Protected by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

I tilted my head, paying close attention.

  “In San Francisco with my family,” Oswald said. “It was a holiday weekend. Are you insinuating that I might have stabbed my own brother-in-law? It’s preposterous. JD and I got along fine.”

  “He was your drug dealer,” I pointed out.

  Anger exploded across Oswald’s face. “Not for months! What kind of depraved person makes accusations without proof? Those pills were part of a leftover stash. Not that Sara believes me. You ruined my marriage.”

  “In my experience,” Corbin said coolly as he released Oswald, “drug addicts rarely forget where their stashes are. I assume you’re heading home now?”

  Oswald nodded slowly. “First thing tomorrow.” He looked at me, uncertainty in his eyes. Even though he only hesitated a moment, I could tell he was unsure how to proceed. “Your partner,” he said tentatively. “Does he spend a lot of time in LA?”

  My partner? Apparently Sara hadn’t mentioned that Rob and I were brother and sister. But then, I hadn’t told her.

  Rob went to LA about as often as I did—almost never. However, I found myself saying, “I believe he does.”

  “So he knew JD?” Oswald asked. “That part of Sara’s story was true?”

  “You’d have to ask him that,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like I was stalling for time.

  “It’s just…” Oswald blinked. “He looks like someone JD used to date.” Contempt flashed in his eyes.

  It seemed to me that Oswald didn’t like JD as much as he claimed.

  That was worth further investigation. “Why don’t you come to the office? Allow me to apologize, give you a cup of coffee, and you can talk to Rob,” I suggested. I didn’t look at Corbin. He’d dragged me out here, so the least he could do was take me to the office. “We can drive you.”

  “I’ve got a rental,” Oswald said, giving the SUV a distrustful look. As he walked away, I saw him surreptitiously rub the arm that Corbin had been holding him by.

  “You’ll probably want this.” Corbin held out my phone.

  “You…” I leveled a finger at him before snatching the phone away.

  I sent Rob a quick text, then dialed Sara. It gave me something to do that didn’t involve yelling at Corbin for locking me in the SUV, because now that I knew he hadn’t killed anyone, I was annoyed again.

  Sara answered on the second ring.

  “Do you know where your husband is?” I asked her.

  “No, and he doesn’t know where I am, either,” she said smugly.

  I wondered who was looking after their kids. A nanny, perhaps, or maybe that thick-wristed woman who’d answered the door at Sara’s house.

  “Where are you?” I asked, suspecting that maybe I didn’t want to know.

  “With my lover,” she said. “Thank you for informing me about the drugs. The scales have fallen from my eyes. I’m leaving Oswald. Permanently.” The way she said it, she’d left him plenty of times before.

  “Sorry to hear that,” I said.

  “Don’t be. An expensive divorce will help sober him up. This is better for me anyway. He’s lousy in the sack.” She paused. “Except for when he’s high. It’s the only time he turns in a reasonably compelling performance.”

  “That’s… interesting,” I said. “I called because I have a question for you. Does my partner look like someone JD used to date?”

  “Rob?” Sara asked.

  I was impressed that she remembered his name, but then she’d definitely flirted with him. “Yes, Rob. I was under the impression that JD didn’t date.”

  “Oh, there was some guy about six months ago. Right before Bowlst came into the picture. But that guy didn’t look anything like Rob. Maybe the same build? It didn’t last very long. It’s funny because after your visit, Oswald said the same thing. I’m shocked he noticed at all. Whenever JD used to show me photos of cute guys, Oswald would get uncomfortable. I told him that just because JD was gay didn’t mean he wanted to screw every guy in California.” She made a soft sound of disgust. “Why the hell did I stay with him for so long?”

  Something came together. “Sara, is your… lover”—ugh—“the person who told you that Massimo was about to be captured? Does he have political connections or something?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Sara?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny—” she began, her voice frosty.

  “That’s fine.” I wondered if all these politicians were Oswald’s buddies. No wonder he was so smug. My phone buzzed. Rob, calling from the office.

