She found the first two numbers and was heading for the third, when the sound of the back door opening ruined her concentration. Ben wasn’t the type who could handle a physical threat, and neither was she. Nonetheless, her father had taught her to react quickly. The front door wasn’t where she wanted to exit, but she would do it to avoid arrest. She grabbed her pad and pencil, and she tucked her stethoscope away. Ben froze, his gaze darting between the back and front as he tried to figure out an exit plan. The store room where they hid had one door and a window. Autumn was at the window in seconds. It was a slim one, clearly not up to code or meant to be used as a fire exit. Ben was going to need to squeeze his larger-than-average frame out. She could get him out of this, but not without some serious scrapes and bruises. If they ran DNA tests, he’d better hope that the government didn’t have a match hiding in their database.
A box cutter sat on top of a pile of cardboard boxes that had been flattened. Intending to use it to slice the screen open, she snatched it up, but a big hand closed around her wrist. “Drop it.”
She followed the hand up a long arm to a face that did not belong to a police officer. He looked familiar, and Autumn realized that she’d seen him before, but she hadn’t realized he’d been following her. He was damn good at his job. She knew without a doubt that this was Jesse Foraker, one of David’s SAFE Security partners. Muscular and toned, he had a military bearing and an alpha-male attitude. His pale blue eyes brooked no refusal, and so she relaxed her grip. “What are you doing?”
“Stopping you from making an even bigger mistake.” Like her, he spoke quietly, and she realized that he didn’t want to wake the guard either.
Glancing back at Ben, she recognized Dean Alloway, another of David’s partners according to the SAFE Security website, with a gun pointed at her partner. Ben held his hands in the air, and he looked like he was ten seconds from pissing his pants.
“Someone spotted you already. They called in a suspicious activity report to the police. We need to go now.” Dean used the gun to indicate that Ben should leave through the back door.
Autumn didn’t want to follow—Jesse didn’t have a gun pointed at her—but since the operation was blown, she didn’t see another alternative. She followed Dean, and Jesse brought up the rear. Once they got outside, Dean motioned down the alley and nailed Ben with a hard stare. “Scram.”
Ben ran off, keeping a pace faster than Autumn would have thought possible. Sheer terror could do that for a person. She turned to Jesse. “Thanks for the warning. I don’t suppose you could fail to mention this to David?”
He held out a hand. “Give me your keys. Dean will take care of your car, and you’re coming with me.”
She didn’t want to go with him, but she didn’t see where she had options. He had saved her from being found by the authorities in the midst of a robbery, but he could still turn her in. His company had a good relationship with law enforcement. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was Jesse who had introduced David to Jordan, Keith, and the other members of the FBI that David now called friends. Not only that, they were bigger, stronger, and trained in physical combat techniques. This wasn’t a battle she could win, and that rankled almost as much as the fact that David had set his watchdogs on her in the first place.
They already had the upper hand, so she resolved not to give them anything else. Schooling her features to remain relaxed, she handed her keys to Dean. “Be kind to Poco. He sometimes takes a little sweet talking to get going, and be sure to check it out first. Someone cut my brake lines a few days ago.”
“I’m aware.” Dean took the keys. “Autumn, David already knows everything. There’s no point in trying to hide it.”
She looked from Dean to Jesse. “How long have you been following me?”
Dean left without responding, and Jesse put his arm around her shoulders to steer her in the opposite direction. “My car is this way.”
Five minutes later, she found herself sitting with her right hand cuffed to the hardware that allowed the car seat to slide back and forth. Restrained like this, she couldn’t ditch him at an intersection and run for the hills. Of course, he knew where she lived and worked, so there was no point in running anyway. With Summer stuck here, she couldn’t disappear and start over elsewhere. “I’m cooperating,” she pointed out.
Jesse started the big, black SUV that was a twin to David’s. His stone-faced expression didn’t crack. “I appreciate that.”
