by Lucy Leroux
He smiled as if he were doing her a favor.
Was this some sort of joke? “Wait, you think Calen is my what?”
Maggie’s eyes widened as she pointed at Jason. “That is my boyfriend. And what the hell are you talking about? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Not sure that one is gonna be your boyfriend after this.” Dawson smirked, tilting his head at Jason.
“Hey. You agreed to be civil,” Jason snapped. He turned to Maggie, his eyes a stormy grey. “Maggie, can you please come upstairs? We need to talk.”
He reached out for her, but she backed away with her hands up. “I don’t know what this is all about, but you are making a mistake. I know Calen, but we’ve never been a thing. He’s like a brother.”
Dawson clicked his tongue at her. “Sure he is, kid. Listen, I’ve heard them all. I know all about you and your friend,” he said, putting air quotes around the last word. “Out of courtesy to another branch of law enforcement, I agreed to do this on the down low. But if you want to do this the hard way, we can go to the station and do this on the books. Your choice.”
The man’s obnoxious swagger permeated every word.
“You are all either criminally insane or too stupid to live.” She turned to the two men she knew and waved at Dawson. “And why does this one talk like he’s in some sort of fifties police drama? Is he for real?”
Ethan snickered, but Jason closed his eyes and squeezed them shut tight.
She was contemplating going forward with her punch-the-sneer-off-Dawson’s-face plan. The hotel has excellent lawyers. I can get away with it.
“So, what’s it going to be? Upstairs or downtown?”
Her mind rebelled at the thought of having any sort of conversation with this cretin in her lover’s apartment.
Ex-lover. Maggie narrowed her eyes at Jason, hoping her contempt was coming across loud and clear.
“Oh, hell yeah, we’re doing this at the station,” she said, holding up a finger and wagging it at them. “You want to be on the books, fine. This will be written large all over your official record.”
She raised her phone, but Dawson snatched it way. “What the ever-loving fuck?”
Dawson looked at her as if she was stupid. “Can’t have you texting your boss or McLachlan about this. Trust me, sweetheart, you’re going to want to talk to me first.”
Maggie made a fist, making a concerted effort not to kick the potbellied detective in the nuts. “I’m texting my friend Peyton to cancel lunch.”
“Here, give it to me.” Jason took the phone and nodded. “It is to her friend.”
Jason turned to her. “I can make you pancakes now, upstairs. We don’t need to go to the C-6. Please, let’s just do this here.”
Maggie flushed, her jaw tight. “Get out your damn car and drive me to the police station. And give me my fucking phone back so I can text Peyton. She worries.”
“Is Peyton the other one in the pictures?” Dawson whispered in an aside to Ethan as she and Jason stared at each other.
Ethan muttered something that sounded like yes. Jason handed her phone back. Turning her back on him, she wiped out the pancake message.
Peyton, don’t tell my brothers, but I need you to find our family lawyer and have her meet me at precinct C-6. I’m being dragged in for questioning. It’s about Calen.
The text reply came back immediately.
OMFG! Is Jason there? Can’t he help?
Disgusted, she shook her head and typed. He’s part of it.
Blinking back tears, she dropped the phone in her purse.
“I’m ready.”
Chapter 8
Maggie stared down at the pictures Dawson had laid in front of her, undecided on whether to laugh or cry.
Despite her difficulty accepting that it was actually happening, she was sitting in an interrogation room at precinct C-6. She had been led by the arm—no cuffs—by Dawson through an entire room of police officers at their desks. Jason and Ethan trailed behind them. Looking wasted, Jason sat across from her. Dawson was beside her while Ethan held up the wall next to the door.
Dawson, the overbred turd of a man, had been following Calen and his associates for months now. There were snaps of her and Calen at various nightspots and some of the public spaces of the Caislean—sometimes with her brothers and sometimes without. Peyton was also in the pictures, as well as some of Siren’s regulars and certain repeat guests at the hotel. Dawson even knew who her brothers were, but, somehow, he had never bothered to put a name to her face or any of the other women—with a few notable exceptions.
