Neither did Cassie.
“There’s more.” Evangeline focused on Mike. “Caruthers mentioned a specific name in connection to all of this. Milo Kardascian.”
Mike frowned. “The CEO of Vasco Pharmaceuticals.”
“The same.” She tapped a key on her computer and the screens in front of them flashed a picture of the multimillionaire.
Cassie recognized the man’s prominent flat nose and heavy jowls. PPS had provided security at parties he’d attended. She’d worked on the technical support end of the surveillance teams, though she didn’t know much about Kardascian personally. Just that the hard look in his eyes had given her the creeps. How is he involved in this? she asked.
Evangeline focused her attention on Cassie. “That’s what we need to find out. He might know something about this list, or something about the cipher or ciphers needed to read that disk. I’ve had no luck reaching Mr. Kardascian, but I have it from a reliable source that he’s vacationing in his cabin west of Denver. I need you to visit him in person, find out what he knows.”
Cassie straightened in her seat. I can go while the computer is running my next set of algorithms.
“The two of you can go.”
The two of them? Wasn’t that overkill? What was Mike supposed to do? Hold her hand? I don’t need a bodyguard to talk to the CEO of a respected company.
Evangeline shook her head. “Actually, you might be happy to have that bodyguard around Mr. Kardascian. Isn’t that right, Detective Lawson?”
Cassie turned to look at Mike.
A muscle tensed along his jaw. “Don’t tell me. You also brought me aboard because I’m acquainted with Milo Kardascian, or is that just a coincidence, too?”
Evangeline gave a calm smile in answer. “Any additional questions or comments?”
Cassie had dozens of comments. Though she doubted any of them would change Evangeline’s mind.
“Good. Report back to me after you talk to Kardascian. Don’t let her out of your sight, Detective. And, Cassie?”
The terse look on Evangeline’s face caused a hitch in Cassie’s stomach. She raised her eyebrows at her boss, conveying the fact that she understood. And was listening.
“Do your job. Nothing more. I need you back here in one piece to run those decryption programs.”
CASSIE WHIRLED to face Mike as soon as they pulled out of the PPS underground parking garage. What do you know about Milo Kardascian? What isn’t Evangeline telling me?
Kardascian. Not one of Mike’s favorite topics.
Hands on the steering wheel, he turned his head toward Cassie, to give her a clear view of his lips. “He’s not a nice guy.”
She stared, waiting for him to go on.
“He has a nasty habit of beating up women. When I was still on patrol, I was called to his house at the Polo Grounds a few times.” He didn’t need to tell her the rest. Ancient history. And not one of his prouder moments.
He caught the movement of Cassie’s fingers from the corner of his eye.
Then he’ll be defensive around you. I’ll ask him the questions.
He’d known from the first time he’d met Cassie that she was independent. He hadn’t realized she had a chip on her shoulder the size of the Rocky Mountain range. “Listen, I’m betting a self-absorbed bastard like Kardascian doesn’t know one word in ASL. How are you going to ask him anything?”
“I can talk when I have to.”
Her voice sounded low and rich. The inflections were a little flat, but her voice was still the sexiest he’d ever heard. He’d forgotten Cassie hadn’t always been deaf, unlike Tommy, who’d been deaf from birth. “Why don’t you talk more? You have a great voice.”
I don’t like not knowing how I sound, she said, back to using her hands.
“You sound beautiful. Sexy.” He didn’t know what had made him admit that out loud. He and Cassie were working together, not dating. He needed to keep things all business between them. And besides, even if something could happen between them, he didn’t need to add letting Cassie down to his list of screwups. But even knowing all that, the words had slipped out and he hadn’t wanted to bite them back.
She shook her head as if impatient with him. Regardless of how my voice sounds, I can make him understand me just fine. Don’t worry.
At least one of them had her head together. At least where aimless flirting was concerned. “Kardascian not being able to understand you is only one problem with you questioning him.”
I can handle him.
