Conceal, Protect

by Carol Ericson

  Noelle slipped back inside the house and grabbed the extra set of keys to the truck. She tossed them to Tara.

  “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” Tara jingled the keys in the air.

  When she drove out of the front gate, Noelle turned to go back inside the house, stopping midway. “Are you ready to take a break? Do you want something to drink or eat? You never had any lunch.”

  “I did have dessert.”

  She’d been out of the flirting game so long, it took her several seconds to catch his meaning. Warmth flooded her cheeks, and she gurgled some inane response.

  J.D. held up his gloved hand. “Sorry. Lame joke.”

  Is that what he thought of her lovemaking efforts? Her spine stiffened, and she turned her back on him. “So, something to eat?”

  “I could use something, but I’ll get it myself if you don’t mind me clattering around your kitchen. Do you have any of those bagels left?”

  “I do. Help yourself. I’m going to get dressed.”

  She closed the door to her bedroom and yanked open her lingerie drawer. It was about time she put on some underwear. She didn’t expect a repeat performance from J.D. He wasn’t the type of man to be used twice, and if she were completely honest with herself, that’s what she’d been doing.

  Not that she hadn’t enjoyed being with him when her mind was present and in the moment. Enjoy? That word didn’t begin to describe the feelings he’d aroused in her.

  She shook out a pair of jeans and stepped into them, stuffing her feet back into her fuzzy slippers. Just because she was getting dressed didn’t mean she had to leave the house.

  “Noelle?” J.D. tapped on the bedroom door.

  She grabbed the sweater she’d laid out on the bed and pulled it over her head, giving J.D. a muffled response. “Yeah?”

  “It’s your phone. I checked the display. Ted’s calling.”

  Her heart thumped a little harder as she folded down the collar of her turtleneck. “Answer it before he hangs up.”

  As she scuffed to the door, she heard J.D.’s voice.

  “Yeah. She’s right here.”

  She threw open the bedroom door and held out her hand for the phone. She couldn’t help the slight tremor in her fingers, but if he was the one calling he must be okay.

  She swallowed and put a smile in her voice. “What’s up, Ted?”

  “It’s Bruce.”

  Shaking her head at J.D., she lifted her shoulders. “What about Bruce?”

  “He’s had an accident, Noelle.”

  A zigzag of fear ran up Noelle’s back, and she automatically pushed the speaker button so J.D. could hear the conversation. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “What kind of accident, Ted? Is he okay?”

  “Noelle, he—he’s dead.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Noelle reached out with her hand. J.D. didn’t know if she sought balance or comfort, but he offered both by pulling her close against his side.

  A tremor rolled through her body, and J.D. tightened his grip around her waist. He shouted into the phone, adrenaline amplifying his voice. “What happened?”

  “It was a skiing accident. Bruce was heading down a triple-black-diamond run, took a wrong turn and skied off a cliff.”

  Noelle licked her lips. “Triple black diamond? Bruce was a good skier, but he was cautious. There’s no way he would’ve attempted one of the most difficult runs on the mountain.”

  “He must’ve been feeling confident because he attempted it—and failed.”

  J.D. cut in. “When did this happen?”

  “Just a few hours ago. I’d heard about an accident on the mountain, but I didn’t know it was Bruce until later. Sheriff Greavy wants to talk to you, Noelle. I told him Pierpont was here visiting you.”

  J.D. took the phone that Noelle held between them with a trembling hand and clamped it to his ear. “Was Pierpont with anyone? Were there any witnesses to the accident?”

  Noelle’s body jolted against his. She knew as well as he did that Pierpont’s accident was related in some way to Zendaris. But what did Zendaris’s men hope to gain from killing Noelle’s friend? Had they questioned him first?

  “As far as I know, Pierpont was on his own. Maybe if he’d been with others, they could’ve talked him out of taking that run.”

  “Have they recovered the body?”