  I ditched Sara, then filled Rob in on what was happening. Unfortunately, he couldn’t talk long, leaving me alone with Corbin.

  “If you want to yell at me, go ahead,” he said. He kept his eyes trained on the road.

  “Actually, I don’t.” Except it wasn’t true. I wanted to scream and throw a tantrum until he changed his mind about Henry. “What you did? Not cool.”

  “No,” he agreed. “It wasn’t. But it was necessary.” As he pulled into the parking lot, he studied the area, looking for any sign of Henry, I guessed.

  “You made me feel like shit,” I said.

  Corbin turned off the truck and shifted to face me. Maybe it was because of the tint on the windows, but his eyes looked like they were lit from within. “I know, and I’m sorry. Insulting you wasn’t my intention.”

  “You locked me in a car like a fucking dog. No, not even a dog, because at least a dog would have merited a cracked window for some fresh air.” My voice was climbing in volume.

  “The doors would have unlocked after ten minutes,” he said. “In case I didn’t…”

  “In case you didn’t what?” I asked sharply.

  Corbin shook his head. “Henry is dangerous, Audrey. He’s out for blood. Do you think he’s unarmed? He pulled a gun on us once before. Or don’t you remember the hospital parking lot?”

  It had happened months ago, toward the beginning of the year. That whole afternoon was a bit fuzzy in my mind. I’d just visited my comatose father. No one had known if Dad would survive the operation, and our last words to each other had been cruel. Afterward, in the parking garage, Henry had grabbed me. He’d pulled out a gun when Corbin showed up.

  “He might kill you,” I said, a new hurricane of worry descending. I thought of Corbin as somehow indestructible. But he wasn’t, and Henry hated him, too.

  Oh, god.

  “I think he’s a desperate, deranged and angry man,” Corbin said solemnly.

  “Even more reason to stay away from him!”

  “Baby.” He sighed and didn’t say more than that. He didn’t have to.

  Oswald had arrived in his luxury rental sedan and was waiting for us, arms crossed.

  We got out of the SUV and Corbin walked me to the building’s door. Even though he wasn’t obvious about it, I could tell he was keeping careful watch.

  Fucking Henry, I thought as I punched in the code that would allow access to our suite of offices. The deadbolts weren’t engaged because it was during business hours, so I didn’t need to pull out my keys. Good thing, as they were at home.

  My memory flashed on Corbin getting out of the SUV, reaching under the seat…

  “Corbin,” I whispered as the three of us walked through the building’s lobby. I tugged his shirt until he looked at me. “Are you carrying a gun?” I mouthed.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  The weekend I’d first met Corbin, he’d shown me an impressive collection of weapons. Impressive not because of the number but because he’d had several that were completely foreign to me. But I hadn’t known him to carry them. Given how much spontaneous sex we had, it would have been obvious.

  Corbin draped his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened, still angry, then remembered the police speeding past and how terrified I’d been that he’d get arrested.

  I leaned into his embrace as we walked. The prospect of never being able to touch him again had certainly put things into perspective.

>   Chapter 21

  “Hello,” Erin said cheerily, bouncing up from her seat behind the receptionist’s desk. “I’ve got a big old heap of messages for you.” She handed me a stack of papers.

  “Fantastic,” I said, irritated at the reminder of all the work that was accumulating while I was trying to save Henry’s worthless ass.

  “Sorry,” Erin said.

  Guiltily, I dredged up a smile; it wasn’t her fault. “Ignore me. I’m having one of those days. Is Dad in?”

  Erin shook her head. I couldn’t help noticing her attention was more focused on Corbin and Oswald.

  Yeah, that was me with the eye candy. One assassin, one egocentric addict. How had I gotten so lucky?

  Rob’s door was open, and I motioned for Oswald to go on in.

  “You don’t have to be there,” I told Corbin. “You can wait in my office if you want.”

  We stared at each other. He’d been helping me with Massimo’s case since the beginning, back before I even knew why Massimo had fled the country.