Maybe she could, maybe she couldn’t. Nothing against Cassie, but he wasn’t about to let her try. “It’s my job to protect you, Cassie. You’re going to have to let me do it.”
Her fingers flew with lightning speed. I’ve been working on the disk. I know more of the background on the case. I will be the one asking the questions. I’m good at my job, Detective. Just because I can’t hear—
“Whoa. Wait a minute. You might want to twist this into an argument about your deafness, but that has nothing to do with why I don’t want you near Kardascian. He’s one brutal bastard. Pure and simple. I can protect you. And damn it, I’m going to. You’re in charge of decryption, and I’ll take care of Kardascian and anything else that’s dangerous. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Evangeline.”
She crinkled her eyebrows and turned her head away, peering out the window at the foothills and gullies scrolling past. Auburn curls draped over her cheek, shielding her face from view.
So much for making his point. He wasn’t sure she’d chosen to take in a word he said. With a hearing woman, he could make her listen, or at least drone on for his own amusement. Cassie could shut him out with the turn of her head. There was nothing he could do to bring her focus back to him…unless he grasped her arm and physically turned her.
He pushed that idea as far from his mind as he could get it. He was attracted enough to Cassie Allen. He sure didn’t need to add physical contact into the equation.
The pavement curved south and climbed sharply. He focused on the road ahead, squinting into the sun. Pain stabbed his swollen eye like an ice pick jamming into his brain. At least he no longer had a hangover. Yesterday the sun would have killed him.
At least that would have made Cassie happy.
Twenty silent minutes later, they crested the ridge. He located the address and wound down the long driveway. Kardascian’s mansion hung on the side of the mountain, a log cabin with so much glass it was hard to figure out just where logs came into play. “Pharmaceuticals pay well, that’s for damn sure,” he said to himself.
He parked near the front walk and climbed from the car. By the time he’d circled to the passenger side, Cassie was out and smoothing her skirt with the palms of her hands. He stepped in front of her so she would have to look at him. “Are we on the same page?”
She pressed her lips together. Setting her chin, she stepped around him and marched up the stairs.
So much for their argument on the drive. He started after her, drawing even before she reached the front door. Extending a finger, he stabbed the doorbell.
The chime echoed through the house. The sound died, leaving only the spring chatter of birds and wind whistling through aspens and evergreen bows.
Cassie punched the doorbell, the chimes ringing a second time.
Still no answer. Mike stepped through the carefully landscaped bed surrounding the front step and cupped his hand against the garage window to shield the sun’s reflection. The red gleam of a convertible Corvette shone from one of the bays. A heavy-duty SUV hulked in another. And in the third, a chrome decked Harley. Only a fraction of his vehicle collection. The rest must be at his high-rise condo in Denver, the place he’d moved after signing his house at the Polo Grounds over to his ex-wife. Or maybe one of his other half-dozen homes.
Whatever his vehicle situation, the lack of empty garage bays didn’t mean he wasn’t driving a different expensive vehicle. Or that he didn’t use a car service. But there was so
mething else about the garage that bothered Mike. Something that didn’t feel right.
The door. He looked closer. Sure enough, the door from garage to house was open. A minute ticked by, yet no movement came from the house. He focused on that open door. A smudge of something marred the pristine white steel just below the knob. Something brownish…
Blood?
There were a myriad of other possible explanations—dirt, chocolate, who knew what? But that didn’t explain the bad feeling chomping at the back of Mike’s neck like an attack dog. He signed to Cassie. Go back to the car. I’m going to take a look around.
Cassie shook her head.
Damn. He might be paranoid, but he couldn’t take the chance. The last thing he needed was for Cassie to get caught up in something bad. He wasn’t going to let that happen. This could be serious, Cassie. And you’re unarmed. I might have had my badge suspended, but at least I have my personal weapon. You’re going to have to do what I say. Go back to the car, lock yourself in and call 9-1-1. If anything happens, get the hell out of here. He tossed her the keys.
