by Joni Hahn
That’s impossible technology.”
Obviously not. He had to be a product of Clint Robinson and Mitchell Jacobs.
Yesterday, he’d had D.I.R.E. and Warner on his side, and had infiltrated Powers International. With security and science and technology on his side, he could control the country. His bid for the presidency would be virtually unstoppable.
Now, Warner sat on the verge of bankruptcy and Mitchell Jacobs had shut down his investigation into St. James’ reappearance. Thank God he still had his inside person at Powers International.
If he didn’t watch it, he’d lose not only the next election, but everything.
“I can’t help you, Warner. If I were you, I’d work harder to woo Natalie.”
Boiling hot heat hit his shoulders and shot down his back. With a yelp, he jumped up from the bench and whipped around to face Warner. Iron wrist cuffs gleamed in the park lamp a few feet away.
“What the hell did you just do to me?”
His shoulders burned like a hundred bee stings. Shrugging out of his jacket, he rolled his shoulders, trying to alleviate the pain.
Warner stood toe-to-toe with him and pointed in his face. “I could’ve put you in the hospital if I’d wanted to go that far so, don’t screw with me. I could easily go public and tell the media you put my brother at that fundraiser to ruin Mills’ chances in the next election. They would have a field day with that.”
Dan gripped the back of the park bench. It looked like Warner’s radiated heat project had succeeded. If the maniacal look on his face said anything, John Warner had serious, psychological issues. His wide, irrational eyes and sinister smile were alarming.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. John Warner could and would kill him.
Now, he knew why Paul had never stood up to his brother.
“Find money for me, Meeks. Before your fundraiser next week. In the meantime, I’ll work on Natalie.”
Dan swallowed hard, the pain nearly buckling his knees. He couldn’t show weakness to Warner. “If you hurt her, I swear-“
His sinister smile vanished to be replaced by wide-eyed innocence. “Why would I do that? I’m in love with your daughter.”
Chapter 10
Rachel walked into Natalie’s D.I.R.E. hospital room the next afternoon. “I came to spring you.”
Releasing a deep sigh of relief, Natalie smiled. She would go stark-raving mad if she didn’t get out of there soon. Granted, she’d gotten some tremendous sleep, but she needed to move. Her current version of walking resembled a drunk in the rain, but she’d take it as long as it gave her a change of scenery.
“Thank God, Rachel.” Wincing, she moved to hang her legs over the side of the bed. “I may go postal if I have to sit in here another minute.”
Chuckling, Rachel pushed a wheelchair toward the bed. “Why don’t we use this? You can start jogging tomorrow.”
Laughing, Natalie stood on one foot then dropped into the wheelchair. “Any chance you guys have a mall in this place?”
Her hospital gown was dotted with blood down one side and smelled like Riordan’s spicy musk scent. The constant reminder of his touching small talk drove her crazy. The in-your-face tough guy had a sweet side that had made it impossible to put him out of her mind.
“No mall, but I did grab you some D.I.R.E. yoga pants and t-shirts from the fitness room. I’ve proposed to Mitchell that we keep clothes on hand. Of course, he gave me no answer.”
Grabbing a bag of medical supplies from Natalie’s bedside table, Rachel pushed the wheelchair to the door and backed out into the hallway.
“Cass, Jocelyn and I are meeting at the pool later for margaritas and nachos. Would you like to join us?”
Surprise and girlish excitement flashed through her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent an evening with the girls. She didn’t really have any close friends. The only women she saw on a regular basis were Josie and the girl at the coffee shop.
“I’d love that, Rachel. Thank you.”
Rachel turned the corner. Stepping forward, she pressed the elevator button.
“You can’t drink and take pain killers so nothing more than acetaminophen from here on out, okay?”
She pulled in her lips over her teeth. Surely the pills she’d just taken would wear off by then…?
“I’ll leave my lampshade at home. I promise.”
