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Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced AllianceOut for JusticeNo Place to Run

Page 9

by Worth, Lenora; Post, Carol J. ; Laird, Marion Faith


  As usual, he was trapped in a prison of his own making.

  He glanced back at Josie. “Which means we have to go out there and look around. With new eyes.”

  “Connor, Sherwood was firm. They covered every inch of the mansion and brought in a laptop and several electronic pads. The few files they found on those were clean. What they found in the safe is it. Armond obviously has most of his dirty work hidden. And whoever tried to kill him, well, they didn’t leave any tracks but they did leave that load of cash and that stack of invoices.”

  “So you don’t think that was Armond’s stash?”

  “I can’t be sure until I talk to Armond, but I’m guessing no. The whole explosion thing would have brought the authorities even if we hadn’t been there. They got in, left the evidence and set up the bomb. No tracks, but plenty to stew about.”

  “There’s always tracks,” he replied. “And I’m the kind of person who knows every trick to hide those tracks. I used to hide mine. If I’d had more time, I would have eventually found Armond’s hiding places.”

  “And that’s why we keep you close now,” she reminded him.

  Connor turned back to the view. “I’ve always loved this city,” he said. “The first time I came here as a kid, I knew I wanted to live here.” He put his hands in his pockets. “My mother lived here before I was born and we only came back for a few months when I was around ten years old, but she never talked about it much.” He kept his back to Josie. “She had a place here. Owned it free and clear. It’s mine now.”

  Josie got up and came to stand by him. “Where’s your apartment?”

  He turned to look at her. She’d had a shower and had changed back into her work clothes. She looked fresh-faced and young. Too young to be running around with vagrants and villains.

  “On a side street a ways off from Jackson Square. Kind of hidden. I used to walk through the Quarter every morning. I’d grab a cup of coffee at Café du Monde, maybe an order of beignets. I loved waking up in this city.”

  “You’re speaking in past tense,” Josie replied. “Don’t you still love New Orleans?”

  “I do.” He turned to face her so she’d see the sincerity in his eyes. “But I don’t love the corruption at every corner, the gangsters and criminals that feed on desperate people.”

  Josie’s cat eyes flared to a brilliant simmer. “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Yes.” He’d never admitted that to anyone else. “My mother’s life was a facade. I understand that facade now. She was young and single and scared. She had two children by two different men. She worked hard to provide for us, but she forgot to be there with us and she forgot that we both had fathers we’d never know. The more successful she became, the less of a mother she turned out to be. She got caught up in status and appearances, but she checked out on maintaining a budget or a relationship with her children.”

  He watched a tugboat moving toward a flat barge piled high with cartons of goods. “I don’t think she ever got over my father, and she didn’t love Deidre’s father. After she died and we realized we were broke, I did things…to survive…and to protect Deidre.”

  “Deidre went to one of the best schools in the U.K.,” Josie said. “I saw that in your file.”

  “And did you also see that I dropped out of high school and…got into a whole lot of trouble?”

  She nodded, watched the ferry crossing the river. “But you also went on to get your GED and a college education—through determination and with con money. I read everything, Connor. Before I came here, I was briefed, since I knew I’d be your handler. I kept asking myself ‘Who is this man? Who is Connor Randall?’ I didn’t even know if that was your real name or an alias.”

  “My real name is Randall Connor.” He shrugged. “I turned it around to make it more mysterious. Did it work?”

  She laughed, her smile hitting at that spot inside his heart that tightened each time he thought about her. “I think it did. You are a mystery. Bad guy turned good. Or still a con man? I can’t be sure.”

  Connor stared across at her, then reached up to touch her still-damp hair. “We’ve been together for close to forty-eight hours now, and you still don’t trust me?”

  “I trust you,” she said, her eyes wide and clear. “I just don’t know what to do about you.”

  “What’s there to do?” he asked, his fingers curled in her hair. “Except your job.”

  “I’m not talking about my job,” she said on a husky whisper.

