by Taylor Lee
Annika laughed. “I keep telling you not to underestimate a former biker babe. But you go ahead. I’m going to go in and see if Erin and Kait need any help. Don’t break anything.”
Sam frowned then relented. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Okay, but don’t be long. I need an Annika fix at least every two minutes or I start acting like the big guy and we all know what that’s like.”
Annika had just said her hello’s to the women bustling in the busy kitchen when her phone vibrated. Glancing down at the caller I.D. she saw it was Ralph Wiese, the upstart accountant who was as devious and semi-crooked as his older partner.
“Erin, is there some place I can take this call?”
Erin directed her to Nate’s study with a big smile. “If that’s a business call, Annika, you better close the door. This party is right on the verge of mayhem.”
Ralph’s southern drawl spilled from the phone like warm honey, every exclamation more outrageous then the former. If not for the seriousness of his information, Annika would have laughed. As it was, she grabbed a sheet of paper and rummaged in the desk drawer for a pen.
“Go for it, Ralph. What have you got?”
“Everything your sweet little heart could want, Sugar Cakes. I’m tellin’ you Ahh-ne-ka, when I’m finished you’re gonna be kissin’ that righteous black dude good bye, and hoppin’ aboard the RW Express. And, honey, when you park that pretty little caboose of yours on my engine, I promise you a ride you’ll never forget.”
When Annika laughed. Nunn’s voice came over the speaker.
“Cut the bullshit, Ralph. Lt. Nilsson doesn’t have time to deal with your nonsense.”
“Nonsense? Damn, Nunn. I’m insulted. That’s my gold-plated foreplay. Works every time.”
Ten minutes later, with fully five pages of notes, Annika decided she could put up with any amount of sexually inappropriate harassment if it netted her the kind of information the two cronies had unearthed.
Nunn’s voice was uncustomarily cheerful. “Yes, Lieutenant, your hunches and theories were 100% on target.”
Ralph drawled in agreement. “You’ve got him, Sugar Cakes. Now go pin that asshole’s balls to the wall. By this time tomorrow you’ll have enough hard evidence to arrest him for collusion. Knowing that asswipe, he’ll give up the firebug on the spot just to save his sorry ass. But who needs him? Not with a smart girl like you on the case. You were right about both of them, Hot Stuff. By tomorrow we won’t need the big guy to rat out his stooge. You’ll be able to bring them both in at once.”
Nunn’s gruff voice broke in. “You’re a smart girl, Annika. Scary smart. I wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of you. So you tell that big badboy detective, he better watch out. If he thought Sam was competition, with you on the scene, they both better be watchin’ their six.”
Annika allowed a wave of satisfaction to overtake her. By damn, Nunn and Wiese were right. Her instincts and all her hard work had paid off. It was one thing to identify the culprits. It was another to get the evidence to bring them in. She couldn’t wait to tell Sam and Nate.
Annika’s phone beeped and she pulled it out, thinking it was Nunn and Wiese. Instead she saw a text from Fred Dalton, Connor’s second in command. Fred, a long time firefighter, had been a terrific resource on the case. He’d been the one to identify the accelerant, a key factor in any arson case. His message was cryptic and compelling. “Meet me at the site, Lt. May have found the source of the diethyl ether.”
Much as she hated to leave the party, Annika couldn’t ignore Fred’s request. She knew every firefighter in the CFFD was working today. Fred wouldn’t have contacted her if it weren’t important. She looked out the wall of windows in the great room for Sam. She needed his car. She stepped back with a frown when she spotted him. From what she could see, every physically fit woman under the age of twenty-five had somehow made it on to Sam’s team. Or at least that was the group crowding around him in a huddle. Pressing her lips together in a straight line, she headed for the kitchen.
“Erin, can I borrow your car? I just got a text from Fred Dalton. He needs me to meet him. Sam’s busy fending off the secretarial pool and I don’t want to interrupt.”
Erin broke away from the cluster of women who were arranging salads and loading trays of meats for the barbecue. She grabbed her keys from a hook on the pantry wall and handed them to Annika. Her brows tightened in a concerned frown.
“Of course you can use my car. But, Annika, shouldn’t you tell Sam where you’re going? He’ll be worried.”
