Private Lies

by Wendy Etherington

  He bought the silver outfit. Hell, he was thinking of having the thing bronzed.

  When he handed the clerk a pair of twenties, the man held them up to the light, one by one, then placed them under a magnifying glass. Though most stores these days made random counterfeit checks, the procedure set Gage’s nerves on edge. “Problem?”

  The man leaned forward. “My brother-in-law, he manages one of those big electronics superstore places in Metairie. He called me last night. Know what he found when they counted the cash box last night?” He glanced around briefly, then whispered, “Six hundred and forty dollars in funny money.”

  A sharp left suddenly hovered on the horizon.

  “YOU MIGHT WANT to check those connections, sir. They’re looking weak from this end.”

  From her seat on the park bench, Roxanne watched Gage pace by her for at least the tenth time, his cell phone plastered next to his ear. To say he was royally ticked off was an extreme understatement.

  “Right. But a guy selling feather boas knows before I do. What’s their excuse for that?”

  Roxanne had no clue who he was talking to—some fellow agent, or maybe a superior, since he kept saying “sir.” Earlier, she’d debated the wisdom of having this particular conversation in the middle of a public park, with Andrew Jackson staring down at them and dozens of tourists gaping at and photographing everything in sight. And using a cell phone, which supposedly any radio buff could tap into. Gage had simply snapped, “It’s secure.”

  She hadn’t said a word since.

  Lord, the man was moody. She’d never seen this aspect in him. Around her, he’d always been calm and controlled. Another aspect of Dark Side Gage, she supposed.

  Have to take the good with the bad, Rox.

  And the sex in the lingerie dressing room had been great.

  Though technically, even according to a former president, they hadn’t had sex. But no sex hadn’t been her self-imposed rule. She’d wanted no physical contact. And wisely, too. When she got her hands on the man, it wasn’t just to give him a friendly hug.

  She searched her resolve to break up with him, and even found that wavering. Logically, unemotionally she knew she couldn’t stay with him. But, boy, did her body want to go out with a bang.

  And her heart? She sighed. Quietly breaking in half.

  “No,” Gage said into the phone. “I’ve got plans for later.”

  Noting his careful choice of words, Roxanne wondered how much she figured into his plans. Annoying sidekick? Necessary distraction?

  You’re the greatest, purest thing in my life.

  Not exactly a confession of undying love, but pretty darn close. And for the first time in her life, her resolve to keep her distance from law enforcement had wavered.

  “Yes, sir. I’m out.” He flipped the phone closed and sank onto the bench beside her. “Let’s take a walk by the river.”

  He looked tired, so she grasped his hand in hers and left the park without saying a word. He walked with his head down, managing to look melancholy even in broad daylight amidst the partying crowds.

  Strolling the riverfront sidewalk, she glanced up at him. “Who were you talking to?”

  He drew a deep breath, then let the air escape slowly. “My father.”

  Her steps faltered. His boss. Somehow, in the middle of her own personal disaster, she’d forgotten his involvement.

  “The electronics store had two fake hundred-dollar bills and a stack of twenty fake twenties when the cash drawer was counted at closing last night. They called NOPD. Some rookie detective drew the case, and he spent the better part of the night trying to solve the case on his own so he could be a big hero to the Feds.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Idiot. And so, thanks to an eager beaver and bureaucratic red tape, the manager of Ooh, Ah knows more about my case than I do.”

  “Is Stephano behind this?”

  “I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence.”

  Roxanne frowned. “He needed a CD player and some video games?”

  “I’m sure the idea is to launder the money through the store. Whoever bought the merchandise with the counterfeit money will come back in a few days and return everything, getting a cash refund.”

  “Oh,” she said, but her confusion deepened. “He’s risking exposure over a few hundred bucks? That doesn’t seem really smart.”

  Gage glanced down at her, admiration clearly reflected in his eyes. “Good call, Marina.”

  “And spending six hundred in cash…what if the sales clerk remembers him?”

  “Another wrinkle.”

  They continued to walk along with the rest of the crowds, the Mississippi River chugging along beside them, bringing a brisk breeze. Roxanne puzzled through this odd turn in the investigation. “Stephano has to have other workers besides Mettles in on his plan for a job like this, right?”

  “I would think so. He’d have to have a crew to cut the paper into bills, box it or bag it for transport.”

  “Whoever went shopping last night didn’t go under Stephano’s orders. He got greedy and slipped a few bucks into his own pocket.”

  Gage slid his arm around her waist, and a smile replaced the lines of frustration on his face. “That was pretty much my thought, as well.”

  “Really?”

  “You make a pretty good detective. And don’t slug me,” he added before she could do just that.

  “So what else did your—” Father? Boss? From Gage’s strained and formal tone with the man, she didn’t sense a normal father-son relationship, but one she found herself wildly curious about. “What else did he say?”

  “You mean dear ol’ dad? He thinks the cash last night is definitely connected to Stephano. And he also thinks Stephano is planning something much bigger than buying and returning a few stereos.”

  “So we all agree.”

  “He’s also still furious I screwed up by involving you in this. He’s threatening to pull me.”

