“Fine.”
Leaving her office, she closed the door behind her and headed toward the front, wondering who on earth it could be. She reached the door and looked through the peephole. It was Liz Tillman. Why would her uncle’s ex-girlfriend be here? Striker had warned her there was a chance Liz would seek her out because Liz blamed her for her breakup with Frazier. Now was not a good time to have to deal with Liz, but she couldn’t very well pretend she wasn’t home, not when her car was parked in the driveway. Margo opened the door. “What do you want, Liz? I’m busy.”
“We need to talk.”
“Sorry, but a client is here and—”
“You’re lying. There’s no other car parked in the driveway but yours,” Liz said, taking advantage of the open door to push her way inside Margo’s home.
“Now, wait just a minute,” she said to Liz’s fleeing back. “I didn’t invite you in.”
“Margo? Is everything okay?”
She turned to find Claudine had stuck her head out the workroom door. That was all she needed. “Yes. Everything is okay,” she said, plastering a smile on her face. “Just a little matter I need to take care of. It won’t take long.”
“Oh,” Claudine said, looking at Margo and then Liz. “I thought you said you didn’t double book.”
“I didn’t. This is a personal matter.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Margo was glad when Claudine stuck her head back inside and closed the workroom door. She then turned a furious gaze to Liz. “I told you I had a client here, so please leave.”
“I won’t leave until you and I have a little talk.”
Margo frowned. “We have nothing to talk about. You are interrupting my time with a client,” she said, trying to keep her voice low so Claudine wouldn’t hear them.
“You think I give a damn about your client after what you did to me?”
Liz opened her jacket, and Margo saw the revolver in Liz’s hand. It was pointed at her. “Liz, what are you doing?” Margo asked, looking from the gun back up to Liz. “Are you crazy?”
Liz chuckled. “Yes, I’m crazy. Now let’s go into your kitchen. If you refuse, I will shoot you right here. Then I’ll go into your office and shoot your client, so as not to leave a witness.”
Margo didn’t say anything as she considered Liz’s threat. She’d never thought the woman was capable of falling off the deep end just because Uncle Frazier had broken off with her. Hopefully, if they talked, she could make Liz come to her senses and see what a terrible mistake she was making.
“Fine,” Margo said. “Let’s go into the kitchen and talk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
STRIKER ROUNDED THE corner onto the main road that led into Margo’s subdivision. As he neared her house, he saw another car besides Margo’s car parked in her driveway, and the hairs on his neck stood up. The make and model matched that of Liz Tillman’s vehicle. Striker recalled Frazier mentioning it when he’d warned him about Liz blaming Margo for the breakup. It could be a client’s vehicle, but Striker decided not to take any chances and kept driving to the house next door, remembering it was up for sale. He pulled in the driveway and brought his car to a stop.
With his instincts roaring inside him that something was very wrong about this situation, Striker quickly got out of his car and circled around to the back of the house and then crossed the yard onto Margo’s property. For once he appreciated all her windows, which gave him a good view inside her home. Pressing his body against the side of her house, he also appreciated she had her blinds open. He was about to cross the patio to her sliding glass door but quickly darted back to the wall when Margo entered her kitchen with a woman he could only assume was Liz Tillman. And he could clearly see that the woman was holding a gun on Margo.
He fought back his rage as he silently moved toward the sliding glass door. He tried opening it and found it was locked. Pulling the pocketknife from his boot, he forced open the door, quietly slid it open and went inside. Quickly moving behind a huge potted plant that shielded his body, he crouched down to a position that gave him a good view of what was going on in Margo’s kitchen. He could clearly hear their voices as well.
If Liz Tillman thought she would hurt a single strand of hair on Margo’s head, the woman was sadly mistaken.
* * *
“HONESTLY, LIZ, IF this is because Uncle Frazier broke up with you, I had nothing to do with that.”
“Didn’t you?” Liz said, sneering. “I had plans for me and Frazier, and you ruined them.”
Margo’s cell phone suddenly rang. “Don’t you dare think about answering that,” Liz threatened.
Margo didn’t know what to do. She could tell she wouldn’t be able to reason with Liz. And whatever Margo did, she would have to be careful that Claudine, an innocent in all this, wouldn’t get hurt.
“Liz, why don’t we go somewhere else to discuss this? Away from here for more privacy.”
“This place is just fine and we have all the privacy we need for you to tell me why you deliberately ruined things between me and Frazier.”
“I didn’t ruin anything,” Margo said, hoping against all odds that she would get through to her.
“Yes, you did. Now everything I worked for over the past two years means nothing. I planned it all. I saw Frazier. I set my goal to have him, but, thanks to you, it’s over. I paid someone to get rid of you just to see Frazier suffer, but the man I hired backed out.”
Margo stared at Liz, not believing her admission. “You hired someone to get rid of me?”
A haughty Liz lifted her chin. “Yes. I suggested that he turn you over to human traffickers. I even paid the bastard a down payment. He was going to get the rest when the deed was done. Now I have to take care of you myself.”
“You won’t get away with it.”