Annika sniffed. “I doubt it. He seems to be enjoying the football game. And we wouldn’t want to disappoint the bevy of butterflies surrounding him, now would we? “
Ignoring Erin’s surprised gulp, Annika refused to be embarrassed. She knew she sounded like a spiteful, jealous woman, and dammit, maybe that’s just what she was. But she couldn’t suppress the old insecurities nagging her. Why did she think that every woman who saw him wouldn’t be as gaga over Sam as she was? She flinched at the sharp pang in her chest, realizing that this was what life with Sam would be like. One gorgeous guy and a never ending throng of eager women panting for his attention. Great. Just what she’d always wanted.
~~~
As she neared the site, her cop instincts flared. She knew Erin was right. Sam would be worried when he discovered she’d left. Besides, every good cop knew backup was important. Something about the eerie quiet of the Lakeside Estates property sent a shiver up her spine as she pulled up in front of the office trailer, next to Fred’s CFFD squad. Before her independent streak could take over, she took out her phone, turned it back on, and typed out a quick text to Sam. By the time he got it, she’d likely be back at the party. She grimaced. A typical CYA move, but at least he couldn’t say she hadn’t told him where she was going.
When she opened the door, hollering out to Fred that she was here, she wished she’d sent her text sooner. Fred’s crumpled body lay by the door, a circle of blood pooling around his head.
Annika swallowed hard.
“Is he dead?”
“I’d venture to say that’s an affirmative. My dear.”
Chapter 14
Brennan Corcoran’s smile didn’t reach his cold eyes.
“Perhaps, I should qualify that. That irascible fellow isn’t dead yet, but he soon will be. As will you, my dear.”
Punctuating that assessment, Annika heard a familiar click. At the same time she felt cold metal pressing against the base of her skull.
~~~
Sam frowned. “What do you mean, Annika’s gone? Where did she go, Erin?”
Nate had arrived just as Sam began looking for Annika.
Erin faced both men, her concern apparent.
“God, I’m sorry, Sam. I shouldn’t have given her my car or… or at least insisted that she let you know she was leaving. She was upset. I knew that. We were just so busy here, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have.”
Sam’s chest tightened painfully.
“Erin, all I care about is where she went and why.”
Erin flushed. “That’s just it, Sam. I don’t know. She got an important call and asked where she could take it. She was in your office, Nate, for about ten minutes. When she came out she looked upset and asked if she could borrow my car. Said she had to meet Fred Dalton. I assumed it was something to do with Lakeside. “
Erin threw Sam a troubled look.
“She said she didn’t want to bother you, Sam. That you looked like you were enjoying the football game. Especially… all the women on your team. I… I should have stopped her. I’m sorry, Sam.”
Sam fought against the mix of anger and concern. Damn her. What was it going to take to convince her that the only woman who mattered to him was her? He dragged out his phone and hit her number, hissing when the call went straight to voicemail. Worse, there were no calls from her, or messages of any kind. Staring at the blank screen his anger faded and his anxiety spiked. Dammit. Where w
as she? Seeing similar concern on Nate’s face, he snapped, “Nate, do you have a tracer on Erin’s car?”
Nate barked out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? Who the hell are you talking to? I’m the guy who’s tried to LoJack Erin in her sleep but she refuses to let me chip her.”
Ignoring Erin’s eyeroll and exasperated sigh, Nate met Sam’s hard stare.
“Sorry. Yeah, man. I got an excellent system on her car. We can pull it up on the screen in the Porsche.”
As they raced to the driveway, Nate squeezed Sam’s shoulder.
“I understand you’re concerned, bro. But remember, Annika is a loner through and through. She’s also a woman. And you know as well as I do that’s a bad combination. She’s likely to head to the hills to lick her wounds in private. Especially if she’s pissed at you—which the evidence seems to be saying she is.”
Sam jumped into the passenger seat and began pulling up the coordinates Nate rattled off.
“I hope you’re right, Nate. I’d like nothing better than to think that she’s mad at me for some reason that I can quickly fix. But I have to tell you, man, my gut says it’s more than that.”
Nate sucked in an audible breath.
“I can’t lie to you, Sam. My gut’s tellin’ me the same thing. Let’s go find that woman of yours before she does something stupid.”
