Fade To Gray (Triad Series Book 1)

by Dee Davis

  "I’m sorry," she said, pushing away, suddenly embarrassed by her weakness. It was only a bathroom, for God’s sake, and an empty one at that.

  "There’s no reason to apologize." Gideon kept his arms around her as he tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You’ve been through some serious shit over the past week or so. I’m surprised you’ve kept it together as long as you have. You’re an incredibly strong woman, Emily Masterson, but everyone has a breaking point. Everyone."

  "I know, but nothing happened in the bathroom. I was just remembering that night and…and…"

  "The mind is a funny thing. There is no way to control when it finally screams enough. But I’ve seen enough in my line of work to know that eventually it will. And usually when it’s least expected. The salient point here is that I’ve got you and I’ll keep you safe."

  "But for how long? All this stuff with my father made me forget that someone wants me dead. And unless we can figure out who is behind it all, then the threat is just going to be hovering out there everywhere I go."

  "I know. But we’re working on it. I promise you we’ll find the culprit and put an end to this once and for all." He smoothed the hair back from her face, something in his face making her insides quiver, but not with fear.

  He bent his head and kissed her, his touch powerful and possessive. And she returned it with every bit of passion she could summon. If nothing else, all the hell had brought about this respite—however brief it might be—and she’d never regret this time spent with him.

  With clear regret, he pulled away. "Are you feeling up to talking a bit? That was Declan on the phone. They think they’ve got a lead on the owner of the tattoo. But it would help if you could verify it."

  "Me? I know this man?" The thought sent her stomach skittering again.

  "Looks like it." He hit the button on his cell phone and then blew out a breath. "I need you to look at the still from the elevator footage."

  She swallowed, bile rising. "The one of me with Senator Irwin."

  "Yes," he said, his voice full of apology. "I swear I wouldn’t ask unless it was important."

  She nodded, sucked in a deep breath—and held out her hand. "Let me see it."

  At first, all she could see was herself, head lolling to one side, as the senator held her against his side, caressing her breast with what looked like satisfaction and something she wasn’t ready to put a name to. She shuddered, and Gideon’s arm tightened around her.

  "I’d kill him if he weren’t already dead."

  The thought actually brought comfort. When had she become so blood thirsty? After being bathed in the senator’s blood, a little voice in her head whispered.

  "Em, I know this is hard. But I need you to ignore the elevator and look at the side of the picture here," he said, pointing to the screen.

  She closed her eyes, then opened them again, forcing herself to try to stay detached. "Is that the arm you were talking about? The one with the tattoo?"

  "Exactly."

  "It’s really hard to tell what it is."

  "I know. That’s why we called in Harrison. Now I’m going to switch to an enhanced photo he made. He even manipulated it so that there’s color."

  "Colorizing photos, what will they think of next?" she quipped, trying for levity and failing by a mile.

  "That’s my girl." Gideon’s smile cut through the fear, and she squared her shoulders, looking down at the new image on the screen.

  "I know that tattoo," she said, frowning at the colorful dragon stenciled across a masculine arm. "But it’s not green, it’s blue." She raised her gaze to meet Gideon’s, her gut twisting back into tight little knots. "And there is no way that Jesse Tyler is involved in any of this. He hates the senator. Why would he help him drug me? Why, he was just talking trash about him the other night at Avalon…" She trailed off, her mind sorting the facts and reordering them in a horrifying way.

  "He was there at the club the night I was drugged. Oh my God, he was there."

  "I’m sorry, Em. I know you thought he was a friend."

  "Not a friend really. But I did think he was a good guy. Flakey maybe, but not dangerous. Do you think he was the one who…who killed Tom?"

  "It seems possible. But it doesn’t answer all the questions. Anyway, right now we need to find him. Unfortunately, he seems to have dropped off the radar."

  "But this is the kind of thing you guys excel at, right? Finding people who don’t want to be found?"

