Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1

by Sydney Somers

“Who? The shooter? Was it Wade?” Despite that his name had come up, she still had a hard time wrapping her mind around the possibility. “Was he working for Blackwater?”

  Burton’s brows drew together like he couldn’t understand the question, then he nodded and tried to move.

  “Lie still. Help is coming.” God, how much longer for an ambulance? How far away was the closest hospital?

  Sensing movement, she lifted her head, and found only Glen in the doorway.

  “Is he awake?”

  “Yeah. Is the house clear?”

  “Yeah. Nothing left behind but a partial footprint in the kitchen.”

  “Max,” Burton whispered. His lids slid down and he forced them back up. He stared hard at Glen, who stood over her shoulder.

  “How’s he doing?” Glen crouched next to them, and if she hadn’t been watching Burton closely, she would have missed the way he flinched when Glen moved closer to him.

  Coincidence. The man had been shot, likely by a cop he knew. He was entitled to be a little nervous, wasn’t he?

  Burton moved his eyes in Glen’s direction over and over, and every time she felt something in her stomach get tighter and tighter.

  Already the sweatshirt was soaked through with blood. “I need something else to slow the bleeding, can you get me some towels?”

  The second he left the room, Max reached for her phone. She pushed redial, telling herself it was crazy to think for even a second―

  A recorded voice for Directory Assistance sounded in her ear.

  Lucas stared out the passenger-side window, trying to figure out what was nagging at him so hard.

  “You’re wishing now you’d brought her along, aren’t you?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “So you’re not worried about anything happening to her?”

  “Max can handle herself.”

  She’d been on her own a lot longer than she’d been with him. He knew she’d be fine, had to believe that. Otherwise the oily twisting in his gut was going to get in the way of the job they still had to do. He wasn’t at all used to being so protective of a woman, and one who was quite capable of looking out for herself.

  Eli scoffed. “That didn’t answer the question.”

  Lucas straightened in his seat, trying to shrug off the anxious vibe rolling under his skin.

  “You gonna marry her?”

  He shot Eli a disbelieving look. “What? That’s a bit premature don’t you think? We haven’t even spent twenty-four hours together where we haven’t been running from something.”

  “Sometimes you just know.” His friend spoke with a lot of conviction for a man who swore up and down he wasn’t built for long-term relationships.

  Lucas fiddled with the bag of gear at his feet.

  “Do you love her?”

  Hard as he tried, Lucas couldn’t get a read on whether or not Eli thought that was a good thing. He didn’t need anyone’s approval when it came to his feelings for Max, but he still wanted Eli and Caleb to like her, seeing as he planned on having her in his life.

  “I think we have other things to focus on.”

  Eli stared at him, waiting.

  “You really want to have this conversation?”

  “I’m not offering to plan the wedding. It’s just a question.”

  “No, do you take sugar in your coffee, is just a question.”

  His friend held up a hand. “Consider the subject dropped.”

  Grateful, Lucas went back to staring out the window, saying nothing for a minute then, “Yeah, I love her.”

  Eli grinned.

  “Anything else you want to know?”

  “I’m good.”

  They lapsed into silence once more, then, “If you were getting married, you’d pick me to be your best man, right?”

  Lucas rolled his eyes.

  “You think she’d take your name? Maxine McAllister,” Eli recited, testing it out.

  Something caught in Lucas’s mind, something…

  “Fuck.”

  “Take it easy, man. If you want to ask Caleb instead, that’s cool.”

  “Turn the car around.”

  Eli looked him like he was crazy. “You really think proposing now is a good idea?”

  “He knew my name.” Lucas hit the dash, pissed at himself. “Blackwater called me by my last name and I didn’t even notice.” Hadn’t noticed anything but the knife Snake had to Max’s throat.

  Eli didn’t wait for him to finish his explanation before doing a U-turn that probably would have had Max digging her fingers into the seat.