  “It’s not that I’m still mad,” I said quickly, closing Rob’s door so we wouldn’t have an audience. I figured Rob could handle Oswald for thirty seconds. “Actually, maybe you should come in, be a third set of eyes—”

  “No. I could use a few minutes to return some calls,” Corbin said easily.

  “Ok.” I handed him the stack of papers that Erin had given me. “Could you drop these on my desk?”

  He nodded.

  “And don’t go anywhere,” I said. “Promise you won’t leave me here.”

  He leaned in, dropping his voice low. “One thing you can be certain of is that I won’t be leaving you alone, not unless we’re somewhere I think is safe.”

  “That’s not a—”

  “I promise not to go after Henry. Good luck with Oswald, and if you need me, let me know.” He walked away, and I took a moment to appreciate the hypnotic flexing of his muscles as he moved. If only our lives weren’t so complicated, how ridiculously happy we could have been.

  But if our lives weren’t so complicated, we never would have met. Maybe I still would have been doing my workaholic thing, but Corbin would have been living in New York or Paris, married and with a couple of kids.

  I sighed and went into Rob’s office, closing the door behind me.

  “Sorry,” Rob was saying. “I prefer not to discuss my personal life.”

  “All I’m asking is if you knew him,” Oswald said. “I don’t care if you dated him or not.”

  My eyebrows went way up. This was… interesting.

  “Is Rob your real name?” Oswald asked.

  “It isn’t,” Rob said. “And I don’t think my real name is any of your business.”

  I waited for Oswald to ask the obvious followup—Is Robert your real name?—but he didn’t. Lucky for Rob.

  Oswald glanced back and seemed disappointed to see me. “Listen,” he said, focusing on Rob again. “You’re fucking with me, and I don’t know why. It’s a simple question, really. Did you know JD?”

  “No,” Rob said. “Why would you think I did?”

  “Oh.” Oswald stood a little straighter. “I guess you have a twin.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed.

  Oswald shot me a confused look. “Well, I never actually met the guy. JD showed us some photos at dinner one night. He… looked a lot like you. At least in the pictures,” he followed up lamely.

  “It wasn’t me,” Rob said.

  “Did JD give a name?” I asked. Maybe the guy he’d dumped for the congressman hadn’t taken it well.

  “No. In fact, JD went out of his way to not give a name. It’s unimportant. I figured since I was out here, I’d ask.”

  “Why are you here?” Rob asked.

  Oh, I didn’t want to have that dredged up again. “Oswald, I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing, but as you can see, I work for a legitimate company.” In other words, please don’t sue us. A lawsuit was the last thing we needed.

  “Believe it or not, I really am clean,” Oswald said, giving me an imploring look.

  “I’ll tell Sara that,” I said. Not that it would do any good.

  He cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is, if you explain that you made a mistake, perhaps she’ll reconsider leaving me.”

  I remembered Corbin’s comment about how addicts didn’t accidentally leave some of their stash around. He was probably right, but I didn’t want to piss off Oswald, who clearly had friends in high places. “Let me see what I can do,” I said.

  “That’s all I ask.” Satisfied, Oswald shook Rob’s hand, then mine, then left.

  I crossed to the window and watched Oswald get in his expensive rental car. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I think he’s got something to do with the murder,” I said.

  “You are crazy,” Rob said. I treated him to a dirty look, and he grinned. “But I think that’s an idea worth pursuing. The question is, why?”

  “Well, he’s got connections and money. It’s the magic combination. Hell… He probably didn’t even need money. His wife’s brother was brutally murdered. No one would suspect that Oswald had an ulterior motive for wanting the accused killer punished. The same for the LAPD. They’re overworked, so why waste time investigating a case if someone higher up the ladder says it’s being taken care of?”

  “Sure,” Rob said. “You could be right. I was asking why he would do it.”

  “Oh.” I thought. “Drugs. Jealousy. But… What if JD told the truth to everyone about why he was moving?”

  Rob leaned against the wall next to me and scratched his cheek with his thumb. Together, we watched Oswald pull out of the parking lot. “What do you mean?” Rob asked.

