Take the Key and Lock Her Up

by LENA DIAZ,

  Emily ended the call. “While SWAT gears up to secure the area outside, you can explain what was really going on in that alley.”

  He ignored her question and considered their options. SWAT was certainly capable of getting Emily out of the diner and into the police station unharmed. But what about later? When she went home? Devlin would rather keep her with him so he could watch over her. But wouldn’t it be better if he used himself as bait and led them away from the police station? Maybe, in the short term. It was a temporary solution at best because Emily was still vulnerable as long as EXIT thought she was a threat.

  There was another option—tell Emily the truth about EXIT so she’d fully understand the danger. She was an intelligent woman. Faced with the facts, she’d have no choice but to seek protective custody until the danger was over. No; Devlin had learned enough from his law-enforcement family to know that wasn’t a good solution either. When budgets got tight and Emily couldn’t produce any evidence to back up her claims, the protection duty would be canceled. She’d have to go into hiding for the rest of her life, always looking over her shoulder.

  No. Impossible. That wasn’t fair to her, not when it was Devlin’s fault that she was in danger in the first place. One bad decision—allowing her to ride with him in his truck to go see Alex—had set everything in motion. If he’d made her get out, she wouldn’t have seen him kill Hawley’s abductor and wouldn’t have done what no one had the entire time he’d been an enforcer: connected the dots and realized he was an assassin.

  He had to figure out how to ensure her safety long-term. That meant talking to Cyprian again, trying to reason with him so he’d call his dogs off and leave Emily alone. For now, Devlin would just have to allow her to go back to the station under SWAT’s protection. He could make it even safer for her by going out the back and making sure Cougar and his handler saw him. As long as they were trying to kill him, he’d at least have the peace of mind of knowing they weren’t going after Emily.

  “Start explaining, Devlin,” she repeated, sounding annoyed that he hadn’t answered her yet. “And don’t think you can kiss me again to stall for time. I’m onto your game.” Her right hand hovered over her holster, but her gaze dropped to his mouth, as if she were thinking about their kiss.

  The thought of pulling her into his arms and going for round two had him hardening again. What was it about this one specific woman that was so addictive, so compelling? She was nothing like Arianna, his fiancée. She had been kind and sweet, tall and willowy thin, with legs that could have graced a fashion-show runway. He’d always thought of her as the perfect woman. And then he’d met Emily, a little spitfire with generous curves who was a full foot shorter than he was. Arianna would have been horrified if her long, honey-blonde hair was ever out of place. But even though Emily’s shoulder-length brown hair was messy half the time, he thought it looked absolutely perfect on her. The unruly curls reflected her personality and had him longing to tug on them to see if they’d bounce back like a spring.

  “Devlin?” She stared at him, waiting for his explanation about the alley. She was all business and completely unaware that she was confusing the hell out of him and turning his perfectly planned, organized, categorized world upside down.

  The alley. He had to make up a lie about the alley. No problem. He was good at lying. Lies were useful. They were shields against the ugliness of reality. A carefully crafted lie could mean the difference between life and death. So it didn’t bother him at all to lie to Emily right now to protect her—even though he wished he didn’t have to.

  He drew a steadying breath and schooled his features into a look of embarrassment. He wished he knew how to blush to make the lies he was about to tell more convincing.

  “I might have . . . taken advantage . . . of Steve’s sister and taken off without leaving a number. The other guy, on the roof, that was his brother. They came out here for some old-fashioned justice—a shotgun wedding, so to speak. When you entered the picture, I think it spooked them. Things got out of hand.”

  She frowned, weighing his answer. “I can totally see you taking advantage of some naïve young woman and making enemies of her family. Probably got her pregnant too.”

  He gritted his teeth but held on to his sheepish look, barely.

  “I don’t buy the part where they got spooked and started shooting. I identified myself as a police officer.”

  He shrugged. “Did you smell Steve’s breath? I figure he and Jack pumped up their courage with one too many beers before they confronted me. Alcohol and good judgment don’t exactly mix.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “It’s what, nine o’clock in the morning? And you expect me to believe they’re already drunk?”

  Shoot. He hadn’t thought of that.

  “What about the silencer?” she demanded. “Did you think I didn’t notice one of the guys had a noise suppressor? Your average Joe doesn’t exactly walk around with expensive, illegal equipment like that.”

  “It’s not illegal if you register a suppressor with the ATF. Steve and Jack are typical gun nuts. They probably have concealed weapon permits too.”

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. He tried not to feel offended that she was buying his story so easily. He wasn’t in the habit of seducing innocent young women and taking off like a coward after getting them pregnant.

  “I’m not saying I totally believe you,” she said. “You may have made this all up on the fly. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now. We need to get across the street and sit down for another interview. I already had a boatload of questions for you even before that fiasco in the alley.”

  “Sure, let me call Alex first so he can sit in on the interview.” From the aggravated look on her face, he could tell she didn’t like that, just as he’d hoped. He pulled out his cell phone to complete his bluff.