She was quiet for the first twenty minutes as she thought about David’s reaction. He was going to be pissed, no doubt about it, and it was unlikely that he’d turn her in, but what did this mean for their relationship? This proof of his lack of trust spoke volumes. Did this mean he thought she had stolen the three million dollars from his father’s company, even after she’d turned over all her files?
Before her worries could spike out of control, she turned to Jesse. He was a handsome man, somehow harder than David, and his hair was shaved so close to his head that she couldn’t tell whether it was light brown or blond. “He’s had you following me since I spotted him and called him a stalker, hasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Jesse’s monosyllabic response didn’t make her feel better.
This whole time, he hadn’t trusted her. Had he only slept with her to keep her close? Was everything he’d said and done part of an act designed to get her to reveal where she’d hidden the three million? It was a pointless ruse—she hadn’t taken it. If she had three million dollars, she wouldn’t need to hire out her skills as a thief or a Domina.
It didn’t matter whether David’s opinion of her had changed because she no longer knew what had been real between them. How he must have hated having to scene with her and sleep with her—and now the gloves were off. He didn’t have to pretend. Her heart broke, and she realized he must have been laughing at her the whole time. Those three words, uttered in the heat of the moment, came back to haunt her. She’d been nothing more than an amusement to him. Well, she wasn’t going to explain a thing. She hadn’t taken the three million, so there was no proof that could point to her, and she didn’t think Jesse and Dean had proof of her intent to rob the gallery.
Heading to David’s probably meant an apartment full of mercenaries bent on finding out what had happened to David’s father’s money. Her father hadn’t prepared her for an interrogation. He’d only taught her how to avoid capture. Of course, he couldn’t have foreseen mercenaries with the cunning of criminals and the morals of law enforcement. No matter—she could do this. Her heartbreak wouldn’t matter to him, so she couldn’t let it impair her. The thing she really wanted to know was: How low had David sunk to knock her off guard in order to find money she didn’t have?
________
David ran his fingers through his hair again, not caring that it struck straight up. He paced from the huge windows overlooking Ann Arbor’s cityscape to the sofa, and back again.
“That’s not going to make them get here any faster.” Malcolm sat at the dining room table, papers spread out around the laptop he tapped on.
“I’m not ready for this. What the hell was she thinking?”
“You overheard her talking about being good with picking locks and cracking safes. Jesse said he thought she was casing the place, though he wasn’t sure which one it was.” Malcolm gathered the papers and arranged them neatly in one pile.
This wasn’t happening. “But she—she’s not like this! She’s not the kind of person who breaks into places and takes things that don’t belong to her. She’s kind and sensitive, shy and—”
“Secretive. Desperate. Don’t forget that last one. Desperation will drive people to do things they wouldn’t normally consider. And then there’s what Keith found out. David, the man who raised her messed her up. You saw the file the FBI has on him.” Malcolm closed the laptop and went deeper into the kitchen to pour coffee.
The photo of Autumn’s father had returned a hit almost immediately. His name wasn’t Brian Sullivan, though that was one of his aliases
. And facial recognition had found a match for the photos of Autumn and Summer as children. He dreaded telling her what he’d found as much as he dreaded confronting her about the robbery. He was furious about that, and Autumn didn’t react well to his temper.
David followed Mal into the kitchen for coffee. He needed something to help him calm down. Malcolm poured a second mug and handed it over. “Have you thought about the approach you want to use?”
“It’s Thursday.” He sipped the strong brew. “I’ll just ask her.” The buzzer sounded. “That’ll be them.”
A few minutes later, Jesse escorted Autumn through the door. He’d handcuffed her wrist to his. As soon as David locked the door, Jesse unlocked the cuffs. “She behaved. Well, after she misbehaved, I mean.”