“Lisa is a prostitute?” she asked when Dawson pointed the woman out with a smug flourish.
She didn’t know Lisa well, but Maggie wasn’t all that surprised. The woman was what Peyton referred to as a professional girlfriend. A beautiful blonde, Lisa was frequently on the arm of a rich man. She liked to stay at the Caislean, although the registration was never in her name.
While the fact that the woman had a record was news, Maggie didn’t care. Lisa was presentable and polite, and she had never been disruptive.
Discretion was a byword when one ran a hotel. By and large, she and her brothers let the guests live their own lives. The staff only got involved in clear-cut cases, when they knew someone was being harmed or exploited in some way. Such instances were rare. As for Lisa and the few others like her, Maggie thought they were strong enough to make their own decisions. She was a firm believer in the rights of sex workers. In her opinion, it was the Johns who needed to be punished.
When she looked back at Dawson, he was giving her one of those infuriatingly condescending looks again. “As if you didn’t know—as if you aren’t one, too.”
Maggie stared in disbelief. “You…you think I’m a prostitute?” She lifted her stunned gaze to Jason.
“We know you work for these men,” Dawson said, waving a picture of Liam with Calen in her face. “We have strong evidence that Calen McLachlan is running a prostitution ring out of the Caislean hotel with the owner’s blessing—most likely because he’s taking a cut. And you, my dear, are their go-between.”
She was stunned, not just by the stupidity of the claim, but also by the lack of research this supposed professional hadn’t done. He doesn’t even know Liam is my brother.
“What kind of fucked-up sexist bullshit is this? You go to the trouble to find out who the men are in your pictures, but not the women? Did Jason not tell you my last name?”
Dawson leaned forward, his nose wrinkled. “I know everything I need to know. Right now, I have enough to charge you with solicitation. Is that what you want?”
“The hell you do.” This time she did laugh, but she couldn’t look at Jason. If she did, she would start to cry and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
Dawson was starting to lose his temper. “Hey, you trumped-up—”
“All right, enough,” Jason snapped at Dawson. “I’m getting her out of here.”
“You agreed to let him make his offer,” Ethan hissed at him.
“His offer is bullshit,” Maggie interrupted. “Because the whole thing is bullshit! It’s a fantasy dreamed up by a narrow-minded sexist jackass who doesn’t do his fucking research.”
Jason held up a hand. “I tried to tell you that I don’t care if you were involved with McLachlan in the past, but…but if he’s holding something over you, I want to get you out from under it. First, can you explain what is it that you think Dawson missed, because I’m not sure I understand,” Jason said, his forehead creased.
“Neither do I. I don’t understand how you could even think any of this is true. And seriously, how could you not tell him my fucking name?”
“What the hell does your name matter?” Dawson shouted.
“Because it’s Tyler, you idiot,” she yelled back. Maggie snatched the picture of Liam and Calen up and held it for them to see. “As in Liam Tyler, Patrick Tyler, and Mary Margaret Tyler—the co-owners of the Caislean hotel.�
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Silence.
She glared at Jason. “And yes, I know Calen. I’ve known him my entire life. He’s been Liam’s best friend since age five. When Calen’s mother died, he practically moved in with us, up until my own parents passed away. He is like a brother to me. I consider him family. The fact that you think he and I were—blech. It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. It would be like incest.”
Someone swore under their breath. She thought it was Ethan, because Jason wasn’t moving. He looked shocked and very pale. Good. Serves him right.
Maggie turned back to Dawson. “Now if I’ve cleared that up and you’re done trotting out your baseless lies about my family, I’m going to leave—as much as I would like to stay and watch you further damage your career. Believe me, it would be more fun to wait for my lawyer and watch her tear you apart. And she would really enjoy it. The hotel’s legal matters are usually fairly dull compared to this farce.”
There was a knock at the door. “Speak of the devil,” Maggie said, looking at her watch.
