrench? Either you’re dumber than I thought or you think I am.”

  “Do you require some assistance?”

  For a moment she’d forgotten James. But he was beside her now, a lethal undertone to his otherwise innocent words that Junior obviously recognized. He backed up several feet, babbling the whole time.

  “Hey, buddy, there’s no problem here. Just a little neighborly chat, you know? I gotta go in now, gotta check on my ma. She doesn’t like me to leave her alone too long.” He was backpedaling rapidly, putting as much distance as possible between him and the man at her side, who was fairly radiating menace.

  She glanced at James, put a hand on his arm. It was tight with bunched muscles. She had the impression of a big jungle cat, ready to pounce. There was a feral expression in his eyes, like a hunter who had scented prey. “There’s nothing going on here that I can’t handle. C’mon.” It was several long seconds before he allowed her to turn him, and fell into step with her as they crossed the yard.

  “How long has that been going on?” His voice was clipped.

  Tori thought it wiser to pretend to misunderstand. “Joe Jr.? Oh, he moved in with his mom about a year after I bought the house.” And had been a royal pain in her side ever since. “He’s annoying but harmless.”

  From the tone of his voice, he wasn’t buying it. “A polite description of a lowlife Peeping Tom. Have you reported him to the police?”

  “I took care of it myself, okay?” He stopped, just looked at her. Finally she blew out a breath. “Look, he’s a slimeball, but his mother, Pauline, is the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. As long as I can keep things strictly between him and me, she won’t have to be upset.” She had to exert more force to get him to turn, accompany her across the yard. “You, of all people, should appreciate the sentiment.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said flatly. “Sure he’s a loser, but even guys like him get a little braver with some booze or their drug of choice in their system. How can you be sure…” His gaze returned to the street before them and he stopped dead in his tracks. He threw out an arm to halt her, as well. “Do you recognize that car?”

  Puzzled at his abrupt change of subject, she followed his gaze to his vehicle, and the one parked in back of it, close enough for the bumpers to almost touch. “No, why?”

  He grabbed her sleeve, spun her around and pushed her toward the house. “It doesn’t belong to your neighbor? One of his friends maybe?”

  Bewildered, she looked over her shoulder, difficult to do as she was stumbling over the lawn with his hand at the small of her back. “No, I’ve never…”

  The night erupted into an inferno that shook the ground and singed the air around them. Heat enveloped them, brutally intense. Time fragmented, split into short stills. There was the sight of Joe Jr. standing on his porch, his jaw agape. Then the hard ground rushing up to meet her, the oxygen streaming out her lungs when a heavy weight landed on her. She had a single last image of the street, James’s car and the one behind it engulfed in flames. Then something flew through the air, and her head exploded in agony. After that, there was nothing at all.

  “Someone sure went to a hell of a lot of trouble to plan a bonfire in your honor.” Detective Cade Tremaine looked up from his notebook, his green gaze sweeping between James and Tori. “If you have any ideas who, you’d better be letting me in on it, and quick.”

  Broodingly, James looked toward the scene half a block down the street, where the bomb squad had cordoned off the entire area. The fire was under control now, showing the skeletal remains of the two cars. “If I was the target, and that’s a big if, there are any number of people who might have reason to want me out of the way.”

  “Yeah,” Cade deadpanned, “but do any specific names spring to mind? I mean, outside of family?” When Tori’s attention jerked to him, his mouth quirked up and he shrugged. “Hey, I’m joking. But you haven’t pissed Ana off lately, have you?”

  That remark pulled a smile from James. “No more than usual.” He blew out a breath. “But she’s going to be hard to contain once she hears about this. Unless…”

  Cade was already shaking his head. “Not a chance, buddy. I’m not going to try to keep this from her. And I couldn’t if I wanted to. The press is all over this already.”

  As if on cue, a white news helicopter flew low across the scene, a cameraman leaning out the door, filming the scene. That sight, and the chaos on the street, had James choosing his words carefully. “I’d appreciate you being as vague on the details as possible. I don’t need this kind of publicity right now.”

  He felt the shudders working through Tori next to him, and without a thought he shrugged out of his jacket to hang it over her shoulders. That was the first time he noticed that it was completely missing one sleeve. Anchoring it in place with his arm around her waist, he ignored his brother’s interested stare and went on. “I’m delivering on a big contract tomorrow. I hope to be awarded the bid on another very soon. This sort of publicity I can do without.”

  Jotting down a few notes, Cade inquired, “Is that what tonight was about? These projects of yours?”

  “Hard to say. We don’t even know that I was the target.” Tori stirred beside him, but James tightened his arm warningly. “If I were you I’d check out the guy that lives right there.” He gestured with his free hand at Joe Jr.’s house. “He’s a dirt ball, and there’s no telling what he’s mixed up in.”

  “I told you before, he’s harmless. Joe’s got nothing to do with this.” Tori finally roused from her shell-shocked state and entered the conversation. “Can I get into my house now? I want to get an idea of the damage.”