  “JD told his neighbors that he was moving because of this guy he was dating. ‘Hot married guy.’ And he told Neil he was moving to be closer to his family. Guess who didn’t know he was changing cities? Sara. What if he was dating Oswald?”

  “Screwing his sister’s husband? Gross.”

  I started to get excited as pieces slid into place. “When we were in LA, he was jealous. I figured he was being territorial about his wife, but… I think he was jealous about JD.”

  “Yeah, that would be a good theory except for one thing,” Rob said. “Multiple people have confirmed that Congressman Bowlst was JD’s boyfriend.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s a good point.” I turned away from the window, then spun back, my eyes scouring the parking lot, looking for something that I knew was missing even though I didn’t want to believe it.

  “What’s wrong?” Rob called out as I sprinted from the room.

  I slammed my hands on Erin’s desk. She jumped, her eyes going so wide that they took up half her face.

  “Where’s Corbin?”

  “I… don’t know?” A blush was beginning to bloom on her cheeks. “He left a minute ago. Right after the phone call.”

  “What phone call?” I didn’t wait for her to answer and instead rushed outside.

  Of course, Corbin’s SUV wasn’t in the parking lot, and he hadn’t accidentally dropped a little map with his destination circled.

  He was gone, and there was only one person who could have made him take off like that. “Goddammit, Corbin,” I growled, focusing on my anger so I wouldn’t dissolve into tears. “Damn it!”

  My curse was drowned out by the sound of Martin’s loud motorcycle zooming toward the parking lot.

  I needed to grill Erin about the phone call, but when I turned to go back inside, Erin was there, a goofy look on her face. I snapped my fingers in front of her eyes to get her attention, but she was focused on the guy taking off his helmet and unzipping his black jacket.

  “What phone call, Erin?”

  A lovesick smile on her lips and stars in her eyes, she looked past me and said, “I don’t know. Someone called asking to speak to you. He said he was an old friend, so I dialed your office. Corbin answered and told me to put it through. A few minutes later he left. I’m not even sure it trans
ferred properly—”

  “Five minutes or sixty seconds? Which is it?”

  “I didn’t look at the time…” Erin’s attention was so trained on Martin that I knew he was now standing behind my left shoulder.

  “Erin,” I snapped. I grabbed her arms. “Focus. Did Corbin say where he was going? Did he look upset?”

  “Um… I don’t know.” She furrowed her brow. “That guy called before. It’s in your messages.”

  I sprinted for the building, leaving Erin and Martin to carry out their public mating ritual. I stopped by Erin’s desk to see if the caller history showed anything useful, but I struck out. In our regular offices, all incoming and outgoing numbers were logged. That kind of attention to detail came in handy for a bounty hunting company, when sometimes people would call to give a tip, then back out the moment someone answered the phone, the moment it got real.

  But here at the temporary offices, the phone system wasn’t set up properly. Erin was supposed to jot down caller ID for all incoming calls, but she only did it about half the time.

  “Hey, Audrey—” Rob called as I headed to my office.

  The stack of mail and messages was sitting on a corner of my desk. I snatched them up. The second one from the top caught my attention. Old friend. Says he’ll call back.

  And thank heaven, there was a number scrawled below.

  My hands shook as I took the receiver off the cradle and dialed the number.

  Rob walked in, holding up a folder. “Your jogger called about that assault charge. I don’t know if you sacrificed a goat, but she saw him a few minutes ago near the lake. I need backup.”

  I turned away from him.

  “Hello, Conference Inn.” The man’s voice was tired, or maybe just bored.

  “Hi,” I said, unpleasantly surprised. Conference Inn was about a ten-minute drive from my apartment. Not Corbin’s condo, but the place I rented. The address listed on my driver’s license. Probably not a coincidence. “Could you hold on a second?”

  I covered the mouthpiece. “I’m busy,” I told my brother. “Martin’s here. Take him.”

  “He’s been on the clock since early this morning. I’ll call one of the part-timers and have them meet me there. Is everything ok?”