While he continued his mental debate about her participation, Jared parked near a bustling Mexican food restaurant. And waited.
With any luck it wouldn't take long for Tanner to show, and with even more luck, they'd be able to get lost in the crowded parking lot. Getting lost was about the safest thing they could do right now.
"Well?" she prompted. "Still thinking of a way to get rid of me?"
"It was never about me getting rid of you, Rachel. I just don't want you to have to face something that maybe you aren't ready to handle."
Rachel laughed, a short sarcastic burst of sound. "For three months I spied on Esterman. Three months. I suppose you think that was relaxing, huh?" She didn't wait for him to answer. She fired her words at him like gunshots. "And then he threatened to slit my throat when he heard I was going to testify. Definitely a day at the beach."
That wasn't an easy thing for him to hear. Christ! She'd done the right thing by agreeing to spy on Esterman. No one else had been in a position to bring down the man. Still, it put a knot in his gut to know that Rachel had gone through something like that.
"You know what?" she went on. "I didn't have a panic attack then, so quit treating me as if I'm a useless bimbo that you have to pawn off on someone else."
A little bewildered, he stared at her. "When did all of this happen, huh?"
"When did what happen?"
"This attitude."
"You mean me showing some backbone? It's always been there, Jared. I guess I just got out of the habit of showing it when we were together. You had enough backbone for both of us. Mine wasn't needed."
He geared up to disagree, to defend himself, but before he opened his mouth and risked inserting both of his size ten-and-a-half shoes, Jared gave it some thought. She might have a point. Might.
"Anyway, all of this is moot," she concluded. "We're in this together, whether you like it or not. Nod if you agree. If you don't, then please do us both a favor and keep it to yourself."
Whoa.
Jared took another mental step back to figure what he was going to do about it. From the steely look in Rachel's eyes, her participation in this little adventure was going to happen with or without his approval. And whether he liked it or not, he really needed her help.
Only because she didn't give him a choice, Jared nodded. Eventually. "Okay. No pawning you off on anyone. But you won't take any unnecessary chances, understand?"
"Deal," Rachel practically snarled. "And I'll expect you to do the same thing. You might be six feet tall and bear a striking resemblance to a certain superhero, but you're darn sure not bullet-proof."
Flattered and rather annoyed with her sarcasm, he forced himself not to smile. Or frown. This conversation had been an eye opener.
Who was this woman?
He wasn't sure, but he thought he really was beginning to like her. Of course, that same backbone could cause lots of problems for them down the road.
"Minus the superhero-resemblance part, that goes for your five-and-a-half-feet tall body, as well." He added a grouchy-sounding growl for good measure.
"This might be what some would call a memorable moment. We agree on something."
"And we argued." Really argued. Rachel hadn't run for cover at the first sign of conflict. During their marriage, she'd been much better at freezing him out or leaving the room than at dealing with direct confrontation.
Well, she obviously didn't have a problem with it now.
Jared just stared at her. They were parked beneath a neon sign, and a host of watery colors danced across her face. The bright hues didn't quite go with the scowl she aimed at him, but they did do some amazing things to her eyes.
Rachel was definitely something in the looks department, and Jared had never been more aware of that than he was at this moment. She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous; her face was much more interesting than gorgeous. It was an honest face. A face with character. A few tan freckles on her nose. Great mouth.
And suddenly she was staring as if she had no idea what to do with him.
Unfortunately, Jared had plenty of ideas.
Bad ideas.
Something hot and intense sizzled between them. Her scowl faded. Their gazes met, and they exchanged a glance that only former lovers could have managed. A glance that conjured up the image of her naked beneath him. And her naked on top of him.
Hell, it just conjured up sexy images, period.
"And don't you dare say that outburst was a PMS thing," she added.
The corner of his mouth eased up, even though there sure was nothing to smile about. "I wouldn't think of it. If I did, you might use me for a punching bag."
The erotic images kicked up another notch. They were things he shouldn't be thinking about. Things that involved slow, wet kisses on just about every inch of her body.
The scent of her and the memory of Rachel's taste raced through him. Not good. He had too much to deal with tonight without having to fight another battle with his testosterone levels.
The timing sucked. Man, did it. She was coming down from a terrifying ordeal. For that matter, so was he. What he needed to do was step out of the car, to give her space. To give himself some space.
But Jared didn't do that.
Nope.
No space whatsoever.
Instead, he slid lower in the seat so they were eye to eye. And mouth to mouth. He eased his hand around the back of her neck and drew her closer. She didn't resist. And he didn't do a thing to encourage resistance.
She was trembling all over, and he held her, pressing his face against hers. He felt the rapid pump of her heart against his chest. Took in her rich feminine scent. Heard the slight arousing hitch of her breath that told him surrender of some sort was just around the corner. If he wanted her to surrender, that is.
He assured himself that he didn't.
He really didn't.
But even that assurance didn't stop the slow hunger that made its way through him. And he knew he was in trouble. Still, he didn't do a thing to stop it. In fact, he sped things along.