  Noelle sobbed against his chest and he stroked her hair. She needed him now even if she had played him for a fool.

  “Yeah, search and rescue brought him down.”

  “Do you know if foul play is suspected?”

  “Foul play? You mean like murder? Why would...?” Ted stopped and sucked in a noisy breath. “What’s going on? First, you two give me the third degree about people following and kidnapping me and now this. Does Bruce’s accident have something to do with that crank call Noelle got about me?”

  “It just might. If you happen to see Greavy, tell him I’m on my way.”

  “Is this connected to Alex’s murder? Is someone after Noelle?”

  “We’re not sure. But, Ted?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t go down any triple-black-diamond runs.”

  J.D. ended the call and eased Noelle into a chair.

  Rocking forward, she covered her face with her hands. “This is my fault. This is all my fault.”

  She already blamed herself for her husband’s death. J.D. wasn’t going to allow her to take responsibility for this one, too.

  “Stop.” He knelt in front of her and grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her wet face. “Put the blame where it belongs—on Zendaris and his thugs.”

  She sniffled, her gaze locking onto his. “They thought Bruce was my brother, didn’t they? That must be it.”

  Her fear hadn’t clouded her reasoning skills, as the same thought had been forming in his mind as well. “That’s a possibility. It explains the phone call. They thought they had Ted. They must’ve discovered soon after talking to you that they had the wrong guy.”

  “That’s why they never called me back with their demands.” She wriggled a wrist free from his grip and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “They were too busy getting rid of Bruce. Why didn’t they just let him go?”

  Sitting back on his heels, he released her other wrist. “You know the answer to that. They don’t leave loose ends, especially a loose end like Pierpont with his connections. I’m sure he stupidly informed them who he was. Maybe he even thought he and his family’s millions were the intended target.”

  “Which is why they’re going to kill me whether or not they get any answers from me about Abby.”

  “Not if I stop them first.”

  “How are we going to do that? They haven’t shown their faces yet. We have a vague description of the truck that ran us off the road last night, but you know they’ve ditched that by now.”

  “They’ll make a mistake. Hell, they already made a mistake. They grabbed the wrong guy. They’re getting desperate.”

  “The only reason they haven’t nabbed me yet is because of you, isn’t it? They would’ve plucked me off the street by now, or maybe even from my own house, if you hadn’t been on the scene.”

  He placed his hands on the cushion of the chair on either side of her thighs and leaned in, almost touching her nose with his. “That’s why I’m here. Do you think Prospero was going to allow Zendaris to get his hands on Abby Warren’s roommate?”

  She blinked and her long, dark lashes shimmered with unshed tears. “Propsero had to make sure I wasn’t in league with my roommate first.”

  “Can’t be too careful.” He huffed out a breath, stirring the ends of her hair, and then pushed to his feet.

  At least he’d made it clear that he was acting as her protector in the name of Prospero and not because he had some special feeling for her. Not that at all.

  “I’m going to see Sheriff Greavy and find out if he can shed any more light on Pierpont’s accident than Ted
did. Maybe someone saw Pierpont with someone on the slopes. Maybe there’s camera footage somewhere that will help us ID these guys.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Are you feeling up to it? I don’t want to leave you here by yourself, but I also don’t want you pushing yourself.”

  “I’m fine. I don’t even have a headache anymore.”

  He brushed at the dirt on his jeans. “I’m going to shower first and change clothes.”

  “Do it here.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice. And if she didn’t ask him to move in here, he’d have to propose it himself.

  “I dropped my bag in the guesthouse when you were sleeping. I’m going to run over and grab some clothes.”

  She stood, framed by the door, watching him while he jogged to the guesthouse. He grabbed a duffel bag full of clothes he hadn’t unpacked yet. Hell, he’d take the whole thing over. He slung the bag over his shoulder as he walked through her door, and she didn’t blink an eye.

