by B. J Daniels
She was the daughter of a mobster, involved in who only knew what and as far as he could tell up to her pretty little neck in deep doo. And now she’d pulled him in with her. And all he could think about was taking her in his arms and ending whatever this was between them, this desire that demanded satisfaction, this terrible ache that clouded his thinking.
What was it about this woman? Any fool could see behind that wide-eyed, injured innocence of hers. Why her?
“You already know the truth,” she said, an edge to her voice. “What are you so afraid of? That you might be wrong about me? Or that you might be right? Worse, that it doesn’t matter either way?”
He shook his head, angry with her, angry with himself. What she said was true. Worse, she’d seen his futile struggle to resist her. They both knew she was a deadly temptation. The problem was, he’d always believed himself above such captivation.
“The only truth I know is that you’re a thief and a liar,” he returned, wanting to hurt her, wanting to push her as far away as he could.
She brought up her hand to slap him but he caught it before her palm reached its mark.
He jerked her to him and groaned as he dropped his mouth to hers, his kiss punishing. She seemed small in his arms. Small and vulnerable. She put up no resistance. Made no sound. Her resignation proving to them both how right she was about him.
He shoved her back, despising himself for wanting her and despising her for having this power over him. His palm felt burned where her hand had been, he could taste her on his lips and her scent infused his senses as permanently as a brand. Somehow he’d let this woman get under his skin. And she would get him killed if he didn’t get her out.
“Those suitcases back there, Susannah’s clothes, the passport, the airline tickets for the two of you, they’re all proof that you’re a liar.”
She brushed her fingers slowly over her bruised lips, tears welling in her eyes. “I know I’m a lot of things you abhor, Mr. Brock, but even I wouldn’t lie about my daughter being kidnapped,” she said, her voice dangerously soft. “Or is Brock even your real name? Who is the liar here?” Her eyes fired with anger. “Would you even recognize the truth if you heard it?”
“Try me,” he challenged. “Let’s hear some truth from those lips of yours.”
She glared at him for a long moment, then took a breath. “The day my daughter Susannah was kidnapped, I got a call from Gage Ferraro. He told me he’d been contacted by the kidnappers and that they had demanded a ransom for our daughter.”
“The kidnappers went to Ferraro instead of your father?” he asked, already having trouble believing her story. Gage was small potatoes. If they wanted any large amount of money they’d go to J.B. But they didn’t want money, did they? “They demanded evidence against your father.”
She nodded. “I was to make the trade tonight. But when the police showed up…”
He heard the pain in her voice. Was it possible she hadn’t kidnapped her own daughter, hadn’t been working with Gage, that she was telling the truth for once?
He pulled out the ledger he’d taken from her and opened it. He shot her a look, his heart pounding. He recognized the handwriting. J. B. Crowe had left him several messages during the time he’d worked as the mobster’s chauffeur, all in a small, neat, very vertical, very distinctive script.
And even in the dim light from the dash and the moonlight filtering in through the windows, he could see that the pages were filled with numbers and dates. “Is this what I think it is?”
She nodded. “An account of my father’s illegal activities. Enough to send him to prison.”
Jesse let out a low whistle. “You planned to trade this for Susannah.”
The look in her eyes told him how painful that decision had been. She’d betrayed her father to save her daughter. He no longer doubted that Susannah really had been kidnapped.
* * *
HE LOOKED AGAIN at the book, realizing just what he held in his hands. Something that could bring down J. B. Crowe and his empire.
Amanda touched his arm as if she could see what he desperately wanted to do with the evidence against her father. “If you turn that over to the police, it will be a death sentence for Diana Kincaid and her baby as well as mine.”
“It would stop your father,” he said.
“Do you really believe that putting him behind bars will stop him?” She shook her head. “The kidnapper will kill my daughter if he doesn’t get that ledger. And believe me, my father will see that the same thing happens to Diana and her child.”
Jesse swore. She was right. This was a helluva lot more complicated that he’d first imagined. He looked down the road and realized they’d been sitting still too long.
But he didn’t know where to go. Or what to do. Crowe would be looking for them. And the cops and the kidnapper. And God only knew who else.
“Tell me about the trade,” he said.
“The kidnapper was to bring Susannah to the house and we would make the trade there,” she said.
“Whose idea was that?”
“Mine,” she said. “I wanted some control. My father owns the place. I knew Carina would be there and could get some things ready, like the car and the items I needed for after the trade.”
“You trust this woman?” he asked, recalling how the police had suddenly appeared—and Carina had disappeared.
“Carina is one of the few people I do trust,” she said flatly.
“What about your father?” Jesse had to ask. “If you had gone to him about this—”
She shook her head adamantly, reinforcing the sense that something had happened between Amanda and her father. “My father is a mobster.”
He looked at her to see if she was serious. “You make it sound as if you just found out what your father does for a living.”
Her look was lethal parts anger and hurt. “I’ve known he was a mobster since I was a kid. But I didn’t know about some of his…activities until I started looking for evidence to trade for my daughter.”
