"Someone's inside." MaryJo shifted, nearly dislodging the cap hiding a long fall of dark hair. "The porch was too shadowed to make out faces," she explained. "But an upstairs curtain just moved. Whoever it is, he's not cautious."
"Barnes-" he bellowed.
The expression in Mullaney's eyes made his stomach drop. "What?"
His tight smile held fury as Sean handed him binoculars. "Upstairs window— far right."
"Oh shit." Matt blinked. It wasn't possible.
"Who is it?" MaryJo nudged her dad.
"His girlfriend. . . hangin' out the window." Mullaney expelled a breath when Matt thrust the binoculars back, catching his ribs unaware.
Cursing, Matt lurched over the seat, heading for the rear door.
"Hold it. You can't go anywhere." Mullaney wrestled him to the floor of the van.
"She's-"
"You can't go stormin' in. You'll blow our cover— if Julie hasn't already."
He struggled against Pop's vice-like grip. "Dammit, let me up!" Twice the old man's size, Mullaney's wiry strength still had him pinned.
"You idiots are rockin' the van," MaryJo whispered.
"Dandridge— they'll kill her." Panic crashed over him. He had to get her out. Drawing a ragged breath, Matt searched for his glasses. Please God— not again. His mistake with Pam— Jesus . . . she'd died.
"We're goin' in," Mullaney muttered. "Just give me a minute to shift gears."
"This can't be good." Her grim warning halted conversation.
Mullaney groaned. "Now what?"
"Someone else." Her gaze concentrated on a second floor window. "Older lady— well-dressed."
Sean's face tightened with anger. "How the hell did she escape?"
"Dad— who is it?"
Matt ran a hand down his face in a futile attempt to regain control. "That would be my mother, Madeline."
***
Chapter 15
"Look at this place. You can't get good help anymore." Madeline ran a finger along the bureau, tsking as she trailed Julie from room to room.
Julie didn't respond as she rummaged through drawers. . . looking for what, she wasn't sure. Somehow, she'd expected the search to be easier. Open a desk drawer and find a file marked 'Drug-running: KTec'— clearly labeled and neatly organized. But she hadn't found anything in the old roll top downstairs. Receipts and bills. The only file with any papers contained real estate records. Nothing about her warehouse. Nothing about drugs.
How did real thieves manage so quickly? In a house this size— she'd need all day to search each room thoroughly.
"Here's the floozy's room, I'd wager."
Julie cracked up. "Do people still use that word?" Pausing to absorb her surroundings, she'd been so intent on trying to find something of substance, she hadn't bothered to notice details. The bureau was empty, except for lingerie. "Pretty skimpy."
Madeline sniffed. "Subtlety is dead."
"Maybe she's not here much."
"No, but she wants to be."
She shoved the lingerie back in the drawer. "Okay- I'll bite. How can you tell?"
Maddie pulled a dress from the closet. "See this?"
A slinky, black cocktail dress. Julie shrugged. "So?"
"Dressy shoes. . . beaded handbag. That's it. Not a good sign for her."
Another Maddie-ism she didn't understand. Stepping into the closet, she inhaled the cloying scent of perfume. "Hmm. . . I've smelled that before."
"It's Givenchy, dear. The real stuff is ridiculously expensive."
"You think it's fake?"
Sniffing again, she winced. "There's no nuance. This was designed to overwhelm." Waving her arm, Maddie left the closet. "These rooms plead for a decorator."
Julie felt lightheaded. The nauseating scent made it hard to breathe. Bending to straighten the shoes she'd bumped, a sense of familiarity washed over her. Puzzling over it a moment, the memory remained stubbornly out of reach.
With a snap of finality, Maddie closed the drawer she'd been rifling. "Here's my mental picture of this woman: tequila shots, a tattoo she seriously regrets . . . and at least one conviction for public indecency."
Julie crept to the windows, cautiously shifting the lace curtains to peek out. No flashing blue lights. No SWAT team taking up positions on the neighbor's roof. She released a nervous breath. Wandering into Ray's room, she discovered Madeline peering out the side window. Her pulse ricocheted into overdrive. "What?"
