Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Before he could say anything she went on, “Which brings me to a question for you, what exactly are you looking for here, Reese? Because I recognize you’re putting the moves on me. I’m not sure what you expect, either. Go out? Sure. We could go see a movie. Is that still part of date night? Having a relationship? Now that’s totally different. Resident doctors don’t have a lot of downtime for anything serious. So I tend to avoid anything long-term.”

  She wasn’t even sure what a serious relationship looked like, let alone long-term. She bit her lip, took another sip of wine. “Not to mention one with a lawyer.” When she noted that questioning look on his face, she added, “Although there are times when you do get me all jazzed.”

  His lips curved. “There’s not a single doubt in me, Quinn, that I couldn’t have you jazzed and on your back in record time. Give me an hour and you’ll be at my mercy.” He toyed with her fingers before he said, “What I’m looking for is to get to know you better. Is that so difficult to understand?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Pair up?” She laughed. “Now that is so lame.”

  “Good to know you aren’t after jumping my bones then.”

  “Now see, saying stuff like that will definitely get you a certain amount of play time.”

  “How much play time?”

  “We hit the sheets with no intent of getting serious, I’m in. Residents don’t make the best people to date. But we could get to know each other, sure. After all, we’ve got this Boyd thing to ride out, make sure our friends don’t end up dead. Just don’t expect too much from me, Reese. I want to do well as a resident. That’s priority one. I’m not blowing this opportunity for anyone. That is as soon as I get the damned suspension behind me and get reinstated.”

  Maybe it was ego, but he felt like telling her he didn’t mind a challenge and she had definitely been more of one these past two months than any other woman since Brie Peterson in his first year of law. Brie had been a prickly pear, too.

  But since he watched Quinn’s eyes light up every time she talked about anything to do with medicine, he went another way instead. “Why a pediatrician, Quinn?” When she gave him a cutting look, he shrugged and said, “Kit mentioned it.”

  “I like taking care of kids. They are usually the innocent ones who get the short end of the proverbial stick when it comes to the circumstances in life. They get dumped on whenever things take a turn for the worse. And the worse can be pretty damned ugly.”

  “Private practice?”

  “Yeah, but not Beverly Hills. I want to open my own clinic where all kids from all walks of life can get treatment when their parents can’t afford things like shots, stitches, medicine for an ear infection, stuff like that.”

  He reached to take her hand. “Then let’s get this Boyd business behind you and focus on getting you back on duty.”

  “What about you, Reese? Why law?”

  “My father was a lawyer.” It was said simply and without further clarification.

  “And?”

  “He died, last year of law school. Sudden heart attack. The plan had been for father and son to practice law together. I’d looked forward to doing that. Then…” Somewhere inside, his own heart wrenched a little just thinking about the loss he’d never quite adjusted to.

  “I’m sorry, Reese. You loved him. It shows in your eyes. And after all these years, you still miss him.”

  No one had ever picked up on that little chunk about him before. He tilted his head toward the doc, moved in to take her mouth again. This time he moved slower, lingered longer. She tasted like the sweet merlot, so he took the time to tug at her lower lip until he got a nice little moan out of her.

  “You do that very well.”

  “You know what they say, practice makes perfect.”

  “Did I say perfect? Very well is a distant second to perfect. You’ve got an ego there, Brennan.”

  He shook his head. “Parsing words again. Such a hard-ass, Tyler.”

  She grinned as they got up to leave. “Are you kidding? I’m a sweetheart.”

  “Prove it.”

  As soon as they got outside, she grabbed his jacket by the lapels and kissed him hard on the mouth. A burst of white heat ramped up. The kiss went on, a tonsil-dive that turned red-hot.

  Reese nipped her around the waist and brought her closer, whispered in her ear, “Wanna make out in the parking lot, Tyler, and show me whatcha got?”

  She sneaked out a giggle, feeling like a fifteen-year-old teen on her first date. While he playfully backed her in the direction of her car, his arms kept her wrapped up. Meanwhile their mouths continued a steamy byplay.

  As soon as they reached her little red Miata, Reese suddenly lifted her off her feet, plopped her down on the fender of the car. He slid in between her legs and bent his head to cover her mouth again.

  Quinn parted her lips, met the assault with a force of her own. The mating of tongues took her on a slow path inside a furnace. Her belly danced with lust. She felt him harden like iron.

  “Let me take you to bed,” he whispered as he trailed little nips and bites down her jaw.

  “Hmm, okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  “How about I follow you home?”

  “We could go to your place.”

  “Westlake Village? Too far away,” he muttered, nibbling that tender spot under her ear.

  She tilted her head, giving him better access, and said, “Since you’ve been so un-Reese-like all night and not so annoying, I guess my place is closer. Wherever, let’s just get someplace. I want you; Reese.” Her hands crawled up his chest in anticipation.