She caught them, hesitated, then nodded.
Mike waited until he saw her climb into the car, slam the door and hit the electronic locks before he circled the house.
The house’s doors were locked, windows secured. If he had a real reason to believe someone was in imminent danger inside, he’d break a window and let himself in. As it was, a hunch didn’t cut it with the law. He was already going out on a limb by calling the sheriff’s department out here all based on a brownish smudge and a bad feeling.
He circled the side of the log cabin. Four windows cut into the logs on this side of the house. He peered inside each one. A formal living room. A study. Rich earth-toned furniture, plush carpet and rough-hewn stone fireplaces decorated each space. The rooms looked spotless and utterly vacant, as if the only one who ever set foot in the place was the cleaning lady.
So why had she missed the smudge on the inside garage door?
After he’d circled about half the house, the ground fell away into a steep slope. Decking loomed overhead, arranged in three layers. The entire back of the house was glass, gleaming in the sunlight.
Mike stepped to the sliding glass door on the lowest level and peered inside. A shape loomed dark against white carpet. A prone body.
Gripping either side of the door, Mike fought the sliding door free of its lock and lifted it off the track. An alarm screamed through the house. He scanned the room for movement as he raced to the body.
Kardascian.
Blood bloomed from the millionaire’s chest, soaking his thick cotton sweatshirt and seeping into the white berber. His labored breathing rasped raw in the silence.
The bullet must have pierced a lung. The man was drowning in his own blood.
Grabbing the sweatshirt, Mike shoved it up Kardascian’s thick torso, exposing a small gunshot wound oozing blood. He needed something airtight to seal the hole in the lung. And he needed it now.
He sprang to his feet and scanned the room. Weight machines of every type imaginable dotted the space. A covered hot tub filled the adjacent room, visible through glass doors. A wet bar nestled in the corner.
Mike raced for the wet bar. He rifled through cupboards until he found a box of garbage bags. Pulling one free, he headed back to Kardascian.
Please, let him still be alive.
The CEO’s breath rasped, bubbling through blood.
Mike fitted the plastic bag tight to the wound. Centering his weight over the man, he pressed down on Kardascian’s chest. “Hold on, man. You’re going to pull through this.”
The sucking sound stopped. So far, so good. But Mike had no way of knowing how much blood was already in Kardascian’s lungs. Judging from the gurgling sound, it wasn’t a small amount.
The millionaire watched him through glassy eyes. He opened his mouth, straining for breath. Fighting. He thrashed his hands weakly, already slipping away.
Mike adjusted his weight, trying to keep up the pressure. The carpet squished beneath him. How much blood had Kardascian lost?
A gasp cut through the room.
Mike looked up and into Cassie’s rounded eyes. “Did you call for help?”
She nodded. She raced to his side, obviously eager to do something, anything to assist him. But there wasn’t anything she could do. There wasn’t anything either of them could do. Milo Kardascian was dead.
Chapter Four
Mike stood in front of Milo Kardascian’s garage and watched the Denver Police Department SUV wind around curves and down the slope on its way to the cabin. He’d already answered a slew of questions from the Jefferson County sheriff’s deputy who’d arrived on the scene first. He’d thought the worst thing that could happen at this point was to be asked to relive his failure to save Kardascian’s life one more time. He was wrong. Explaining why he was in this situation to the lieutenant promised to be even more miserable.
Denver PD? Cassie’s fingers trembled slightly as she signed, but other than that, she seemed more pulled together than he felt. Why is the Denver PD here? Isn’t this outside their jurisdiction?
It’s my lieutenant.
Cassie searched his face. Is that bad?
I wish I knew. And that was the part that was driving him nuts. He was used to being on the inside dur ing a scene like this. Gathering evidence. Talking to the medical examiner. Having officers and experts report to him. Standing around waiting for the next bout of questions with no clue what was going on was killing him.
Especially when they seemed to be treating him as more suspect than witness.
