by Debra Webb
“What is our relationship?” She took a step toward Anastasia. Lacon tensed. “You drugged me, murdered my ex-husband and left him in my bed, and you think that constitutes a relationship? Please, you must know that I can’t just forget those two ugly facts. You’ve put me in an untenable position.”
Anastasia’s jaw worked a second before he spoke. “Bauer left me no choice. He should have known better than to double-cross a man like me. He made a very bad decision and he paid the price.”
“A lapse in judgment, for sure,” she agreed. “I’ve done my research, Mr. Anastasia. I’m aware of the kind of man you are.”
“Vito,” he reminded her. At some point over dinner, he’d urged her to call him Vito. “What has your research told you?”
“The most lucrative part of your business is done behind the scenes. But then there’s the legitimate business you operate. You have many powerful friends and allies. How would it look to them if they learned you had hired a murder suspect? Until this business with William is cleared up, I have to face the very real possibility that I could be charged with murder.”
“You needn’t worry. I will clear up any questions related to your involvement in that unsavory business immediately. You’ll receive the call tomorrow.”
Issy seemed uncertain how to respond. Then she went for the jugular. “You murdered the man I once loved. How can you expect me to pretend that didn’t happen?”
He stepped nearer to her, and Lacon prepared to step between them.
“William Bauer killed himself. He understood when he took matters into his own hands what he was doing.” Anastasia studied her for one seemingly endless moment. “Would you be so quick to jump to your ex-husband’s defense if you knew that he spoke often of how he hated you? Of how he wished you dead?”
She blinked. Lacon flinched.
“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head. “We didn’t get along and he was angry that I pressed charges—”
“He hated you. He asked me to have you killed, but I refused.”
The color drained from her face. “What are you talking about?”
“He wanted you dead because he knew you hadn’t changed your will or your insurance policies. All that was yours would be his and, in time, he would regain his license to practice medicine. He couldn’t risk killing you himself.” Anastasia frowned. “I did worry toward the end that he might snap and attempt to harm you.”
“You worried about me?” Disbelief underscored her tone.
Lacon was proud of her. He’d just thought the same thing.
“I did. When I learned of William’s latest bad decision, I decided it would be in both our best interests to put an end to his plotting.”
“So you drugged me and had him killed—and put in my bed—in an effort to protect me.” She laughed. “That’s rich, Vito, but I’m not buying it.”
Lacon resisted the urge to smile.
“Well, there was the matter of getting your attention and, of course, your cooperation.”
“Thank you for dinner and the tour of your home.” She turned away from him and strode toward the door.
Lacon hesitated going after her just so he could see the man’s reaction when he realized she was actually leaving.
Outrage streaked across the bastard’s face. “No one walks away from me.”
Lacon moved toward her. She stood at the door now, staring back at the man who had spoken.
“If you want me to work for you,” she said, “then you need to make it worth my while. The police have been all over me, as a murder suspect and as a potential way to get to you.”
Renewed tension slid through Lacon.
“The police have asked you to be their eyes and ears against me?”
“They have.”
Lacon decided she would make a damned good detective. She was aware that if Waller was the leak in the department, then Anastasia already knew this. His respect for her increased exponentially.
“And what did you do in response to this request?”
She shrugged. “I heard them out. I figured maybe if I helped them, they might stop trying to prove I had anything to do with my ex’s death.”
Anastasia waited for her to go on, his gaze narrowed.
“But then I realized they were just using me.” She shook her head. “I was used by my ex—I’m not going to be used by anyone else. The next time they asked for a meeting, I blew them off.”
A smile cut across the bastard’s face. “I will pay you three times your current salary if you come to work for me. The benefits,” he said the word so salaciously Lacon wanted to puke, “will be immeasurable.”
“I’ll think about it.” She turned back to the door, but then hesitated again. “Just one thing.” She gestured to Lacon. “He goes where I go.”
Anastasia sized him up again, this time more slowly. “I have no issue with that request. I’m certain he would be an asset to me, as well.”
Lacon was relatively certain from his tone that he didn’t mean as a member of his security team.
Issy shook her head. “Sorry. He’s all mine. You can look, but no touching.”
Another of those sick smiles lit the other man’s face. “As you wish.”
She held the other man’s gaze as if she might say more. Lacon wanted to urge her out the door, but she’d done a damned good job of handling the situation so far. He wasn’t about to mess with her momentum.
“How am I supposed to trust you, Vito?” She folded her arms over her chest. “First you regale me with stories of how often William spoke of me. You mentioned that he said I loved my patients. Now you want me to believe that he hated me. Wanted me dead.”
Anastasia moved closer to her. Renewed tension coiled in Lacon.
“He spoke of you often, but none of it was good. It was his obsession with hating you that led me to see for myself all that you were. William Bauer was a fool. A liar and a fool.”
Issy ignored his thinly veiled compliment. “Just one more question.”
Anastasia lifted his eyebrows in inquiry.