  Cade half turned, and motioned to a uniformed cop standing nearby. “The homeowner would like to get into that house. Has it been cleared?”

  The cop approached them and nodded. “The windows are blown in on the street side, but no structural damage has been observed. I can take her in.”

  James frowned. “Why don’t you wait a few minutes. I’ll go with you.”

  “Hey, I handled your idea of a fun evening, Tremaine.” Tori’s attempt at a smile wobbled at the edges, but she seemed steady enough. “I can handle this.” She moved away, fell into step with the uniform and headed to her house.

  “So…” Cade let the word dangle. “She’s the reason you were in the neighborhood, huh?”

  Bringing his attention back to his brother, James said shortly, “She’s an…associate of mine.”

  “Yeah, got that.” Cade rocked back on his heels. Damned if it didn’t look like he was enjoying himself. “And you were in her house…associating…for how long before the bomb went off?”

  “We’d only been home about two hours,” he started, and then another thought had his blood running cold. Using abandoned cars full of explosives was typically a terrorist stunt, designed to take out an entire block of buildings and create the greatest damage possible. But someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to limit the destruction. The only person meant to die in the blast had most likely been him.

  “Well, if it was meant for you, the guy took some risk. Most would have hooked it to the ignition or accelerator to detonat
e when the vehicle was turned on, or pressure applied to the gas pedal. It’s chancier to hang around the vicinity waiting for the chance to blow it.”

  Looking back at Cade, James said, “All the vehicles used by me or by the company are protected by Safe-T, an antiterrorist alarm system. If anyone had gotten close enough to try, to wire the engine or the body of the car, I would have been alerted.”

  Cade tapped his pen against his pad. “So someone either made an incredibly lucky choice, or they knew about that protection.” His somber stare met James’s. “Who’s that narrow it down to?”

  “Hell, anyone who’d done their homework.” He jammed his hand into his hair, frustration riding him. Any of his rivals would know, since his system, minus some perfections for his own private use, was on the market. Anyone who worked for him would know, as well.

  After that thought, a brief mental image flashed across his mind. His curse had his brother’s brows raising.

  “What?”

  “Tori had the hood up and her hands in the engine less than three hours ago.” The blood in his veins seemed to ice up. If he’d brought a car that hadn’t been protected and someone had tampered with it, it might have blown the moment she’d unlatched the hood.

  The ice in his blood dissipated, melted by the fury that began to simmer. He’d brought the danger to her doorstep, literally. Through their association, she was at risk, too. And he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to cope with that.

  In succinct sentences he told Cade as much as he’d shared with Jones about the threats, purposefully staying as vague as he could. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to stay on guard,” he concluded. “And alert Sam, too. I don’t know if the purpose is to distract me or get rid of me, but going after anyone in my family would be just as sure a distraction as something like this.” They exchanged a sober look. “Be careful.”

  Cade’s notebook shut with a snap. “Sounds like good advice for you to be taking yourself. Why the hell didn’t you come to me when those notes started arriving? Do you still have them?”

  Carefully he skirted the last question. “It’s not the first time something like this has happened. It won’t be the last. I had the notes analyzed by a lab I use, and no fingerprints were found, except for the outside of the envelopes. I didn’t think you could guarantee they wouldn’t leak to the press, and as I’ve said, that could really scuttle things for the company right now.”

  Cade’s response to that was unprintable. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re actually more worried about business than being straight with your family?”

  James drew back, watched his brother more warily. The man was obviously furious. There was a nerve twitching in his jaw that always indicated temper kept tightly leashed. “I didn’t want to worry you all unnecessarily. This kind of thing…” He hesitated, finally deciding that half a truth was better than none at all. “There’s danger in all of our jobs. Sam’s—despite the fact we’re all supposed to believe he’s an international attorney—and yours. You’re the one who had three bullets dug out of his chest just months ago, remember? I’m already taking precautions. I’m asking that you do, too.”

  Jaw still tight, Cade looked away, slapping his closed notebook in a rapid tattoo against his leg. “You have a point. But there’s another you’re refusing to consider here. When someone targets one Tremaine, he takes on all of us. And if you think the rest of the family is going to sit back and let you handle this alone…well, you’re even denser than I thought.”

  The brotherly insult was mild, given some he’d endured in the past, and when Cade brushed by him, he let him go. The memory of his own stunned grief when Cade was in the operating room for hours, his life hanging in the balance, was still fresh. Recalling it, remembering the helpless rage that had filled him at the time, gave him some insight into his brother’s feelings now.

  Scrubbing his face with his hands, he removed them to see Tori approaching him again. He watched carefully, but there was nothing showing in her expression but resignation.

  “Well, the damage doesn’t look too bad, although I’m told everyone on this block will have to have structural assessments done. But glass is everywhere. I’ll probably have to replace the furniture and the carpet.” Irony was rife in her voice. “The clothes you bought seem to be fine. Everything was still boxed or covered.”

