The Bride’s Secrets

by Debra Webb

  She shrugged. “Not for real. Once in a blue moon.” She glared at him. “At moments like this when fools won’t listen to me.”

  He braced his elbows on his knees. “I am a fool, that’s for certain.”

  She strode over to him. “Let’s just get this part over with, okay?” Feet wide apart, hands on hips, she stared hard at him. “I lied. Cheated. Did whatever I had to do to get close to you. I obtained the information I needed, and then I split. Get over it. Having your feelings hurt won’t kill you.” She hitched her thumb toward the road beyond the trees. “Those guys, they’re not playing. They might want something out of you, but ultimately they want you dead.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not arguing on any of those counts.”

  Suspicion narrowed her gaze. “What’re you up to?”

  He dropped his hands to his thighs. He briefed her on the latest findings by the Colby Agency. “Let’s just get to the bottom of this so we can both get on with our lives.”

  “I’ve been there all along.” She climbed the steps past him. “What took you so long?”

  WHAT THEY NEEDED, Eve mused, was computer access and a different ride.

  Computer access would be easy. The ride, maybe not so. She’d abandoned the rental at the movie theater. Her own car was a liability now.

  “We need to borrow a vehicle,” she announced as she gathered her bag and slung it across her shoulder.

  “And I need my weapon,” he countered.

  They stood in the middle of the room staring at each other for ten or fifteen seconds.

  “I suppose having you armed could prove useful.”

  His face lit up with sudden inspiration. “My bike.” He nodded as the idea only he knew evidently gained momentum in his mind. “I have a street bike in my garage. We could use it.”

  Bike? “Are you talking about a motorcycle?” He didn’t have a motorcycle. She’d been in his garage dozens of times.

  He nodded. “Kawasaki. You might not have noticed, since I had a special cover made for it. I rarely have a chance to ride it, but occasionally I take it for a spin.”

  “You have a ‘crotch rocket’ and you never mentioned it?” She hadn’t been the only one keeping secrets. There were certain things people told each other when they decided to get married. Owning a racy motorcycle was definitely one of them.

  “You smoke,” he challenged, “once in a blue moon. Eve Mattson isn’t even your name. I don’t think owning a street bike is a big deal compared with the secrets you’ve kept. Besides, it wasn’t really a secret. It just never came up. I was busy.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think about it.”

  Guys, they were all the same. The biggest sin known to humankind was always somewhat less of a transgression if they were the perpetrators. “Uh-huh.”

  She headed for the door, then stopped to face him. “Let’s go spend some time at a computer café. Then we’ll check out this bike of yours.”

  Admittedly, the prospect of climbing onto the back of a bike, him nestled between her spread thighs, held some major appeal.

  But it would be yet another mistake.

  And she’d already made one too many with him.

  Chapter Ten

  8:30 p.m.

  J.T. parked Eve’s newly damaged car one street over from his own. They cut between two houses and approached his home from the rear.

  Crouched near the privacy fence, J.T. said, “I’ll have a look around just to make sure no one’s waiting for us to show up.”

  It wasn’t completely dark yet, so getting close to the house without being seen wasn’t going to be easy. He’d need to stay between the shrubs and the fence, keeping his head low or he’d be spotted by anyone choosing to look. She told him as much. He gave her an I’m-not-stupid look.

  Eve reached into her bag and pulled out her Glock. “Here.” She shoved it at him, butt first. “Take this. You might need it.”

  He looked from the weapon to her. “You sure about that?”

  Maybe this was another mistake, but she wasn’t about to send him in there unarmed. He’d already been ambushed once in his home. Besides, she felt reasonably certain he wasn’t going to take off on his own. At this point he was fairly convinced that he was being set up or was in danger. She may not have seen the man who’d hired her, but she’d heard his voice as well as that of one of his colleagues.

  J.T. needed her.

  That realization made breathing difficult. “Yeah. Go.”

  He accepted the weapon. Dusk prevented her from labeling what she saw in his eyes. Relief maybe?

  Staying beneath the level of the shrubs flanking his yard, he scrambled toward the rear entrance of the garage. Eve bit her lip, listened intently for any sound. The neighborhood was a quiet one. Most of the dog owners kept their pets inside at night. Few folks on this block had small children. The only sound was the traffic of the main cross street several blocks away. If a vehicle turned onto his street, she would hear it well before it reached his house—as long as she paid attention.

  Eve adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag. Her stuff had gotten soaked the night before last, but the items that mattered—her weapon, binoculars and driver’s license—were good to go. And, of course, the cell phone she would be lost without. She’d checked her e-mail via her cell earlier to see if anyone had contacted her regarding the J.T. situation. Nada. No calls, either. No question about where she stood with the enemy now.

  What the hell was taking him so long? He was supposed to go in, get the bike and get out.

  If she had to go in there and check on him…

  A roar erupted in the quiet.

  He’d started the bike. What the hell?

  She braced to make a dash toward the house. The revving engine echoed louder. A blue-and-white blur sped past the gap between his house and the next. Her jaw dropped.