  She hurried forward and wrapped her hand around the phone. Since he didn’t let it go, that meant her hand was essentially holding his. He found that he didn’t mind that one bit. He grinned. She snatched her hand away and backed up a few steps, her face flushing a delightful pink.

  “There’s no reason to involve a lawyer,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t press charges against you for this debacle, as long as you answer a few harmless questions and you don’t call Alex.”

  “What kinds of questions?”

  “I want Steve’s and Jack’s full names so I can follow up with them. There’s a whole host of charges I’ll lay at their door.”

  He nodded his agreement. He could make up a last name to go along with the fake first names.

  “And I want to talk to you about what you do at EXIT.”

  “No.”

  She blinked. “No?” Her cell phone beeped. She grabbed it impatiently and took the call. A few seconds later, she shoved the phone back in her pocket. “Tuck’s outside. The SWAT team is set up and ready to cover us in case those two yokels decide to start shooting again. The area is secure. Let’s go.” She headed toward the door.

  “Wait.”

  She turned, her brows raised in question.

  He braced his legs in a wide stance and crossed his arms. “If I’m not under arrest, there’s no reason for me to go to the police station.”

  Her mouth firmed into a tight line. “You’re not under arrest only if you agree to the deal I offered. The man who killed Shannon Fisher and the unidentified victims in that basement is holding at least two other women right now doing God only knows what to them. All I’m asking you to do is answer some questions to help me find them so I can save their lives. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Of course it did. But he also knew Kelly Parker and anyone with her couldn’t be saved by Emily and her fellow cops. It was becoming increasingly clear that Kelly was the bait in a trap to catch him. The killer would keep her alive, maybe even provide proof of life at some point, to lure Devlin to wherever she was being held. Did he care about her suffering? Of course. Which meant he had to
come up with a plan to save her without charging full speed ahead and getting himself killed. Because once the killer eliminated his main prey—Devlin—he’d have no reason to keep either of the women alive.

  He braced himself for his next lie. If Emily thought he was bad to supposedly get a woman pregnant and abandon her, she was going to despise him after this next one.

  “Finding and saving those women is your job,” he said. “I have other things to do that are a lot more fun than sitting in an interrogation room.”

  The shocked, disgusted look that crossed her face was no worse than the way he felt inside. Like a jerk, and a damn coward. But if sacrificing his pride kept her safe, so be it. He had to get outside and offer himself as bait to lead his enemies away from the diner before she went out the front. He strode past her to the bathroom door.

  “Stop, Devlin, or I’ll shoot.”

  He slowly turned around. Seeing his sexy little detective pointing a gun at him again seemed every kind of wrong, especially when his blood was still raging from the hot kiss they’d just shared.

  “Seriously?” he said, faking shock. “You’re drawing on an unarmed man? Again? What will Drier say about that? Or Alex? I smell a lawsuit.”

  She stomped her foot in frustration.

  The urge to laugh at her childish action had him clenching his teeth. She was the perfect blend of innocence, naïveté, and just plain stubbornness. Before he did something they’d both regret—like kiss her again—he slipped out of the bathroom.

  A quick side trip through the kitchen too quickly for anyone to even question his presence and he was down the back hallway, standing at the rear exit. Now all he had to do was make it to some kind of cover—without getting shot—and lead Cougar and his handler away from Emily, all without a weapon of his own to return fire.

  Simple. No problem. He shook his head and cursed his decision to go to the police station this morning. Then again, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten to kiss Emily. If he were killed in the next few minutes, at least he’d die with that intoxicating memory still lingering on his lips.

  He cracked the door open and scanned the nearby buildings. Then he flung the door wide and took off running.

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  EMILY SHUT THE conference-room door behind her and crossed the squad room. Tuck’s face was alight with curiosity as he scooted his chair beside her desk, like a lion lying in wait for his prey.

  “Well, what did they say?” He waved toward the glass-walled conference room as if she didn’t know who “they” were.

  After spending the past half hour being grilled by Lieutenant Drier and the FBI about the alley shootout and whether it could be connected to the case, she wasn’t likely to get confused on that point. Since Pierce and Tessa Buchanan were among the agents in the conference room, it had been particularly challenging to explain what had happened and why she hadn’t brought Devlin in to give a statement.

  It would have been less challenging if she’d told them the whole truth. Embarrassment had kept her quiet about the more intimate details. But something else had kept her from mentioning what she’d said to Cyprian about EXIT and Devlin’s possible role in the company. Why? She supposed part of it was that Drier and Tuck had already shot down her theories about EXIT. But there was something else. She didn’t want to get Devlin into any trouble.

  Yesterday, concern for Devlin wouldn’t have stopped her. But today, after that life-altering kiss, and after he’d risked his life—again—to save her, everything had changed. Whether she wanted him to or not, he was starting to matter. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She was tasked with upholding her city’s laws. Devlin might possibly be a criminal; one of the worst kind, someone who killed for money. How she could care about him even a little bit was baffling. Especially since lying to protect him could impact her ability to solve the case.