Jesse held his breath. “What did you find?”
“My father is running a black market baby ring,” she said quietly. “He buys some babies, steals others from their mothers, and sells them to the highest bidder.” Her voice reeked with contempt.
“How do you know this?” he asked. “Is this in the ledger?”
She shook her head. “Carina worked at the estate until about four months ago, when she had her baby,” she said. “My father’s men tried to buy her baby. They put pressure on her since she has no husband and she’s an illegal immigrant. When she refused to give up her daughter, they tried to steal her.” Amanda’s gaze settled on his. “They tried to kill Carina. I just found out about it.”
Jesse didn’t know what to say.
“Now do you understand why, once I get my daughter, I’m leaving the country?” she asked. “I have to. To my father, family is everything because our blood binds us together, family is ownership,” she said. “Susannah’s curse is that Crowe blood runs through her veins. For that we are all going to suffer because my father will not rest until he has what he considers his.”
Jesse wondered what blood ran through his own veins. And what curse it would bring with it. “What happens now?”
“I contact Gage and have him set up another trade.”
“You trust him?”
She shot Jesse a look. “Only as far as I can throw him. But he’s more upset over Susannah’s kidnapping than I would have ever expected. I’d never seen him like that. Scared. He was practically in tears when he came to me about the trade, afraid I couldn’t do what had to be done.”
He heard the sorrow and pain in her voice, understood for the first time how hard this had been on her and just what extremes she would go to to save her daughter. The brave front she’d put on after the kidnapping had made him think she was lying. Now he realized acting tough was all that had kept her going—being strong, doing what needed to be done, keeping it together—until she could
get her daughter back.
“You seem confident the kidnapper will agree to another trade,” he said. She nodded. “He wants that ledger. I need to call Gage and set it up.”
Jesse nodded. “But how do you know the kidnapper—or Gage—didn’t set you up back there?”
“I don’t. But I still have the ledger and I know how badly the kidnapper wants it. He’ll set up another trade.”
That’s what Jesse was worried about. Another trade. Another trap.
She pulled a cell phone from the compartment between the seats.
He watched her tap out a number and hoped to hell he wasn’t making another mistake with this woman. She could be calling anyone.
“I want to hear what’s being said,” he told her.
She looked over at him, seemingly amused by his continued lack of trust. “You really are a cop, aren’t you?” She leaned toward Jesse, tilting the phone so he could hear the conversation. “Gage?”
“Where the hell are you?” Gage demanded. Amanda was right, he sounded panicked.
“The trade didn’t go down,” she said. “But I would imagine you already know that.”
“You’re telling me? I got a call from the pickup person. He’s furious. He saw the cops and took off. He thinks you pulled a fast one. What the hell went wrong?”
“You tell me,” she said.
Gage let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, right. I called the cops. Not even you believe that. You must have been followed. Probably your old man. I thought you said you’d be careful.”
She glanced over at Jesse. “I’m doing my best.” She sounded close to tears. He almost felt sorry for her.
Gage swore. “But you still have the ledger?”
“Yes, I want you to set up another trade.”
Gage let out another oath. “Let me handle it this time.”
“No, I make the trade, that’s the deal.”
It was obvious that Gage didn’t like that. Jesse could hear him slamming things around on the other end of the line.
“It’s going to take time,” he said finally, sounding angry, frustrated. “A day or two at least. The kidnapper is demanding his own site this time. He’s suspicious now. Where are you so I can let you know?”
“I’ll contact you tomorrow,” she said and clicked off.
Jesse stared out the windshield, unable to shake off the ominous feeling that had settled over him.
The moonlight paved a silver path between the trees and down the long narrow dirt road. The night air drifted in through their open windows, muggy and hot. He could smell something rotting in the trees.
“You act like you know who the kidnapper is,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
He looked over at her. She had her head down and he realized she was crying softly. It surprised him because for the first time he didn’t think the tears were for his benefit.
Her short blond hair was spun silver in the moonlight. She raised her face slowly. The light turned the tears on her cheeks to sparkling diamonds. She brushed them away with her hand, seemingly embarrassed to be crying real tears.
Her gaze locked with his, challenging in its intensity. “Governor Kincaid had my daughter kidnapped.”
CHAPTER NINE
She expected him to call her a liar again. She expected him to at least argue with her. The last thing she expected was him to say, “I’ll drive.”
“Wait a minute, where are we going?” She didn’t like the look in his eyes.
“Red River, Texas,” he said and motioned for her to switch seats with him. “I have some business there and we have at least a day before the next trade.”
“What about the ledger?” she demanded as she reluctantly relinquished the driver’s seat. She didn’t give a damn about his other business. “You aren’t going to keep me from making the trade.”
“I’m not about to stop the trade,” Jesse said without looking at her as he started the van. “Gage said it would be at least one day, maybe two. Red River is only a few hours’ drive from here. We can be back in plenty of time. And obviously we can’t stay in Dallas. No one will be looking for us in Red River.”