  "Exactly what we do. And do well. Which means as much as I want to stay here with you, I need to go. Why don’t you come in with me? I’d feel safer if I had you somewhere I know is safe."

  "Like your apartment?" She smiled to take the sting out of her words.

  "Point taken. But I especially don’t want you going off to your father’s without me."

  "Look, no matter how vile the things he’s done, I know he’d never hurt me."

  "Maybe not, but I still would rather we face him together."

  God, she liked the sound of that last word. But she wasn’t ready for him to know how much she still cared. So she pushed to her feet, keeping her voice brisk and impersonal. "It’s okay, I have to go to a board meeting anyway. Council on the Arts. So you go and do your thing. And I’ll try and steer clear of my father until we’ve had a chance to talk about it again." She should probably feel ashamed of the relief that washed through her.

  "I could have someone drive you."

  "Gideon, I’ll be surrounded by people all day. I’ll get an Uber. They’re super safe."

  "If you’re going to go on your own, I’d rather you take my car. At least it’s a known quantity. And it’s wired so that Ryder can track it if necessary."

  "So now you’re going to watch every move I make?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  "If that’s what it takes to make sure you’re safe, then yes. I am." He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms, his breath caressing her face. "I know we still have things to work out between us. But last night was a hell of a beginning. And I’m not going to let you go out there and threaten our chances because of some misguided need for independence. There’s a killer on the loose. And until we find him, someone has to watch out for you."

  "And that someone is you." She tilted her head back, willingly offering surrender.

  "Damn right," he mumbled as his lips took possession of hers.

  The kiss was hot and wild, filled with passion and promise. He was right, there was still so much standing between them. Her father. A killer. Gideon’s lack of faith. And hers. But despite all of that, for the first time in a really long time, Emily felt a tiny glimmer of hope.

  CHAPTER 22

  "I TAKE IT THAT SINCE Emily isn’t here, the big reveal didn’t go well?" Jules Clarke strode into Blake’s study as if she owned the damn place.

  "Who let you in?" he barked before he had a chance to think about what she was saying. "The doorman knows better than to let people come up to the apartment unannounced."

  "Whether you admit it or not, I’m family."

  "You’re my daughter’s friend and because of that I tolerate you. Although I lay this whole debacle at your feet."

  "How do you figure that?" Jules asked, her nose scrunching in distaste. "I had nothing to do with your plot against Gideon Sloan."

  Just for a moment Blake felt a twinge of fear. What did the little bitch know? Surely nothing about the break-in. Then he frowned, remembering her first words, his skin prickling with awareness. "What are you talking about?" He tried but failed to keep the worry from his voice.

  "I’m talking about Emily’s discovery." It was Jules’ turn to frown. "Didn’t she tell you?"

  "She hasn’t been here." Blake pushed back from his desk, his worry blossoming to full-fledged fear. "In fact, I thought she was staying with you." He reached for a piece of paper. "She said she was going to your apartment."

  "She was there. She needed a friend. Between you and Gideon, she’
s confused as hell."

  "About?"

  "You really haven’t seen her?" Jules looked surprised and for some reason almost pleased.

  "No. So tell me what the hell you’re talking about." His concern ratcheted up another notch.

  Jules dropped into the chair facing the desk, steepling her fingers as she watched him. "She knows the truth. About the oil deal. The attempt to frame Gideon. All of it."

  "What the hell are you talking about? There was no frame-up. Gideon Sloan betrayed me and my company. And worse, he betrayed Emily." The words were so engrained they’d almost become truth.

  "Nice story, but I’m afraid it won’t wash anymore. Emily has the paperwork that proves Gideon’s innocence and your guilt."

  Anger sparked. "I’m not guilty of anything but loving my daughter. Too many people, you and Sloan included, leech onto Emily in the vain hope that you’ll gain something by association."

  "You don’t love anyone but yourself. And you are certainly nobody’s idea of a good father." Jules sat up, eyes flashing. "And just for the record, Emily was devastated by your betrayal."