Rachel laughed as she pushed the wheelchair into the elevator. “On second thought, maybe it would do you some good to let loose a little. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Shaking her head, Natalie said, “That could be dangerous. I wasn’t exactly an angel back in high school and college. I did everything my father told me not to do.”
“Really? I never would’ve pegged you for a rebel.”
A melancholy sigh escaped. “Not anymore. I’m afraid I had to grow up. I have a professional reputation to uphold.”
The elevator doors opened. Rachel pushed her down to a crossroads of hallways before heading down the housing wing.
“Natalie, there’s nothing wrong with having some crazy fun once in a while.”
“If you have friends.” God, she hoped she didn’t sound desperate.
Stopping in the hallway, Rachel bent over to look at her. “You don’t just hang out with the girls? Go shopping? Watch a movie?”
A faint heat warmed her face. “No. I’m afraid my best friend is my admin assistant, Josie Aguilar, and she’s old enough to be my grandmother.”
Frowning, Rachel continued down the hall. “I’m shocked. I don’t know what I would’ve done without my best friend, Glenna, and the people in Creekmore. They were my life.”
Natalie shrugged. “After my sister was kidnapped, my mother kept me sheltered from the public eye. I could never leave her sight. I grew used to being alone.”
The wheelchair stopped again. Rachel stood beside the chair. “Kidnapped?”
Natalie gave a rueful smile. “Yes. I had a younger sister that was kidnapped when I was ten years old. Keegan was eight. The case remains open to this day.”
Gasping, Rachel covered her mouth with her hand.
“My mother blamed my father and his place in national politics for Keegan’s disappearance. She died two years later. My father insists she died of a broken heart. I’ve never looked into it to determine the real cause.”
“Oh, Natalie. I’m so sorry.”
Leaning down, Rachel gave her a hug. A foreign feeling of warmth spread throughout her body.
“Thank you.” Natalie smiled as she pulled away. “I always thought that Keegan was meant to be my best friend. That we were meant to endure this life as senator’s children, together. My college friends were few and far between but, they were great to party with. I knew they were after my wealth and where it could take us but I didn’t care. They were the only friends I had.”
Tears formed in Rachel’s eyes. Fanning her face, she lifted her chin. “Okay. You’re making me cry.”
Natalie frowned to herself. Now she knew why Riordan hated her sympathy the other night. Pity did not sit well. It made her feel guilty for bringing up the subject at all.
“Well Rachel, I could roll over your toe and make you forget all about it.”
Laughing, Rachel swatted her on the shoulder. “I’ll pass, thanks.” Putting the wheelchair back in motion, she said, “You’ve got a friend in me, Natalie. Anytime you want to hang out, just give me a call. I’ll have Tris teleport me to San Diego.”
Rachel had told her about Tristan and her brother’s enhancements. She still couldn’t believe such powers were possible.
“Deal.”
They stopped in front of a door. Scanning her thumb over the security panel, Rachel shoved it open. She backed in the wheelchair and turned it around. Riordan’s scent hit Natalie full force.
Rachel shut the door. “Here we are.”
Taking in the modern, comfortable apartment done in shades of blue, gray and white, Natalie would
’ve thought the space uninhabited if it hadn’t been for that smell.
Unease settled in her stomach.
“What is this place?” She looked over her shoulder at Rachel.
“This is where you’ll be staying. It’s Riordan’s apartment.”
#####
Riordan found himself in a stare down with the imposter.
He sat in the D.I.R.E. San Diego interrogation room, Rose behind the one-way glass, running his prints. The imposter sat across the table from him, handcuffed hands lying on top.
The blonde man was so not him, it was almost ridiculous. His hair looked more white-blonde than dark and sun-streaked, his eyes grey rather than pale blue. He wore a pink polo, plaid shorts and boat shoes, attire you wouldn’t get Riordan to wear on a dare. His build looked slight and unfit rather than cut, his skin pale rather than tanned.