His argument made sense. “Then you promise to give me the ledger when I need it and stay out of my way?” she persisted, wondering why she thought she could trust him even if he did agree to her terms. As if she were in any position to be laying down terms.
“I told you,” he said as he drove. “I’m a cop. I want the kidnapper as much as you do.”
“I could care less about the kidnapper,” she snapped. “I just want my daughter.”
He looked over at her as if surprised by her attitude. “You don’t care if a guilty man goes free?”
“Lots of guilty men go free,” she said, thinking of all the men she’d grown up around who she now realized had been guilty as sin.
“We’ll make the trade,” he said after he’d turned onto the highway. “We’ll get your daughter back, but if staying out of your way means letting the kidnapper go, we might have a problem.”
She eyed him in the flickering light of the street lamps flashing past. “You should know, if I get the opportunity, I intend to take the ledger back and make the trade without your interference. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get my daughter back. Including stopping you from risking her life just so you can play hero and bring in the bad guy in the name of justice.”
He shook his head at her. “You are something, you know that? I have both weapons, I have you and the ledger and you’re telling me how it’s going to be?”
“I won’t let you jeopardize my daughter’s life,” she repeated.
“Being J. B. Crowe’s only grandchild has already done that,” he retorted.
She couldn’t argue that, but soon she and her daughter would have new names, new identities, new lives. It wouldn’t be easy to escape her father and his legacy. Amanda might still have his blood running through her veins, but she wouldn’t be J. B. Crowe’s daughter ever again. And Susannah would never know about her grandfather, the mobster.
The thought make her sad. But it was J.B.’s own fault that he was about to lose his daughter—and granddaughter.
But first she had to get Susannah back and that was becoming more difficult all the time, she thought looking over at Jesse. Especially since he didn’t believe that Kincaid had kidnapped her baby.
* * *
AS HE DROVE through the thick Texas night toward Red River, he felt as if he’d been heading in this direction all his life. His life must have begun there. And it was there he would find out the truth.
But what was the truth? And was it something he could live with?
He couldn’t help but feel disloyal to his family, the people who had loved him and raised him. And torn. He was a cop. Going to Red River, digging into the past, finding out the truth. It all made sense to the cop in him.
But still he felt guilty. He should be thankful for everything Pete and Marie McCall had done for him.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t forget the copy of the newspaper clipping. Nor could he not worry about the person who’d put it under his door at the Crowe compound. He had to go to Red River. He had to uncover the truth. It was the kind of man he was. Come hell or high water.
He used Amanda’s cell phone to call his boss at home, waking him up, to tell him that he was headed for Red River. His boss hadn’t been happy to hear it since Jesse didn’t offer any explanation. But he felt someone should know where he was.
To make matters worse, he had to worry about keeping himself and Amanda alive.
He had the ledger and Amanda Crowe. Having either could get him killed. Having both was suicide.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Amanda would be looking for an opening to take the ledger back the first chance she got. He’d have to sleep with one eye open. Or not sleep at all until they made the trade.
He glanced over at her. She had settled into her seat as if nothing could budge her from his side. He was sure that wa
s true as long as he had the ledger.
Nor did he plan on letting her out of his sight. That meant they’d be inseparable. And he knew how dangerous that would be.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said.
He didn’t really want to get into this with her but he could hear the determination in her voice and by now he knew when she wasn’t going to let something go.
“I understand why you believe that Kincaid is behind this,” he said. The kidnapper wanted a ledger that would damage Crowe—maybe even destroy him. Of course, Amanda would suspect Governor Thomas Kincaid. After all, Kincaid’s campaign platform had been to eradicate the mob—more accurately, his nemesis, J. B. Crowe.
But kidnapping? It seemed awfully risky for a man in Kincaid’s position. And the bottom line was, if Kincaid got caught, it would do more than just destroy his career. He wouldn’t last long in prison, not after all the men he’d sent up as a former district attorney. Kincaid was a man known for being tough on criminals.
“You know Kincaid is the kidnapper for a fact?” he asked, all cop again.
“You mean can I prove it?” she asked bristling at his tone. “Not yet. But based on everything I know about the kidnapper, yes. It’s Kincaid. Who else would ask for the ledger as ransom?”
“Any enemy your father ever made who now wants to bring him down,” Jesse suggested. “And I would imagine J.B.’s made quite a few.”
“You don’t understand. My father and Governor Kincaid are at war. Diana and I and our babies are just casualties of that war.”
He could hear the anger in her voice, the tears just behind them. “It isn’t unusual for a governor to want to get rid of the mob,” he said quietly.
She gave him a pitying look. “You really think that’s what this is about? My father and Kincaid have a history that goes back to when they were boys growing up in Dallas—on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak.”
Hadn’t he suspected as much? “What kind of history?”
She sighed. “Kincaid had a little brother, Billy. Billy and my father were best friends, inseparable as kids and later teenagers. Unfortunately, Thomas Kincaid wasn’t happy about their relationship. He knew my father did errands for members of the Organization. He didn’t want his little brother getting involved with the mob.”
