“You’re amazing.” He cradled her against his side and rested his chin on the top of her head.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
Trevor placed his hands on either side of her face and raised her head until he met her eyes. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, her eyes dark and shiny in the dim light.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a cop?”
She sounded shy and a little hurt. He sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Ketra rolled away from him. She felt around at the bottom of the bed. Seconds later she pulled on his boxers and t-shirt. The shirt hung to her knees.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“No. I just….” She shrugged.
He understood her sudden shyness, but at least she didn’t plan to leave. He didn’t want her to leave. “You look adorable in my clothes.”
“I should go home and get my own.”
“Do you want to go home?”
After a couple seconds of nibbling on her lower lip, she answered. “Not really.”
“Then get back under the covers.”
A few more seconds passed before she scurried back into bed. He pulled the sheet across her shoulders and folded her against his chest. In his experience, women liked to talk after sex. Even though what he really wanted to do was turn his computer on and research the Hamiltons, he searched for something safe to talk about. Something they might share that would leave her wanting to come back to him for comfort and companionship. And more sex. He definitely wanted more sex. But he sensed that tonight might’ve been a fluke, a lapse of judgment due to fear of the storm. Please don’t let her have regrets in the morning.
She interrupted his contemplation. “So why are you here?”
He couldn’t tell her the whole story, but he could provide a simplified version of the truth. “I can’t discuss a case when there’s an ongoing investigation.”
When she opened her mouth to object, he continued, “But I’ll tell you the basics. But it must remain between us.” He paused and took a deep breath, waiting for her promise before going on.
He snickered. “It’s actually funny…when you think about it.” He sobered, not sure if she’d appreciate the irony of the similarity of their current situations. “I needed a place to hide out. Sound familiar?”
“I have a good reason.”
“So do I.” He traced her jawline with his index finger. “You cannot repeat a word of this to anyone, not even Rocky. Got it?” She nodded. “I shot another officer in the line of duty. I should’ve held my fire until I knew his intentions. But I didn’t. I just reacted and took the shot. The problem is, there’s no evidence to support what I saw, so it looks like I screwed up. The only thing I’ve got is my word, which doesn’t seem to mean anything anymore because people need someone to blame.”
“You shot another cop?”
“A dirty cop,” he defended. At least he hoped it had been a dirty cop.
She rolled out of his arms and sat cross-legged on the bed facing him.
“What’d you see?”
He leaned on one elbow, opposite her. “A guy wearing regulation law enforcement gear took aim at my partner and pulled the trigger. We identified ourselves and we were wearing our government issued gear—uniforms, vest, badges, you name it—all regulation. There was no reason for him to shoot my partner. There’s no way either of us would have been mistaken for a bad guy. When I saw the bastard take aim, I fired at him. It was instinct. I had no idea why he was targeting Noah, but he was. So I shot him.”
“What happened to Noah?”
Trevor linked his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Shadows flirted with flickering light from the dwindling fire in the other room. In all likelihood, he’d never forget the sight of Noah’s face against the hot tar, blood pooling beneath his jet black hair.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Ketra whispered. “I understand.”
Trevor released a mighty exhalation. “It was touch and go at first. He’ll be okay. Denny, my boss, got to talk to him finally, but Noah didn’t see the guy who shot him. Which, of course, doesn’t help my case. It’s my word against a dead man’s. And everyone knows, dead men tell no tales.”
He sat up to face her. “The guy I shot was with Glendale PD. He had no business being at our operation. On top of that, unbeknownst to us, FBI was also there. They claim they didn’t know we, or the guy I shot, were there until the shooting started. And, of course, no one on their team saw Noah get shot either. All making me look like the bad guy.”
“You didn’t know the FBI was there?”
“No.” Reminding himself that she wasn’t the source of his frustration, he lowered his voice. “There shouldn’t have been anyone scoping out that building except us.”
Ketra stretched out on her side and curled her fists under her chin. “Where were you? What were you doing?”
“We’d been investigating this operation for a long time. A big-time white-collar crime organization at a company called Southwestern National. Money’s been disappearing from their coffers. We were checking into some of the employees, monitoring their routines, spending habits, et cetera.
“We’d been working with an undercover guy named Ace. Ace got wind of a robbery being staged at Southwestern.”
“Staged? Like insurance fraud?
“We suspected embezzlement and believed it was linked to a bigger operation. We had the place staked out, hoping to find the person, or persons, responsible for stealing money. We also hoped to find out who the money was intended for.”
“You were going to follow them?”
“That was the plan. Noah and I were concealed on two sides of the building, watching both doors. This guy, the cop I shot, walked up to the door. We thought we had our man, until we identified him as a cop. It didn’t make sense. I went a little closer. I tried to stay concealed, but he spotted me and drew his weapon. That’s when Noah yelled for him to freeze. He didn’t. He spun around toward Noah and pulled the trigger. I fired two shots at the guy and the next thing I know, the place was swarming with Feds.”