"Relax, dear. Just being careful." Maddie scowled at the mess on the dresser. "See? She wants permanence but he's resisting."
"What do you mean?" She eyed the scatter of cosmetics and jewelry.
"Dressy clothes in the spare room. Makeup and jewelry here. No jeans. Nothing comfortable." Madeline's laser-like gaze reminded her of Matt. "She's still on his terms."
Julie sighed "You lost me."
"I'm guessing— fifteen years younger." Madeline's gaze was triumphant. "This finally makes sense. She's eye candy."
She stilled. Sort of like the men she'd resorted to dating-
"To catch a man, you need to reel him in slowly. Let him run the line. Let him believe he can squirm off the hook. Before you know it, he's flopping around in the boat." Maddie's eyes sparked. "Bingo. Fish for dinner."
She smiled, remembering Matt's discussion about trout. "You know a lot about fishing."
"Husband two had a boat." Maddie didn't sound enthusiastic.
"So— her stuff everywhere makes him want her to move in?"
"Men never want that," she corrected. "She gets him subconsciously used to the idea."
"I guess I need fishing lessons." Julie stopped herself when she would have touched an earring.
"You're doing fantastic." Maddie straightened the duvet. "Matthew's already grabbed your line. He might tug a bit. . . but he's seriously hooked." She turned to face her. "All that remains is reeling him in."
She froze. "Mrs. Stanhope. . . we're n-not-" Unable to meet her gaze, she floundered. "I-I'm not . . . fishing for Matt."
"You don't have to." Her eyes sparked with cautious hope. "Matthew wants to be caught."
"How can you possibly know that?"
"I knew five minutes after meeting you." Her expression smug, she enjoyed the drama of her statement.
She'd have to let her down easy. "I know you'd like to see him married, but in this particular situation, that's not likely-"
"He called you Jules," she interrupted. "My son— the consummate professional— didn't call you Miss Kimball. Or Juliet. Or even Julie." She gave her arm a friendly squeeze. "My son thinks of you as Jules."
She didn't know whether to leap for joy or weep on the older woman's shoulder. "That doesn't mean-"
Her knowing gaze lasered in. "Do you care for my son, Juliet?"
"I- I do," she admitted, dragging in a breath. "But that doesn't mean-" She froze mid-sentence, a jagged fork of awareness scraping her spine. "What was that?"
A noise— downstairs. Her heart lurched into overdrive. Finger to her lips, she gestured to the window.
Maddie frowned. "I just checked." Then she heard it too. The unmistakable sound of the front door creaking. "Good grief."
Expecting fear in her eyes, instead she discovered a glint of excitement. Dear Lord— had she no idea of the danger? "Check the windows," she whispered. "We may need an escape route." At three stories up, it wouldn't be a fun one.
In the hall, Julie forced herself to move quietly while her brain screamed 'run'. Behind one door, she discovered stairs. The drafty, old mansion had a back stairway, but they could run straight into Dandridge down in the kitchen. The next door led to the attic. Their only remaining option was the window out to the back porch roof. Nearly obscured by a leafy maple, the incline suggested they wouldn't plunge to their deaths. Immediately.
Surveying the five foot drop to the rough shingles below, Maddie sighed. "I should've popped a few ibuprofin before we left."
***
"Where the hell are they?" The sprawling
house was nearly silent, save for creaks of age. Matt resisted the urge to shout Julie's name. He wanted this over. Now.
"Hang on. They won't come to any harm. While I'm here, I wanna look around." When his phone vibrated on his hip, Mullaney sighed. He shot Matt a look that chilled his blood. "Your girlfriend is a pain in my arse." He gazed longingly at the oak roll top in the library. All those glorious receipts— scraps that when placed together were pieces of a giant puzzle. Matt read his mind. The answer could be sitting right there.
"The girls are up on the roof out back. They must've heard us."
"The roof?" His voice strangled in his throat.
"Take it easy, son. I'll go pull 'em back in. Head out back in case Sheena the jungle queen decides to swing down from the tree."
