by Cassie Miles
“Guts and greed,” Cole said. “Follow us and don’t be too obvious.”
“By the way.” A wide grin split the old man’s wrinkled face. His gold tooth gleamed. “How’s your wife?”
His wife?
The inside of her head exploded.
Cole was married?
She watched Xavier scamper to his red SUV like an evil leprechaun. She couldn’t trust a word he said. He wanted to get back at Cole, to cause him strife.
Desperately wanting to believe that Xavier had been lying, she turned her gaze on Cole. His cognac eyes held a seriousness that she had never seen before.
“Rachel,” he said, “I’ve never lied to you.”
That wasn’t an answer. She’d asked him dozens of questions about his prior girlfriends and relationships, but she had never actually asked if he had a wife. “Are you married?”
“I can explain.”
He hadn’t denied it, and she didn’t want to be sucked into whatever deceptive ruse he was playing. The man lied for a living. He changed identities every other day. “Yes or no?”
“It’s a technicality. No big deal.”
She repeated, “Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
Anger and hurt knotted in her gut. A flush of heat crawled up her throat and strangled her. Once again, she’d fallen for a bad boy—another man in the long line of dashing, sexy, handsome jerks who ultimately betrayed her. “Don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear your phony explanations. Let’s get this over with and say goodbye.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Damn right.”
She held up his cell phone and tried to remember how to contact Jenna Cambridge. Pearl had given them the phone number. Was it in the memory? She thrust the phone toward Cole. “Get Jenna on the line.”
“I should make this call,” he said.
“Because I’m not a natural born liar like you? Because you don’t think I can pull it off?”
He grasped her arm near the wrist and pulled her closer, forcing her to confront him. “Settle down, Rachel. If we’re going to get through this in one piece, you need to concentrate.”
“Don’t tell me what I need.”
She locked gazes with him. His eyes were intense, volatile. He was nearly as angry as she was, and that was just fine with her. She was done with him and his lies.
With a strength born of fury, she yanked her arm away from him. “Go ahead and call her. I don’t care.”
While he made the call, she stared through the windshield at Xavier’s red SUV. She could see the old man’s face in the window of the backseat. He was laughing and she knew the joke was on her.
* * *
COLE DROVE INTO Jenna’s quiet, residential neighborhood where every sidewalk was shoveled. No one was outside. Nothing seemed to be moving. Beams of sunlight glistened and slowly melted the snow.
He hadn’t been able to reach Jenna on the phone, but he’d called the high school and been informed that she was teaching her senior economics seminar and couldn’t be disturbed. She wasn’t at home; that was all he had to know.
There were still obstacles to breaking into her house. She might have an alarm system or a guard dog or a lock he couldn’t pick. Logistics. He needed to concentrate on logistics. In normal circumstances, that wouldn’t have been a problem. He was good at honing in with sharp focus, doing what had to be done. But Rachel had distracted him.
He glanced over at her. In defiance, she’d torn the cap with earflaps off her head, and her short hair stood up in spikes. A feverish red flush colored her throat and cheeks. Anger sizzled around her like static electricity.
Later, he’d explain about his alleged wife. He should have said something before, but he wasn’t accustomed to baring his soul. Damn Xavier for bringing up his wife and making him out to be a liar. Or an unfaithful husband.
Why the hell had Rachel jumped to the worst possible conclusion? It was almost as though she’d been looking for a reason to cut him off at the knees and end this thing that was growing between them. They had a connection, a relationship.
Oh, hell. He might as well face it. He loved her. And she loved him back. But she was as scared of commitment as he was. Why couldn’t she understand? He wasn’t like all the other creeps she’d dated. He was one of the good guys, damn it.
He shook his head. For now, he had to maintain a single-minded objective. Get into Jenna’s house and find the money.
In the rearview mirror, he saw the red SUV following them. Tersely, he said, “You should stay outside with Xavier. I’m not sure what I’ll find in the house.”
“I’m going with you.”
“It could be a trap.”
“Do you really think so?”
He considered. The evidence connecting Jenna to Baron was largely circumstantial. The only thing they knew for certain was that Penny had sent Jenna the bundles containing the haul from the casino robbery. “Even if she is Baron’s secretary, she has no reason to suspect that we’re coming after the money.”
“So we ought to be fine,” Rachel said. “And I’m coming with you to search. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
He pulled into Jenna’s driveway and parked. “I go first. If I tell you to run, do it. No questions.”
“You’re the boss.”
“I’m not kidding around,” he said.
“You don’t need to remind me about the danger.” She kept her head averted as though she couldn’t stand the sight of him. “I’ve seen Baron’s men in action.”
They got out of the car and followed the shoveled path through the snow to the front porch. He saw no indication of an alarm system, but that didn’t mean much. Most of these systems were invisible. “We’ve got five minutes to get in and out. If she has a silent alarm that rings through to a security company, it’ll take that long for them to get here.”
He pressed the doorbell and listened for any sound coming from inside the house.
Rachel moved along the porch to the front window. “I can’t see inside. The drapes are closed.”
“Any of the windows open?”