Ketra frowned. “You didn’t see anyone else when you were watching the place?”
“No. I don’t know how we didn’t see them.”
“How did they not see you either?”
He troweled his fingers through his hair. “Maybe they did. Maybe they think me and Noah were in on it.”
“But, how would they know about the staged robbery?”
“The only thing that makes any sense is that they got the same tip we did.”
Ketra scooted closer and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You think…Ace…?”
He breathed in the fruity floral scent of her hair. It wasn’t exactly pillow talk, but he was glad she’d cuddled closer. “I doubt it. Denny trusts Ace to a fault. We think whoever told Ace about the ‘robbery’ knew he was working for us and wanted us at the scene that night.”
“Someone set you up?”
“Or someone—not the thief—wanted us to catch him in the act.”
“That means more than one person had to know about the robbery attempt. Do you think someone at Southwestern knew they were being investigated and was trying to help—anonymously?”
Trevor dragged his fingers through his hair. “Maybe. Southwestern National is a big time construction company. They have regional offices all over the country. They build office complexes, casinos, shopping malls, that kind of big. Corporate headquarters no doubt has a massive payroll. But the office in Phoenix is quite small. It’d be real easy to track the employees.
“Someone from another office could be the main perpetrator. There could be an accomplice in the regional office, someone whose job it is to unlock the back door and ensure money gets put in a specific location. That person may not even know they
’re aiding and abetting.”
“Wow. That sucks.”
“Yeah. That’s what we were trying to find out. We don’t know how many people are involved. And the appearance of a cop, who had no business being there, suggests that someone in law enforcement is probably involved.”
He closed his eyes and tried to find answers in the blackness. Why? Why was Sean Glaskel, a Glendale PD officer, there? Why did he shoot Noah? How did the Feds know about their sting operation?
“Is it normal for companies like that to keep large sums of money laying around?”
Ketra’s voice, sweet and inquisitive, blasted through his mental interrogation. “I wouldn’t think so. Especially since embezzling rarely involves actual cash. It’s usually a tangled mess of double books. Siphoned money gets re-directed from the company’s bank to an employee’s bank account. But if the money in question was meant to pay off someone, for some kind of expensive favor or blackmail, that would require an exchange of actual cash money.”
“You think someone working for the construction company is stealing money to pay off a blackmailer?”
Trevor worked his arm under Ketra’s back and pulled her closer. Warm and soft, she felt heavenly in his arms. It felt natural and right to hold her, like he had a Ketra-sized hole in his soul that only she could fill.
“Based on our investigation to date, if in fact there even was supposed to be a robbery that night—that hasn’t been confirmed yet—the money had to have been intended for someone who’s desperate for cash. As opposed to receiving a large deposit made directly into their bank account.”
“That sounds like blackmail to me. Isn’t that what they always say on TV? Bring a million dollars in small unmarked bills.”
“Well, blackmail does make the most sense in his case, since we’re talking cash. None of Southwestern’s employees have huge bank accounts, have made bigger than normal deposits, or have unusual banking practices. Although if someone’s been skimming for a long enough period of time, a few dollars here and there wouldn’t be obvious.”
“But you haven’t ruled out embezzlement?”
“We haven’t ruled out anything. Maybe someone from corporate found out that someone from the local office was skimming and they demanded a large sum of cash to keep quiet. Or maybe someone is being threatened or coerced to do something illegal and the money is to ensure their continued cooperation.”
Ketra was quiet for a minute. He thought perhaps her curiosity had been assuaged. “Do you think maybe the local guy was tired of being threatened so he gave information to Ace to expose the person behind the threats?”
“Could be. But how did they know Ace was working for the cops?”
Her interest in this case reignited his sense of helplessness. He wanted answers same as she did, and he wanted them soon. He hated waiting for the Feds and IA to do what he should be doing and could do better if given the chance. In fact, he could be doing something right now, exploring the possible connection between Southwestern and Brian Hamilton, if she’d stop talking and go to sleep.
But there’s no way he’d leave her side while she was wrapped around him like the peel on a banana. He couldn’t risk breaking the fragile strand of trust that they’d created tonight, trust that had touched his heart like a delicate spider web. Their intimate time together was too precious to terminate for any reason. Patience and a willingness to answer all her questions were essential at this point in their tenuous relationship. When she succumbed to sleep, he’d go to work.
“I’m guessing whatever’s happening there goes much deeper than what we’re seeing,” he said. “Maybe the person siphoning money needs a traffic ticket or twelve excused. Or maybe his daughter needs a new kidney and he wants her name moved to the top of the donor recipient list.”
Her fingers drew lazy circles on his torso, igniting passion again. He squirmed. If she didn’t stop soon he’d follow his impulse and bury himself inside her again.
“You’ve got to be talking lots and lots of money,” she mused. “How does that kind of cash disappear with no one noticing?”