  "There was no betrayal." And that was the God’s honest truth. Everything he’d done had been to protect Emily—which was the exact opposite of betrayal. Sometimes as a father he had to take measures to insure her well-being. And sometimes, like with Irwin, he made a miscalculation. But everything—everything—he did was for his daughter.

  "Well, I suppose it’s all in the eyes of the beholder," Jules grated out. "But you’ll be interested to know that I pulled a few strings and verified the facts presented as best I could. And, at the very least, I can guarantee that the proof presented to free Gideon Sloan wasn’t fabricated. He wasn’t involved in buying terrorist oil. You were."

  "And you have proof of the latter?" Blake leaned forward, wishing he’d kicked the bitch out of Emily’s life years ago.

  "No. But Emily does."

  "She’d never use it against me. Besides, you forget, I have proof too and you know as well as I do that competing evidence could keep a case tied up in court for years. Even a criminal one—"

  "I don’t know." She shrugged, the gesture at odds with the fire in her eyes. "The government’s keen on taking down traitors these days. Not to mention the fact that you’ve always underestimated Emily. She was destroyed by what you did. And now she’s grieving. But the very fact that she didn’t come to you last night tells me that she’s also angry. And just maybe—this time—you’ve pushed her too far."

  "Emily is my daughter. Her loyalty will always be to me." He pushed to his feet, wanting to throttle something. "This is all Gideon Sloan’s fault. The bastard would pull this kind of a stunt when she’s already reeling from everything that happened with Irwin. He’s taking advantage of her while she’s hurting."

  "As if you wouldn’t do the same? I don’t trust Gideon Sloan any more than I trust you. Neither of you are good for Emily. But he wasn’t the one to give her the papers. Ryder Kincaid was."

  "Gideon’s lackey." He waved a dismissive hand. "It’s the same thing."

  "Except that Gideon didn’t know he was going to do it."

  "I don’t believe that. And neither will Emily. She’s smart enough to see through that bastard and his low-life friends. She’s too good for the lot of them."

  "You really do see the world through a fucked-up lens, Blake. Lies become reality and truth is buried under rhetoric that plays the way you want it to play. Except that now the truth is out. And I suspect there’s going to be hell to pay."

  "Well, it won’t be me. And it certainly won’t be Emily."

  "Of course it won’t. Emily is never touched by anything, is she? I mean, she wakes up in bed with a dead man and she waltzes away without anyone being the wiser."

  "And you call yourself her friend," he spat, wondering what it was his daughter saw in this woman.

  "I am her friend. But one of these days something is going to happen and neither you nor Gideon Sloan will be there to pick up the pieces and what the hell will happen to Emily then?"

  "I’ll always be there for my daughter. Always. Protecting her—keeping the predators at bay."

  "Maybe," Jules said, her eyes sparking with anger. "But who’s going to protect Emily from you?"

  *****

  "I’M SORRY I HAVE to leave you at home," Emily said, heading down the stairs, Bailey trailing at her feet. "But the people at the Council kind of frown on bringing dogs to meetings. And you wouldn’t be happy waiting in the car." She smiled down at her dog as they reached the bottom of the stairs and headed into the kitchen.

  The brownstone felt empty without Gideon’s presence. Which was stupid, really, considering he’d only been in the place twice. And one of those had been for less than fifteen minutes, with Emily unconscious.

  Or maybe that was the relevant fact, because if he hadn’t been there, then she most likely wouldn’t be here now. She shivered, then shook her head and reached into the cabinet for Bailey’s dog food. No point in dwelling on the past or the fact that someone had tried to kill her. All she could do was move forward, and have faith that Gideon would get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on.

  Considering the fact that she hadn’t laid eyes on the man for years before he rescued her from Tom Irwin’s hotel room, she was putting a lot of faith in him. If Jules were here she’d be reading her the riot act for not being more cautious. And her father…well, if he knew she’d spent the night with Gideon, he’d go ballistic.