  He’d left.

  Left her.

  Cursing, she pushed to her feet.

  That was when she heard the tires squeal. She raced across the backyard, getting to the front corner of his house just in time to see the dark sedan barreling in the same direction in which his bike had disappeared.

  They had been watching the house.

  Damn it!

  He’d left the garage’s overhead-side door open. The automatic opener had been disengaged so that he could open it quietly by hand. Obviously he’d spotted the sedan on the street. Why the hell hadn’t he come back out and told her?

  He would go straight to his Colby Agency colleagues.

  Ensuring one of two outcomes: his death or no way to track the person responsible for this mess. Considering what Victoria Colby-Camp had told him about the numbered account, he and maybe Arenas were supposed to be the scapegoats. If the person behind this setup determined that getting J.T. was no longer a viable scenario, he would simply disappear.

  Then they would never know for sure who was behind this.

  And J.T. could end up dead a month or a year from now. He’d spend the years to come looking over his shoulder.

  Not acceptable.

  Her fury building, she started to walk out of the garage but spotted what looked like a piece of paper on the windshield of his SUV. Something white anyway. Dusk had settled into near darkness. A few steps later and she had the note in her hand. She opened her cell phone for a light to read by.

  Meet me at the place where we first had coffee.

  If this was a setup to get her off his back by turning her over to the police…

  Wait. He’d given her the benefit of the doubt when he had absolutely no reason to. She had to do the same for him. It was his handwriting.

  She checked the door leading from the garage to the house. Locked.

  She surveyed the SUV. Now, all she had to do was find his keys. He’d kept a spare set somewhere on the vehicle. She remembered him mentioning that he’d found a stellar hiding place. Not daring to turn on a light, she was left with no choice but to search by touch.

  Not in any
of the fender wells. She checked the front and rear bumpers. No such luck.

  Oh well. She dropped to the floor and scooted her body beneath the vehicle. Using her cell once more for light, she scanned the chassis.

  “Aha.” The small metal box that contained an ignition key was a little dirty but readily identifiable. She pulled it loose, closed her phone and started to belly from under the vehicle.

  The glow of headlights filled the garage.

  Instinct sent Eve scooting to the far side of the SUV’s underbelly.

  In the driveway a car door slammed. The rasp of footsteps heightened her senses.

  Adrenaline seared through her veins. She eased deeper beneath the SUV and froze, holding her breath.

  The footsteps moved slowly along the drive. Inch by inch. She turned her head in the direction of the open door. A wide stride cut through the stream of twin lights. Black leather lace-up shoes. Black trouser legs.

  A lone male. He walked to the middle of the double-car garage and stopped. She didn’t have to see to know that he was likely looking around for any clue as to where J.T. would have gone from here.

  Then he started moving again.

  Eve barely resisted the urge to attempt getting a look at the guy. But ending up dead wasn’t on her immediate agenda.

  The rustle of fabric told her he was digging in his trouser pocket. A few clicks of metal and the door leading into the house opened. Experienced at lock-picking. No mistaking which side of the law he was on. She recognized the traits. Most of her adult life had been spent on that side of the law.

  She could make a run for it while he was inside, but J.T. had implied that she should bring his vehicle.

  She could come back for the SUV.

  Another reality throttled through her: The sedan had followed J.T. There had been plenty of time since she’d dragged J.T. out of here the night before last for anyone who wanted the opportunity to search the house to do so.

  Why had this guy bothered going inside?

  This wasn’t about what was or wasn’t inside the house—this guy was looking for her.

  His associates had seen J.T. leave alone. They suspected she was here somewhere.

  The urge to flee fired in her muscles.

  Don’t move.

  Seconds turned into minutes. Sweat broke out on her forehead.

  What the hell was he doing in there?

  Was she making a mistake waiting him out?

  If he had a gun, would he use it in a neighborhood setting like this?

  It was dark outside now. That fact would be to his advantage, giving him cover, if he got her in his sights. The best strategy was to stay put, ride it out. Then he would think she’d been dropped off somewhere else or had moved on.

  The measured footsteps echoing from inside warned of his impending exit from the house.

  Once again Eve held her breath. As much as she’d like to get a look at this guy, she would like to get out of here alive a whole lot more. So she stayed perfectly still.

  Just go, she urged silently.

  Then he stopped…in the middle of the garage. His long legs sliced the beam of the headlights, highlighting his presence.

  A man like him, a professional, would have well-honed instincts.

  He sensed something was off…someone was close. He wasn’t leaving until he was sure.

  Her eyes widened as he turned and started toward the SUV.

  Damn it. She’d given her Glock to J.T.

  Where was the note, in her pocket?

  Had she dropped it on the floor? If he noticed it, he would know she was here.

  He stopped at the SUV’s passenger-side door.

  Her heart stumbled into an irregular pattern.

  If he crouched down…

  She wasn’t waiting for his next move. She had to act. Now!

  With one click she made the next move.

  The SUV’s alarm system kicked in—horn blowing, lights flashing.

  The man backed up a step.

  Stalled an instant.

