by Jane Godman
“Together?” The word was loaded with stupefaction. “You expect me to get involved in this?”
“Hey.” Vincente held up a conciliatory hand. “I’m trying to do you a favor.”
Before Cameron could explode out of his seat in rage, Laurie placed a hand on his arm. Her training had taught her to keep an open mind. After everything she’d heard about him, she hadn’t come here expecting to like Vincente Delaney, but her gut reaction told her she wasn’t looking at an out-and-out villain. “I don’t think Vincente is making a confession.”
“Confession?” Now it was Vincente’s turn to look stupefied. He stared at Cameron and then muttered a curse. “You thought I was capable of something like that? I’m your brother, yet you thought I could treat young women that way, let alone smuggle drugs and firearms? And that I would do that to the firm...to you? Well, thanks a million.”
“But you said—” Cameron broke off, drawing in a deep breath, struggling to get his feelings under control. “Can we rewind and start this conversation over? At the point where you said you were hoping to shut this operation down?”
Vincente nodded, going up in Laurie’s estimation once again. Cameron had come just about as close as he could to accusing him of running the illegal operation, yet, as soon as his brother asked him to start the conversation over, he was willing to do so. That took a strength of character she hadn’t expected from him.
“Look, I don’t have any evidence. All I know is there has been something odd going on. I figured it out a few months back, but I wanted to find some actual proof. There were trucks taking much longer than they should over certain routes, an increasing number of drivers not available if we called them to do overtime, even when they weren’t scheduled to be working, invoices coming in for gas and repairs from places we shouldn’t have been visiting. I started to get suspicious there might be something illegal going on. That was why I employed Zac Peyton. He’s a private detective.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Cameron asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” There was a hint of bitterness in the twist of Vincente’s lips.
“My God.” Cameron stared at him. “You think Bryce is behind this, don’t you?”
Vincente lifted one shoulder defensively. “I knew it wasn’t me. Who else could it be? I thought maybe he was in trouble and needed money. There have been times, since he left the army, when I’ve wondered if he might be struggling to come to terms with civilian life. But I knew there was no way Bryce would talk to me if that was the case.”
“That’s why you started interfering with the schedules.”
“I figured it would be harder for Bryce to plan whatever it was he was doing—I had no idea what it was until you told me just now—if I kept shaking things up.” Vincente laughed. “It didn’t work. It just made him mad as hell.”
“I know.” Cameron grinned reminiscently. “How much are you paying Zac Peyton?”
Vincente visibly bristled. “Peyton’s salary is coming out of my personal savings. I never put him on the payroll. Why?”
“Whatever it is, it’s not worth it. Laurie and I have found out exactly who is responsible for the illegal operations. If Peyton was any good at his job, he’d have had no trouble doing the same thing. It’s not Bryce, but we’ll need the two of you to help us shut it down.”
“You can count on me,” Vincente said without hesitation.
“I know that now.” Cameron looked at his brother with regret in his eyes. “I should have known it all along.”
* * *
While they waited for Bryce to come over, Cameron filled Vincente in on the details of what they had seen out at the old Dawson ranch. All the while, he was cursing his own bullheadedness. Why had it needed Laurie, who didn’t even know Vincente, to point out the obvious? He watched her as she talked to Vincente, marveling again at the way she made him feel. He’d known her a few days, yet in that time she’d fundamentally changed his life. He could argue it was because of the situation they’d been thrust into, but Cameron knew this went way deeper than that. The effect she had on him was profound and moving. He only had to look at her for his whole world to shift off course. The feeling was scary and exhilarating, and he didn’t know what the hell to do with it.
When he’d met Carla, he had been ready to fall in love. It seemed a strange thing to look back and think about himself now, but it was true. He’d been young, rich, handsome and successful. All that was needed to complete the picture was a beautiful woman on his arm. Prior to Carla there had been plenty of willing partners, but no one had attracted him the way she had. Attracted? Carla had enchanted him. From the moment he saw her, he had tumbled headfirst in love with her.