She shook her head. “Triple pane casement windows. They’re sealed up tight.”
The lock on Jenna’s door was a piece of cake, but she also had a dead bolt, which could be a pain in the butt. He squatted so he was eye level with the door handle and went to work.
“Of course,” she said, “you carry a lock pick.”
“My version of a Swiss Army knife.”
He had the lower lock opened in a couple of minutes. When he pushed on the handle, the door swung open. Jenna hadn’t bothered with the dead bolt.
“Five minutes,” he reminded her as he took his gun from the holster and stepped inside. “You go left. I’ll go right.”
He was only halfway down the hallway to the bedrooms when he heard her call out. “Cole.”
Something had gone wrong. He whipped around, raising his gun to shoot. A man with a shaved head held Rachel by the throat. His gun pointed to her head.
Cole sensed someone behind his back. A deep voice with a Western twang said, “Drop your weapon or she dies.”
If he’d been alone, he might have taken his chances with these two. But he couldn’t risk Rachel’s life. He set his weapon on the floor and raised his hands. “We’re not going to cause trouble.”
“Too late,” the guy behind him said. “We’ve been chasing you two all over the damn mountains. We halfway froze to death.”
If these were the same guys who chased them onto Shadow Mountain Lake, they’d talked to Frank. What had he told them? Cole had to come up with a story that would convince these guys to let them go. Was it better to tell them he was a fed, and the full force of the law would be after them? Should he act like he was still a loyal member of the robbery crew? His mind raced.
He came up with...nothing. No bargaining chip. No leverage. No believable threat. Nothing. Nada. His entire focus was on Rachel. He had to get her out of
here. Somehow, he had to save her.
The man behind him shoved him against the wall in the hallway, yanked his arms down and cuffed his hands behind his back. Then, he did a thorough pat down. When he was satisfied that Cole had been disarmed, he stepped back. “Turn around and walk into the bedroom. I’d advise you not to make any sudden moves.”
Cole rooted himself to the floor. No matter what happened to him, he wouldn’t leave Rachel alone with these two. “She comes with me.”
“Don’t you worry none. She’s going to be with you. Until death do you part.”
The man holding Rachel moved toward them. His arm at her throat was tight.
They went through Jenna’s bedroom into the master bathroom. As soon as they were inside, the door closed.
They weren’t alone.
Agent Prescott curled up on the floor beside the freestanding bathtub. When he heard them, he opened his eyes and struggled to sit up. Blood from a head wound caked in his hair.
He croaked out one word. “Sorry.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rachel’s nurturing instinct should have sent her running across the bathroom toward Prescott. The man was clearly in need of first aid.
But she wasn’t a paramedic anymore. She was the one in imminent danger. She turned toward Cole and placed the flat of her hand on his chest. Until death did them part? They weren’t going to get out of this alive. The guys who nabbed them were the same merciless bastards who mowed down the gang at the Shadow Mountain Lake house. “Why didn’t they kill us when we walked in the door?”
When he looked down at her, his gaze was so warm and full of caring that her heart ached. “Murder leaves a mess,” he said. “That’s why we’re in a bathroom. If they kill us here, they can swab down the tiles and get rid of the evidence.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Why not?”
How could she be discussing the circumstances of her own death? With ridiculous calm, she said, “There’d still be evidence. The CSI shows on TV always find traces.”
“I seriously doubt the Grand County Sheriff’s Department has a mass spectrometer or instant DNA analysis.”
“But you and Prescott are FBI. You guys have all the forensic goodies.”
He gave her a sad smile. Then he looked at Prescott. “You’re in the Denver office. Do you think they’re good enough to figure out who killed us?”
Using the edge of the tub, Agent Prescott forced himself to stand. His breathing was shallow. Even from a distance, she could tell that his pupils were dilated. “You’re in shock,” she said. “You’re probably concussed and should be in a hospital.”
He reached up and touched the wound on his head. His fingers came away bloody. “Tell me about Goldie. Is my baby girl safe?”
His baby? “You’re Goldie’s father?”
“Son of a bitch,” Cole muttered. “I underestimated you, Prescott. I thought you were nothing more than a scumbag traitor, but I was wrong. You’re the big man himself. You’re Baron.”
Prescott wiped his bloody hand across his mouth, leaving a streak of crimson. “Not by choice.”
Cole looked down at her. “Get the lock picks from my jacket pocket and put them in my hands. I need to get out of these cuffs.”
Moments ago, she’d been complaining about the fact that he carried tools for a break-in. Now, she was glad. “Tell me how to do it. I can help.”
“It’s faster if I handle it myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this position.”
When she reached inside his jacket, her physical connection with him was immediate and intimate. She couldn’t deny their chemistry. Not that it mattered. Even if she forgave his deception and admitted how much she cared about him, they were going to be dead. “What’s going to happen to us?”
Prescott answered, “They’ll load us in a car, drive to the mountains, kill us and bury our bodies. We won’t be found until the spring thaw. By then, Jenna will be long gone.”