  All she could think of to excuse her actions was that she knew, deep in her bones, that there was more to Devlin than he showed to the world. She’d caught several glimpses of the good in him—like every time he helped another person, like Virginia Hawley, or risked his life for them, like he’d done for Emily. It was that core of goodness inside him that had her craving his company, wanting to get to know him better, and wanting to help him get out of whatever mess he’d gotten into as a result of his connection with EXIT. In short, she wanted to save him.

  Maybe her momma was right. Maybe she should have been a doctor instead of a cop, because lying to the FBI and her boss was every kind of wrong for someone in law enforcement.

  “Earth to Emily. Hello,” Tuck’s voice called out.

  She was standing by her desk, staring at the conference room but not really seeing it.

  “You okay? I think you might have fallen asleep on your feet.”

  She latched onto that excuse as she sat. “Yeah, I suppose I need to go home per the original plan and get some shut-eye.”

  “Agreed. But not until you give me the scoop. I’m sure Drier wasn’t happy that SWAT had to be called out when he’s trying to brief the FBI on the case in time for the press conference.”

  “Understatement. He blames me for making him split our resources since he has to send a CSI team to the alley and canvass the area for witnesses. But since the FBI was with him, he kept his growls to a dull roar. I’m sure he’ll make up for it later.”

  “And?”

  “And not much. The scoop is mostly what you already know. Our efforts to find the missing women have failed so far. Since time is of the essence if we’re going to find them alive, Drier swallowed his pride and asked the FBI for help. He’s reviewing the case with them right now. As for the shooting in the alley, they’re all in agreement that it’s probably unrelated.”

  Tuck leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “What about Devlin Buchanan? They think it’s a coincidence he was involved in two different police incidents in two days, but the incidents aren’t related? What about his brother and sister-in-law? What did they say about it?”

  “Officially, Pierce and Tessa agree with the others. The two events are unrelated, just coincidences. Unofficially, I got the impression both of them were worried about Devlin. I imagine they’ll be calling him as soon as the meeting is over. Good luck with that. I tried calling him a dozen times when he left me in that diner. He’s not answering.”

  Tuck’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about him.”

  She shrugged, pretending indifference. “I need to take his statement on the shooting to get me out of hot water with Drier. But on top of that, yeah, there are a couple of gun-toting crazies after him for some country justice and I don’t know where he is. Of course I’m concerned. I’d be concerned about anyone in those circumstances.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not buying it. I think you’re obsessed with this guy. I think you care way more about him than you would the average citizen on the street.”

  “I am not obsessed with him,” she whispered, casting an anxious glance around the squad room. “How about we drop him as a subject and brainstorm the case?”

  “What about that nap you’re supposed to take?”

  “In a few minutes. Humor me.”

  He rested his forearms on her desk. “All right. Let’s start with the house where the victims were found.”

  “Owned by the city.” She quoted the facts from memory. “Forcibly seized by eminent domain five years ago for a construction project. Funding was cut. Project canceled. No one lives there. And none of the neighbors live close enough to notice if some homeless guy, or a serial killer, took up residence.”

  “What about the previous owner? Maybe he’s the killer and is squatting on the property that was taken from him.”

  “The team located the previous owners late last night and ruled them out. They’re senior citizens with mobility issues and live in another state hundreds of miles away.”

  “Okay, I call
that a dead end.” He tapped his fingers on his leg. “I think it’s interesting that we found only skeletons in the basement, no recent kills. I wonder if the killer used that house as his playground at first, then moved to a new location, the one where Hawley was briefly held. If so, why did he bring Hawley back to that basement?”

  “Excellent question, but I’m out of theories right now,” she said. “What about a background report on the deceased vic we’ve identified—Shannon Fisher? Wasn’t the night crew supposed to pull that together?”

  He hesitated, then sighed and leaned back to grab a piece of paper off the top of his desk. “I probably shouldn’t let you look at this.”

  “Why not?”

  “It might send you off on a tangent.”

  She snatched the report. One key word immediately caught her attention. She drew a sharp breath. “Shannon Fisher was a tour guide for EXIT? Was that listed on the missing persons report her parents filed?”

  “I knew you’d zero in on that. And yes, it was on the MPR too. Things are happening so fast, I didn’t catch that yesterday when we figured out Fisher was one of the vics. Regardless, the detective who filed the MPR did his due diligence. He called human resources at her place of work and asked about her. They said no one there knew she was missing because she was on long-term leave.”

  “I spoke to Cyprian yesterday. He didn’t mention anything about that.”

  Tuck shrugged. “Why would he? He’s the CEO, and it’s a big company. He wouldn’t know or interact with every employee. Human resources wouldn’t have had any reason to tell the CEO about an employee going missing.”

  “Who was her direct boss?”

  “Some low guy on the totem pole, according to HR. You’re welcome to review the MPR, but I really think this EXIT tie-in is just a coincidence.”