The only issue they had ever had was exactly what he had told Laurie. Carla didn’t want to stay in Stillwater. She had hated Wyoming, and three years of being back in the place she had been born in, and living here with Cameron, had done nothing to change that. At the same time, Cameron could never see himself moving anywhere else. It was too early to think long term about Laurie—we spent one night together, for God’s sake!—but he couldn’t see how things would be any different with her. Her home, her work, her whole life was in San Diego.
It’s different this time. I’m not looking for someone to complete the picture. I’ve learned that appearances don’t matter. He had learned the hard way not to take love for granted. Love? Hold on, where did that thought come from? It was way too soon to think about loving Laurie. Having fallen so deep and hard once, he knew his heart was too fragile to put it through anything that might cause it to relapse. And the emotions he felt when he looked at her were not the same as those he had experienced when he had looked at Carla. Then it had been bells and whistles. He had been driven to constantly impress Carla, to earn her love, to make her proud of him.
With Laurie, he felt easy, comfortable. His thoughts tried to take him down the route of meant to be, but he dragged them ruthlessly away. Not going there. He forced himself to think of Alberta and the other Stillwater gossips, of pursed lips and shaking heads. Of the mayor making a fool of himself. Putting himself through pain for something that was doomed from the start. Then he looked her way again, and all his good intentions scattered into a million tiny pieces...
Bryce looked thunderous when he arrived. “This had better be good. I had a date.”
Since Bryce generally had a date every night, usually with a different woman each time, this was not news to either of his brothers. “Sam Nichols and Jesse Warren have been using our trucks to run an illegal human-trafficking and drug-smuggling operation out of the old Dawson ranch.” Cameron summed up the reason for bringing him there in one concise sentence. “Probably arms, too,” he added, as an afterthought.
Bryce uttered a curse and sat abruptly down on the sofa. “In that case, I need a beer.”
“I guess we could all use one,” Vincente said. “Laurie, are you okay with beer?”
“I’m fine with beer.” She smiled up at him, and Cameron noticed Vincente’s expression soften as he responded. Vincente? His older brother was the most hard-hearted person Cameron knew, yet, minutes after walking into his apartment, Laurie had him melting like a puppy dog with a new toy.
Once they each had a drink placed on the large oak coffee table in front of them, Cameron quickly recapped what Laurie was doing here in Stillwater and outlined what they had seen out at the old Dawson ranch. His brothers listened in silence, Vincente remaining expressionless while Bryce’s face grew increasingly thunderous.
When Cameron had finished, Bryce turned accusing eyes to Vincente. “You hired Warren and Nichols. What the hell were you playing at?”
Although Vincente’s dark eyes flashed, he didn’t rise to the challenge. “They both came highly recommended and had great references. I had no reason to question them.”
“Bullshit. They mu
st have been looking for a company like ours to use for this operation, which means they’ve done this sort of thing before. You clearly haven’t checked them out properly.”
Vincente slammed his beer down on the table in front of him hard enough to cause the liquid inside to froth over the top of the bottle. Before he could respond, Cameron spoke up. “Fighting among ourselves isn’t going to solve this.”
“The solution seems straightforward.” Bryce’s body language remained uncompromising. Stretching his long legs in front of him, he took a long slug of beer. “We go to the police.” He directed a frown at Laurie. “Come to think of it, isn’t that what you’re here for?”
Cameron had been over and over this in his head. If only it was that simple, but going to the police wasn’t going to be an option. Not yet. “We can’t involve them.”
Vincente frowned. “I don’t usually find myself agreeing with Bryce, but he’s right on this. These men are using our trucks, and some of our drivers, to commit a felony. It’s a no-brainer.”
Before Cameron could speak again, Laurie cut across his thoughts. “Tell them what they need to know.”