She placed the picks in Cole’s hands and turned toward Prescott. He seemed to be regaining strength. From experience, she knew that head wounds were unpredictable. He might have a surge of coherence, might even appear to be making a recovery. Or he might collapse into a coma.
“You’re Baron,” she said. “Why can’t you stop them?”
“I don’t call the shots. Jenna is in charge. She’s always been the boss. Ever since I first met her.”
“Was that when you came to the high school in Granby to lecture about the FBI?”
“Before that.” He winced. “Jenna lived in Denver. We were engaged.”
That explained the ring she still wore. “After you broke up, she moved to the mountains.”
Rachel understood the need for a change of scenery. She’d done much the same thing when she joined Rocky Mountain Women’s Clinic as a midwife. Like Jenna, she’d been searching for a place to start over.
Prescott said, “She invited me to Granby to talk to her class. That’s when I met Penny. Poor, sweet Penny. I was attracted to her right away, but she was a high school kid. Too young. I wooed her. Gave her presents.”
“A diamond tennis bracelet,” Rachel said.
“I picked it up at a pawn shop, but she didn’t know that. She thought I was her true love, her soulmate. All that lovey-dovey crap. And here’s the funny part.” He inhaled and straightened his shoulders. “I felt the same damn way. I waited until she was ready. I swear to God, I didn’t make love to her until she was eighteen.”
“Real decent of you,” Cole muttered. “How did you get hooked up with Jenna again?”
“She pretended to be my friend. And Penny’s. But she was scheming. Spinning her web. Like a spider. A black widow spider. A poisonous creature who...”
His words faded, and she could see him slipping toward unconsciousness. If he passed out, there was a good chance he wouldn’t wake up. She went toward him, grabbed his arm and shook him. “Stay with me, Prescott. Tell me about Jenna.”
“She’s smart. Cunning. Has a master’s degree in economics. She put together the whole robbery and money-laundering scheme.”
“Interesting,” Cole said. “Her logistics were complicated but kind of genius. How did she pull it off?”
“Untraceable email. Throwaway phones. She pretended to be a secretary and invented a boss nobody saw. Baron.”
“How did you get involved?”
“She needed to hide behind a frontman. So she set me up with fake deposits to an account in my name. When we were engaged, she handled my bills, got my social security number, all my passwords. By the time she told me about it, there was enough evidence against me to destroy my career and my life.”
“You should have turned her in,” Cole said.
“I wanted to. But she had Penny on the hook. If I didn’t do what Jenna said, Penny would pay the price.”
The long confession seemed to invigorate him. Instead of growing weaker, his voice sounded determined. “When I found out that Penny was pregnant, I started making plans to run away with her. We could have had a decent life. Could have raised our baby. Could have—”
A burst of gunfire echoed from the other room.
Cole broke free. The cuffs dangled from his left wrist, but his hands were separated. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She didn’t see an escape. The only window in the bathroom was glass bricks—the kind you can’t break without a jackhammer.
“What’s happening?” Prescott demanded. “Who’s shooting?”
“We brought backup,” Cole said. “But I don’t trust them to be effective. We’ve got to get out of the bathroom. If those guys catch us in here, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
He eased open the bathroom door. Over his shoulder, he whispered, “I don’t see a guard.”
If she’d had time to think, she would have been terrified, but everything was happening too fast. Cole grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him into Jenna’s bedroom.
&nb
sp; She scanned the room, looking for a place to hide. Under the king-size four-poster bed? In the closet? There was a lot of large, heavy furniture in dark wood. Floor-to-ceiling curtains hung beside two windows. Both had decorative security bars on the outside.
Shouts and more gunfire echoed from the front of the house. Cole peeked into the hallway and came back to her. “If we go that way, they’ll see us.”
He pulled her into the walk-in closet and closed the door. The closet was as big as a bedroom. A scent of cedar and cinnamon hung in the air.
Cole turned on the overhead light. The closet system combined hanging racks, drawers and shelving. Against the back wall were shoes, hats and a shelf with three wigs—black, blond and auburn. Jenna’s disguises. Nothing was out of place. Everything was meticulously organized.
It seemed almost sacrilegious when Cole scooped the clothes off a low rack and took the pole where they had been hanging. He did the same with another pole and handed it to her.
“Weapons,” he said.
Wooden dowels wouldn’t be much use against bullets, but it was better than nothing. He pulled her to a position beside the door and whispered, “I need to explain about my wife.”
“Not now. It’s not important.”
“This might be the last thing I ever say to you, and I want you to know that I’m not a liar or a cheat. The marriage was years ago. I was investigating the illegal gambling scene in California, and I had a female partner. There were problems with our undercover identities. Somehow, we ended up going through a wedding ceremony and signing papers that I suppose are still legal. But there was never anything romantic between us.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I never had to mention this phony marriage to you. But I’m trying to be honest. To tell you everything.”
“So, what happened with this partner of yours?”
“She transferred back east. Neither of us bothered with a divorce. I didn’t see a need. There wasn’t anyone else in my life. Not until now. Not until you.”
She heard more gunfire from the other room. There was no way out of this mess.
“That’s a mighty strange story,” she said.