  “Oh.” He leaned in, took in the spicy scent of the hotel shampoo she’d used on her hair. “Then you must be talking about this.”

  The kiss was broad and sweeping, like a painter stroking a fresh canvas. Connor savored each touch, each sigh, each spark of awareness. He tugged her closer, the feel of her in his arms too strong to resist. All of those sensations he’d felt since the day he’d met her came bubbling to the surface like lost treasure. Like lost hope.

  Josie tugged away, shaking her head. She caught her breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Her eyes said differently.

  “We shouldn’t be on the run from killers, either,” he countered. “A lot can happen, Josie. My mother died in an instant and I never even told her how sorry I was for the things I said and did because I blamed her for too many things. Your dad went to prison in an instant, after conning people out of their money for years.”

  “So that makes this right?” she asked, stepping away. “Just because we’re forced together and we feel exposed and justified?”

  “No, this is the only right thing in our lives now, right now. This is a different kind of exposure, the kind where two people learn to adjust and trust each other. And maybe to just go with our feelings. What’s so wrong with that?”

  “Everything,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m supposed to watch you, watch out for you and make sure you don’t walk away from your obligations.”

  “I don’t plan to walk away,” he replied, a silent rage draining him of any hope. When would someone finally see that about him? When would she see the real him? “And I’ve stopped running. You need to understand that.”

  “And you need to understand that my job has to come first. I won’t be a conquest, Connor. I can’t.”

  “But…you want to be with me,” he replied. “I know a kiss when I feel it. That was a good kiss.”

  “Yes, the kiss felt good,” she admitted. “But the consequences won’t feel so great. And that’s what we both need to remember.”

  A commotion in the hallway stopped them both in their tracks.

  “We also need to remember that we’re still on somebody’s hit list,” she said on a hiss of a whisper. Then, without a backward glance, she went for her weapon and went back to work.

  TEN

  Connor rushed to the door and peered through the keyhole.

  “Looks like a bellhop passing by with a cart of suitcases.”

  Josie breathed a sigh of relief. That kiss had left her so rattled and shaken, she felt like a jigsaw puzzle. That kind of notion could get her in serious trouble.

  He turned to stare over at her. “Are we okay here, Josie?”

  Josie didn’t think she’d be okay for a while to come. “I don’t know,” she said, aiming for sarcasm. “I mean, since we’re been thrown together I’ve gone undercover, gotten way too close to a Mafia boss and the bomb waiting to kill him, lost someone on my FBI team and I’ve been shot at several times.” She paced around the hotel room, wondering what to do next. “Of course, I’ve also had some of the best food in the world at the Crooked Nail and I’ve slept in a boathouse and had a firsthand tour of a swamp.” She shrugged. “Oh, and I’ve been kissed by the elusive Connor Randall. Yeah, sure, I’m A-OK.”

  “Very funny.” He marched toward her with a predatory stare, then took her back in his arms. “One more kiss for the road, then I’ll behave until we’re done with all this mess.”

  Josie tried to back away, but Connor swooped in and he
ld her in an embrace so he could do a repeat of their first kiss. She tried to move but her legs locked on her. The only thing she could do was sigh and go with it.

  Until they heard someone tapping at the door.

  Connor pulled away and put a finger to his lips.

  She nodded, got her head together and made sure her weapon was secure. “Hold back and see what happens.”

  Connor glanced around. “The door to the adjoining room is locked. No escape unless you want to rappel eight floors down.”

  “Not on my bucket list,” she replied. His room was across the hall, but that wouldn’t help them now. “Let’s give them the element of surprise.”

  Connor quickly unplugged a lamp and moved toward the door. “I’ll surprise ’em all right.”

  The intruder stopped knocking but Josie heard a click. A key card? She waited in the bathroom while Connor positioned himself around the corner by a small love seat.

  The door slid open in a slow creak. Josie waited just long enough to get her foot against the door. “Hold it right there.”

