by Laura Scott
Back when Gage and Alyssa had started dating, she hadn’t trusted Gage’s feelings, especially the way he’d proposed so quickly. She’d shamelessly flirted with him as a way to test his feelings because, in her experience, men usually went for the easy, no-strings-attached type of relationship. But he’d surprised her by instantly shutting her down. He had claimed to love Alyssa, although just a short month later, she had returned his engagement ring.
Mallory suspected Alyssa still harbored deep feelings for Gage Drummond.
Since thinking about her past—and the way she’d messed up one relationship after another—was depressing, she concentrated on the present. Glancing over at Jonah, she focused on his wound. It wasn’t easy to see the stain on his navy T-shirt, but she could tell the damp spot was spreading.
“Jonah, what happened? Why would an old wound bleed like that?”
“I had surgery about a week ago, and a few of the stitches must have popped open.”
“What happened? Were you injured on the job?”
He clenched his jaw. “I was stabbed by a dirty cop Gage and I discovered was working for Hugh Jefferson.”
Mallory twisted her fingers together nervously. The architectural firm she worked for had been awarded the design contract for the Jefferson Project—fancy high-rise condos overlooking the Milwaukee River. She was the firm’s interior designer, and her boss, Rick Meyers, was the one who’d introduced her to Anthony Caruso.
Caruso had talked often to Hugh Jefferson. The mere memory of what she’d overheard made her stomach roll with nausea. “What are you saying? That you have proof Jefferson was involved with illegal activities?”
“Yeah. We have proof of how he was involved in a money-laundering scheme. But now he’s dead.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. Hugh Jefferson was dead? “Are you sure all this happened while I was making my way to the cabin?” She hated thinking she’d left Alyssa in danger.
“I’m sure.” Jonah’s tone was terse. “Jefferson’s yacht caught on fire, and while Gage and Alyssa managed to escape, he and his cohorts didn’t. All three of them died—Aaron Crane, the dirty cop, Hugh Jefferson and Eric Holden, the newly elected Milwaukee mayor. Well, technically, Holden died before he could be sworn into office.”
She was disappointed that he hadn’t mentioned
Caruso. Listening to Jonah talk about the Jefferson Project confirmed that everything she’d suspected all along was true. There hadn’t been some horrible mistake. Caruso really had sent that thug to kill her at Alyssa’s town house, hoping to silence her forever. And then Caruso had found her again, at Uncle Henry’s cabin. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m relieved to know Alyssa and Gage escaped. But why were they even on the yacht in the first place? What possessed Gage to put Alyssa in danger?”
“Gage didn’t put her in danger on purpose. In fact, he went to great lengths to keep her safe. But we didn’t know exactly who she was running from, because of her amnesia.”
She rubbed her temples, trying to make sense of what Jonah was saying. “I was the one they wanted to silence.” She felt sick at the thought she’d inadvertently put Alyssa in danger. “They must have thought she was me.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” Jonah said reassuringly. “Alyssa was working in the trauma room the night Councilman Schaefer was brought in with his stab wound. He told Alyssa that Jefferson was responsible. She believed him and reported the crime to Officer Crane, who happened to be working for Jefferson. He tried to kill her. More than once. If not for Gage’s help, he might have succeeded.”
Mallory shook her head, unable to process what he was saying. Wave after wave of regret battered her. She’d been so worried about her own well-being, especially after Wasserman followed her to Alyssa’s town house, that she’d never considered her sister might be in just as much danger. She’d left the urgent message—assuming Alyssa would drop everything to come out to meet her—then ditched her phone, worried that
Caruso had the means to track it. If only she and Alyssa had been able to talk to each other. They could have disappeared together.
“So now, Mallory, it’s your turn. We know why Alyssa was in danger, but we don’t know what happened to you. Did you stumble onto something you shouldn’t have? Did you find out about the money-
laundering scheme?”
“I don’t even know what money laundering is.” She kept her tone even with an effort.
“It’s taking money received from illegal activities and putting it into legal activities,” he explained, not willing to be distracted from his purpose. “You left a lot of blood on the floor of Alyssa’s town house, along with a blood-stained blouse.”
She shivered, remembering that night all too clearly.
“Mallory, are you listening to me? I can’t keep you safe unless you’re honest with me. Tell me the name of the man you’re running from. If you do, I’ll make sure the D.A. knows you cooperated with our investigation.”
She snapped her head up to glare at him. A flash of anger blurred her vision, forcing her to wrestle it back to maintain control.
“What do you mean you’ll convince the D.A. I’ve cooperated with the investigation? I’m not involved in anything illegal. I’m the victim here. Caruso’s thug, a guy named Kent Wasserman, followed me to Alyssa’s town house and tried to kill me!”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jonah said, his calm voice only fueling her annoyance. “But just a few hours ago, I was informed that Wasserman’s body was found in an alley not far from your condo, and your fingerprints are on the knife in his belly. The ME has deemed his death a homicide. As a result, there’s a warrant for your arrest.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised if the car had sprouted wings to fly. How could there possibly be a warrant out for her arrest? He was the one who’d tried to kill her! She’d fought with Wasserman, sure, but only in self-defense. She’d barely escaped. And she didn’t touch the knife.