“Why not? I’ll shoot you and make it look like a robbery. Of course that means I’ll have to shoot your client, as well, and—”
“I don’t think so. Now drop your gun before I shoot you.”
Both Margo and Liz glanced at Claudine, who stood in the kitchen doorway holding a gun.
“I said drop the gun and don’t think about trying something stupid. I’m a very good shot, lady, but if you want to call my bluff, go ahead,” Claudine warned.
Liz stared at the woman and, as if deciding not to call Claudine’s bluff, she dropped her gun.
* * *
WHAT THE HELL! Striker had been about to crash the little party in Margo’s kitchen when he’d seen Claudine Bernard enter the scene. Where had Claudine come from?
He couldn’t help but grin. It seemed Claudine wasn’t just the it’s-all-about-me bride-to-be he’d taken her for. The woman definitely surprised him. She was the last person he’d think would tote a gun, but in this case, he was glad about it. She had disarmed Liz Tillman.
He was about to come out from behind the plant and let Claudine know he would handle things from here when Claudine’s next words stopped him cold.
* * *
“CLAUDINE, WE NEED to call the police,” Margo said in a rush, inching away from Liz to pull her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
“Don’t move, Margo.”
Margo blinked at Claudine’s harsh command. “Why? We need to call the police.”
Claudine smiled. “We don’t need to do anything. In fact, this woman’s timing is perfect.”
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Margo’s stomach. “I don’t understand. What do you mean her timing is perfect?”
“Then let me explain things,” Claudine said while still holding the gun on both Margo and Liz. “My plan all along was to kill you, Margo, and that was after I took care of your father’s illegitimate brother, Roland Summers.”
“Illegitimate brother?” Liz asked, speaking for the firs
t time since dropping her gun. “There’s an illegitimate brother?”
Other than flashing Liz an irritated look, Claudine ignored her question and then said to Margo, “The guy I hired to kill Summers botched up the carjacking, and Summers survived.”
Margo’s head began spinning. Claudine planned to kill her and had been responsible for Roland’s carjacking? “But why? What did we ever do to you?”
“Your father and Summers drove my father to commit suicide.”
Margo was convinced Claudine had come unhinged. “What are you talking about?”
Claudine sneered at Margo, as if Margo should already know the answer. “Summers was going to blow the whistle on his fellow officers, who were on the take. They set him up, and Summers went to prison.”
“Prison?”
“Yes, prison. Then Summers’s wife and your father were able to get him a new trial.”
“And what was wrong with that when an innocent man had been sent to prison?” Margo asked, still having a hard time following Claudine. Uncle Roland had been a cop? He’d served time? What crime did they pin on him?
“Those bad cops forced my father, a good man and the fire captain in this city at the time, to falsify reports. They swore they would harm his family if he didn’t follow their orders.”
“And what reports did your father falsify?”
“The ones that said the cause of the fire that killed your parents was electrical.”
Margo felt a lump in her throat, and the pulse in her neck began thrumming. “Surely you’re not saying the fire that killed my parents was deliberately set.”
Claudine rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. Don’t be stupid. Did you honestly think five cops would willingly go to jail? They figured if they killed your parents and Summers’s wife, that Summers would get the message and call off the investigation and the new trial. But he didn’t.”
Margo felt weak in the knees. Her parents and Roland’s wife had been murdered?
“Those bad cops were eventually arrested and sent to jail. Fortunately, Dad wasn’t linked to any of it, but the guilt he felt for falsifying that report eventually drove him to commit suicide. I was only fourteen and was the one who found him. He’d hung himself, leaving a note confessing everything. I never gave it to anyone. I kept the note all these years.”
Margo just stared at Claudine. Did Claudine not understand that she wasn’t the only person who’d lost someone because of those corrupt cops? Margo had lost her parents and Roland had lost a wife, a brother and sister-in-law.
“Your uncle Frazier Connelly is on my list as well,” Claudine continued. “He will eventually get what he deserves.”
“Good,” Liz said.
Margo ignored Liz’s words. “And what did Uncle Frazier do?”
“Nothing other than be related to you and Summers.”
* * *
STRIKER HAD HEARD ENOUGH. He quickly moved from behind the huge plant.
“Drop the damn gun, Claudine!”
Startled, Claudine aimed the gun at him and he fired, hitting Claudine in the shoulder. She dropped the gun and fell to the floor. He rushed forward, kicking both Liz’s and Claudine’s guns away from their reach.
Suddenly, Roland, Stonewall, Quasar, Detective Ingram and two of her police officers stormed into the kitchen with their guns drawn.
“Call for medical attention for her,” Detective Ingram said to one of the officers, pointing at Claudine, who was balled up on the floor moaning. “And handcuff Ms. Tillman. Read them both their rights.”
After putting his gun away, Striker moved toward Margo and pulled her into his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. Claudine’s father lied about my parents’ deaths. They were murdered, Striker. It wasn’t an electrical fire at all. And Claudine paid someone to set up a carjacking to kill Roland.”
“I heard,” Striker said.