He frowned. Even with that permission, he was unsure what to do. Although Vincente was a couple of years older than Grant, the two men had become close friends. Lately, he wasn’t so sure the bond was as strong as it once had been. The bottom line was...how far could he trust Vincente, Grant’s friend, with Laurie’s safety? If he didn’t get the answer “one hundred percent,” he didn’t want to go there.
“Laurie’s assignment has hit a problem, which means she is no longer in contact with the FBI or the police.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly at Laurie as he spoke. It was the best he could do, and he was well aware it was woefully inadequate.
Bryce spluttered on the beer he was drinking. “You mean she’s been fired?”
Laurie started to laugh, her lovely features reflecting genuine amusement. “Cameron, we can’t do this properly by giving your brothers half a story.”
He relaxed back in his seat. “Okay, we’ll tell you all of it. But first, I want to deal with the problem of Warren and Nichols. Leaving Laurie out of this, if we went to the police with the problem, what do you think would happen?”
“Those two low-lives would be arrested,” Bryce said promptly. “And put behind bars for a very long time.”
“That’s all? You don’t think there would be any investigation into our company? You think we’d be allowed to continue trading normally? That we wouldn’t lose money? Our competitors wouldn’t be waiting to step in and pick up our business while we were closed? There’d be no adverse publicity for Delaney Transportation? That this couldn’t close us down, even cost us the company?”
They fell silent for a few minutes while the full force of what Cameron was saying sank in. It was Vincente who broke the silence. “Do you have any suggestions for what we should do instead?”
“I do have an idea—” Before Cameron could outline his plan, the buzzer sounded.
Vincente frowned as he rose to answer it. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
As he pressed the intercom button, some sort of sixth sense got to work so Cameron knew exactly whose voice he was going to hear. Sure enough, the easy, pleasant tones he had dreaded intruded into the silence.
“Hey, it’s Grant.”
Vincente, completely oblivious to the change in Cameron’s mood, laughed delightedly. “Come on up. You may be just the guy we need.”
“No!” Cameron leaped to his feet, but it was too late. Vincente had already pressed the button releasing the door and admitting Grant into the building.
Cameron could almost see the blood drain from Laurie’s face. She was pinned to her seat with panic. His own heart was pounding so loud it felt like it was making a determined effort to break out through his chest.
He moved fast. “Don’t ask any questions. Just go along with everything I say.” He glanced from Vincente to Bryce and back again. They both looked slightly alarmed, but nodded their agreement. “Laurie was never here. You don’t know where she is. If Grant asks, you don’t know anything about her. Vincente, show her through to the master bedroom. Whatever happens, don’t let Grant go back there.”
Bryce was regarding his brother with concern on his face. “Cam, is everything okay?”
Cameron strode over to Laurie, pulling her to her feet and drawing her close. Wishing he could hold her for longer than a few seconds, he tried to warm her with his body, to give her the injection of courage he could see she desperately needed.
“No, everything is not okay.” He bent his head closer to Laurie’s, speaking softly to her. “But it will be. Go with Vincente. I’ll keep you safe.”
She nodded, her eyes wide with nerves. Before she left the room in Vincente’s wake, she cast another scared glance over her shoulder, and Cameron nodded encouragingly.
“What the hell is going on?” Bryce sounded even edgier now.
“I’ll explain it all later.”
Vincente returned just as Grant knocked on the apartment door. Ignoring the bemused expressions on his brothers’ faces, Cameron sat down and took a long slug of beer.
“Shall I get that?” Vincente asked.
“I guess you should.” Cameron took a deep breath, preparing to come face-to-face with the serial killer he had grown up with.
Grant’s ready smile faded as he entered the room just ahead of Vincente and took in the scene.
“Cam, Bryce.” He nodded at them each in turn, his eyes lingering a fraction too long on Cameron’s face. Cameron knew exactly what he was thinking. Just how much information had Cameron already shared with his brothers? “I didn’t know I was interrupting something.”