  If that bastard touched her…

  “You might want to share the conversation going on inside your head with the rest of the class.”

  He released a breath, fighting the tightness clamped across his chest. “I told Max’s partner my last name.” He snatched up Eli’s phone and put a call in to Tess.

  She didn’t wait for him to say anything, but started with, “If this about me helping Max—”

  “Help her what?”

  “Lucas?” Clearly she’d been expecting it to be Eli calling. “Max wanted me to track a number for her. Ralph Burton’s. The thing is, his location matched hers. Then she told me to call her back in five minutes. That was six minutes ago and she’s not picking up.”

  Jesus, were Glen and Burton working together?

  He glanced over at the speedometer, and Eli followed his gaze.

  “If I could turn this thing into the Delorean for you and fly over the people slowing me down, I would.”

  “I know.”

  Eyes focused on the road, Eli frowned. “Maybe Blackwater found out your name from another source. Maybe he caught a good close-up of you on surveillance footage from the night of the party and ran it through some facial recognition software.” He shrugged. “Didn’t Max’s partner lose his girlfriend because of all this?”

  “Yeah, she was killed in a car bomb.” Mother fucker. “Tess, I want you to check Glen Novak’s file and tell me if he’s had any bomb squad training or anything else that points to a knowledge of explosives.”

  He watched Eli swerve around cars as he listened to Tess’s fingers tapping over her laptop.

  “No bomb squad training but his father spent the last twenty years working as an explosives expert.”

  Lucas closed his eyes, forcing back the fear that Max had already been blindsided by her partner.

  “What do you want me to do, Lucas?” Tess asked.

  “Be Caleb’s eyes and ears, and if he can make a move on his own to retrieve the case, tell him he should take it.”

  “If Max is in trouble you might need backup.”

  “I’ve got Eli and he’s been bitching about missing out on all the action anyway.”

  They were almost back to Glen’s when he hung up the phone and checked the cartridge on his gun.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max disconnected the call and hit redial again.

  She needed to hear the voice again, needed to be sure all the second-guessing she’d been doing lately hadn’t made her mishear anything.

  Except deep down she knew she’d heard correctly. Glen hadn’t called 9-1-1 and there was only one reason not to—he’d been the one who shot Burton.

  If it had been an accident or self-defense, he wouldn’t have acted as though he’d just arrived.

  Jesus. Burton wasn’t the one on Blackwater’s payroll. It had been Glen all along.

  “Who are you calling?” Glen handed her the towels, his expression unreadable, and for the first time it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.

  “I was calling Lucas, but my call was dropped,” she lied.

  “You sure he isn’t just ignoring your call?” He crossed to the window, doing a convincing job of looking for an ambulance that wouldn’t be arriving.

  With his back turned, she reached down for her gun, but felt only carpeting. A quick glance confirmed that he must have taken it when he’d crouched down next to her a minute
ago.

  Facing her, Glen crossed his arms. “How do you know he doesn’t have some kind of ulterior motive?”

  “Like retrieving the same missing weapon you’re looking for?”

  Glen’s lips curved in a chilling smile, and his gaze landed on Burton. “He gave me away, didn’t he? Because if you came here suspecting me, you wouldn’t have put your gun down.” He withdrew it from his jacket and laid it on the far corner of his desk.

  She didn’t say a word, refusing to show him how rattled she was.

  He pushed away from the window. “But to answer your question, it’s not the weapon I’m most interested in.” He opened a drawer on his desk, unzipped a long and narrow leather case and produced a hunting knife. “It’s the flash drive, I’m after. The one your friend insisted she didn’t have the night I killed her.”

  Oh god.

  She shook her head, her stomach cramping violently, protesting the reality that Cara’s murderer was the man she’d worked with side by side, never suspecting a fucking thing.

  The phone in her hand rang, and Glen shook his head. “Don’t answer that, Max.” He dragged the tip of the knife across the desk. “Put it down. Slowly.”