“And I heard as well,” Roland said, coming to stand beside them. “I was able to prove that those cops killed my wife, but I couldn’t prove the fire that killed your parents had been deliberately set, although I suspected as much. I’m sorry.”
Margo lifted a brow. “Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault.”
“In a way I feel like it was. Your father gave Becca the money she needed to hire a private investigator to get enough evidence to reopen the case. If Murdock hadn’t gotten involved then—”
“How could he not get involved? Dad was your brother, and he had every right to get involved,” she cut in to say. “What happened to them was not your fault. I don’t blame you for anything any more than Claudine should blame us for what happened to her father.”
She paused and then added, “I’m sorry for what they did to your wife. And to know you spent time in jail as an innocent man. That had to be awful for you.”
“I survived.”
“How did you know what was going down?” Striker asked Roland.
“We have Detective Ingram to thank for that. Earlier today, one of her men picked up a guy who’s known as a ‘criminal-for-hire.’ He offered information in exchange for a plea. He said Liz Tillman had hired him to take out Margo. We tried calling Margo to warn her that Liz might do something herself, but when she didn’t answer, we headed over here. We didn’t know you were back in town.” Roland’s cell phone went off and he said, “Excuse me while I get this.”
Margo turned her attention back to Striker. “I thought you were out of town too.”
“I was. I got back today and came straight here from the airport. When I saw the car in your driveway, something didn’t seem right.”
“I’m no threat to Margo. I just dropped by to talk to her,” a handcuffed Liz said, when the officer was about to lead her away.
Detective Ingram rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, Ms. Tillman. And the next thing you’re going to do is try to convince us that one of those guns isn’t yours.”
“B-but I don’t know her,” Liz said, indicating Claudine.
“You might not know her, but the two of you have something in common,” Detective Ingram said to her.
“What?”
“Apparently you both hired the same guy to do your dirty work. Claudine Bernard paid Patrick Grooms to kill Roland Summers during a pretended carjacking, and you, Ms. Tillman, paid him to get rid of Ms. Connelly. He was picked up this morning and since then he’s been singing like a bird.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Liz said. “I didn’t pay anyone to do anything. I don’t know anyone named Patrick Grooms. It will be my word against his.”
“Um, not really,” Detective Ingram said. “You see, Grooms also told us where the two of you met when you paid him to do the job. Unfortunately for you, it was a café with security cameras. You were captured on video making the payment to him. You and Ms. Bernard both were caught on camera at the same café.” She then looked at the officer. “Now get her out of here.”
As soon as Liz was walked out, paramedics arrived to take care of Claudine’s shoulder. She continued to yell at the top of her lungs that Roland and Margo needed to die. Striker was glad when they finally finished dressing Claudine’s shoulder and took her out.
Frazier Connelly rushed into the kitchen looking panic-stricken. “Margo? You okay? I got Roland’s text about Liz.”
“I’m fine, thanks to Striker,” she said, reaching out to give her uncle a hug. “He saved my life once again.”
Frazier glanced at Striker. “Thanks. And who was that other woman? The one whose shoulder is bandaged up?”
“You tell him everything, Uncle Roland. I’m too jumpy to do so right now,” she said, snuggling closer into the comfort of Striker’s arms. She wasn’t sure where Striker had gone when he’d left town or whethe
r he had begun to deal with all his issues. All that mattered was that he was here and had saved her life once more.
Striker tightened his arms around her, and Margo appreciated that. Hearing Roland retell the story for Uncle Frazier’s benefit sent chills through her entire body. She hadn’t looked into the barrel of just one gun today, but two. She was fine now, though. Striker was here with her.
CHAPTER FORTY
“YOUR BATH IS READY.”
Margo glanced up as Striker walked down the stairs. Why now, of all times, did he have to look so damn sexy? Hot. So irresistibly male. “Thanks. And thanks for saving my life again. It seems to have become a habit.”
Striker slid beside her on the sofa. “Hell, I hope not.”
He took her hand in his, linking their fingers. “You’ll never know how I felt when I saw Liz holding that gun on you. It reinforced my realizations about a few things.”
“What?”
“Mainly, that you need a forever-protector.”
A smile curved Margo’s lips. “You want to apply for the job?”
His gaze locked on hers, his expression serious. “Yes.”
She swallowed deeply. They hadn’t had a chance to talk. More police officers had arrived asking for statements. Reporters had also shown up in droves. No doubt, the media would dig into that old case involving the police officers and their possible involvement in her parents’ deaths. The media would also expose Roland’s connection to her family, and she hoped he was okay with that.
Once everyone had left, except for the few members of the media who were intent on hanging around, Striker had locked up her home and brought her to his place. The news crew hadn’t been allowed near his home since Striker lived in a gated community.
Margo had fallen in love with his town house the minute she walked through the door. It was spacious with a beautiful view of the mountains. And for some reason, she felt right at home. He had told her to get comfortable while he ran her bathwater because a good soak in the tub would work wonders for her. When she told him she had nothing to put on, he told her he had plenty of T-shirts. That reminded her of the last time she’d worn one of his shirts.
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