Face the Music (COBRA Securities Book 9)

by Velvet Vaughn

  Mullins shrugged. “You can’t use that against me. I was drugged. The confession will never hold up in court. Even a two-bit public defender could get me off, let alone one of the high-powered lawyers I employ.”

  “Wow, didn’t think that would work,” Luke laughed. Logan patted him on the back and one of the FBI agents high-fived him. Mullins eyes shot to him in question. “Uh, yeah, about that...I lied about the truth serum. You confessed of your own free will, former Senator Mullins.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Mullins roared. “It was the truth serum.” His eyes were feral. “You drugged me.” He jerked against his binds. “It was the drugs. You all heard him say I was drugged.”

  “Oh, you were,” Kayla piped up, holding a small vial. “With a smidgen of rohypnol.”

  “The date rape drug? You drugged me with that?”

  “Don’t worry, Mullins, your virtue is intact,” Kayla said dryly. “None of us would touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

  “I was under the influence of drugs. That confession won’t stand.”

  Luke stood and helped Layla up. “I hate to tell you this, but there are about fifteen, twenty witnesses who heard you confess. Enjoy the rest of your life in prison and don’t forget to never turn your back on the other inmates.”

  He put a hand on her arm to guide her out of the plane but she stopped and faced her former stepfather for what she hoped was the last time. “Just so you know, Tiffany and Sean were never missing. They were with me the entire time.”

  “You lying bitch.”

  “They hate you as much as I do, Gene. Your own flesh and blood. They didn’t want to live another moment in your house. Didn’t want the same last name as you. They couldn’t wait to get away from you. You’ll never see them again.”

  “As if I care,” he yelled.

  As she turned to leave, she heard one of the agents say, “Eugene Mullins, you are under arrest.”

  “I was coerced!” Mullins shouted “You can’t do this to me!”

  She stepped into the fresh air and inhaled deeply. The weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

  #

  Hunter stuffed the last of his clothes in his duffle bag and bent down to the loose floorboard, prying it up to retrieve the safe containing his ID and the remaining files he’d gathered on Mullins. When he’d been looking for a hiding place, he’d noticed the small nick in the corner of the wood plank. After sticking his pocketknife in the hole, the board pulled up easily, revealing the perfect hidey hole. He’d even covered the nick with a rug to disguise it further.

  He felt around to make sure he had everything when his hand brushed against something solid. He eased to his stomach and reached inside, hoping he didn’t come away with a dead rat or something. Instead, he fingered leather, in the form of a journal.

  He pulled it out and brushed dust from the cover. There was no lock, so he flipped to the front page. Layla’s mother’s name. He’d found the missing diary.

  It was a moot point now, since Mullins had confessed to her murder, but there might be something inside that would help build the case against the former senator. Instead of bagging and tagging it, Hunter slipped it into his pocket.

  Zipping his duffle, he flung it over his shoulder and headed to the main house. His colleagues were going over it with a fine-tooth comb. He’d already passed on all the information he had, which was enough to bury Mullins.

  He glanced at his watch. His flight was scheduled soon to take him back to Quantico to meet with his boss to debrief. He spotted Talia leaving the house with Logan Bradley carrying her suitcase. He dropped his bag and jogged over.

  “It was nice to work with you and your colleagues,” he told Bradley, holding out his hand. “You’re a class outfit.”

  Logan shook it. “You, too.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a card. “If you ever get tired of the politics, give me a call.” He handed him his business card. Hunter glanced over to see Talia’s eyes widen.

  “Thanks, I might do that,” he said without taking his gaze from her.

  Logan glanced between them. “Uh, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put this bag in the SUV. Nice to meet you, Malone. Thanks for everything.”

  Hunter tucked the card in his pocket and approached Talia. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her soundly, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that with her boss a few feet away. Instead, he held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Levy.”

  She placed hers in his. “Cohen.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My last name is not Levy. It is Cohen.”

  “Well, Ms. Cohen, it’s been a pleasure.” He kept hold of her hand, his thumb stroking the smooth skin. “We could use someone with your skills at the Bureau. We made a pretty good team.”

  She shook her head. “I am very happy where I am.”

  “Maybe we will cross paths again on a case.”

  “Maybe we will,” she smiled and removed her hand. He mourned the loss.

  “Wait.”

  She turned around, her brows lifted in question.

  “I almost forgot this.” He removed the diary from his pocket and handed it to her.

  She looked from the book to him. “Layla’s mother’s diary? You found it?”

  He nodded. “It was hidden under a floor board in the carriage house.”

  “Carriage house,” she muttered. “I did not think to look there.” She shook her head and held up the book. “You do not need this for the case? Evidence?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “It belongs to Layla now. If there’s something in there that she thinks would help the case, she can turn it over. I thought she’d want to see it first.”

  Talia stared at him with a look he couldn’t decipher. “What?”

  “That was a very nice thing to do, Hunter Malone.”

  “McGrath.”

  “What?”

  “My real last name.”

  “Ah. Well, it was nice to make your acquaintance, Hunter McGrath.” With a small wave, she slid into the SUV. He watched until it disappeared.