“Why me? There are lots of talented doctors in this city. Why does it have to be me?”
“All these months I found myself watching you, learning about you. You intrigue me, Dr. Marissa Frasier. It must be you. It cannot be anyone else. You have forty-eight hours to make your decision.”
The stare-off lasted another ten seconds before she walked out the door.
Lacon followed her without a backward glance. He was more than ready to get out of this snake den.
At the front door, the gray-haired man in the white suit returned his weapon and bid them a good evening. The same guard opened the gate at the street for them to pass, then closed and locked it. Lacon checked the street and his car before allowing Issy to get inside.
He didn’t breathe easy until they were a mile or so away from Anastasia’s compound.
“You okay?” He glanced at her, wished he could see her face better, but it was too dark.
“I’m good. I just need to get back to the house so I can take another shower. I feel dirty having breathed the same air as that scumbag.”
Lacon laughed. That was the best line he’d heard all night.
Chapter Ten
“We have a tail.”
Marissa clutched the armrest and glanced at Lacon. “You think it’s Anastasia’s men?” Like she had to ask. Her stomach was still churning from the time spent with the man. The things she had read about him in the research Lacon had shown her sickened her. What kind of man could do those things?
She wasn’t naive. The world could be a dangerous place. She knew men like Vito Anastasia existed. She saw the harm one human could wreak upon another in the ER more often than she would like.
But somehow it felt more oppressive and far more terrifying when the h
orrors came from a person who looked so normal...so polished and who presented himself so graciously.
“That would be my guess,” he said in answer to her question. “He wants us to know there’s no escaping his reach.”
Marissa felt suddenly cold. She hugged her arms around her body. “I wanted to do this. I hoped I could get us one step closer to accomplishing the goal, but all I did was open up another door in this maze of insanity. I don’t see how we can ever hope to stop him. He’s... I...” She sighed. “I failed.”
“You did great, Issy. It was the right decision. I was the one who wasn’t thinking clearly.”
She didn’t question what he meant by the statement. She had to admit that having him say as much made her feel better about the outcome of tonight. Not only had she not learned anything usable, now she was in deeper trouble than before. She had forty-eight hours to give the bastard a response to his demand.
“What do we do about whoever is following us?”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell. “Traynor.”
Marissa chewed her lips as she waited for him to finish the call. When he’d tucked the phone back into his pocket, he said, “Michaels says our tail is an unmarked cop car.”
“Mr. Michaels is following us, too?”
“I never go into a risky situation without backup.”
She’d wondered why he caved so easily in the end about the dinner invitation. “So what do we do about the cop following us?”
“Maybe I’ll just have a talk with him and see what it is they want. Brace yourself.”
She pushed back into the seat, braced one hand on the armrest, the other on the dash. He hit the brakes, bringing the car to a rubber-burning, tire-squealing abrupt halt.
Behind them more tires squealed. The car charged up so close their headlights disappeared from the rearview mirror. Marissa held her breath. When there was no crash, she relaxed. The car hadn’t slammed into theirs. Thank God.
A car door slammed hard. Whoever was in the car—presumably a cop—was getting out. Lacon drew his weapon, held it on his lap.
There was a knock at his window, followed by a detective’s shield being pressed against the glass, and Marissa sagged with relief.
Lacon powered down his window. “What can I do for you, Detective?”
The man leaned down and peered into the car. Detective Nader. He glared at them. “We need to have a conference, Mr. Traynor.”
We? Only then did Marissa realize a man was standing outside her door, too.
“There’s a coffee shop over on Clark that’s still open,” Lacon suggested. “We’ll meet you there.” He hit the accelerator and took off, leaving the two detectives standing on the street in the dark.
“Do you think they’re involved, like Waller?” She put her hand to her chest and ordered her heart to stop its pounding. She needed to calm down.
“I don’t know, but we’ll play along and see what we find out.”
The short drive to the coffee shop allowed Marissa to collect herself. Whatever Nader and Watts wanted, she needed to at least appear calm. No doubt they had followed them from Anastasia’s place. Should she tell them what she’d seen so far? She couldn’t be sure.
When Lacon parked, she asked, “Will Michaels be watching?”
“He will, and then he’ll follow us back to the safe house.”
Marissa was impressed with the Colby Agency all over again. She was immensely grateful Eva had referred her to them.
She considered Lacon’s profile. She was grateful for the recommendation and a whole lot more. Whatever happened when this was over, this man had shown her that she could feel again...that she should trust herself completely. She hadn’t done that in a long time.
Lacon Traynor was one of those guys that girls dreamed about meeting. When it came to knights in shining armor, he was the real deal. The thought made her smile.
The coffee shop was quiet. Only a handful of patrons were scattered around the small dining area. Lacon ordered two black coffees and found them a table as far away from the few customers as possible. Nader and Watts were given coffee on the house for being members of Chicago PD. They wove through the tables and joined them. Both looked as weary as Marissa felt. Their long day showed in their rumpled suits and bleary eyes. She really hoped these two could be trusted and weren’t on Anastasia’s payroll.