  Connor didn’t wait. He came barreling around the corner and rammed the upended lamp right toward the startled man standing there with his mouth open.

  The lamp made contact and the big man went down and moaned. “It’s me. It’s me.”

  “Beaux?” Josie still held her gun high, but she took her foot off the door and helped Connor pull the man into the room. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Connor was inches away, but he let go of his grip on the lamp and took a deep breath. “Why are you breaking into this room?”

  Beaux held up his beefy hands. “I had to come. Mr. Armond is awake but he’s pretending to not be awake. They’ve moved him, but I got to him in the hospital and he wanted me to find y’all and warn you.”

  “What?” Josie shot a glance toward Connor. “Get in here, Beaux. And don’t make me regret letting you live.”

  Beaux clomped toward the sofa and plopped down, his beefy hand on his head. He was sweating and nervous. “I didn’t know what else to do. I followed y’all and I bribed a bellman to give me a master key. And I’m trying to be discreet.”

  As discreet as a burly giant of a man could be, Josie decided. And he was lying. “Beaux, that dog won’t hunt. What are you talking about?”

  Beaux’s big eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “How did you find us?” Connor asked.

  “The FBI has been after all of us,” Beaux explained. “They keep waiting for Mr. A. to wake up. He’s in and out but he’s playing possum on talking. He knows they found something out at the house and he believes he’s been set up. He’s afraid the killer will come back, too.”

  “What happened in that room at the other hotel?” Josie asked.

  Beaux shrugged. “We had a knock at the door, and I thought it was the guard you told me was coming. When I opened the door, the guard showed me a badge and a gun and told me to take a break. So I went down to the cafeteria, but something didn’t feel right. When I got back, all sorts of people were in the hallway, so I hid near the ice machine.”

  “They were there to take Mr. Armond into custody,” Connor explained. “What happened after that?”

  “Before I could warn Mr. Armond, another group of men came in and started shooting. I hung back and watched. They shot up the place.” He showed them a cut on the side of his head. “When things quieted down, I hurried back, but everyone was gone and I…I thought Mr. A. was dead. I ain’t proud, but I bolted when I heard someone else coming.”

  Sherwood had told Josie that Beaux had gotten away.

  “So you’ve been in hiding since?”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his head. “I watched and waited and disguised myself, then I finally asked around and found where they were holding Mr. A. in a private room at that big hospital near the Garden District. I only got to see him for a couple of minutes. He warned me to get away.” He rubbed his head. “I saw them taking him out of the hospital, but I don’t know what they did with him. I had to stay out of sight so I could find y’all.”

  “Is he afraid to talk?” Josie asked, handing Beaux a glass of water.

  “He’s afraid of breathing,” Beaux replied. “We got the FBI trailing us and somebody trying to off all of us.”

  “Is Armond’s empire crumbling?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, it is,” Beaux said. “I…I listened in when the FBI was talking nearby his room.” He gave Josie a hard stare. “I know you’re FBI but I ain’t gonna tell anyone. I didn’t even tell Mr. Armond. All I know is you tried to help him and then, boom, someone shot him. I saw y’all after all the fireworks in that other hotel. I shoulda stayed there and helped Mr. A., but I panicked.”

  Connor let out a groan. “Did you tail us, Beaux?”

  “Nah, not since y’all left town. I been holed up at a rundown hotel out on the interstate. That’s the truth. But I knew if I hung around the Quarter long enough, I’d probably see somebody who could help me. The FBI and those other agencies took all of Mr. A.’s files, computers—you name it, they stripped it. They want to pin Lewanna’s shooting on him, and they think they’ve got some other evidence or something. But they don’t have any proof of nothing on the shooting, ’cause they can’t find the weapon. They swept that mansion clean.”

  He inhaled a deep breath, then let it out.

  “I got to stay close or I’ll be a fugitive. Only I don’t have anywhere to stay, since Mr. Armond is so sick. I ain’t going back to that house. I don’t like that place. His wife won’t even come back to check on him. She’s scared. Gone into hiding.”