He shifted his feet on the concrete apron in front of the garage. No point in venting all that to Cassie. She’d been through too much already this morning. She sure didn’t need more to worry about on top of it. How are you holding up?
She gave him an unconvincing smile. Fine.
Right.
Okay, not so fine. I’ve never seen someone die before. Especially someone who was murdered. And all the blood. Her shoulders hitched with a small shudder. I’m still feeling a little shaken, I guess.
Hell, who could blame her? Even though he’d seen more than his share of dead bodies, he was shuddering right along with her. Not enough to notice, but he could feel the tremor deep in his bones.
Maybe a man dying under your fingertips did that to you.
He resisted the urge to look down at his stained hands, Kardascian’s blood dark in the creases of his skin, or his jeans, the denim now as stiff as if it had been sprayed with starch. I’m sorry you had to go through all this.
I’m just glad you were there with me so I didn’t have to face it alone. One side of her lips quirked upward in some semblance of a half smile. No matter what I said before.
You’re welcome. I wish I could do more. Like get you out of here. He raked a hand through his hair. If I only knew what the hell was going on.
Maybe the lieutenant will let you know what they’ve found. Cassie focused clear eyes on the SUV, as if she believed that by positive thinking and the force of will she could influence the mind of the man inside. Maybe he’ll convince the county to let us go home.
Mike wasn’t going to hold his breath for that to happen. But he wasn’t about to dash Cassie’s hopes, either. Maybe so.
The SUV came to a stop behind the boxy, tan sheriff’s cars and three doors swung open. The LT, Tim Grady and a veteran officer named Hawley climbed out and threaded their way to the sidewalk. Grady gave Mike a gap-toothed grin, the worried lines in his forehead canceling the comic value of his smile. The lieutenant and Officer Hawley passed without a glance.
The contingent of Denver PD climbed the steps to the front entrance of the elaborate cabin and joined the huddle of sheriff’s men. The LT nodded his graying head as they filled him in.
Mike felt like crawling out of his skin. What he wouldn’t give to be part of that huddle. What he wouldn’t give to know what they were saying right now.
He e
yed Cassie, then glanced back to the group of cops.
Cassie touched his arm. What? she signed.
He checked himself. It wasn’t a very nice idea. Definitely not an ethical one. And something he shouldn’t even be thinking in connection to Cassie, let alone be presenting to her. Nothing.
You’re wondering if I can read their lips?
Hell, she could read more than lips. She could read his mind. Not a good idea.
She shrugged a shoulder. A mischievous smile curved the corners of her mouth and twinkled in her eyes. Why not? If they were talking loud enough for you to overhear, wouldn’t you listen?
No, I wouldn’t, he signed.
She gave a derisive snort. Sure. And if you couldn’t avoid it, you would keep whatever it is to yourself. You wouldn’t think to tell me.
He shook his head, trying to keep his serious expression in place. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, as much as he enjoyed seeing the mischievous glint replace the shell-shocked look in Cassie’s eyes, he really couldn’t let her get any more involved than she already was. Really, Cassie, you’re tangled up enough in this mess. Besides, it’s not ethical.
She tilted her head to the side and studied him. You really are as honest as Evangeline says, aren’t you?
He looked down at the concrete apron under his feet. How in the hell was he supposed to answer that one? I’m a cop.
“Well, I’m not,” she said out loud.
When he returned his gaze to her face, he wasn’t surprised to see she was watching the deputies brief his lieutenant. A tall county sheriff’s detective with a craggy face and salt-and-pepper hair spoke slowly and deliberately. His lips had to be a piece of cake for Cassie to read, even from this distance.
So much for his worry over her getting more involved.
They determined the path of entry was through the sliding glass door in the workout room. Cassie translated what she was seeing into sign language. Never mind that we told them we came in that way, she added.
Mike couldn’t prevent a chuckle from escaping. Cassie was handling this whole ordeal with humor and attitude that surprised him. She certainly could roll with difficult circumstances. Probably better than he could.
Special Assignment Page 3