“You two have a hot date tonight?” Nader asked as he settled into a chair.
“I’m sure you know where we were,” Lacon said. “Whatever you have to say, say it. No games. We’re tired of games. Especially games initiated by the police.”
“We just wanted to give you an update.” Nader sipped his coffee.
“Yeah,” Watts echoed, “we thought you might want to know.”
Lacon glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s after eleven at night—whatever you need to tell us couldn’t have waited until morning?”
Watts shrugged. “It isn’t like we got you out of bed.” He sent a knowing glance at Marissa. “You don’t mind hearing news about your late husband, do you, Doctor?”
Marissa fisted her hands together in her lap so no one would see them shaking. “What news?”
“He was drugged with the same one used on you,” Nader announced.
An ache pierced her chest. “So he was unconscious when he was shot?”
Watts nodded. “Most likely.”
Marissa was glad he hadn’t suffered. “So, are you ruling me out as a suspect?” Anastasia’s promise reverberated inside her, but she doubted he could possibly work that fast. This new development had to be coincidence. Or maybe Anastasia had already heard what the police had learned, and that was why he’d offered to get her name cleared. She had never met such a cunning monster.
“Well, it’s not quite that simple,” Nader said. “We have a few more things to work out, but you definitely dropped considerably down our short list.”
That was something. She nodded but didn’t go so far as to say thank you.
“I do have one question.” Nader leaned back in his chair. “Why would you be visiting Anastasia at his home? The only people we see going in and out of his private residence are those closely associated with him. This has been nagging at me all evening, Dr. Frasier. You see,” he leaned forward once more, propped his arms on the table, “I really want to believe you’re one of the good ones, but this looks awfully suspicious.”
She met Lacon’s gaze. How did she answer that question? She hoped he had picked up on how lost she was here.
“Gentlemen—” Lacon leaned into the table as Nader had “—our mutual enemy invited Dr. Frasier for dinner. Is there a law against having dinner?”
Watts snickered. “Depends upon who you’re dining with.”
Lacon looked from one to the other. “You see, we’re receiving mixed signals from the folks in your department. Maybe you expect us to tell you all our secrets and what we were doing tonight, but I’m afraid we just can’t trust you on that level. Dr. Frasier’s protection is my top priority.”
“What mixed signals?” Nader demanded in a furious whisper.
“Well—” Lacon leaned even closer to him “—you might want to ask Chief Waller about that.”
Nader and Watts exchanged a look. “All right.” Nader glanced around the shop. “Lookie here. Me and Watts, we know there’s trouble in the department where Anastasia is concerned, but we’re not part of that trouble. In fact, we don’t know anyone who is.”
“But what we do know—” Watts joined the huddle “—is that someone way higher up the food chain is, as they say, thick as thieves with him.”
Marissa wanted to just blurt out all that she knew. It would be so easy to trust them and tell them everything she and Lacon suspected so far, but Chief Staten had instructed Victoria to pass along the advice that Lacon and Marissa
should not trust anyone but her. At least until she figured this out. Marissa felt certain the woman was still grappling with the idea that a man at Waller’s level could be bought.
“Well,” Lacon said, “we appreciate that you fellows are good cops, but you’ve got to understand our position. We’re just trying to stay alive.”
Nader gave a nod. “I can understand that. I’m just saying that if you happen to learn something we need to know, you can feel comfortable calling us.” He looked to Marissa then. “You have our number.”
“I do.” There was a card somewhere in her purse.
“The bottom line is,” Watts said, “someone—and we all know who that someone likely is—broke into your home, drugged you and your ex, then put him in your bed and killed him. I’m just a little confused as to why you’d want to break bread with the man and not give us a heads-up.”
Marissa held the man’s gaze, anger rushing into her throat. How dare these two accuse her of such a thing when she was only doing what she believed she had to do?
“Sometimes...” She hesitated to steady her voice.
“Sometimes,” Lacon agreed, “you do what you have to do because no one else can do it for you.”
Nader nodded somberly. “I would just hate to see you follow the same path your ex followed. It’d be a shame for that to happen.”
“I can guarantee you both,” Lacon assured, “that I’m not going to allow Dr. Frasier to get hurt.”
Marissa shook her head. “You shouldn’t worry about me, Detective. I have no plans to emulate any of the mistakes my ex-husband made in the final years of his life.”
Nader withdrew his cell phone. “We found a couple of guys in a Dumpster over off Kildare. We thought one or both might be connected to your dinner date. Have you seen either one of these men before?”
Lacon stared at the screen before Nader turned it toward Marissa and showed her first one and then another photo. Fear tightened her throat. The first had been the man with the two gunshot wounds that she hadn’t been able to save. The other was the man who’d suffered the laceration across his abdomen—the one who’d been alive when Anastasia’s men had taken him from that storeroom.