  Eve reacted to his hesitation.

  Then he turned and walked briskly back to his car, dropped behind the wheel and shifted into Reverse.

  The headlights grew distant and faded as he backed from the drive and, tires squealing, sped away.

  Eve hit the button to stop the alarm, took a deep breath and exhaled some of the tension.

  Get the hell out of here.

  She slid from beneath the SUV, hit the unlock button and climbed inside. Without turning on the headlights, she backed from the garage and went in the opposite direction of the one the man had taken.

  Taking a right at the first intersection, she rolled down the street where she’d left her car and her bag. Scanning the darkness, she hopped out, unlocked her car and retrieved her bag. She surveyed the street before climbing back into the SUV. No sign of a tail.

  Now, if J.T.’s luck had held out, he would be waiting for her at the coffee shop off the West Loop. The one where they’d met to discuss taking care of the damages to his SUV.

  She took a long, deep breath. This time it wasn’t related to drawing in enough oxygen, but it was entirely connected to inhaling his scent. That spicy, musky, very male aroma that heated her blood, made her flesh tingle. It permeated the interior of his SUV. She sank more deeply into the luxurious leather seats.

  God, she’d missed him.

  Idiot.

  How could she have fallen even a little for this guy? She knew better than to get emotionally involved with a job. J.T. was a job.

  Still was.

  Sort of.

  Once this was over, she was out of here. She wasn’t cut out for his whitewashed, white-collar lifestyle. Eve Mattson was not like J.T.’s colleagues at the Colby Agency. She wasn’t even like J.T.

  J.T. STOOD OUTSIDE THE coffee shop. He’d waited inside for the first ten minutes. But now, twenty minutes after his arrival, he was on the verge of driving back to his house to check on Eve.

  She should have been here by now.

  He’d tried the cell number he’d had for her, but that one was no longer in service.

  He shouldn’t have left her.

  But he’d spotted two men and had made a snap decision.

  Lead them away from her…. Lose them.

  He rubbed his neck and refused to consider that she could have left again.

  Left him.

  It wasn’t as if she hadn’t warned him. He was very much aware that some sort of strategy was going down. A strategy that made him a scapegoat. She’d wanted him to know that.

  There really was no reason for her to show up here. Her job was done.

  She could get on with her life. Whatever and wherever that was.

  Ten more minutes. He would wait ten more minutes, and then he would leave.

  The longer he stayed in the open, the more likely he could be spotted. He needed a strategy of his own. At the top of his priority list was to determine who was behind what had apparently been a scam on the insurance company where he’d worked.

  With Arenas dead, that opened up the possibility that someone else inside was involved. He’d made a list of more than half a dozen cases where the payout was seven figures or more. Until he was able to determine who was involved on the inside, he would try to measure how deeply and how far back the scam went.

  Headlights down the street flickered. He stepped back into the alleyway between the coffee shop and the bookstore next door.

  Black. SUV.

  Relief flooded his chest.

  His SUV.

  Eve parallel-parked and climbed out.

  As he watched her cross the street, that big old bag banging against her hips, something shifted in his chest. Deep in his chest.

  When she reached the sidewalk, he called out to her. She diverted her course and headed for his shielded position.

  “Someone came back to the house. A man. Alone.”

  Fear twisted his gut. “Are you all right?”

 
She looked taken aback that he’d asked. “I hid under your SUV.”

  “Did you get a look at him?”

  A shake of her head. “Just his shoes.”

  “He was looking for you.” More of that fear he hadn’t wanted to label twisted in his gut.

  “It would seem so.”

  He surveyed the street. “We should get out of here.”

  “I need coffee first.”

  A laugh burst from his chest. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.”

  They waited through the line. Got their favorite coffees and a snack, then found a booth in the darkest corner of the shop.

  Her hair was mussed, but it looked good on her. A grin cut across his face.

  She gave him a look. “What’s that all about?”

  “You have—” he reached out and swiped a smudge from her cheek “—a smudge.”

  She leaned away from his touch. “That happens when you crawl around under vehicles.”

  Yeah. He blinked, dropped his gaze and stared at the froth on his coffee. What was he doing? He didn’t want to feel this. Didn’t want to add insult to injury. She obviously hadn’t felt the way he had. As she’d so eloquently put it, he had been a job.

  And he’d been totally head over heels in love with a woman whose name he still didn’t know.

  That slowly simmering mix of anger and frustration ignited.

  “We should go.” He set his coffee aside.

  She sipped long and deep. “Back to the cabin?”

  He forced his mind to focus on business. “There’s no reason to believe they know about the cabin. That may be the only place we’re safe.”

  “I agree.” She finished off her coffee. “You have a strategy in place?”

  “Working on it.” He slid out of the booth. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Too many memories.

  “You planning to share it with me?” She grabbed her bag.

  “When we get to the cabin.” He dug his keys from his pocket. “I’ll go in first. You hang back until I give the all clear.”

  She laughed. “I can take care of myself. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

  He didn’t move as she walked away. Just stood there like the fool he was and watched her move.

  Chapter Eleven