  Pain rippled through her, tears pricking her eyes. Not that it mattered anymore. Her father had betrayed her in the worst possible way and almost destroyed an innocent man in the process. And if Jack Wetherston was to be believed, her father had been tangled up in Irwin’s schemes. All of which left her feeling as if the world had fallen off its axis.

  Nothing was as it seemed.

  Not her father. Not Gideon. And, if she were honest, not even herself. She’d pretended not to care about Gideon for so long she’d almost started to believe it was true, and then, last night, everything she felt for him had pushed to the surface again. She’d wanted him, yes, but she’d needed him more. Needed his strength. His love. And just the thought of that scared her to death.

  What if she allowed herself to care and then somehow lost him all over again? Or worse, what if he decided he didn’t want her? After all, she’d been the one to betray him, albeit unwittingly. She sighed. There was nothing gained in having a pity party. Although the idea was tempting.

  Bailey whined softly, his mournful eyes staring up at the bag of dog food still clutched in her hands. "Sorry, fella. Too much time to think." She poured the kibble into his bowl and set it down on the floor next to his water. Bailey attacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. The simple joys of being a dog.

  "So," she said, watching as he swallowed the last of his food. "You’ve eaten. You’ve got water. And your doggy door is open." Her gaze shot to the battered basement door, and she shivered again, suddenly needing to get the hell out of Dodge. "I’ll see you this afternoon, okay?"

  She grabbed her purse and the keys Gideon had left her. The stack of papers sat on the counter where she’d left them last night. At some point she had to face her father. But maybe Gideon was right. Maybe it would be better if they did it together. Or maybe she was just using that as an excuse to avoid the confrontation.

  Either way, it didn’t matter. Right now she had a meeting to attend. And the prospect of concentrating on something that had nothing to do with killers and dead men was exactly what she needed.

  She locked the brownstone’s door and then walked down the steps to the sidewalk. Gideon’s silver Mercedes sat right in front, just as he’d said. Her mind traveled back to last night and despite everything hanging over her, she smiled. If nothing else, the passion she and Gideon shared certainly hadn’t diminished. In fact, it seemed to have grown stronger over time. As if their being apart had only left it simmering—waiting.

  Sh
e lifted the key fob and pressed it to unlock the car just as Mrs. McNamara called out from her stoop. Although the woman was a busy-body, she was also a good neighbor. Emily turned away from the car and started toward the older lady. But before she took another step sound exploded through the street, a wave of heat lifting her from the sidewalk. She saw Mrs. McNamara’s eyes go wide, her mouth opening in a scream, and then the wave or whatever it was slammed her into the trunk of a nearby gingko tree.

  Fire shot into the sky and debris rained down, shrapnel cutting into her skin. She tried to push to her feet, but nothing seemed to be working right. Her ears were ringing, and pain shot through her head and shoulder. What was left of Gideon’s car was now a blazing inferno. She struggled to make sense of what had happened, but blackness rushed at her with the same intensity as the wave of heat.

  She tried to fight it, but it surrounded her, pulling her deeper, and as she sank into oblivion, her last thought was that someone had tried to kill her—again.

  *****

  "OKAY, I KNOW you’re pissed," Ryder said as they pulled into the parking lot of the no-tell motel in Jersey where Jesse Tyler was apparently holed up. "But considering where you spent the night, I’d say it worked out pretty well."

  "If you don’t want me to shove your teeth out your ass, I’d shut the fuck up."

  "Yeah, I’d say he was pissed all right." Declan grinned as he checked his gun and then opened his car door. "But now isn’t the time, ladies. We’ve got more important things to deal with than Ryder’s interest in your love life."

  "It’s a hell of a lot more than that and you know it." Gideon checked his own gun and stepped out of the car.

  "Hey, I just did what I thought needed to be done. You and Emily belong together, and all Blake Masterson’s crap shouldn’t have been allowed to stand in the way. I know I over-stepped, but I’m not apologizing for it."