  It would be a long time before he forgot Talia Cohen.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Layla reclined in the swing on Luke’s deck, a blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. The warmer temps had turned chilly and there was a forecast of snow. Still, the bracing air felt good.

  She’d just finished reading her mother’s diary. She had proof in the form of written word that Mullins had been mentally abusing her mother and siblings for years. It’d been particularly difficult to read the last day of her life, how she described the stark fear that her husband would make good on his threats and kill her.

  Her mother had wanted to leave Mullins for years, but she feared he would track them down and kill them. His reach was far and wide and she didn’t know where to turn for help. Layla wished she’d come to her.

  Most of the pages had been filled with a mother’s love for her children. She was proud of each of them and documented their accomplishments. The book only went back sixteen months, but there was plenty to fill the pages. Her mother had kept track of each city where Layla performed and every time she appeared on television or a song hit the charts.

  She wiped a hand under her eyes absorbing the moisture. She missed her mother so much. The swing dipped and a strong arm wrapped around her. She leaned into the solid warmth.

  “You okay?”

  “I will be.”

  “I spoke with Dante. Kai’s doing great. His bruised ribs are feeling better and he’s already complaining the doctor banned him from the obstacle course for two weeks.”

  She smiled, so glad the young boy was okay. He’d risked his life trying to save Tiffany.

  “And they said to thank you for the gift. Seriously? A signed Peyton Manning football?”

  She shrugged. “I met him once. It was just the matter of a phone call.”

  “Well, you couldn’t have picked anything better. It hasn’t left Kai’s ha
nds. He won’t let anyone else touch it.”

  They sat in companionable silence, the swing swaying softly. She shivered and Luke pulled her closer. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the bite in the air. It was like sitting next to a furnace. She wished they could stay like this forever.

  “We have to leave in the morning.”

  “I know.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes. She didn’t want to leave. She’d fallen in love with the beautiful house on the lake, with the friends she’d made, with the looks of joy and happiness on her sibling’s faces. And most of all, she’d fallen in love with Luke.

  She lifted her head and placed a hand on his chest. “I love you.”

  He cupped her face and brushed a soft, sweet kiss against her lips. “I love you, too.”

  How would she survive not having that face to look at every day? “You could come with me.”

  His smile was sad as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wish I could, babe. But the business, Kaitlyn and Ben…”

  “Yes, of course, I know.” And she did. She would never ask him to give up his entire life to follow her around the world. She wasn’t even sure that was the life she wanted anymore. She rested against him again, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

  “You know you and the children are always welcome here, Layla.” His voice was low, husky. “I’d ask you to stay, but that would be selfish of me.”

  Ask, she wanted to scream. But that wasn’t fair. She couldn’t stay and he knew it as well as she did.

  “Did you finish the diary?”

  She nodded against his chest. “She documented how frightened she was of Mullins, how he threatened to kill her. He’d mentally abused her to the point she had no self-confidence left.” A tear leaked over the edge. “She also wrote of how proud she was of Tiff, Sean and I.”

  “You don’t have to send it in, babe. They have enough on him.”

  “I know. But I want my mother’s claims on record.”

  She was looking forward to the trial when Mullins would be sentenced for his crimes. Life, at least. Death, probably. To see him defeated and destroyed would be the best vengeance for her mother. She wasn’t however, looking forward to seeing him again.

  Luke’s phone rang and he fished it from his pocket. “It’s the FBI.” Carefully disengaging from her arms, he stood and walked a few steps away to answer. She stared at his tall, broad form. Whether he wore a suit and tie, or a sweatshirt and well-worn jeans like today, he was male perfection. The thought of leaving him was almost more than she could bear.

  She closed her eyes, trying to gather her strength. The next few weeks would be non-stop, with interviews, photo shoots and studio time recording her next album. She needed to be strong when all she felt was weak. Only in Luke’s arms did she feel strong.

  She jumped when she opened her eyes to see Luke kneeling in front of her, compassion in his blue eyes. His hands rubbed her thighs. “Luke?”

  “That was Hunter McGrath. There was an incident at the prison today. Mullins fashioned his sheets into a noose and tied them to a bar covering a window. He’s dead, honey. Eugene Mullins is dead.”

  Epilogue

  Layla removed the headset and sighed against the back of the seat. She’d just finished the last track on her new album, Layla Lives. She hated the name, but she’d been outvoted and overruled. “The fans will eat it up,” her agent promised. Whatever. She thought it was stupid.

  The fans should be sick of her by now. Over the past few weeks, she’d done rounds of morning news shows, afternoon talk shows and late night television. She’d been interviewed by Oprah and Barbra Walters. She’d made guest appearances on television shows. She’d given an impromptu concert at Rockefeller Center and another at Universal Studios in Hollywood. She’d been offered a book deal and her agent was trying to organize a comeback tour, but Layla put it off. She had no desire to go on the road for months on end. She had her siblings to think about now.

