Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 1 - 4

by Lisa Renee Jones

  There was just one lose end. Tiffany Snow. What had she wanted with that list? He didn’t like unknowns. He didn’t like being a victim. And he didn’t like letting himself do what he swore he wouldn’t do again. Get fucked. People got killed when you were that sloppy.

  He was going to find Tiffany Snow. She could count on it. He was…

  Part 1

  One week later….

  Chapter One

  “Don’t get on that elevator.”

  Blake Walker ignored the warning spoken into his cell phone headset by fellow Walker Security pal Kyle Suther, and stepped onto said San Francisco elevator. He punched the button for floor twenty-five. “Too late,” he replied, watching the doors close. “I’m already inside.” And headed straight to a 4:30 meeting with Milo Mendez, the CEO of Newport Industries; a massive holding company that looked legit but laundered money for the Alvarez Cartel.

  “Damn it,” Kyle cursed, “I know how badly you want Alvarez, but this meeting is trouble. Get off now.”

  “Why?”

  “Get off and then we’ll talk.”

  “Translation,” Blake drawled cautiously, certain he was being monitored. “You don’t think I’ll approve of your explanation.”

  “Because you never listen to reason.”

  “Try me.”

  Kyle made a frustrated sound and caved. “I just tapped into the company security feed. Tiffany Snow is sitting at the desk outside Mendez’s office.”

  Tension shot through Blake’s body at the name of the dark-haired beauty who, only a week before in Denver, had fucked him, drugged him, and stolen a file that was supposed to prove he was trustworthy to the cartel. “Tiffany Snow is here? In San Francisco?”

  “That’s right. You only thought you covered up the mess she created. She set you up and you’re headed to your own funeral.”

  Blake’s mind raced with the real possibility Kyle was right, but he quickly discarded it for logic. If Tiffany Snow was working for Mendez after stealing documents meant for the cartel, then she’d double-crossed them in Denver. That meant she had as much to lose by exposing what had happened in Denver as he did. That didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous, or working for one of the cartel’s competitors, but she wasn’t working for Mendez or Alvarez either.

  “I can handle this,” Blake finally replied. “I’m staying the course.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking about this woman, think again. It’s too big a coincidence that you were just put on a plane to San Francisco from Denver with no notice, and she’s there waiting on you.”

  “I’m doing this.”

  The elevator dinged and Kyle cursed, clearly having heard it. “Damn it, Blake, stay alive. If your brothers find out I helped you go after Alvarez and let you get killed, we’ll both be dead.”

  “Thanks for the concern,” Blake said dryly, “but don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere but to my meeting.” The doors slid open and Blake ended the call before stepping onto the shiny white and gray tile of the sleek triangle-shaped lobby.

  “Nice to see you’ve arrived safely, Mr. Wright.” the pretty twenty-something blonde behind the massive oval-shaped desk greeted him, using his alias. He’d never met her but he was clearly expected by her and, no doubt, Ms. Tiffany Snow. The woman waved him to his left. “Straight down the hallway. It leads directly to Mr. Mendez’s private offices.”

  The fictional character he’d carefully crafted as Blake Wright, down to a birth certificate, and a name close enough to his own to make any slip-up seem an accident, was arrogant, an egomaniac who would expect to be escorted to his destination.

  Appropriate to that character, Blake shot her an annoyed look and headed the direction she’d indicated. No doubt Mendez was trying to downplay Blake’s importance, to shoot down his confidence despite a fictional track record of being good enough at neutralized threats of a lawful affiliation to those who lived unlawfully, to make him worth pursuing. What Mendez didn’t know, but soon would, was that the only thing Blake planned to neutralize was him and his Kingpin boss, and no one, not even pretty little Tiffany Snow, was going to get in the way of making that happen.

  ***

  He was tall, dark, and deadly if she’d ever seen a man who fit the description. Impossible to forget. Impossible to avoid apparently, too, since he was here in San Francisco where she was, and not in Denver where he was supposed to be.

  Kara Tatum (AKA Tiffany Snow and Kara Michaels) watched Blake Wright saunter towards her desk in a loose-legged swagger, his jeans and a leather jacket and all that thick raven hair tied at his nape, giving him a rough, tough, edgy look that was sinfully hot. And somehow, some way, she managed to remain cool and composed on the outside when she was a volcanic eruption of fire and ice on the inside. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d found out about his arrival an hour before and had time to strategize his impending visit; she was far from ready for another dose of this man.

  This man. No. This monster. He was one of them, part of the cartel, and yet a week before, he’d managed to stir something inside her he shouldn’t have. Made her want him when she should do nothing but hate him. Made her hesitate to drug him when she should want to kill him. And that was far more dangerous than the knowledge he possessed that could destroy her and people she loved, because it made him a weakness she couldn’t afford.

  Kara pushed to her feet to greet him, putting the persona of a cold-hearted woman that she wished she could be into place. Then maybe the torment she’d seen in this man’s eyes when they’d been stripped naked wouldn’t have made him feel human.

  “You look surprised,” Kara commented as he stopped in front of her desk, giving him a cool-as-cucumber lift of her lips. “I do love surprising people.”