Sam agreed. The vise gripping his chest tightened. Like all the special ops guys he knew, he and Nate lived by the motto: ‘assume the worst’. They were rarely wrong.
As they roared from one corner to the next, whipping by unsuspecting drivers, Sam heard his phone beep. His relief at seeing the message was from Annika died when he read it.
“S. Emergency message from Fred D. At the LE site. Be careful. A.”
“Fuck.”
Nate agreed. “That about sums it up, bro. I don’t like this one bit. Too many wildcards. And that feisty woman of yours is right in the middle of it. Given that attitude of hers, she’s likely been pokin’ a stick in somebody’s eyes. But what in the hell does Fred have to do with it?”
Ignoring Nate’s question, Sam asked, “What do you have in your trunk, Nate?”
“Name it. What do you need? Remember I’ve never been S.W.A.T. like you, but that doesn’t mean my trunk isn’t a virtual armory.”
“You have a Heckler & Koch PSG1?”
“Just so happens I do.”
Sam nodded, his brows drawn together in a hard frown, his eyes focused on the screen. Seeing the flashing light on the screen indicating Annika had stopped at the Lakeside development, Sam assumed command.
“Park at a distance. We’ll want to go in low.”
~~~
“Do you really want to add murder to your rap, Brennan?”
Corcoran snorted. “It’s a little late for that concern, wouldn’t you say, Annika? Thanks to my partner here, we already have one dead body.
“Fuck it, Brennan. Leo was an accident. Just so we’re clear, I’m not killing her OR Dalton.”
Not able to turn her head, Annika shivered at the sound of Garrett Baker’s voice. Even though she’d pegged him as Corcoran’s accomplice, she was still shocked that a fellow police officer would have fallen so low and was the one holding a loaded gun to her head.
Corcoran’s eyes flashed ominously.
“Excuse me, Sergeant Baker. Just so you’re clear, you will do precisely as I tell you or you can forget that little overseas jaunt you’ve been planning. While your pyromaniac skills are commendable, killing the old man was not on my ‘to do’ list.”
“It wasn’t on mine either, asshole. But mistakes happen. Now that I got both Fred and the little pussy here, you can do whatever you want with them. Just give me the money you owe me and I’m out of here.”
“Hmm. What I owe you for turning a simple fire escapade that old Leo could have pulled off into a murder? Do you have any idea how that murder has changed the game? Think about it this way, Baker. Our ‘arsonist’ killed once, what’s a couple more bodies?”
“Jesus, Corcoran! Listen to yourself. Are you insane? I don’t mind setting another god dammed fire. But you want her to die in it? And Fred too? Fuck! You do it! Leo was an accident. This would be premeditated.”
Corcoran nodded, his lips tightening in an ugly sneer. “Oh indeed. Premeditated—and necessary. If you plan to get your share of the insurance money you most certainly will get rid of the “obstacles” standing in our way.”
Annika took a chance. Seeing an opportunity to broaden the rift between the two men, she spoke to Baker.
“Think about what he is saying, Sergeant. He plans to have you take the rap no matter who does it. The problem is Mr. Corcoran hasn’t been straight with you. He has a history you probably don’t know. This isn’t his first attempt to profit from arson. He and his partners in the Western Vista Development in Colorado are still in court trying to bust an arson rap. They’ve paid millions of dollars in legal fees. Enough to bankrupt your ‘smart’ partner. He’s learned, Sergeant Baker, from that failed adventure.”
Annika was gratified to see Corcoran’s face pale then flush dangerously.
“I suggest you stop talking, Lieutenant. Sergeant Baker is not stupid. He has participated in enough interrogations with that fucking asshole Nate Stryker to know what you’re doing. Cause problems between Baker and me? Make us question one another? Interrogation 101, right Lieutenant? And you think Sergeant Baker is dumb enough to fall for it?”
Baker shoved the gun in her neck so hard it felt like he’d pierced the skin. Annika forced her breathing to slow, knowing that one slight move could cause Baker to lose it. For a brief second that stretched in time, she thought about Sam. Oh God, what she would do to be safe in his arms. Why, why had it been so difficult to reach out to him? The memory of his body wrapped around her, his lips on hers, was comforting and then painful. Because of her petty jealousy, her inability to ask for help, she was on her own—where she’d always insisted she wanted to be.