Whoever planted this sonovabitch didn’t have a freaking clue.
“What’s your name?”
He lifted a corner of his mouth. “This isn’t a freaking police station. I’m not telling you shit.”
Riordan shook his head once. “You’re right. We’re not the police. We’re The D.I.R.E. Agency.”
His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “What the hell is The D.I.R.E. Agency?”
“Defense, Intelligence and Reconnaissance Enforcement. We’re a private security agency with international security clearance. So, you see dick weed, you’re in much deeper shit than the local police.”
The imposter leaned forward, his stale breath reaching Riordan in his chair. “You must think I was born yesterday. I want to call my lawyer.”
They always had to do it the hard way.
Chuckling, Riordan held out his hand, palm up. The man’s steel, hand-cuffed wrists flipped backward and hit him in the nose.
He cursed aloud. “Dammit…”
“You said it yourself.” Riordan hooked an elbow over the back of his chair. “This isn’t the police station. You don’t get a call to your freaking lawyer. You’re stuck here until you talk. So, you might as well save us all a lot of time and start singing.”
The asshole pressed around on his nose with gentle movements, his gold Rolex gleaming in the fluorescent lights.
“It’s not broken… yet.” Riordan gave him a deadpan stare.
“Yeah, well, you’re going to be freaking broken when they send you back to Mongolia.”
Riordan stilled. Now, they were getting somewhere.
“Who’s going to send me back?”
Eyes going wide, the asshole swallowed hard before his gaze shifted to the table top. “Uh, whoever put you there the first time.”
“And, how did you know I was sent there the first time?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, common knowledge.”
Riordan flashed out his hand. The hand-cuffs swung back and hit him in the nose with greater force than the first blow.
Blood trickled from his nose. The jerk leaned over the side of the table, cursing.
“I think you broke my nose.”
Riordan leaned over the side of the table and got in his face. “No, I think you broke your nose. I didn’t touch you. Now, give me some freaking answers before I bring in a pipe wrench and let you beat yourself unconscious.”
Blood trickled to the floor in broken drops of red. “If I talk, they’ll kill me.”
“If you don’t talk, I’ll let you commit suicide.” Riordan met his gaze with a cocked brow.
Sitting up, the imposter leaned back his head on his shoulders. Riordan sat up, too.
“You were supposed to have been killed.”
Sighing with impatience, Riordan said, “Tell me something I don’t know. Like how you acquired my identity?”
“I, uh, stole your credit card information online.”
Shoving back his chair, Riordan stood. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get that wrench.”
Kicking his chair in frustration, the imposter cursed aloud. “Shit.” He spat the word, his tone nasally and tinged with anxiety. “I had just gotten fired from my job as an aide for Harold Mills.”
Mills? Holy shit…
Riordan sat back down. “What happened?”
Using the hem of his shirt, he wiped the blood from his upper lip. “I found evidence that he’d arranged the botched hit on Dan Meeks a few years ago. I called him on it.”
There’d been a hit on Meeks’ life. Why hadn’t that come up in their intel?
“That wasn’t very smart.” Riordan leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“I had a lot of debt and needed money.”
Blackmail. This dick weed had threatened a state representative. Obviously, intelligence wasn’t a job prerequisite.
“So, Mills fired you?”
He gave a sarcastic laugh. “Threw me out of his office and told me not to show my face around there again. So, I went straight to Meeks’ local office. I told them I had information on the attempt on his life and thought he’d like to see it before I went to the police.”
Oh hell. He did not like where this was going.
Riordan looked at the one-way glass. “Are you getting this?”
Rose’s voice came over the speaker system. “Yep.”
“So, what happened then?”
“Meeks agreed to meet with me. I showed him a copy of two of the emails. I told him I wanted money to pay off my debt, and a job.”
So, if this guy presented Meeks with evidence that Mills tried to have him killed, why hadn’t it gone public? Why was he still roaming the streets and running for office?