From the moment she walked in, Autumn watched him. She didn’t even look away when Jesse removed the cuffs. David was struck by the sadness and resignation that turned her eyes dull green. He hated seeing her this way, but she’d created this situation, and he couldn’t have sympathy for her now. If she had any chance of reforming, he needed to be strong—for her.
“Have you eaten?”
Jesse rubbed his hands together. “Nope. I’m starved.”
He’d meant the question for Autumn, but now that he thought about it, he was hungry as well. “Great. Why don’t you run out and get breakfast for all of us?”
The sour look on Jesse’s face said enough, but he followed up with a verbal response. “I’m not your errand boy.”
“I can whip up something.” Malcolm disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of pots and pans banging hopefully meant a good meal was on the horizon.
“Autumn, have a seat.” He indicated the seat at the dining table where he wanted her to sit.
She frowned. “You know, I’d love to stay, but I don’t have time. I’m going to be late for work.”
“You’re working from home today. Now sit.” His tone was sharpened steel, and she obeyed, though she didn’t bother to lower her gaze to show her submission.
She folded her hands neatly on her lap and stared at them.
He took the next seat, turning it to face hers. “Autumn?”
She met his gaze, and he recognized defensive defiance.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No. I don’t want anything from you.”
She was pissed at him? What the fuck? He leaned over her, propping a hand on the back of her chair and crowding her personal space. “You don’t get to be pissed at me, Sugar. You’re the one who almost got caught robbing an art gallery. Tell me why you did it.”
Facing him without fear or acknowledgement of his dominance, she scowled. “No.”
He shook his head. “It’s Thursday. That means you owe me one direct and fully honest answer.”
“You cashed this one in on Sunday. Perhaps you should learn to ask better questions.” Now she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with a mulish slant to her lips.
He had the urge to blister her ass—for so many reasons, and her backtalk nearly put him over the edge. He shot to his feet and jerked her out of her chair. Holding her by the arms, he gave her one shake. “Don’t fuck with me, Sugar. You’ve earned one hell of a punishment already, and I’m not in the mood to deal with your mouth.”
She stared at him, no hint of fear or acquiescence in her eyes. He threw her back into the chair so that she sat down hard, and she only pressed her lips together, a sign that he was in for a long day.
The apartment had fallen silent. Malcolm stared at him, assessing the situation. Jesse had joined him in the kitchen, and he watched as well, though without speculation in his eyes. Jesse knew he’d never hurt her, but Mal didn’t know him so well.
The buzzer rang, and Jesse let Dean in. His buddy’s clothes were impeccably neat, as always, though he’d been pulled from bed unexpectedly early just as the rest of them had.
He studied Autumn, looking for any chink in her armor and finding nothing. This was going to be difficult, and the direct approach only made her dig her heels in more. He circled back for something less confrontational. “When did you start planning the heist?”
She rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her. He had no doubt it hurt, but she wouldn’t have bruises. He’d held her tighter than that during a scene. Finally she spoke, her voice so soft he knew it carried only to him. “Three weeks ago.”
Before they’d met. He heard the subtext. This has nothing to do with you. “Who was your accomplice?”
“The man you saw me having coffee with the night you stalked me and I gave you a ride home.”
And she’d agreed to go out with him. That had been the beginning of their relationship. “What’s his name?”
“Ben. It probably wasn’t his real name. I didn’t give him mine.”
“How did you meet him?”
She shook her head, indicating a refusal to answer. It was likely she had contacts across many criminal sets, and there was no way she was giving them up. They’d probably come after her if she did, so he let it go—for now. “What was your target?”
This time, she shrugged. “He was after a painting.”
He frowned. If she didn’t know him that well, why would she agree to break into a place that had nothing she wanted? “What were you after?”
“Nothing.”
David blinked. He believed her. “Nothing? Then why do it?”
She looked away, gazing at the dawn breaking through the window. It wasn’t an evasion, more of an indication that the conversation was over.
“Sugar, I need an answer.”