At least, not that she remembered.
“I didn’t kill him,” she whispered, the images she’d tried to forget crowding in her mind. Somehow, someway, she had to make him believe her. “I swear to you, Jonah, I didn’t kill him. Don’t you see? I’m being framed for murder!”
Jonah’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything. And that was when she realized that Jonah Stewart hadn’t just come to Crystal Lake to help find her. He’d come to take her back to Milwaukee.
To arrest her for a crime she didn’t commit.
TWO
“Jonah, please. You have to believe me. I didn’t kill him!” Mallory fought to control the fear that began to constrict her throat.
“I guess it’s possible you’re being framed,” Jonah said slowly, in a tone laced with doubt. “But we’d have to prove it, which isn’t going to be easy. You have to tell me everything, Mallory, from the very beginning. I can’t help you if you hold back on me.”
For a moment she stared through the darkness at the trees passing in a blur outside her passenger-side window. She didn’t know if she could trust Jonah. What if she told him what she knew and he still arrested her? Caruso was a powerful man—she had no doubt he’d find a way to kill her even if she happened to be in jail. Yet if she didn’t tell him, Jonah would take her back to Milwaukee and arrest her for sure.
A no-win situation, either way.
She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I started dating Anthony Caruso a few months ago,” she admitted, avoiding his gaze.
“Anthony Caruso?” Jonah interrupted with a frown. “Who’s he?”
“He’s an Illinois senator. I’m not normally into the political scene, but when I met him, I liked him. He told me he was providing Hugh Jefferson with capital for his condo project.”
At the time, dating him had seemed harmless. Caruso had been older than most of the men she’d dated—thirty-nine to her twenty-seven—but he’d been charming so she’d figured, why not? Looking back, she wondered how she could have been so stupi
d.
“An Illinois senator,” Jonah repeated under his breath, as if he couldn’t believe it. “I recognize his name now. It’s been all over the news. He’s a big deal in Washington. Exactly how did you meet him?”
“My boss, Rick Meyer, introduced me to him at one of the meetings about the Jefferson Project.” She glanced away, not wanting to see the censure in his eyes. “I— Things moved pretty fast. He literally swept me off my feet. Bought me gifts, took me to fancy restaurants and even flew me to New York to see a Broadway show.” She felt like an idiot now, knowing she’d been blinded by the wealth. And power. Anthony Caruso wielded a lot of power—more than she could have possibly suspected. “I never, in a million years, suspected he would get involved with anything illegal.”
She forced herself to look at Jonah. Sure enough, his eyebrows levered upward in surprise. “Caruso himself is involved? Seriously? Are you absolutely certain?”
He didn’t believe her, and that hurt. Why didn’t anyone take her seriously? She tilted her chin stubbornly. “Yes, I’m sure. I was leaving his office suite in the hotel after we’d had lunch but I forgot my purse. I went back in quietly so I wouldn’t disturb him. I saw him standing out on his terrace by himself, talking on his cell. He sounded very angry. I paused and overheard him telling the person on the other end of the line to do whatever was necessary to make sure the condo project went forward as planned because he had too much riding on it.”
“That statement isn’t necessarily incriminating,” Jonah pointed out. “Could be interpreted as having money on the line, which isn’t illegal. Anyone would be upset with losing money on a business deal.”
“I know. But then he said, ‘My sources tell me Schaefer was alive when he hit the E.R., so you better make sure our guy on the inside convinces the public his death was the result of gang violence.’” She remembered how horrified she’d felt in that moment, realizing the senator was actually discussing how to cover up a murder. “I retraced my steps, trying to sneak away, but I think he must have heard me. I caught a glimpse of his face as he came in from the terrace just as I closed the door behind me. I ran down the hall and avoided the elevator, choosing the stairs instead. I managed to get out of the building, but I couldn’t go home. I kept calling Alyssa’s place, but she didn’t pick up. I eventually went to her town house, using my key to get in. I had this crazy idea of borrowing her identity, but then I heard someone at the door and assumed it was my sister. Kent Wasserman barged in, holding a knife. We’d briefly met a few weeks earlier through Anthony. I was shocked to see him at Alyssa’s and knew he must have followed me. He lunged but I managed to get away, taking him down in the process. He fell on his knife.”
“You took him down?” Doubt radiated from his tone.
She narrowed her gaze. “Try me.” She didn’t bother explaining she’d been training in martial arts since her senior year in high school—specifically, since the night of the assault that had changed her life forever. She had absolutely no intention of explaining the private horror of her past to Jonah.
Besides, her past was old news. She’d moved beyond the assault, and she’d get herself out of this mess, as well. If necessary, she’d figure out something on her own. But she wasn’t going to allow any man to hold her helpless ever again. That included all of the thugs
Caruso sent out after her.
And Jonah Stewart, who was perhaps the most dangerous of all.
* * *
Jonah tried to mask his surprise. First, he found it hard to believe a state senator could actually be calling the shots in the Jefferson Project. And then of course there was the rest of Mallory’s story. Including the part where she claimed to have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. But she didn’t hedge the way people sometimes did when they were lying, and he found himself believing her.