  After his shower, he dressed in the steam of the bathroom and slicked back his hair. Wiping the condensation from the mirror with his fist, he leaned in close and rubbed his knuckles across his stubble. He could use a shave, but he wanted to catch the sheriff before nightfall.

  He might have to tell Greavy everything later, or at least as much as Prospero would allow.

  Pushing open the bathroom door, he stepped into the hallway, dragging his bag after him.

  “Ready?” Noelle peered down the hallway. A pair of snow boots had replaced the fuzzy slippers and she’d pulled the white gauze from her wound, going with a bandage in its place.

  “Yep.” He held up the duffel bag by the strap.

  “You can put that in my bedroom...for now.”

  He crossed the hall and dropped the bag by the door just inside her room. It didn’t mean a thing.

  She grabbed both of their jackets from the hooks by the front door and tossed his to him. “At least it stopped snowing.”

  She swung open the front door, and J.D. welcomed the blast of cold air that assaulted his face. He had no idea how he was going to be able to spend the night in Noelle’s house with her soft, warm body under the same roof.

  Maybe he’d have to sleep with the windows open.

  He unlocked the rental SUV and helped Noelle inside. “Have you heard from Tara? Is she getting her truck towed?”

  “I haven’t heard from her yet, but that’s not unusual. Once her mother and Mrs. Corcoran get to talking, there’s no stopping them. Poor Tara’s probably stuck listening to their gossip.”

  “They’re going to have a lot of gossip to go over now.”

  “I can’t believe Bruce is gone. It seems every time...” She clamped her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He raised a brow in her direction, waiting for her to finish, but she pressed her nose to the window instead.

  “Do you think Bruce’s killers made a connection between me and Bruce? I’m thinking they didn’t once they found out he wasn’t my brother. Otherwise, they would’ve just substituted him for Ted as a hostage.”

  “Better for them to have a brother than a friend as a hostage, but you might be right.” J.D. adjusted the rearview mirror and gave it a glance. “That means they weren’t around the lodge during our dinner with Bruce or they would’ve seen us with him.”

  “So how did they mistake him for Ted? They look nothing alike.”

  Hunching his shoulders, J.D. braced his hands against the steering wheel. “Maybe they saw Ted and Bruce together that night we had dinner and got their wires crossed. Tara told us she’d seen Ted with Bruce that night. I do know Zendaris can’t be happy about the screwup. He does not tolerate incompetence from his henchmen.”

  Noelle zipped up her jacket even though he’d cranked on the heat as soon as he started the car. “Then he’s probably not a very happy arms dealer right now because whoever’s after me has messed up a few times.”

  “And they’ll continue to mess up because they’re not getting anywhere near you.” His words rang with confidence. He knew he’d lay down his life to protect this woman.

  “I wish I could figure out where Abby hid those plans. If we could find the plans, Zendaris’s game would be over. He’d have no reason to keep hunting me down.”

  “I haven’t wanted to pressure you, Noelle, but anything you could remember would help us out. It would’ve been about four months ago, right before she disappeared from your life.”

  “That’s when she stole the plans from the Prospero agent?”

  “Yeah. What was going on with her? Did she travel anywhere? Open any new accounts with safe-deposit boxes? Dig any holes under the carpet?”

  Noelle drew her brows together and toyed with the gloves in her lap.

  “That last one was a joke.” J.D. nudged her with his elbow, not that he expected her to be laughing.

  “If only she had dug a hole under the carpet.” She drummed her fingers on the dashboard. “Abby did have some computer problems around that time.”

  “Too bad she didn’t have computer problems before she hacked into Cade’s computer to lift the plans.”

  “J.D.” Her fingers stopped their nervous tapping, and her nails slid from the dashboard.

  “Did you remember something?” His pulse thudded in his temples while he waited for her response.

  “Abby had to use my computer.”

  His blood raced through his veins, and he had to practically gasp for breath. “Abby Warren was using your computer? For what?”