“No, Brennan, the sergeant isn’t dumb. He’s a cop and according to Detective Stryker, he’s always been a good cop—until the last six months. About the time he connected with you, correct?” Ignoring Corcoran’s rigid jaw and hard cold stare, Annika took her biggest chance. She had one more card to play. She prayed it was good enough to save her life.
~~~
Sam went into sniper mode. Laying on the ground, hidden in the trees, he could see all three of them clearly through the window twenty yards away. Peering through the scope, the gun barrel pressed against Annika’s neck was so clear that he could see the indentation it made in her flesh. Where he found the strength he’d never know. Later, the best he could do to explain was to credit the years of training, the innumerable hours of practice he’d had. The day-long meditations where he learned to control his breath, visualize the shot he would take. Slow, steady breaths until his trigger finger became an extension of his rifle. He’d killed more men in his lifetime than entire platoons had killed. He killed evil men who needed to die. Men who threatened his team, his country, or innocent people. But he had never pointed his rifle at a man who was holding a gun at the head of the woman he loved. Later, he would come to grips with that reality. But now he waited, breathing slow and deep, praying that Annika’s training would also kick in. That somehow, someway she would give him a shot. A shot at an armed policeman with fifteen years of experience, who would not hesitate to kill and who had nothing to lose by adding one more victim to his trail.
~~~
Annika focused her gaze on Corcoran, but her message was to Baker.
“Yes, Sergeant Baker, your partner is an expert at defrauding insurance companies. Expert… but not perfect. He learned a few things from painful experience, when he and his cronies were unable to capitalize on the fires they set in their Western Vistas project. But surely Brennan told you about that escapade, correct? It’s why he insisted that the policy on Lakeside include a clause that the insurance company would pay his legal fees shoul
d he fail in court to prove that the fires were accidental. Clever. The actions of a man who learns from his mistakes.”
Knowing that she had only the slimmest of chances to make Baker falter, Annika went for the jugular.
“Tell me about American Dream Homes.”
Gratified at the Baker’s harsh gasp and the shock in Corcoran’s eyes, Annika pressed.
“Another smart move. You’re partners, right? You’re in it to-geth-er, correct? Just the two of you. Buddies to the end. That’s why you formed the shell company. Whose idea was it to buy a $5 million key man insurance policy? Yours, Sergeant? Hmm, unlikely. No, it was Brennan’s idea, who as we know is an expert in scamming insurance companies. Did you read the policy, Garrett? I did. If one of you dies, the company is the beneficiary. And since the ‘company’ is just the two of you—the surviving partner makes off like a bandit.” She breathed slow, easy, deep. Almost… ready.
“Smart, devious, and guess who wins? You, Sergeant? No, I’m confident that after you set this next fire, and Fred and I are killed, you’re going to have an accident. My guess is a car accident. Drunk driving most likely. You are drinking a lot, aren’t you, Sergeant? Such an easy accident to arrange. And poof! When you are gone, guess who’s the surviving partner in American Dream Homes—and $5 million richer?”
At Baker’s shocked gasp, Annika made her move. In the seconds that followed, she jerked to the side and hit the ground; the Kimber from her boot flew to her hand. The roar of the bullet and Baker’s scream confirmed she’d hit her mark. But in the timeless space before she fired, too late, she saw the flash of steel in Corcoran’s hand. Where the volley of gunshots came from she didn’t know. All she heard was Corcoran’s scream—and hers, before blessed darkness blotted out the blinding pain.
Chapter 15
“She’s fine, Commander. All of her vitals are within normal range. She’s lost a lot of blood, but as soon as we get her to the hospital we’ll transfuse her.”
Annika tried to tell them she didn’t need to go to the hospital, but her lips felt numb. In the blur she heard the sirens, the shouts of the men, the squeal of the squads. Somewhere in the distance she heard Nate shouting out commands and saw Connor’s pale face lined with concern. But next to her, his unique smell comforting her, was Sam. He was holding her hand. Murmuring comforting words. Telling her she was safe. That she’d soon be fine.