He put his hand on top of hers and pressed her palm to his chest. Her unintentional foreplay needed to stop. Though it would give them both great pleasure, her inexperienced body didn’t need another round of sex tonight.
“Smart people, devious people, double books, money laundering, extortion, all that fun stuff.” He turned to face her and grinned. “But in this case, someone did notice, maybe two or three someones, and now we’ve got a mess on our hands.”
Ketra sighed. “Sounds complicated.”
“I told you it was.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “But it keeps me employed. Well, it used to anyway. It might not any more if Denny can’t prove the dead guy is a bad cop.”
She closed her eyes. He waited for her breathing to even out.
“You still didn’t tell me why you’re here—at the Diamond D.”
“Because wherever someone kills a cop, people need someone to blame. Right now, that’s me. The media goes crazy over cop killings, double when another cop did it. Denny wanted me sequestered until the frenzy calms down. He’s trying to protect my reputation. I need to stay out of sight until the rumors and speculation die down.”
She yawned. “So, you’re hiding from the media?”
“Kind of funny isn’t it? We’re both here. Hiding.”
She made a small humming sound then rolled over and snuggled her bottom against his thigh. Not a position conducive to calming a raging male libido.
He rubbed slow circles on her back. When he was sure she had fallen asleep, he eased out of the bed and slipped into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Pulling the bedroom door halfway shut behind him, he added wood to the glowing coals in the fireplace and booted up his computer. It was a long shot, but not impossible that a link existed between Kyle’s incarceration and Brian Hamilton’s involvement with Southwestern. With any luck he’d uncover some clue to blow this case wide open.
He smiled at the realization that not only had the little hellion he’d been determined to hate earned his trust tonight, and vice versa, she very may have unwittingly provided the key to saving his career as well.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Clint and Milo arrived at dawn the next morning. Rocky sat atop his horse when Trevor stepped off his porch. The rain had ceased an hour or so ago, leaving soggy earth and dripping trees in its wake. Sunbeams crawled over the horizon, promising a warmer day than usual this time of year, a sharp contrast to the past couple days of unseasonably cool temperatures. Birds flitted and squirrels chattered in their quest for food as he hurried to the barn.
At some point during the night, with the stealth of a top-notch thief, Ketra snuck out of his bed. Her parting bothered him more than he cared to admit. For one thing, he hated waking up alone after a night of intimacy. In his opinion that somehow cheapened and degraded the special time spent together. Of greater significance, he prided himself on his ability to sense things. Her departure without detection made him question whether or not his skills and instincts may be waning.
“Saddle up,” Rocky said. “I’ve got to head to Flag around noon. I’d like to get the Fargos out of here before I leave.”
“I’ll be right with you,” Trevor said.
They spent the morning sorting and herding cattle through a maze of shoots with swinging gates and onto the Fargo trailer. The muddy ground and uncommon humidity hampered the horses, making them work harder than usual. Most were sweating profusely by the time the last animal was loaded.
“Dang this weather,” Rocky grumbled as they rode back to the barn.
“It’ll help dry up some of the swollen creeks.” Milo mopped sweat from his face and neck with a blue bandana.
The Fargos loaded their horses in their trailer. Rocky dismounted and handed his reins to Trevor. Several times throughout t
he morning he’d caught himself staring toward the covered arena. How had he missed the huge structure when he’d arrived? His mental state must have been worse than he realized.
“Take care now,” Rocky said as the Fargo brothers got into their rig. “Let me know if you need help branding. I’ll send some guys over.”
In the far reaches of his mind Trevor acknowledged their decline of the offer and the truck pulling away from the ranch.
“You’re gonna get a crick in your neck if you keep it cranked that far to the right.”
Trevor frowned at the amusement on Rocky’s face. His notable interest in the arena hadn’t gone unnoticed by the ranch owner.
“Why don’t you go on down there and spar with her for a while,” Rocky quipped. “You can ride along with me when I take Brooks to Ruth’s. Say hi to Dominic.”
Trevor tagged along beside Rocky to the main house. “I’ll stay here if it’s all the same with you.”
“Suit yourself,” Rocky said. “I told the guys to take the rest of the day off. They’ve worked hard. The county fair starts today. I image most of them will go and blow off some steam. We’ll start branding tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“You sure you don’t wanna ride along to Ruth’s? Silas will be here if Ket needs anything.”
“I think it’s a better idea for me to stick around here.” He moved closer to Rocky and lowered his voice. “Kyle’s out on parole.”
Rocky’s mouth gaped. “How’d you find out about that?”
“Ket told me. Last night.”
“She told you…the whole story?”
Trevor nodded.
“How’d she find out about the parole?”
“Her mom called her yesterday.”
Rocky scratched the underside of his chin. “She never said anything. I’m surprised Mary Jo didn’t call me.”
“Ket was pretty upset last night. That nasty storm didn’t help.”
On Common Ground Page 16