The timing was right. Thirty minutes had elapsed since she’d texted Peyton to call in the cavalry. Noreen Campos, her family’s lawyer, was a local. She would have rushed over here as soon as she got word.
Ethan opened the door, and a uniformed police officer rushed in. She whispered frantically in Dawson’s ear. Though the young officer tried to pitch her tone so she wouldn’t overhear, Maggie heard ‘pissed off’ and ‘huge man in a suit’.
Oh, shit. Liam was here. She flicked her gaze to Jason, almost feeling sorry for him. She had to leave before her brother got ahold of him.
“I’m done here.”
No one stopped her as she got up and exited the room. She had reached the bullpen when she heard Jason call after her.
“Maggie, wait—”
Jason didn’t catch up to her. He got one step outside the door before being hauled off his feet and pinned to the wall.
She hadn’t seen Liam waiting off to the side—a testament to the turmoil of her thoughts. Her brother was massive and hard to miss. And despite how well Jason would have done against Mikael, she didn’t think he could take her brother.
Pivoting on her heel, she rushed to Liam and tugged on his arm—the one holding Jason by the neck. “Liam, put him down.”
Liam was ferocious. He was the type of man who seemed to grow bigger when he was angry. At this moment, he towered over everyone else in the room. The fact that he could deal with her now ex-boyfriend one-handed while wearing a fine wool suit made it even more intimidating.
Maggie quickly checked that none of the officers had drawn their guns on her brother, but they hadn’t moved. Apparently, the presence of not one, but two, of their lawyers was enough of a deterrent. Noreen had been joined by another one of their attorneys, a young man whose name escaped her. Also, the local cops probably didn’t recognize Jason or Ethan…not enough to stick up for them in front of an oversized, pissed-off billionaire.
Liam dragged Jason’s head toward him until his face was inches away. “If you ever come near my sister again, I will bury you so deep you’ll never see daylight.”
“I was wrong. I thought she needed help.” Jason’s voice sounded steady, but his show of bravado rang a little false considering he was unsuccessfully trying to pull away from Liam’s grasp.
Ethan was smart enough to stay out of it.
“I know exactly what you thought,” Liam hissed. “I repeat—stay the fuck away from my sister. And don’t even think about coming to find her at the hotel. Security will throw you out on your ass.”
With that, he released Jason with a little shove in Ethan’s direction.
At least he hadn’t thrown a punch. Maggie put a hand on her forehead. She was getting a stress headache. Drained and dejected, she let Liam usher her to the door where Peyton was waiting.
Maggie widened her eyes as her friend ushered her to Liam’s town car. “I told you not to tell him,” she said from behind gritted teeth with a significant nod at Liam, who had stepped aside to say goodbye to Noreen.
Peyton hugged her before pulling back and shaking her head. “I didn’t. But you didn’t just text me. You added to the group text about brunch. That’s how Liam knew what was happening,” she explained as they climbed into the backseat.
Well, that was just perfect. “Oh, God, does he know Dawson was threatening to arrest me for solicitation? Tell me quick!”
Peyton’s grimace was answer enough. “The female officer told Liam and Noreen that Dawson was shaking down a prostitute for information. They made it seem like no big deal until Liam laid into her and the rest of the department. Noreen got in a few licks, too. Then the chief came running out, and Liam started in on him as well. I’ve never heard so many swear words all at once—and some of them were from Noreen.”
Maggie’s groan was cut short when Liam climbed into the driver’s seat. The tears were already slipping past the corner of her eyes, but when he turned to give her his I-will-fix-everything-because-I-am-your-big-brother look, it grew ten times worse.
She blinked back more tears.
Liam’s expression darkened. “Do you want me to go back in there and kick his ass? Cause I’ll do it. I don’t care if there’s a roomful of armed cops in there. I will take that fucking asshole down. I almost called Calen to come with me when I got your text. He’ll kick Jason’s ass, too. And so will Trick when he gets back from Thailand. He’s due back this afternoon.”
Maggie rested her head on Peyton’s shoulders and closed her eyes. “Just take me home.”