  She set it on the floor next to Burton, then stood, refusing to be in a position that physically gave Glen the edge.

  “You know, I was sure you had realized it was me that night, right up until you called to tell me what happened.” He cocked his head, as if remembering. “But they had roughed you up a little, probably couldn’t see so well with one of your eyes swollen up so badly.”

  Her lungs burned from the effort it took not to lash out at him. He had two weapons within easy reach and she didn’t have one. She needed to keep her head, needed to bury the fury at what he’d done to her friend.

  He gave her a quick once-over. “Snake wasn’t very rough with you today, was he? I’d say the bomb did more damage.” Something in his eyes brightened.

  “You set the explosive that killed Blackwater,” she guessed, and when he nodded, her mind made the next disturbing leap. “Jillian. It wasn’t some attempted hit on you gone wrong, was it? You killed her.”

  “Is this the part where you’re all shocked at what I’m capable of?” He moved toward her. “Jillian stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. Kind of like you.”

  She forced herself to hold her ground, instinctively knowing that some part of him wanted her to run so he could use his knife. “Then why am I still alive? You could have made a move the night we met at the diner.”

  “Had you gone to stay at my family’s cabin when I suggested it, you would have died months ago. But you always were stubborn. Then of course when the case and flash drive didn’t turn up, Blackwater became convinced you knew something, so I had to behave myself until we knew for sure.”

  Her gaze fell to the knife he tapped against his thigh.

  “And then when I was visiting your parents a couple weeks ago, checking in on them, they mentioned a woman named Sherri. She used to date your brother, apparently, and lived in Canada. They thought maybe they should see if she’d had heard from you. Seemed like a long shot, but what the hell.”

  “My parents trusted you. I trusted you.” Over and over again. They’d been friends. They’d bitched about work, laughed together. God, she’d mourned with him over Jillian’s death and it had all been a lie.

  “You know, your parents I understand. But you, Max? We worked side by side and you never saw or suspected anything. What kind of cop does that make you?”

  Anger ripped through her. “Go to hell.”

  Whatever Glen saw on her face seemed to excite him. “I always sort of liked you, even when you were being a pain in my ass by pursuing Blackwater.”

  “Why spend all that time covering up for him only to kill him?” She wanted to hope that Tess would call Lucas when Max didn’t answer her phone, but that wouldn’t guarantee he’d get back here before Glen decided to use his knife.

  And it only took one look in his eyes to know that he had no plan of letting her walk out of the room alive.

  “I was tired of dealing with his shit, and it just so happened that other people felt the same way.”

  “So you were paid to screw him over? Must be some big bucks in whoring yourself out like that.”

  His eyes narrowed, and she braced for his response, but he seemed to catch himself at the last moment. “Since you were the first to mention the weapon, I feel like I should at least offer you some control over your fate.”

  The phone rang again, and this time she saw Burton stir, his fingers brushing it.

  “If you tell me where the case is holding the device,” Glen began, “then I promise I won’t let you suffer.” He got in close, dragging the knife across her abdomen. “But I have to admit that I’m secretly hoping you don’t say a word.”

  “What’s on the flash drive?”

  “Names of just about everyone Blackwater has dealt with or paid off, and records of some of those transactions.”

  No wonder Blackwater had looked rattled. He must have suspected someone was about to retaliate for his screw up. “Including your name, right?”

  He grinned again. “There are people who will pay an obscene amount of money for the flash drive and the case, and frankly, I’m done with being a cop.”

  “You sell that information and you’ll make more enemies than you can out run in a lifetime. And if you don’t think the buyer would use the information on that flash drive to extort everyone else, painting you with one hell of a bulls-eye at the same time, then you’re clearly not the mastermind you think you are.”

  A flash of anger crossed his face, and he shoved her back a step.

  Max caught his wrist and twisted, wrenching his arm back as she pivoted to get behind him. He slashed back with his knife, catching her across the thigh.