Cursing himself, Jared did something he figured he'd soon regret. He leaned in, gathered her close and captured Rachel's mouth as if it were his for the taking.
Chapter Seven
It was instantaneous. Rachel heard the crash of thunder outside. Inside, there was a flash of heat between Jared and her.
He pulled her to him, his arms warm and welcome. The motion was seamless and surprisingly gentle. However, that was the only thing happening between them that was gentle. His mouth was suddenly on her.
That clever, hot mouth.
Maybe it was from bone-weary fatigue or just the fire that had always been there, but Rachel felt her willpower dissolve the moment he kissed her. Every wall that she'd built to distance herself from him came tumbling down.
He looked good. Smelled good. But, sweet mercy, he tasted even better.
He plunged her into a fire so hot that it nearly consumed her on the spot. The mating of their tongues. The intimate joining of their mouths. The heat of their bodies. The way they fit together, even now.
Jared was good. Beyond good. But then, she'd always known that. He could somehow turn a simple kiss into something almost as good as full-blown sex.
Almost.
Her body quickly reminded her that it was almost as good.
His tongue teased hers. His mouth pleasured. And it left her wanting more in the worst kind of way. A way Rachel knew she couldn't have.
Not now, at least.
After all, they were in a parking lot. Out in the open. Where anyone could see them.
Or kill them.
Jared's awareness of their situation must have kicked in at the exact moment as hers, because Rachel felt his sinewy arms tense just slightly. At first. Then, they tensed a lot more than slightly.
His mouth left hers, and he eased back a couple of inches. His breathing was uneven. His lips slightly parted. Their gazes came together again, and this time the heat
was mixed with a fair amount of reality.
Reality wasn't especially welcome, since she still had the taste of him in her mouth.
"Guess that was one of those act now, think later kind of reactions," he mumbled.
"Yes."
There wasn't much else she could say. Without him feeding the fire in her blood, the kiss seemed, well, incredibly stupid. Here they were in the middle of a dangerous situation, having just witnessed a murder, and they couldn't keep their hormones in check.
Yes, definitely stupid.
"I was way out of line," he added. "And I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too."
But it was a lie. Rachel wasn't sorry that he'd kissed her; she was sorry that it had felt so good.
She wanted to try to explain away the whole incident, but she changed her mind when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. A sporty black truck. It drove past them. Slowly. The driver didn't park in the front of the main lot where they were but instead drove to the back.
The far back.
It was still within sight but barely. Rachel could see the vehicle in her side mirror.
"That's Tanner," Jared said. "And I'll bet Lyle Brewer won't be too far behind him. Make sure you stay low in the seat. The windows are tinted, but I don't want to take any chances."
What was left of that ember of passion evaporated on the spot. "Brewer, as in Esterman's attorney? What would he be doing here?"
"Meeting with Tanner. Remember, Brewer says he has something he needs to tell us."
Her mouth dropped open. Jared had already agreed to the meeting—and set it up—without even getting her opinion? So that's what the monosyllabic conversation with Tanner had been about.
"I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to be left out of the information loop," Rachel insisted.
"You won't be left out. Tanner stashed this in the car for us." Jared picked up a small receptor earpiece and ink-pen size communicator from the tray beneath the console. "We'll be able to hear everything Brewer says."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it. I should be the one to meet with Brewer. Esterman wants me alive. He probably doesn't feel the same about Tanner. Or you."
"Brewer doesn't know you're here, all right." Jared made use of the receptor, holding it against his ear. "He thinks you're someplace miles away, and I want to keep it that way."
So did she, but not at the risk of endangering someone else. Still, there was little she could do about it now. Jared had already set things into motion.
Tanner got out of his vehicle, the wind and the drizzle spitting at him. Rachel recognized him immediately. Hard not to remember the desperado-dark hair that stopped just at the top of his shoulders. He always reminded her of a vampire who'd turned good but had a fifty-fifty chance of going back to his old biting ways. Still, Jared trusted him, so that had to count for something.
Just how much of something, Rachel didn't yet know.
After all, Tanner had obviously agreed with Jared to set up this meeting. She'd reserve judgment on whether that was a good thing.
Rachel leaned closer so she could share the receptor with Jared. He held it between them, but since the device was so small, she had to get closer. Very close. Until they were shoulder to shoulder and practically cheek to cheek.
Great.
The closeness wasn't an ideal arrangement so soon after they'd shared that kiss. But then, there was nothing about this situation that was ideal.
"Jared, Rachel," Tanner greeted, obviously speaking into some hidden communicator. He leaned against his truck and waited.
"Was this get-together your idea?" Rachel asked Tanner. Unfortunately, she had to lean against Jared to ask that. Her left breast pressed against his arm.
Jared noticed. He grunted softly. So did she.
Unaware of the touchy-feely session going on in the car, Tanner shrugged. "It was sort of a mutual decision. I think it's possible that Lyle Brewer knows a lot more about what's going on than he'll want to share with Jared or you."
She glanced at Jared. "I didn't need a meeting to tell me that. Has it occurred to you two that this might not be safe? A man was just killed, for heaven's sake. Brewer could be leading the gunmen or the cops right to us."