  She stopped. Her gaze shot to his profile. “Off the case? That’s ridiculous.” Even as she felt a measure of guilt for causing him trouble, she couldn’t believe his father would be so harsh. Or irresponsible. Gage was the only one who could get Stephano. “You’ve been working on it for six months. It’s your case. We got a great lead today—that goon outside the lingerie store. If he’s there, something’s going on in that property of Stephano’s. Which one was it, by the way?”

  Gage drew her off the path, where she was blocking the tides of people. “The florist’s.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of clichéd, don’t you think?”

  “I do.”

  “Anyway—” she waved her hands, getting into the spirit of untangling Stephano’s plans, and showing that small-minded man who’d spawned a far superior son a thing or two about case solving “—we’ve got to get a peek inside that florist’s. How about I create a distraction, while you—”

  “I can get in there on my own, thank you. It’s too dangerous for you.”

  She started to argue but knew that would get her nowhere, so she settled for silently plotting a way to make sure she was included in the adventure. The fact that she considered breaking into a mobster’s lair an adventure wasn’t lost on her. Changed? Good grief, she’d turned herself inside out.

  “Mmm,” she said neutrally. “Well, anyway, once it’s confirmed that’s where the equipment is, then we have to put our energies into figuring out how Stephano is going to make big bucks with his fake money. He’s not going to buy a bunch of stuff. So…where do you go and drop a lot of money you can somehow exchange later without attracting too much attention?”

  Even as the words were out of her mouth, she glanced toward the water. At the riverboats floating just feet offshore.

  “A casino.” Pleased with herself, she snapped her fingers. “He’d have to somehow be in league with the owners, of course. Heck, maybe he owns half these boats. But that could be it. He could funnel tons of cash through a casino. That’s how Las Vegas was buil
t over sixty years ago.”

  “He’s always been a traditional kind of guy.”

  “I think we’re on to something here. We’ll have this case closed by Sunday, lock Stephano in the federal pen, you’ll get a commendation from the President, then we’ll see what ‘dear ol’ dad’ thinks about that.”

  Suddenly, he cupped her face in his hands. “You keep this up, I’m going to begin to think you care.”

  She glanced away. Gage was too perceptive, and she couldn’t let her heart get in the way of the work that had to be done, the decisions that had to be made. “Of course I do.” She grinned to push back her worries. “Do I get a special commendation medal out of this?”

  He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The tenderness and laughter in his eyes made her sigh. Here was the charming man she’d fallen for so hard, so fast. Whose barest touch sent a delicious thrill racing through her blood. Whose light and dark sides surrounded her, both overwhelming and exciting her.

  When he leaned forward and kissed her, his lips moving over hers with warmth and confidence, she slid her arms around his waist and held on.

  “We should head back,” he said quietly when he pulled away.

  She and Gage alone in that sumptuous hotel room? Oh, no. Bad idea.

  She grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the Quarter. “Sorry, sweetie, you promised shopping.”

  He simply looked heavenward.

  ROXANNE DROPPED her bags just inside the door. “Oh, what a day!”

  Gage raised his eyebrows at her fake, cheerful tone and dropped his wallet and room key on the entryway table.

  She bobbed her head rapidly in the direction of the living area. “But you were so generous, baby.” She made kissing noises.

  Gage crossed to her, laying the back of his hand against his forehead.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Checking for fever.”

  She batted his hand away. “What about, you know, the—” She mouthed, “Bugs.”

  “I made sure one of our people posing on the housekeeping staff cleaned the room while we were gone.”

  “You have people on the housekeeping staff?” Before today, this operation had seemed like Gage’s one-man show, but now she’d gotten a better idea of its scope. There were agents checking out Stephano’s properties, others following him and Mettles, and many others working on research. With his father running the show. Threatening him, telling him he’d screwed up. Because of her.

  She flopped onto the sofa and concentrated on her and Gage’s conversation. “Why didn’t these people check the room yesterday?”

  “Having housekeeping cleaning the room at ten o’clock at night would have looked a little strange, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, right.” She pulled off her new sandals, wincing a bit as she flexed her feet.

  No wonder the first thing her dad always did when he came home from work was drop into his recliner. This cop business was tough on the bod.

  “I need to check in,” Gage said, kissing the top of her head as he’d done countless nights in their house before disappearing into his office to work.

  She didn’t call attention to his actions. She simply watched him walk across the room to the desk. And she wondered. About the case. About him and her.

  After today, realizing the number of people involved in this case and the impact on the community, she felt a little selfish for her complaints on the subject of law enforcement. Even though she hadn’t shown it often, she’d always known her father, brother and sister made an invaluable contribution to the public. Maybe, instead of resenting the consequences of the choices they made, she should have been thanking them.

  What would Mother do? How would she feel if I’d been taken instead of her?

  She would wonder who would go after scumbags like Stephano if people like Gage didn’t sacrifice so much of their lives.

  But she wasn’t her mother. She couldn’t live the life her mother had. She didn’t have the strength.

  Law enforcement needed Gage, and she needed peace. No matter how well matched they were in their passion and companionship, they didn’t belong together. The scene in the dressing room hadn’t changed anything. The next time she let her feelings for him sweep her into his arms—which she had no doubt would happen—nothing would change. They were still at an impasse.