“Just hanging out, having a few drinks with my brothers,” Vincente said.
Cameron tried not to wince, both at the false joviality in Vincente’s tone—Vincente didn’t do jovial—and at the words themselves. Anyone who knew the Delaney brothers as well as Grant did would know they didn’t socialize. Not together. Cameron and Bryce might hang out, but the three of them? There was more chance of hell freezing over.
Grant’s boyish smile remained fixed in place, but Cameron could see a hint of tension in the lines around his eyes.
“If there’s any of that beer going spare—” His eyes narrowed as he took in the fourth, almost full, bottle of beer on the low table in front of the chair Laurie had speedily vacated. “—or were you expecting me?”
Cameron cast a warning glance at his brothers, but he was pleased to see that, although clearly bemused, they were waiting to take their cue from him. He let his anger carry him over the initial nervousness he had felt when Grant’s gaze landed on Laurie’s drink. You have no right to ask the questions around here. Leaning over, he snagged Laurie’s beer bottle. Maintaining eye contact with Grant, he took a drink from it. Setting the bottle down next to his own, he looked at Vincente.
“Get Grant a beer.”
“Thirsty, Cam?” As he took a seat next to Bryce on the sofa, Grant raised a brow in the direction of the two bottles of beer.
“No, pissed off.”
As he stared into the eyes of his childhood friend, he got that same sensation again. The feeling he got when he had met Grant out on the highway two days ago, just after May King’s shop had been torched. The feeling that a savage killer was very close to the surface and the veneer of respectability was wearing thin.
You’re enjoying this. It was the same thought he’d had back then. It made him want to lunge across the table and pound his fists into that smiling face. Over and over until the smile disappeared and the truth surfaced. The difference between us is I’m not feral. It was a much-needed reminder.
“Any particular reason?” Grant accepted the beer from Vincente with a nod of thanks.
Cameron could f
eel his brothers trying to pick up on the undercurrents between him and the man they knew only as the respectable, hardworking sheriff. Grant was their friend. He’d been pretty much a permanent feature in their lives. Now they could obviously sense something had gone very wrong in his relationship with Cameron. Since Laurie was hiding out in the bedroom, it didn’t take any great test of ingenuity for them to work out it was to do with her. She was the unknown in this equation. Would they trust Cameron to know what he was doing? Or was it possible they might believe he had been bewitched by this stranger with the face of his dead lover? That Laurie was driving a wedge between him and his friend for no good reason? Whatever they might be thinking, Cameron just needed them to keep their thoughts to themselves until Grant was gone.
“Oh, you know. Just a little tired of things that aren’t what they seem.”
Grant tilted his beer bottle toward Cameron with a grin. “I’ll drink to that.” Ignoring the flash of anger in Cameron’s eyes, he took a long swallow. “What happened to your police officer friend? What was her name? Detective Carter?”
It was a good act, but not quite good enough. The relaxed question was at odds with the sharp look in Grant’s light blue eyes. Cameron shrugged, noticing the way Bryce sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Carter was her undercover name. I’m surprised you remembered that.”
Grant’s eyes registered his annoyance at the slipup. “What can I say? I have a good memory.”
“It’s clearly not that great. Not since her real name should be an easy one for you to remember. It’s Bryan. You know, the same as Carla. Her cousin. My girlfriend. The one who died.”
Grant drew a breath. “I’m sorry, Cam. I shouldn’t have got that wrong.” Bastard. He was too good at this. He’d played the part of the good guy for too long to be tripped up by one small slip of the tongue. “Is she still in town?”
“I assume so. Why?”
“No reason. By the way, that murder at the vacation village you told me about when I saw you the other day—I still haven’t heard anything about it. I even stopped by Chief Wilkinson’s office and he didn’t mention it.” There was a wolfish hint of triumph in Grant’s smile now.