  “Interesting,” Connor said, shooting Josie a glance. “So why did you come to us?”

  Beaux leaned in and lowered his voice. “Mr. Armond whispered something in my ear before he fell back asleep.”

  “What did he say?” Josie asked, her patience about to crack.

  “He told me to find Randall and…that broad.” He glanced at Josie. “Sorry, his word, not mine.”

  Josie did an eye roll. “It’s okay, Beaux. What do you want us to do?”

  Beaux swallowed some water. “Mr. Armond might still be mad at you, Connor. He says if he ever leaves that hospital alive, he has to find you.”

  “So he sent you here as a courtesy, to warn us?” Connor asked.

  Beaux shook his head. “He was confused and forgetful, but he didn’t tell me to kill you. Besides, I like you, Connor. And…I ain’t got no beef with you, FBI lady.”

  Josie would never understand the criminal mind. This man was obviously a gentle giant, but he’d gotten himself caught up in a world of crime. He did as he was told as long as he had a safe place to stay and a gun to protect him.

  She touched Beaux on the shoulder. “Did you cut a deal with Armond? Or maybe you need to talk to the FBI?”

  “Maybe,” Beaux replied, his eyes misty.

  “It’s okay,” Connor said. “I sealed my fate by agreeing to work with the FBI. I don’t blame you for doing the same.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” Beaux said, perspiration pooling in big drops on his brow. “I don’t want to work with them, ’cause if Mr. A, finds out, I’m toast. So I came to warn y’all.” He shrugged. “I’m mostly wanting to find out why Mr. A. told me to go back to the big house and secure the garage.”

  “The garage,” Josie and Connor said at the same time.

  Beaux bobbed his head. “He kept whispering about a car in the garage. Maybe his Bentley?”

  “What is it about that garage?” Josie asked out loud. “Something’s in there. Which means we need to get back out to that house before someone else does.”

  Connor rubbed his forehead and started in on Beaux again. “So we’ve got someone on our tail trying to blast us, and now we’ve got a new message from Armond, but you don’t want to go back out to the house, so…again, what do you want from us?”

  Beaux got up and shook out his wrinkled suit. “I want you both to run as far from Louisiana
as you can get. Don’t go back to that house. It’s the only way to keep you alive.”

  “Does the FBI know you’re here?”

  Beaux shook his head at Connor’s question. “No, but I’m hoping they’ll cut me some slack if I help y’all get away. Maybe y’all could vouch for me. I got a family to consider.”

  Josie wished he’d considered his family before selling his soul to a bunch of criminals.

  “Do you know who’s after Armond?” Josie asked.

  Beaux stood there, as if weighing his next words very carefully. “I have my suspicions.”

  “And?”

  “I’m thinking Mrs. A. went to New York to hire someone to do away with Mr. A., starting with that troublemaker Lewanna.”

  “His wife?” Josie shot a questioning glance at Connor, then looked back at Beaux. “Do you have any proof?”

  “She hates him fiercely,” Beaux said on a low whisper.

  “Motive,” Connor pointed out.

  “And the means?” Josie asked.

  “The son, Lou, was in the military for a little while,” Beaux said. “He got kicked out for disobeying orders. It wasn’t pretty. They tried to hide it. Sent him to Europe. But he’s still causing a stink, always gambling and asking for money.” Beaux lowered his voice. “He likes to blow things up.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” Connor quipped. “So you think mother and son have teamed up to off Mr. Armond?”

  Beaux nodded. “Mr. A. thinks so, too. But you see, they say he has another son hidden away somewhere.”

  Another revelation. Connor got up to pace but he didn’t seem surprised. Had he heard this, too?

  His next question indicated he hadn’t. “You mean Lou isn’t Louis Armond’s only son?”

  “Nope, or so they say. I heard Mr. and Mrs. A. arguing about it one night long ago. Never forgot that fight, let me tell you. Throwing stuff and slamming doors.”

 

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