  When this weekend was over, the case closed, she’d still have to find the will to leave him.

  Shoulders slumping, she focused on their afternoon. Despite the tension underlying their time together, she’d enjoyed shopping with him. Parading sexy clothes, elegant clothes, expensive clothes before him had been liberating and fun. She’d never been so conscious of her body and its effect on the male species until Gage. And seeing his seductive smile as she twirled by him in a skirt way shorter than anything she would have considered before this weekend was a moment she’d always hold near her heart.

  She’d even bought something to wear to the casinos later that didn’t make her feel weird and out of place. A gold lace pantsuit. Lying back on the sofa, the headrest supporting her neck, she recalled the stunned look on Gage’s face as she’d exited the dressing room. The way his eyes had lit, considered and measured—and found her dazzling.

  Though all the appropriate parts were covered by lining under the lace, the pants fit tight through her butt and thighs, then flared toward her feet. The shirt had a wide neckline, exposing her shoulders, and had lining only over her breasts, leaving her stomach peeking through the lacy pattern. She’d chosen designer gold stilettos to go with the outfit and had looked in the mirror in the dressing room and thought I actually look as if I belong with him.

  Him, the supersuccessful investment banker.

  She jerked to a sitting position, staring over the sofa at Gage as he typed on his laptop. “You can’t afford those shoes on a cop’s pay.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Well, I have a bit more than my salary in the bank. My grandparents left me some money.”

  “You can’t use that for my shoes.”

  “They left me four million, Rox.”

  “Oh.” She lay back down. Then sat up. “Hell, Gage. Four million?”

  He just grinned, then turned back to his computer.

  Roxanne found she couldn’t lie still any longer, so she strode to the bathroom to shower. Afterward, tucked into a plush hotel bathrobe, she strolled back into the living area and found Gage locking his briefcase. “We need to go play leisure-loving mob conspirators again.”

  “Where?” If she had to walk another block, even in her snazzy new sandals, she was balking.

  “How about the pool?”

  She smiled. “How about I get the sunscreen?”

  HE WAS MAKING progress.

  Roxanne’s determination to leave him was wavering.

  Stretched beside her in a lounge chair by the hotel pool, Gage took advantage of his sunglasses to stare shamelessly at her body and consider her mind.

  Since she wore a candy-apple red bikini, he had to work hard at the mental part.

  She hadn’t liked his father’s heavy-handed motivation tactics, so he hadn’t told her his boss had threatened to pull him off every case at some point. Dad was a by-the-book guy, and he was constantly baffled by the rebellious son he’d brought into the business. It was an old conflict he didn’t expect ever to fully reconcile, and he’d long ago made his peace with that reality.

  But knowing Roxanne had forced him to acknowledge that his relationship with his father had shaped his other relationships. Raised by a distant, sometimes hard man had turned him into a loner, unsure with tender feelings. He knew Roxanne needed more from him emotionally. He just didn’t know how to put his feelings for her into words.

  Tell her you love her, you dummy.

  The last woman he’d loved—his mother—hadn’t stuck around when he’d poured out his heart. What if Roxanne still reject
ed him? Love or not, hadn’t she just told him this morning she didn’t want the man he was? The cop. The loner.

  She laid her hand on his bare thigh, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Baby, could you—” She stopped, angling her head. “Where’d you go?”

  He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “I’m here.”

  Since she also wore dark sunglasses, he couldn’t discern her reaction to his touch, but hoped her heart was hammering as quickly as his. “Pretending” to flirt with Roxanne was the kind of undercover work he’d could get into.

  “I just wanted another bottle of water. I’m roasting out here.”

  He slid one finger down her tanned leg. “You’re glistening. It’s sexy.”

  “It’s sweat.”

  “I think you need some more sunscreen.”

  She peeked at him over the rims of her sunglasses. “Oh, but where would I find a volunteer to apply it?”

  He laughed, walking his fingers up her thigh. “I wonder.”

  She captured his hand before he could reach her hip. “Water.”

  Reluctantly, he rose. As he walked across the pool deck toward the bar, he took the opportunity to again check out a pair of Stephano’s goons, sitting at a table shaded by a bright yellow umbrella. They had on Hawaiian-print shirts, dark bathing suits and deck shoes to set off their glowing white legs. They looked like a couple of tourists from Jersey. Which was the idea, he guessed.

  The one on the left was the guy he’d seen coming out of the florist’s earlier. A minor leg breaker in Stephano’s organization named Vince, he’d learned from his computer research. And his instincts to be visible today had been right on the money. They’d report back to their boss about shopping, relaxing by the pool and, later, casino hopping. All in keeping with his image, and hopefully settling any nerves set off by Roxanne’s unexpected appearance at the bar last night.

  He retrieved the water, then headed back to Roxanne, struck stupid again by the sight of her long, slender legs, her breasts spilling from the top of her revealing bikini. Oh, my, duty calls. It’s a tough job…

  He leaned over and kissed her as he handed her the bottle of water—hey, they had to keep up appearances, right? “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked huskily when he pulled back.