  “To access her emails and client sites and—” She pressed three fingers to her lips. “You don’t think she put something on my computer, do you?”

  “Did you notice anything different about your computer after she used it? Additional files?”

  “No, but then, I don’t know what half the files on my computer do, anyway. I wouldn’t notice anything different.” She snapped her fingers. “Except...”

  J.D. had to grind his teeth to keep his head from exploding. This had to be it. Abby put the plans on Noelle’s computer. But why hadn’t Zendaris’s men stolen the computer? The D.C. police had removed all of Abby’s computers on Prospero’s orders, but nobody had thought to check Noelle’s.

  Where was Noelle’s computer right now? He’d rescued it from his truck after the crash, so she had to have it here somewhere.

  “Except what, Noelle?”

  She’d twisted her fingers into knots, her puzzled gaze boring into the road outside the window.

  “Sh-she did some stuff on my computer for security purposes, she said at the time.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “She added some passwords and security measures to some of my folders. She warned me that any good hacker could get into my computer and compromise my data, even steal my identity.”

  J.D. snorted. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

  “Here.” Noelle tapped on the window. “The sheriff’s substation is in this direction.”

  J.D. took the turn, but this conversation interested him much more than what Sheriff Greavy could tell them about Pierpont’s death.

  “So, she had you add some passwords to your folders. Is that all?”

  “Yeah, but she could’ve been doing anything on my computer.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Huh?”

  “Where is your computer? I haven’t seen it yet since I pulled it from the wreckage.”

  “It’s either at the house or in the truck. I can’t remember if I took it out of the truck.”

  “I’m wondering why Zendaris didn’t go for your laptop the first time he broke into your place in D.C.”

  “It wasn’t there. I take it with me to work, and that’s when they broke in.”

  “And when they broke into the ranch house?”

  “I had it with me in the truck.”

  “So as far as Zendaris’s men know, you don’t have a computer, or since it wasn’t staring them in the f
ace when they broke into first your apartment and then your house, it didn’t occur to them to look for one.” Just like it hadn’t occurred to him.

  He parked the car in front of the substation, and Noelle unsnapped her seat belt. “This is all supposition. Why would Abby put those plans on my computer? Anything could’ve happened to them from there. My computer could’ve crashed and she would’ve lost everything.”

  “But she made sure that wasn’t going to happen. Those security measures she put into play on your laptop must’ve covered the file she put on your hard drive. That woman knew her way around a motherboard. We could’ve used her on Prospero. Too bad she was crazy.”

  Noelle’s lips tightened as she got out of the car. She slammed the door behind her.

  J.D. jumped in his seat as the car rocked with the force of the slam. Whoa! Did he just hit a nerve? Did Noelle believe he thought she was crazy for that OCD stuff?

  He’d have to set her straight on that. If the only thing she manifested after all she’d been through the past few years was a little obsessive-compulsive behavior, he’d nominate her for the superhero hall of fame.

  But first they needed to check that computer.

  The cramped sheriff’s substation on the mountain buzzed with activity—it was not every day a billionaire entrepreneur skied off the side of a mountain. Even a few members of the press hung on the fringes, ready for a statement or a piece of information that could spice up their stories.

  If they only knew.

  Zendaris would find out soon enough that his guys had committed an even bigger screwup than snatching the wrong man. The man they’d snatched happened to have a public profile, and his death would generate some publicity. Zendaris hated publicity.

  J.D. draped an arm around Noelle’s shoulders and guided her toward the sheriff’s closed office door. J.D. tapped on the glass.

  An officer peeked through the crack in the door. His scowl dissolved when his gaze fell on Noelle. “Ms. Dupree, Sheriff Greavy is expecting you.”

  J.D. squeezed into the room beside Noelle just in case there was some question as to whether or not the sheriff was expecting him, too.

  Sheriff Greavy looked up from his computer screen and tipped his glasses to the end of his nose. “Jarvis, try to clear the room out there. Have a seat, you two.”