  He towered over her petite five foot three height by close to a foot, his rich brown eyes fixing intensely on her. He was big and broad, and she wished she didn’t know just how deliciously carved to muscular perfection he was beneath his clothes.

  Long seconds ticked by without him speaking, his hot stare sliding over her pale pink silk blouse to the top of her black fitted skirt, then lifting, the look in his eyes telling her he remembered all too well what was beneath her clothing. Heat spread over her shoulders and down her arms, and her mouth went dry.

  One of his dark brows arched and he finally broke the silence. “Surprise? Is that what you call this impromptu meeting?”

  “Were you expecting me?” she challenged.

  He studied her for a second, maybe two, that felt like another eternity. “Were you expecting me? That’s the real question now, isn’t it?”

  “I have you on the schedule, Mr. Wright.”

  “Mr. Wright? Aren’t we a little beyond formality?”

  “No,” she said tightly. “We aren’t. We were business.”

  “Business?”

  “Richter, the head of the Denver division used to work here,” she explained. “He wanted to know you could stumble and cover your tracks before he recommended you to my boss.”

  “And he asked you to help?”

  “He was certain you’d recognize his staff.”

  “And Mendez knows about this?”

  She shook her head. “It’s our secret.”

  His eyes glinted, narrowed, and he moved suddenly, leaning forward, his hands on her desk. He was close, so close she could smell the spicy, wonderful scent of him. “Why would you, or Richter, keep this our secret?”

  “I don’t know. I just know he told me to keep it a secret.”

  “For leverage over me.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And what did you get out of this?”

  “A bonus.”

  Anger crackled off of him. “So he told you to fuck me, then fuck me over, and you did it.” He paused. “For money.”

  Kara had been confronted, she’d been in awkward positions, but not since her rookie days had she felt rattled like she did now. “I did my job.”

  “Which included fucking m
e.”

  Kara flinched, and not just because it was part of the character she’d created. She’d never meant to sleep with him. She just…had.

  “Did it include fucking me?” he demanded softly, and the tightness in his voice was more an order than any shout would have been.

  “I made my own choices,” Kara rasped out, and though she needed him to believe her, to see her like a victim as he had the night they’d met, she wanted him to believe her as well. The idea of this man hating her answer, and her, bothered her. Lord help her, he was the enemy and she cared what he thought. She was in big trouble.

  “And you decided to ensure you got your big payday any way necessary, even if it meant getting naked.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No,” she whispered urgently before she could stop herself. “That’s not how it happened. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It just…it felt…necessary.”

  “Fucking me was necessary,” he repeated flatly.

  “Yes.” Her mouth was dry all over again, and good lord, she was dizzy remembering all the delicious things his mouth had done to her. “Necessary.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Mr. Wright knew each other, Kara.”

  Kara jerked backward at the sound of Mendez’s voice, but not before she saw the slight narrowing of Blake’s eyes. And damn it, she’d let him see her cards. Blake knew just how nervous she was at the idea of Mendez discovering what she’d done in Denver. He’d assume it was because Mendez was a monster, but he’d still have that leverage over her when she’d tried to make this secret leverage for her use instead.

  “We were just getting properly acquainted,” Blake drawled lazily, holding her stare a beat before his attention slid to Mendez.

  Kara’s stomach knotted at the way Blake had left the door open to tell Mendez he’d met her in Denver. “I was just about to let you know he’d arrived,” she added, cutting her gaze to Mendez and the amused twist on his brutal mouth. Beneath the man’s mid-thirties dark good looks and perfectly fitted designer suit was a tyrant who’d kill you at the snap of his fingers.

  “I’m sure you were,” he replied, and flicked Blake a look. “Join me, Mr. Wright. We have much to discuss.”

  Unlike everyone else around Mendez, Blake didn’t immediately jump at his command. For several beats his eyes lingered on her face before he finally stepped away from her desk. A slow trickle of air slid from Kara’s lips, tension easing from her body, at her escape from his too-knowing, too-compelling, attention. Compelling. Yes. He was compelling in all possible ways. Wickedly, intensely, hotly compelling. He demanded her attention, his presence resonating with the woman in her in a way no other man ever had. This was what every woman wanted to feel for a man, but thought she never would. And if she got lucky enough to have it happen to her, she wanted him to be the right man, a good man. In Kara’s case, this man she was responding to was without a doubt the wrong man.

  After an eternity seemed to pass, when it was merely seconds, the door behind her opened and shut. Kara cast a glance over her shoulder, ensuring she was alone. Then, and only then, did she slump over her desk, letting her long, dark hair cover her face, thankful no one could see her reaction to the man who’d just taken her by storm all over again. Blake not only put her on edge, he set her on fire and left her breathless. He was dangerous to her agenda, her big picture. Her reason for everything she’d done the past six months. Everything she’d given up. Everything she’d left that mattered. He was a weakness she couldn’t afford and a problem she had to deal with quickly and efficiently before he destroyed everything she’d been working for.