  She stumbled backward, hitting the desk. With her gun still out of reach, she closed her fingers around the lamp on the corner of it and whirled, smashing it against his face.

  He dropped the knife, and when he doubled over, she drove her fist up under his chin, snapping his head back.

  “Bitch,” he snarled, lunging for her.

  Max was fast, but the weight of his body knocking into hers stole her breath even before they hit the ground. Kicking out, she nailed him in the chest, but he landed a blow of his own this time.

  She curled in on herself, protecting her abdomen from a second assault, but leaving her back vulnerable. Pain radiated up her spine from the kick, and she rolled away from him, but not fast enough to escape the lamp he brought down on her head.

  Lucas stayed close to the wall as he moved soundlessly up the stairs. Sounds of a struggle came from the room at the far end of the hall, and it was all he could do not to sprint toward it. A struggle was better than silence. She was alive and fighting him, fighting hard.

  Adrenaline and fear pounded through his veins, riding him so damn hard, he barely heard Eli start up the stairs behind him. They’d planned on each taking a floor, which turned out to be unnecessary when they heard voices coming from upstairs.

  He was halfway down the hall when everything went completely silent, but he didn’t slow down, didn’t let his mind latch on to any possibility of what that silence might mean.

  The door was ajar, and he kicked it open, immediately spotting them. Glen stood next to the desk, one arm wrapped around Max, using her as a shield, his gun at the base of her skull.

  She leaned heavily into Glen, visibly struggling to keep her gaze locked on Lucas.

  Without a clear headshot, he edged farther into the room, Eli right on his heels.

  “Drop them,” Glen ordered, tugging Max closer to him. “I don’t think I need to tell you how this goes down if you don’t.”

  “How much time do you think shooting Max will buy him?” Lucas asked Eli.

  “Five, maybe ten seconds and then you’ll be so far down his throat he won’t be able to breathe without choking on your gun.”
>
  Glen didn’t even blink at their exchange. “Do you know what happens to cops in jail? If I had to choose between that kind of hell and death, what do you think I’d go with? Put your guns on the fucking floor or Max dies.”

  “Don’t do this, Glen.” The sound of Max’s voice drove a spike through his chest, and Lucas prayed Glen was stupid enough to move another inch or so and give him the shot he was so desperate to take.

  Eli took a step away from him, seeking a better shot himself.

  Glen jammed his gun against Max’s head hard enough to make her cry out. “Put. Them. Down.”

  “Don’t.” Max shook her head. “Take a shot.”

  Lucas cursed, then held out his gun, slowly bending to set it on the floor. Looking just as frustrated, Eli followed.

  His friend had barely straightened when Glen shifted his aim and pulled the trigger. Eli stumbled back, hitting the wall behind him and sliding to the floor.

  Son of a bitch. Lucas managed only a step, before the gun was back on Max’s head.

  “I know where the flash drive is.”

  Both men’s attention snapped to Max. She sounded even more convincing than when she had lied to Blackwater.

  “I’ll take you to it,” she vowed, “but not if you shoot him.”

  Uncertainty blinked across Glen’s face. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

  “The flash drive was in her lip gloss.”

  Lucas kept his expression neutral. How in the hell did she know that? And why hadn’t she mentioned finding it to him before this?

  “And where is it now?” Glen demanded.

  Max scoffed as if the question were almost too stupid to answer. “First we get in your car and drive, then I tell you.”

  “Or I put another bullet in your boyfriend’s partner and see if that doesn’t change your mind.”

  “Tell him to go fuck himself, Max,” was Eli’s strained reply. Blood ran down Eli’s arm, pooling on the floor.

  Her gaze snapped to Lucas before she answered Glen. “And how would you know if I was telling the truth or just what you needed to hear?”

  Glen remained silent for a moment, then nodded for Lucas to move a little closer to Eli. “Over there.” He waited until Lucas was next to his friend, then inched Max forward, toward the door.