  With Cade’s earlier threat on his mind and after listening to Quinn’s account of what he’d done to her, Reese already planned on spending the night wherever they ended up. He also knew they had to figure out a way to put an end to the Boyd madness once and for all. Even though he believed in the law with all his heart, Reese wasn’t a delusional man.

  He knew a restraining order at this point would do little to impede Cade or Collin’s momentum into further malice.

  But now was not the time to mention that to Quinn. She looked as relaxed as he’d ever seen her. He intended to do everything in his power to keep her that way for as long as he could.

  Instead of bringing up Cade, he prompted, “Then by all means, let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll follow you home.”

  CHAPTER 4 Book 3

  Cade and Collin crawled out of the Mercedes at the same time.

  One glance at his brother told Cade that Collin was one hundred percent on board now with the plan. He had to be.

  Tonight would be a simple but quick strike. If she happened to be home, together as brothers they’d finally take care of her. If she weren’t, then this little raid would, at the very least, make a statement, pay her back for her part in what had happened to Connor.

  The way Cade saw it, the sneak attack was a win-win.

  But as he approached Quinn’s building from the alleyway, he needed to find out for certain if she were home. Once out of the car, Cade peered into the rear entrance of the parking garage and scanned the dimly lit area. Her Miata wasn’t parked in its dedicated spot.

  There had been no light coming from her condo either. At least from here, the place looked dark. But if he got lucky and she happened to be in bed asleep, he’d send Collin out in the hallway to keep lookout and have a little fun with her.

  Gripping the wrench he’d brought, he took the stairs two at a time up to the second level, walked down a narrow hallway as if he knew exactly where he was going. Because he did know, he soon found himself standing in front of Quinn’s front door. The fact that she could she still be living in this dump after so many years was only one reason the woman had proved to be unworthy of him. Like so many other things, she had simply refused to do anything to present that certain image that came with being a Boyd.

  With gloved hands, ignoring Collin’s nervousness behind him, he immediately began the attempt to jimmy the
lock. As soon as he heard the lock pop, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  He quickly realized she wasn’t at home.

  “Find a candle,” Cade ordered his brother. “Any candle will work.”

  “Sure,” Collin assured him, heading off in the direction of the bedroom.

  Cade, on the other hand, headed to the kitchen where he found the tiny laundry room with a compact washer and dryer combination. He wedged himself into the smidgen of space and with the wrench began to unhook the gas connection to the dryer.

  The deed took under five minutes. He knew he’d been successful when he smelled the odor of gas.

  “Found one,” Collin assured Cade when they met up in the kitchen.

  “Good. Set it on that coffee table over there and light it.”

  “You gettin’ romantic all of a sudden?” Collin remarked, laughing as he struck a match to the wick. The candle flicked to flame.

  “Step on it, you fool. This place will be toast in less than nine minutes. Let’s get out of here.”

  With that, Collin moved his ass toward the front door. “If this works, we could do the same thing to get rid of Boston and Kit. They’re living in that big old Victorian on the outskirts of San Madrid. It’s called Crandall House. I looked it up on the Internet. We could be there in under an hour, in and out of that place before anyone knew what hit them.”

  “Soon, Collin, but not tonight,” Cade promised his brother, as they scurried down the darkened hallway like a couple of rats and out into the warm summer night.

  For weeks, Trevor had kept the Boyd brothers under surveillance, mainly by the GPS tracking devices he’d put under their vehicles. And he’d listened to their plotting from a distance via the bugs he’d planted inside their houses. So when the cops had shown up with a warrant, he’d listened to that byplay as well. Even now they were still in the process of turning the Enclave upside down as they treated the place like a crime scene.

  Since they’d found three bodies on the property, the police were busy going over every inch of the place, room by room, grid by grid. So he’d known the minute they had discovered each of the listening devices he’d planted.

  Not a single one remained intact.

  The cops had also confiscated the brothers’ cars, which meant the GPS tracking devices were now useless.

  He was down to tracking their cell phone usage.

  It was because of that annoying development he had no idea where Cade and Collin had crawled off tonight since he’d had a previous engagement earlier in the day with their brother, Connor.

  Leave it to the local cops to get in his way and screw everything up, he thought, mildly irritated. He shook his head, knowing it couldn’t be helped. It was only a matter of time before the cops finally got around to getting a court order for their cell phones. It had taken months but it seemed the police finally had the Boyd brothers in their sights. He supposed he had to be grateful for that, even if the cops were two steps behind.

  For now, though, he knew the brothers had a habit of spending money like drunken sailors on shore leave. They had expensive tastes in everything, frequenting all the upscale places within a fifty-mile radius of Malibu. They fancied quality-cut cocaine. Trevor had even located their supplier.

  Because the cops were part of this now, it might take a little more work on his part, might be a little more difficult and time consuming, but he was determined to get to them first. Right now, he could do nothing less than keep up with their cell phone usage and their credit card purchases.