  Chapter Two

  Blake followed Mendez into his office, the lingering scent of Tiffany Snow, or Kara, or whatever the hell her name was, spiraling through his nostrils and heating his limbs. The woman had drugged him and almost destroyed his reputation with the cartel, and still she had him hot and bothered and more than a little distracted. Not so much, though, that he hadn’t seen the fear in her eyes when Mendez had assumed they’d known each other. Because she’d helped Richter for cash and her boss would see that as disloyal? Or because she was one big secret she didn’t want revealed?

  Pausing midway inside the office, Blake watched Milo Mendez round his massive cherry wood desk, a picture of greed and arrogance in the way he moved, the way he wore his fine silk grey suit. And most definitely in the glint in his dark eyes as he settled into a leather chair and claimed the position of power in the room.

  Not about to give him that power, Blake feigned interest in his surroundings, not the man, inspecting the wall of windows to his left and the leather couch and chair to his right with exaggerated interest. “Nice office.”

  “Sit,” Mendez ordered, indicating a visitor’s chair, his tone etched with irritation.

  Out of the blue, as they often came, a flashback of his Whitney lying in a pool of blood ripped through Blake, and carved out his insides. Mendez might not have pulled the trigger, but he was deep inside the wallet of the man who had. It was all Blake could do not to rip him from behind his desk and beat him senseless. His fingers flexed, curling into his palms, and the twitchy feeling that he used fast cars and fast woman to escape crackled along his nerve endings like raw electricity.

  Silently Blake reminded himself that pleasure was always sweeter after being denied, and his revenge over Whitney’s death was the only pleasure that had mattered for over two years. Mendez’s beating was coming and Blake was damn sure going to enjoy the hell out of it.

  Blake ambled toward the visitor’s chair and dropped into the leather seat, schooling his features into a bored mask of indifference.

  “Thank you for joining me on such short notice,” Mendez offered cordially, like he had a truly cordial bone in his lowlife body.

  “Money talks and you made it worth my while,” Blake replied, referencing the wad of cash he’d been handed before he’d agreed to take this trip.

  “And as long as you’re worth my while, I always will. As for why you are here. Unfortunately, my head of security has failed to address a critical problem I’d asked him to handle. He’s now made an untimely departure, leaving me with the need to hire someone competent to address my problem.”

  Blake read between the lines. He was dead. “If he failed you, then I’d say the departure wasn’t untimely at all.”

  Mendez gave him a quick incline of his head, approval glinting in his eyes. “Indeed. Nevertheless, I still have my problem and I still need it fixed.”

  “I’m contract only. I’m not looking for a staff job.”

  “Good, because I’m offering you money for solving a problem, not a full-time job.” He didn’t wait for a reply. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Newport operates several national restaurant chains. One of those chains runs what I’ll call a special inventory distribution and it’s come to my attention that some of those orders have been shorted. I need you to find out who’s behind it and make them go away.”

  In other words, someone was skimming drugs and selling them on the side and Mendez wanted Blake to put a stop to it. Worked for him. In fact, it had a limited downside. He simply took down one drug dealer to get to another. “How many locations are involved?”

  “The restaurant has two hundred nationally, but the supply chain starts right here in California.”

  Blake read between the lines. “And you don’t know if that’s where the problem originates.”

  Mendez’s expression tightened. “Our dearly departed head of security couldn’t seem to find a problem anywhere, despite my knowledge otherwise.”

  “So I’m starting from scratch with a national chain of employees as suspects.” Blake whistled. “That’s a big project.”

  “I thought you were the best at what you do?” Mendez challenged.

  “I am,” Blake assured him, “which is exactly why I’m committed to a high-paying client in Europe next week. There’s no way I can take this on for you right now. When I get back—”

  “I need
this handled now,” Mendez snapped, his anger palpable. He didn’t expect to be turned down, and that was the idea. Blake wanted Mendez chasing him, desperate to hire him.

  Blake slid lazily down further into his chair, draping an arm on the back. “Which is why I’m not your man.”

  Mendez’s eyes hardened, his expression all sharp lines and tension. He steepled his fingers together, fixing Blake in a stare meant to intimidate. He was pissed. It was all Blake could do not to smile.

  “I was told you were eager to earn our business,” Mendez ground out tightly.

  “I have been,” Blake assured him, “but while your organization had me jumping through hoops to prove I’m worthy, the guy in Europe was writing me a check.”

  “So it’s all about money to you?”

  Blake arched a brow. “What else is there?”

  “Power.”

  “Money is power in my book.”

  Mendez’s jaw clenched and unclenched before he abruptly grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled a number on it, and flipped it around for Blake to see it. “Is that enough power for you?”

  Lazily, Blake pushed off the back of the chair and leaned forward to study the six-figure number. “It’s a start.”

  Mendez’s eyes glinted like black ice. “How much will it take?”

  “Add another 100k to that number and California is my new European vacation.”

  “If you let me down—”

  “I won’t.”

  Mendez considered Blake a moment. “Half the money now and half on the resolution of my problem, which I expect to include body bags.”

  Blake held up his hands. “I’ll identify your problems. Disposal is on you.”

  “That’s a hefty price you demanded for limited services.”

  “I’m guessing it’s small compared to how much you’re losing in stolen product.”