Chapter 9
It had been six hours. Trick appeared to think that was enough time lying prostrate in bed, but he was dead wrong. It was entirely too soon for her to contemplate getting up. Like the true friend she was, Peyton understood that even if Trick didn’t. Both were camped out in her room with buckets of ice cream courtesy of the hotel’s room service, but Maggie wasn’t hungry.
“So, I was a prostitute too?” Peyton asked.
Maggie could hear what sounded like Trick laughing in the background. It was hard to tell with the pillow over her head.
Trick had been genuinely outraged when Liam had explained what had happened. Although “explain” was a euphemism for the epic rant Liam had treated him to moment he had walked through the door. But once Liam had retreated to his office, Trick’s natural good humor had returned.
“Yes,” she replied. “We were high-class hookers, and Liam was running us from the hotel for Calen. The damning evidence was all those notes and flash drives I passed between the two for our joint events. Maybe that meant I was the madam, too. I don’t know.”
The bed shook a little with Peyton’s involuntary laughter. Maggie poked her head out from under the pillow.
“I’m not laughing,” Peyton denied, her mouth contorting to keep from smiling. “I’m not. Jason is evil, and he will be destroyed. Our revenge will be painful and bloody. Let’s start planning.”
Maggie put the pillow back on her head. “Later.”
All she wanted to do was lie here and not think.
Trick cleared his throat. “We’ve received a formal apology from BDP. I even got a personal call from the chief of detectives, which is something considering it’s Sunday. They admit Dawson was sloppy, and that he took a shot he shouldn’t have taken. Copious amounts of groveling ensued.”
She shrugged. “Men are idiots.”
Her brother removed the pillow “I’m going to give you that one. Today, all men are idiots.”
“You’re a good brother.”
Always modest, Trick grinned. “I’m the best brother…so how long are you going to do this whole staying-in-bed thing?”
He was still smiling when he asked, but she could tell he was nervous.
When their parents had died, Maggie had spent the better part of a week in bed. Nothing Trick had done convinced her to get out of it. That had been the first time in their relationship she hadn’t followed where he led, like the pied
piper. It had freaked him out. Now every time she had a cold or the flu, he pushed her to get up immediately. Sweet and simultaneously annoying, that was Trick.
She thought about it. “I need twenty-four hours.”
His shoulders relaxed. “That’s it? Excellent, excellent.” He started for the door, but then hesitated and turned back. “To be clear, you’ll be out of bed tomorrow, as in Monday the sixteenth?”
“Yes, Trick. Twenty-four hours. I promise.”
Peyton waited until he was gone. “You’re a good sister.”
“Thanks…but you’re going to do it, right?”
“Yes. I will have Sam or Jose put the cot in your office tonight. It’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning.”
She put the pillow back over her head and held out her hand. “Best-friend pinky swear?”
Peyton curled her pinky around hers. “Best-friend pinky swear.”
Chapter 10
It had been almost a week now, and Jason was starting to feel desperate. Maggie wasn’t returning his phone calls, texts, or emails…and he didn’t blame her. Given what he’d gone along with, what it had implied about her, he knew was going to have to grovel for forgiveness. Some women were worth that. Maggie was one of them.
But first, he had to get to her.
He’d been camped out in the coffee shop for days now, but she hadn’t appeared. Jason paced inside, assessing the entrance of the Caislean across the street with an investigator’s eye. While it had multiple entrances and exits, the exclusive nature of the hotel meant it had an extremely well-trained security staff.
Jason had already been turned away at the lobby four times. Flashing his badge hadn’t helped. The men told him it was Liam Tyler’s orders, and if he wanted to, he could take it up with their lawyer. One time, the lawyer had been waiting for him. Noreen Campos had delighted in telling him that if he trespassed one more time, they would contact his superiors at the agency.
He didn’t care. Threats weren’t about to stop him. He and Maggie belonged together. She was justifiably angry, but he would make it up to her. All he needed was a way to make her listen.