Matt flew out the door, heart lodged firmly in his throat as he tripped down the overgrown path. What if they fell? His mother was too old for this. How would he tell Alyssa? Their mother was in a body cast because she fell off a friggin' roof? That she'd burglarized a man's home while investigating a triple homicide? And Julie-
He would throttle her.
Rounding the corner, he watched in horror as twenty feet up, Julie shimmied down the ancient drainpipe. When she stretched— to swing over to the maple, his vocal cords knotted in terror. Too late to stop her, he broke the Olympic sprinting record to reach her before she fell.
"Hold on," he ordered, as though wishing made it possible.
She startled at the sound of his voice, nearly losing her grip. "You?"
Matt experienced only fleeting comfort when Sean's arms locked around his mother, jerking her back through the window. Relief shuddered through him. His mother would live yet another day to annoy the hell out of him.
Julie was halfway between the second and first floor when the drainpipe moaned in protest. Her skirt tangled as it caught on the rusting, metal pipe. Matt ducked when one of her shoes hurtled down at him.
"Hurry, Jules." His chest constricted with fear. "The drainpipe-"
She scowled down at him. "We hadn't finished in there."
He blinked in disbelief. Clinging by her fingernails to the house she'd burgled, she dared lecture him? Only when she'd slid to within ten feet could he breathe again.
"Are you out of your mind?" She'd scared the living hell out of him. Now that she was safe, his fear torched to fury. "You seriously screwed up our plan."
"Your plan? This is just. . . like— last night. Did you. . . even listen?" Her anger came in gasps as she struggled to maintain her grip. Matt forgot to breathe when she released the straining gutter, dropping the last few feet to the ground. Staggering when she landed, his hands shot out to steady her.
"You knew— I wanted. . . to be here."
She'd just scaled down the side of a building. Covered in cobwebs, her legs scratched and bleeding. And Julie's sole focus remained on the argument.
"You lied," he ground out between clenched teeth.
Her eyes blazed. "You lied. I omitted."
"You two planned this." She would drive him mad with worry. How could he protect her if she kept disappearing?
"Trust works both ways. You've had mine— from the beginning."
The tremor in her voice left him unsettled. Standing before him, hands fisted, she was both angry and vulnerable.
"If you trusted me, you would let me help you," Matt corrected, taking a step closer. "Instead, you're convinced you have to do everything alone."
"I am alone. Once you catch your guy, you'll leave-"
Was that her true fear? Some of the tension left his shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere."
Her expression turned mutinous, despite eyes filling with tears. Somehow, he'd said the wrong thing— again.
"This morning I practically begged you-"
"Babe— I can't discuss this case. With anyone." Matt inched closer, but she shook her head.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
The finality of her words washed over him. "I trust you, Julie. It's everyone else I worry about."
"You've kept me in the dark— about my own life," she countered. "You— used me to get information. Hell— you even slept with me to get it."
The air left his lungs. "That's what you think of me?" Frustration grabbed him by the throat. Yet the misery in her eyes haunted him. "You have no clue what I want."
"You've had a dozen chances to confide in me." Tears streaming down her face, she turned away.
How had everything gone so wrong? His hand shook when he touched her. "Julie— people are dying. I can't let them get another shot at you."
"I'm not Pam." She jerked free. "I won't cower."
Heart plummeting, Matt went still. She knew— the whole ugly story. Knew he would likely fail her. "She died in my arms." His voice was wooden. Frozen. "You. . . don't know-"
"I know you're afraid," she countered. "But I can't be with someone who has so little faith in me."
"They're still out there— looking for you." A volcanic rush of guilt and frustration threatened to swamp him. An abyss of fear. If she kept taking chances, she would end up dead.
And where the hell would that leave him?
"I've never felt so useless," she confessed. "So— out of control of my own life."
"We're so close-" Agonized, he didn't care anymore. If a little information would keep her under wraps— he'd tell her anything. "Babe— give me some time."
She searched the ground for her shoe. When she crossed the yard, Matt's heart jack-hammered in his chest. Each step away from him made it increasingly difficult to breathe. He'd tried reason. Logic.