“That’s a very serious allegation, Mallory. You’d better be sure about this. Anthony Caruso carries a lot of weight on Capitol Hill. There’s been talk about him being a candidate for vice president, or even for the presidency itself in a few years. I don’t think many people are going to believe your word over his.”
“I know.” She twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture. “That’s the reason I ran. But I promise you, I’m not lying about this. I know what I heard.”
“I believe you. But we need proof, Mallory. If we’re accusing a state senator of being involved, we need hard-core proof.”
“I know,” she murmured. Her face was grim and she sighed heavily. “Up until that point, I had no idea Anthony was involved in anything shady. I’d been dating him for almost a month and I never heard so much as an inkling of anything dangerous. It was a total fluke that I heard that snippet of his conversation at all. But I knew Councilman Schaefer had been stabbed so it didn’t take much to put two and two together.”
Jonah nodded, discovering he didn’t particularly care to hear about how she’d dated the guy.
Not that Mallory’s personal life was any of his concern.
He told himself to get a grip. “Okay, so you left
Alyssa’s town house after being attacked by Wasserman and escaped to Crystal Lake. Then what?”
She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “Then nothing. I left Alyssa a message to meet me and hunkered down to wait.”
“Anything out of the ordinary happen before tonight?” he persisted. “Anything at all to indicate Caruso had found you?”
“No. Not until I heard the guy sneaking through the cabin.”
If nothing else, the guy in the ski mask helped reinforce her story about overhearing Caruso’s conversation. There was no other reason for Caruso to try to kill her.
Unless there was far more to the story than she was telling him.
He didn’t want to think Mallory may have been a part of the crime, but he couldn’t totally discount the idea, either.
“Why didn’t you go to the police with your story?”
In the darkness he saw her scowl. “Because Anthony referred to our guy on the inside, making it difficult to know who to trust. Besides, I was waiting for Alyssa to meet me at the cabin. I guess I hoped we’d work together to figure out the next step.”
Grudgingly, he had to admit her instincts were right. It was actually a good thing that Mallory hadn’t gone to the police or Crane might have tried to silence her, too, the way he’d gone after Alyssa. “Do you remember anything else?”
“No. I wish I did. I wish I had proof I could simply hand over to you.” She looked totally dejected. He found himself wanting to reassure her, to make her feel better.
Which was totally ridiculous.
Getting too close to someone in the case was unacceptable. Hadn’t he learned that the hard way? It only took a fraction of a second to bring the image of his partner’s widow to mind.
He’d failed his partner, Drew Massey, when he’d lowered his guard with a young drug runner. And when Drew’s wife, Elaine, had accused him of causing Drew’s death, he couldn’t defend himself. Because she’d been right. Thanks to the eyewitness’s cell-phone video, the whole world had been able to see how he’d failed his partner. Including his fiancée. Cheryl had wasted no time in leaving him.
“I’m sorry, Jonah,” she said, interrupting his tumultuous thoughts. “I wish now that I had paid more attention.”
“Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’m not planning to stop for a while yet.”
“I’ll try,” she murmured.
She didn’t sleep, but she didn’t talk, either. He was oddly relieved to discover Mallory wasn’t the type to fill a silence with small talk.
No matter how much he told himself to keep an open mind, deep down, he believed Mallory’s story. For the past twenty-four hours, he’d been hoping that finding her would be the key to blowing his case wide open. But overhearing a snippet of a conversation wouldn’t get him anywhere close to pressing charges. If they couldn’t corroborate Mallory’s story, they had nothing.
Wh
ich meant not only was Mallory’s life still in danger, but he was right back to square one.
* * *
Mallory yawned so wide her jaw popped. She scrubbed at her gritty eyes, trying to force herself to stay awake. Finally, just as dawn was breaking over the horizon, Jonah pulled into a motel with a flashing vacancy sign out front.
“Where are we?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t even noticed the name of the town.
“Glen Hollow,” Jonah replied as he shut off the car and opened his door. “Population less than nine hundred.”
She slid out of the passenger seat. “Honestly, as long as there’s running water and a shower, I don’t care how many people live here.”
He flashed a tired grin, and she was struck by how handsome Jonah was. He wasn’t overly tall, just barely six feet in her estimation, but he was muscular. And she liked the way he wore his dark hair short. He opened the back door and rummaged around in a duffel bag. Before she could ask what he was doing, he stripped off his old shirt, revealing the blood-stained dressing covering the right side of his chest, before he pulled a black T-shirt over his head.
She turned away, feeling light-headed but unsure whether it was the blood or Jonah causing the sensation.
Must be the blood because she was immune to handsome men. She only dated men on her terms, determined to be the one in control. Never again would she let her guard down.
“Wait for me in the car,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t want the clerk to be able to identify you.”
Unable to argue with his logic, she nodded and slid back into the passenger seat. It was only a few minutes before he returned.
“Here.” He handed her a key. “We have adjoining rooms, numbers ten and twelve.”