Her head snapped, and he saw that she’d channeled her sadness into vehemence. “You need an answer?” She set a hand on the back of his chair and leaned forward, getting in his personal space. “You need an answer? I think not. It’s my turn, David. How about you tell me all about who ruined the brakes on my car?”
Taken aback, and not just by the quick change to her Domina persona, David’s mouth gaped, and he stared. Jesse would never do that to her.
She rose to her feet, her slow ascent highlighting her dominant position. “Nothing to say? You had me tailed. This whole time, you had someone following me and reporting on what I did and where I went. So, tell me—who was in a better position to cut my brake lines than your man?”
“Jesse didn’t tamper with your brakes.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, her voice sliding down to a silky hiss. “And why would he do that unless it was on your order? It was convenient, having a doctor friend who could take a look at Summer. And the time crunch—that was brilliant. You knew I wouldn’t have the records, that I’d need to go back to my apartment for them—that I’d do anything for Summer. It was the perfect leverage, wasn’t it? Getting me to confide in you so you could find out and prey upon my weakness. If you wanted me dead, I just don’t understand why you didn’t kill me outright. You’re a mercenary. You have to have experience with assassinations and hiding the body. Did you get off on using me? Was this fun for you?”
Though she tried to hide it, he glimpsed the raw pain that ripped her apart. He also recognized that she’d derailed his interrogation. He rose slowly, mimicking her move and forcing her to step back. Then he gripped her upper arms and hauled her against him. “Jesse didn’t tamper with your brakes, and the rest was coincidence.”
She snorted. “I suppose he didn’t break into my apartment and search it, either.”
“I did break in,” Jesse said, but he wasn’t successful in putting a dent in Autumn’s growing rage. “You have a very clean and neat place. And some interesting security measures.”
Her body relaxed, and she slid her palms up his chest. “I shouldn’t have trusted you in the first place. I knew better, but you fake sincerity very well. And I’m one hell of a target—alone and isolated. You’re good at your job, but I’m not stupid, David, and I know what you want from me.”
Her tone and the way she melted into his hold were in direct
contrast to the substance of her message. David frowned. “What do you think I want from you?”
She broke away abruptly, and he let her go. She turned toward the window, and then she went to stand next to it. “I didn’t take the money, and I don’t know who did. I break into places and rob safes. Computer hacking isn’t my thing. I’d never even used a computer before I started at CalderCo. I gave you everything I had, and I told you that you were barking up the wrong tree. Now I know why you didn’t want my help looking through the data. Did you even bother to look at anybody else?”
“Yes.” Malcolm set three plates on the table. “We looked at everybody else. Now eat, Autumn, because both of you need to have clear heads, and neither of you do.”
Jesse and Dean joined them, each carrying their own plates.
Autumn glanced at the omelet waiting at her seat. Her stomach growled so loudly that he heard it. Shades of indecision flickered over her face, but she opted to join them. Three bites in, she narrowed her eyes at Malcolm. “When did you become a mercenary for SAFE Security?”
“I’m just a tech geek.” He smiled cheerfully. “I sit in a dark room in the basement and hack into everybody’s files in search of that elusive three million. Unlike you, I’m actually very good with computers. Why hadn’t you encountered them before? They’re awfully hard to avoid.”
She took another bite. “Apparently not.”
So many things made sense now. Darcy’s comment about being friends “once all this was cleared up” now had context. She’d known they were investigating Autumn, and she’d hoped to see Autumn vindicated. At least she hadn’t been faking it. Her father had warned her repeatedly about people who pretend to care. Just when she’d thought it was safe to open her heart and make friends—or fall in love—his advice was proving too valuable. She never should have let down her guard.
Her heart ached. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but a perverse majority wouldn’t let her walk out without David’s telling her to go. As long as she was here, there was hope that she might be wrong about him. Perhaps he would take her in his arms and show her how he felt?
Re/Leased (Doms of the FBI Book 5) Page 22