When she reached the garden gate, the last shred of his restraint shattered. In one stride, he caught her, pulling her back. "Dammit, Julie— I love you."
She froze. Though it wasn't the way he'd imagined saying those words, his shout momentarily halted her attempt to retreat as far from him as possible. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm scared, Jules. I'm afraid they'll find you before we find them."
Her eyes wide with shock, she stared at him for what seemed like forever, clearly unsure what to say. And Matt waited— hating the raw, exposed need he felt.
"No." She finally shook her head. "You'll say anything to make me cooperate-"
His hand shook when he placed his fingers over her lips. Her rejection would have been more than he could bear— but he'd seen the spark of hope in her eyes. Julie wanted to believe him. "I love you," he insisted. "And I know you care about me."
"Let me go." Her eyes were vividly green in a face gone pale.
"No. I love you," he repeated against her lips, brushing them softly with his.
Julie experienced a quick, paralyzing burst of fear. For the first time since the nightmare began, she realized she wouldn't awaken in her old life. If she survived, she would emerge changed. Her old self— the driven, insecure, do-everything-herself woman had buckled. Matt had allowed her to envision a future that didn't revolve around her father's legacy.
By lowering her guard— she'd fallen in love. Now, instead of the familiar ache of loneliness, she'd unwittingly exposed herself to the agony of heartbreak. She'd been ridiculously naive— to think she could dive in headfirst and surface without injury. But loving him meant chiseling away the wall she'd built around herself. The wall made her safe. If no one ventured in, she couldn't be hurt. But Matt had scaled the wall. He'd shown her the possibilities. A life filled with family and noise and joy.
And if he changed his mind?
Lightheaded with fear, she took a step back. "Work the investigation however you want. I'm out."
"I'm not leaving, Jules." Matt's gaze never wavered— his conviction seeming to strengthen. But Agent Barnes was fantastic at his job. Given time, he'd convince her of anything.
"I'm through talking. And I won't love someone who has so little faith in me."
"You already do."
The tortured expression in his eyes would only weaken her resolve. Instead, Julie turned away, drown
ing under a crashing wave of misery. "Everyone leaves," she whispered.
"Yo, Matt!"
Startled by Mullaney waving from the upstairs window, they turned. "Get up here. Finn's on the horn."
Matt hesitated, then pointed to the van parked a block away. "The white van," he directed. "MaryJo is there. Wait for me."
Heart heavy, she nodded. Matt kissed her again before steering her to the walkway. "Be careful."
Shoving her foot into the shoe, she hobbled through the gate. Facing Matt in the confined quarters of a surveillance van was the last thing she wanted. Battered and bruised, her only desire was home— her cold, empty apartment where she could attempt to piece her life back together. If she ever stopped crying.
If not for her tears, Julie would have seen the SUV approaching from the opposite direction. She slowed for the obstruction in her path, the blacked-out windows making the vehicle appear sinister.
"Miss Kimball— is that you?"
Startled, Julie heard a warning blast from the van's horn at the same moment.
"Where you headed?"
A wave of relief followed the jolt of recognition before Julie quickly accepted the miracle being offered and jumped in the backseat.
***
Following Mullaney's voice, Matt strode through the foyer, his internal alarm throbbed with warning. They'd been inside Dandridge's house way too long. Instinct made him pause. Fumbling with his cell, he called the van. "Mo— you see Julie?" Relieved when she confirmed visual contact, he nodded curtly to his mother as she combed a stack of papers. He'd deal with Madeline's security breach later. "What's happening?"
"Your mother found his property tax records in the library and a couple interesting files."
"Could be work files."
"Legit files are kept at the office, Magic. This transaction ran through at least three dummy companies-"
"Let's not forget who we're dealing with."
Mullaney persisted. "At a minimum, this file ties him directly to the storage unit the taskforce raided last month. I think we've finally found Viper."
"Not enough for a conviction." Matt sighed impatiently. "What else you got?"
"He's got a big-ass boat. Like a million bucks big. MoJo's trying to access the registration records. From everything we know about Dandridge, I can't see how he could afford this monster on his own."
Out of the Mist (Can't Help Falling Book 1) Page 26