  “I’ll take care of your house.” He raised a hand to stem the protest he sensed on her lips. “There’s little doubt that if I hadn’t been here, you’d be sleeping peacefully right now. The police will be in the area for hours yet. I’ll have workmen here first thing in the morning.” He waited a moment before adding nonchalantly, “We’ll have to get those deliveries out of there so they can work, though. I’ll have the collection sent to our place on the lake. That’s where I’m taking you.”

  The medics on the scene had pronounced them both fine, but for a few bruises and lacerations. He wasn’t so sure. He was still worried that she might have a possible concussion. She’d been out a couple of minutes when a piece of debris had hit her. There was a good-size lump on her head, a dark smudge across one cheek and a rapidly spreading bruise along her jaw. Yet she showed no signs of crumpling. What she did show signs of was temper. Ridiculous, really, to be reassured by the sight.

  “What makes you think I’m going to let you call the shots? And I’m not staying with you. That’s out of the question.”

  Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he called for a cab. There was no way she’d be able to get her car out and maneuver around the emergency vehicles blocking the street. Not for a few more hours at least. As an aside he said, “I suppose you could always bunk in with Joe Jr. over there.” She followed the direction of his glance, where Joe and his mother stood on their porch, watching the goings-on avidly. This was more excitement than their quiet neighborhood had seen in decades.

  “I could go to a motel.”

  “You could.” Having ordered the taxi, he flipped the cell phone shut and slipped it back in his pocket. “You’re not going to.”

  Hands still clutching his jacket around her shoulders, she narrowed her gaze at him. “You know, you really irritate me, Tremaine.”

  The words, the tone in which they were delivered, lightened something inside him. Wrapping an arm around her, he rested his chin on her hair, for just a moment. “And you fascinate me, Corbett. I guess we’re both going to have to learn to deal with it.”

  Dawn was still hours away when a cell number was dialed for the third time that night. This time it was answered by a familiar voice, sounding groggy. “H’lo?”

  “You failed tonight. Miserably.”

  There was silence for a few moments, as if the man on the other end of the line was mounting his argument. “Look, it was a clean attempt. How was I to know he’d spot the car and get wise before he got close enough to—”

  “It’s your job to know. I pay you to know. You failed, and now Tremaine will be on his guard. The police have been alerted. It will be more difficult next time.” Thoughts of there having to be a next time made fury surge. Incompetence was intolerable. And time was growing short. “Had you done your job correctly, he would have been eliminated standing within a half block of that car.”

  “Hey, that was your idea. You said you wanted as little collateral damage as possible. I put enough C-4 in the vehicle to blow Tremaine to hell and back if he’d gotten closer. You want me to take out an entire city block, I can do that.”

  Calm was never more difficult to summon. Deep cleansing breaths were hauled into lungs, attempting to push aside the haze of fury. “You can’t try the same thing again, you idiot. I’ll have to think of something else. Did they get near enough to see you tonight?”

  “Hell, I was long gone before the cops arrived. And there’s no way they can trace the vehicle or the explosives back to me. Relax. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Nothing. If only he knew. “I’ll be in touch.” The caller abruptly ended the c
onversation, set the cell phone down on the desk with more care than the act called for. Shimmering waves of rage mixed with panic. It had been a mistake to trust another party to do the job correctly. Tremaine’s elimination was going to require a personal touch, and, thanks to the bungling idiot that had been hired, it had just grown more complicated.

  Things had come together so much more neatly twenty years ago. Using outsiders was risky.

  But the calendar on the desk was a taunting reminder that time was growing precious. Another plan would have to be devised. But first the man who’d made a mess of things would have to be taken care of.

  Leaving loose ends was sloppy work.

  Chapter 10

  Despite the comfort of the surroundings, there was always something disorienting about waking up in a strange place. Tori rolled over in the huge four-poster bed, opened her eyes and blinked several times. Then she sat bolt upright and reassessed the space around her, trying to summon memory into her exhausted brain.

  The lake house. Tremaine’s. The explosion.

  She fell back on the bed, burying her face in a pillow. Before James Tremaine had walked into her office, she’d been spared this type of excitement. Oh sure, there was the occasional knife fight. And she’d once chased down a would-be mugger and subdued him until the police arrived, but most of her work was pretty mundane.

  There was nothing mundane about her current client or the feelings he elicited in her.

  Discomfited by the thought, she flopped over in bed, opened her eyes again. She would have been as concerned about any client of hers who had barely avoided getting blown up in front of her place, she assured herself. Would have felt the same fears for anyone she knew who was being stalked by someone who might very well have killed before. Who was intent on killing again.

  The reassurances were rational and should have soothed her. Unfortunately, Tori wasn’t one to lie to herself about anything. And she couldn’t pretend, even to herself, that James Tremaine was just a client. Couldn’t pretend that she didn’t have deeper feelings that went far beyond the client-P.I. relationship.