"Not tonight he's not," Tanner assured her. "We left the gunmen in the park." He pulled out a small bag of something from his pocket and started eating. Peanuts, she realized when she saw him throw the shells onto the ground. The man was certainly calm under pressure. Unlike her.
Rachel huffed. "And you think they'll just stay there because that's where you left them?"
"They'll need to clear up that mess they made with umbrella-boy. They won't want that kind of evidence left lying around for the cops to find." Tanner took his time munching on another peanut. "Plus, I arranged a little diversion for them when they're done with that. Esterman's men think you're at a hotel on the west side of town. They're likely providing that information to the cops as we speak."
That wasn't much of a reassurance. Diversions weren't necessarily a success just because they were diversions. Still, it was too late to do anything about it. They were here, ready to meet with Lyle Brewer. It was best to learn what they could from him, and then get the heck out of here.
Tanner tipped his head toward the front of the parking lot. "Speaking of the devil, there's Brewer. I do so admire a person who's on time for their appointments."
A sleek midnight-black car drove in and came to a stop just a couple of yards behind Tanner's truck.
"Stay down, Rachel," Jared warned.
From the side mirror she could see Lyle Brewer exit his car. She had no trouble recognizing him, as well. The perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair. The polished demeanor. She'd seen him in Esterman's office numerous times. He was no doubt doing everything possible to get his client out of jail. Was he also in on the plan to hold a child hostage in exchange for her false testimony?
Rachel could certainly believe that. After all, Brewer worked for Esterman.
"For the sake of your suit, we'd better make this quick," Tanner insisted when he greeted Brewer. "I've heard overpriced Italian suits shrink when they get wet."
That didn't do a lot to improve Brewer's demeanor. Even at a distance, Rachel could see his shoulders stiffen.
"I spoke with my client's personal assistant this afternoon, and he asked me to get a message to Lieutenant Dillard."
"Oh, yeah?" Tanner tossed down another peanut shell. It landed on or near Brewer's shoes. "Does your client's personal assistant have a name?"
"He wishes to remain in the shadows, so to speak, but he assures me that he's acting on behalf of Mr. Esterman himself. Mr. Esterman is weary of the court proceedings and the trial delays, and he believes he'll be exonerated when the jury has all the evidence. So, he humbly requests that Rachel Dillard turn herself over to the proper authorities so she can testify."
"And if she doesn't?" Tanner challenged.
Brewer shrugged. "I'm not here to issue warnings or threats. I simply want a fair trial for my client."
Tanner chuckled. "In a pig's eye. You want him to walk."
Brewer nodded without hesitation. "That, too. No surprise there—he is, after all, my client. But I'm of no threat to the lieutenant or Rachel Dillard. I'm simply asking them to comply with the law. That shouldn't be a far stretch for the lieutenant, since he's a peace officer. I've heard rumblings that in a matter of hours, the chief of police will be demanding Dillard's badge."
Even though Jared didn't move or make a sound, Rachel was close enough to feel him tense. That was it. His only reaction to what had to be heartbreaking news. It was another of those weird ironies. Jared had done the right thing by stopping her testimony, but in doing so, he'd broken the law.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
"Sure."
It was a lie. And even more than that, it was a taboo subject. During their marriage, they'd disagreed so many times over his devotion to his badge that just bringing i
t up now would make things worse.
Rachel turned her attention back to Brewer just as he slipped his hand into his jacket.
Before she could even blink, Tanner dropped the bag of peanuts, reached into his jacket and drew his weapon. So did Jared. He didn't stop there. He opened the car door a fraction.
With her heart pounding, she held her breath and waited. God, she'd known this could turn dangerous but she hadn't expected it to happen so quickly. If Jared was forced to fire to protect Tanner and if Esterman's people waited nearby, it would almost certainly lead to another gun battle.
"I'm not armed," Brewer assured him, his voice shaking now. "I just need to retrieve some correspondence from my pocket."
"No sudden moves, and use only two fingers," Tanner instructed.
Keeping his gaze locked with that of the man who had a gun aimed at him, Brewer extracted the envelope and stiffly extended it to Tanner. "From Mr. Esterman's personal assistant."
Tanner took it. What he didn't do was lower his weapon. "I'd love to do this the old-fashioned way and coax the information out of you, but I don't have time. So here goes—Where's the baby?"
Rachel moved to the edge of the seat and wished the rain and the darkness weren't between them so she could better see Brewer's expression. It was a long shot, but she might be able to figure out just how deep he was into this.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Brewer insisted. "What baby?"
Tanner stood there for several moments, studying him. "Why don't you ask your boss? And while you're asking, tell him that he can contact me with the answer."
"I will. Not that I expect him to know, either. By the way, I'd like to offer some free advice. Personally, I'm not as anxious as my client to see Rachel Dillard on the stand, but it's my duty to advise you or her husband to take her to the nearest police station."
No long pause this time. Tanner's response was immediate. "Here's some free advice right back at you—go to hell and take your scumbag client with you."
Confiscated Conception Page 6