  That’s how he had known where Connor was, known he was stalking Baylee, and the rest could be chalked up to being in the right place at the right time. Trevor didn’t particularly care how anyone sized up what had happened to Connor. Baylee’s problem had been eliminated. End of story. Trevor was used to elimination, used to killing people, especially people like Connor. He’d already lived what felt like a lifetime of judging character.

  He and Noah never accepted assignments they hadn’t first checked out—in detail. It was a pact they had made and stuck to before they ever started in the business. Getting rid of people like Connor had been second nature to him for so long he didn’t even think twice about it anymore, especially since he’d arrived in L.A.

  There had been a time he’d lived a normal life with a wife and child, a life before the stars aligned and it had all been taken away from him in the blink of an eye. During the worst time of his life, Noah Parker had befriended him, befriended an angry, deeply enraged man and set his life on a different course altogether.

  Not a better course, he thought now, just different, the elimination kind of different. He’d taken his rage and found a purpose again.

  Who knew there were outlets willing to pay top dollar for a pissed-off widower where his fury could be put to good use?

  Assassins were wanted the world over, needed by governments and private parties around the globe. Work had always been readily available. But he never took an assignment that he didn’t feel was warranted, a job where elimination, in his view, would make the world a better place.

  The philosopher inside him at work again, he mused.

  At least that’s what he had told himself. He had no grand illusions of what he was or what he wasn’t. All he knew or cared about right now was ending the evil that had begun so long ago, evil that had put Noah’s life on the same course as his.

  In his mind, putting an end to Cade and Collin once and for all was the only thing that made any sense, no matter what price he had to pay.

  From the info he’d gathered out of their own mouths and the personal accounts he’d hacked into over the last several months, he had a pretty good idea of the regular choices they made. That had led him to the Terrace Resort and its upscale bar, a favored place they liked to frequent where they could hook up with high class call girls.

  If Trevor had any complaints about Los Angeles, it was the fact that available parking spaces were damned near impossible to find. Because of that, he pulled up near the Resort as close as he could get. The distance was far enough away so that no one would suspect he was there to keep an eye on the valet area and the front lobby.

  His intent was to catch sight of Cade or Collin or both when they entered the hotel or handed off the keys to the valet. He couldn’t cover all the doors to the hotel, of course, but knowing the brothers as he did, they would need to make an entrance. And that meant they would never use self-parking.

  If by some chance they didn’t show up here at the resort, he would be forced to go to Plan B.

  On the drive to her condo, Quinn had never felt more alone. In one short afternoon Cade had managed to pull the rug out from everything she’d worked so hard to get. What if this suspension became permanent? What if it prevented her from achieving her goal of becoming a pediatrician and opening up the clinic she’d planned? What if he managed to ruin everything she’d ever wanted?

  She tamped down the urge to pick up her cell and call Kit or Baylee, pour out her feelings, get things off her chest. She didn’t doubt for a minute either one of them wouldn’t take the time to talk her down, talk her out of this pity party.

  But after what Baylee been through today, the only thing she needed tonight was Dylan. And Kit, she had her own problems dealing with the upcoming hearing. Neither could let down their guards for a minute.

  After all, they didn’t even know she’d been suspended. She’d felt no need to add that layer to Baylee’s distress while she was grilled by St. John earlier at the hospital.

  Quinn wasn’t stupid. She knew the dynamics had changed for both of her friends. Kit had Jake now. Things had changed for Baylee, too. Dylan wasn’t going anywhere. She could see that tonight at the hospital.

  While Quinn could be ecstatic for her friends, she seemed to be teetering on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall off. The suspension had her feeling as if she’d lost something very, very precious, something she’d wanted since—forever. She wasn’t absolutely cert
ain she could ever get it back, either.

  It was that uncertainty that had her wondering what would happen to Mrs. Covington, a breast cancer patient she treated on occasion, or Mr. Sorenson, a man whose stomach cancer was in the final stages, or little Cassidy, a seven-year-old girl suffering from leukemia. The patients she cared about might be gone before she could set foot in the hospital again.

  Three weeks for her would surely feel like an eternity.

  She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Could Reese really work some kind of legal magic and get her job back?

  She wasn’t used to relying on anyone but herself. She’d never been good at getting her hopes up. Too many of her early years had been mired in disappointment for that. She’d learned long ago promises were simply words strung together, usually made to placate a frightened, whimpering kid.

  She had to admit now she’d spent plenty of those early years in fear mode. After all, a five-year-old never knew exactly what one of Ella’s hyped-up, strung-out johns might do when they got fed up listening to a whiny, hungry child.

  She’d made damn sure she didn’t complain for long.

  When she got to her building, a renovated, three-story rectangular strip of art deco limestone built in the ’40s during the post-World War II era, she glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Reese was still following her.

  Spotting his sporty Lexus 600, a bolt of lust tingled in her belly that had her anticipating getting him out of that tailored suit. She rolled down the window and motioned for him to find a parking space on the street while she made the turn into a narrow drive-up that led to the underground parking garage. She pulled the Miata up to the card-reader and swiped her card. The gate went up.