“Meeks offered me money and your identity.”
Jumping up from the chair, Riordan wanted to pace but held back. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at the asshole.
Natalie’s father. Natalie’s father had stolen his identity. The sorry sonovabitch.
“Why my identity?”
The jerk snorted back blood. “He wanted to infiltrate Luke Powers’ empire.”
“Why Powers?”
The imposter shrugged. “He wanted access to Powers’ research and development. He wanted to bring him down.”
“V.P. of his management company. How did you manage that? More blackmail?”
“Hell, no. I had more money than I could spend.”
Riordan caught him by the front of the shirt. “That was my freaking money, you asshole.”
Shaking his head vigorously, he said, “Not all of it. Powers paid me a lot of money.”
Riordan searched his gaze. “How did you get him to do that?”
“With your identity.” He gave him a superior grin. “It was all part of the master plan.”
Riordan shook him like a rag doll. “What freaking master plan?”
“Powers had been searching for you for months. You’re his bastard son.”
Chapter 11
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
Jaydan dangled a bottle of beer in front of Riordan’s face, another in his opposite hand. He hadn’t heard Rose walk outside. A full moon over the Pacific Ocean had drawn his gaze, the imposter’s words, his mind.
Make that Frederick Richey. His identity thief’s real name was Frederick Richey. The blackmailer.
Riordan sat up on his motorcycle seat to take the beer. “If I was Luke Powers’ son, it would make sense. What better way to get the fast track inside his tight organization?”
Rose took a sip of his beer. “So, you don’t think you’re Powers’ son?”
Riordan swallowed back a long draw on his bottle. “Hell, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to dismiss anything until I have proof otherwise. But damn… me, the son of one of the wealthiest men in the world? Not likely.”
Pulling out his phone, Rose pressed a button and handed it to Riordan. “I thought you’d want to see what you’ll look like in twenty years.”
He stared down at a photograph, the caption beneath, Technology Billionaire, Luke Powers.
Riordan’
s shoulders slumped. Hell. He looked so much like Powers, there could be no doubt.
With a small chuckle, Rose said, “I’ve seen both of you but never registered the resemblance. I’d be shocked if it turned out to be a lie.”
He handed back the phone to Rose. “You’d think he would’ve run DNA tests.”
Rose shrugged. “Maybe. But, if he’d been searching for you and Richey provided enough proof otherwise, why would he? He could’ve gotten caught up in the excitement, too.”
“Excitement? If he was so damned excited to find me, where was he my entire life? We could’ve used a billion or two to get out of my grandfather’s drug-infested house.”
Taking another swallow of beer, Rose said, “Maybe hitting fifty gave him some kind of guilt trip. Maybe he needs a bone marrow transplant or something. Who knows?” A slow smile filled his face. “But damn, Saint. You’re going to be a rich sonovabitch.”
Riordan gave a slight shake of his head. He didn’t need Powers’ money. He wanted back the money he’d earned and Richey blew.
“So, if Meeks put me away a year and a half before he inserted Richey into Powers’ organization, he’s had a master plan all along.”
Rose held a finger in the air. “He couldn’t have known Naylor would bring you back.”
Riordan shrugged. “Maybe not. But, now that I’m here, he’s had to figure out a way to keep tabs on me without alienating Mitchell.”
Stilling, Rose slowly turned to face him. “You’re not implying that Natalie is in on this…?”
He held out his hands, palm up. “It’s perfect. He calls his buddy, Mitchell, to see what’s going on. Jacobs tells him about me. He offers Natalie’s help, she tries to seduce me and boom… he’s on the inside.”
Rose stared at him with a get-serious look. “Are we talking about the same woman that tried to jump out of a moving vehicle yesterday because she wanted to keep you safe?”
“She was running on adrenaline, Rose.”
Beer bottle in hand, Rose pointed at him. “You know, you do need to see a psychologist about this trust issue you have going on.”
He glared at Jaydan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