  One of her first moves had been to record the signature track from the new album, Running Into You. It’d debuted at number one on the charts and was holding strong weeks later. It was her most personal song to date, started the days after she’d literally ran into Luke in New York City. She finished it on the plane ride to California.

  “That’s a wrap,” the producer announced. “Drinks on me.”

  The studio erupted in cheers. Layla smiled, accepted congratulations from the technical support staff and declined their invitation to join them at the bar down the street. Tiffany and Sean were waiting for her at home. She grabbed her bag, slid on her sunglasses and headed to her car.

  “Layla, wait up.”

  She turned to see Gunnar Black jogging towards her. She’d just started dating Gunnar, the lead singer of a rock band, before she went into hiding. At one time, she’d found him sexy. BL. Before Luke. Before love.

  “Wow, I can’t believe it’s really you.” The next thing she knew, she was wrapped in his embrace. His arms were like twigs with no visible muscle tone. She craved Luke’s strong arms surrounding her. Maybe that wasn’t fair to compare all men to Luke since they all paled in comparison. He was the male standard. As politely as possible, she extracted herself.

  “It’s good to see you, Gunnar. I need to—”

  “Let me take you to dinner. We’ll catch up…pick up where we left off.” He winked.

  Seeing as how they’d only had one date and hadn’t even kissed, he had no reason to be winking lasciviously at her. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t. I have somewhere I need to be right now.”

  “How about this weekend. I’ll get reservations to—”

  “Gunnar, I’m seeing someone else.” When he opened his mouth, she added, “It’s serious.”

  “Oh, well, okay then. Glad you aren’t dead, Brooks. See ya.” He loped off, calling out to one of the female interns. She watched in amusement as he threw his arm around the star-struck girl and led her down the hall. Shaking her head with a smile, she continued to her car. The temps were typical California weather and the sun reflected off the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. She snapped a picture and sent it to Luke.

  She thought about him constantly, wondering what he was doing, how he was feeling. They talked every night, sometimes for hours, and texted often. Something would happen and he was the first person she thought of to share it with. He told her how their business had exploded. They were already maxed out before this case and now they were in such high demand, they were turning business away.

  She was so happy for them. They deserved all the accolades and praise heaped on them. She’d made sure to give them the credit on her interviews. Still, as much as they talked, it wasn’t enough.

  She’d been putting off enrolling the twins in school. She couldn’t say why, except that it felt too permanent. For now, she’d hired another tutor but the kids wanted Melody back. They hadn’t adjusted to her home in Malibu, refusing to do much but lounge on the couch and watch television. She offered to swim with them, take them shopping, even play video games, but they declined. She wanted them to accompany her to the recording studio and they went the first day but quickly grew bored. She was at a loss.

  Turning into her driveway, she pressed a button to open the gate and motored up the drive. She’d fallen in love with the white columns and red tiled roof when she first saw this house. It’d always made her happy to return after a road trip. It no longer felt like home. Home was a wood and stone house on a lake in the Midwest.

  She walked inside to find the kids sprawled in front of the television, as usual. Mrs. Togo, the woman she hired to watch them during the day, was working a crossword puzzle in the kitchen.

  “Did they give you any trouble?”

  The woman scoffed. “Are you kidding? This is the easiest job I’ve ever had.” She tsked. “I’ve never seen such sad niῆos.”

  Layla’s heart squeezed. Her siblings were miserable and it was all her fault. She waited until Mrs.
Togo left before padding to the great room and taking a seat on the sofa between them.

  “How was your day?”

  “Okay.”

  “Fine.”

  Neither looked up and her heart twisted. They’d been this way ever since she brought them to California. She knew they missed Kai, Grace and the others at COBRA Securities. She did, too—one, in particular.

  She glanced at her watch. It’d been a month since they’d left the compound. Luke’s pilot flew them to Los Angeles and he’d made the trip with them. When the plane touched down, he hugged the children with tenderness that brought tears to her eyes, kissed her goodbye and returned to the plane. It took everything in her not to run after him and beg him to take her with him.

  She gathered the kids in her arms. Though they acted put out, they hugged her back. “You miss it there, don’t you?” They both nodded solemnly. “Do you want to go back?” Both heads jerked to her.

  “Do you mean it?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I miss it, too.” She’d realized in the year on the run, she still enjoyed singing, but writing and composing were just as rewarding. She could still record albums, but she could do that anywhere. She might have to do a few concerts, but she wouldn’t do the year-long world tours she’d done before.

  “Can we live in Luke’s house?” Tiffany asked.

  “Maybe he’ll let us get a dog,” Sean added hopefully.

  “Hold on. Luke hasn’t asked us to live with him. I figured we’d find a house in town, close enough that you could visit.” Maybe somewhere with enough space to set up her own recording studio.

  “It’s not ideal, but I guess it’ll work,” Sean said. The kids jumped off the couch, high-fived each other and raced to their rooms to pack.

  #

  Luke glanced at the clock, surprised it was past time to head home. It was amazing how fast the days flew by and how slowly, too. They were so busy, he and Logan and Dan spent most of the day screening potential clients. They were going to have to hire more agents soon. The business was expanding faster than they’d ever dreamed.