by Lisa Childs
His stomach churned again, but he wasn’t upset about Luther. “What about Javier?”
Her brother had loved her so much. All he’d wanted was her respect again, to make it up to her for everything she’d done for him his entire life.
A life that Luther Mills had cut too short.
“He’s dead,” she said. “And Luther’s going to prison will not bring him back. Nothing will.” She walked away from Clint then and climbed the stairs to the loft as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
And maybe she did. Or she had. But refusing to testify should have taken off that weight, if she had been afraid for her life. If she truly believed not testifying was the right thing...
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Why the hell had she changed her mind? He was tempted to go meet with Luther himself—to find out what threat Luther had used that had scared her so much that she wasn’t even the woman Clint had thought she was.
But maybe he and her brother had been wrong about her all along.
Maybe she wasn’t the strong, determined woman he and Javier had thought she was. Maybe Rosie was just like most everyone else who lived in the area of River City that Luther had claimed as his: maybe she was one of his crew.
* * *
Woodrow met Parker at the door to his office and clasped his shoulders before pulling him into a quick hug. When he stepped back, Parker stared at him in surprise. Woodrow wasn’t usually a demonstrative person, so he must have shocked his stepson.
“Your mother’s wearing off on me,” he told Parker. Penny was innately affectionate.
The younger man smiled with love for his mother. “She has that effect on people.”
“She had me worried,” Woodrow admitted. Those damn premonitions of hers. “I was thinking I might have been wrong to hire you.”
Parker groaned. “So you heard about the witness...”
That wasn’t what he’d been referring to, but a weary sigh slipped through his lips. And he nodded.
“Jocelyn Gerber called you,” Parker guessed. Correctly.
Woodrow nodded again and added, “Ms. Gerber is quite upset.” Which was an understatement.
“She’s blaming the Payne Protection Agency,” Parker said.
“She blamed me,” Woodrow said.
Parker’s mouth slid into a lopsided grin. “For hiring us.”
That had been the gist of it. But it was also because he had a leak in his department. She was determined to overlook the one that had to be in hers, though.
Of course, it wasn’t really her department. She wasn’t the district attorney, even though she’d been acting like it since Amber Kozminski was out on her maternity leave. She and her husband, Logan Payne’s brother-in-law and bodyguard, Milek Kozminski, had just had their second child, a baby girl.
“I’m sorry for letting you down,” Parker said, and he looked like a son who’d disappointed his father.
But none of the Paynes was a disappointment.
“You and your team have kept the principals alive.” Woodrow was learning protection language since marrying into a family of bodyguards. “And since Ms. Mendez is alive, there is always a chance she will change her mind about testifying.”
Parker released a ragged sigh. “True. But she has to stay alive, and I’m not sure she’ll agree to stay in protection since she’s not testifying.”
The younger man looked upset, and it probably wasn’t about the attempt on his life that he had narrowly escaped. Parker had survived many, many more attempts than that.
“What is it?” Woodrow asked.
Parker shook his head. “I’m wondering if I made a big mistake.”
“How’s that?”
“When I matched up bodyguard to principal...” Parker pushed one of his hands through his thick black hair. “Clint warned me that she wouldn’t want him.”
“And she told the two of us the same thing,” Woodrow remembered.
“I just didn’t think she’d go to this extreme to get rid of him,” Parker said with another ragged sigh.
“It seemed as though you’d changed her mind...with what you said about her brother.”
“I thought she had changed her mind about Clint,” Parker said. He snorted with self-derision. “I actually thought she was starting to care about him. But he was probably right—she’ll never be able to forgive him for her brother becoming an informant.”
“I’m not so sure,” Woodrow said. When ADA Gerber had called him, he’d had a thought about Ms. Mendez’s reason for backing out of testifying against Luther Mills. Maybe it was because she had forgiven Clint. “Quarters is the one who’s gotten hurt protecting her.”
And Ms. Mendez didn’t seem like the type of person who cared just about herself. If she had been the only one in danger, he doubted she would have changed her mind about testifying against her brother’s killer.
Parker’s blue eyes narrowed as he considered what Woodrow had said.
“Ms. Gerber is having the recording of their visit sent to her office,” Woodrow also informed him. So they would know soon enough what had motivated Rosie Mendez’s change of heart. And maybe that was exactly what it was.
A change of heart regarding her bodyguard.
Parker snorted again. “Does Jocelyn Gerber actually believe Luther might have said something incriminating?”
“I think she’s more interested in what Ms. Mendez had to say, in finding out the reason for her visit.” But Woodrow, who was still a newlywed, had a feeling he already knew what that reason was.
Or rather who: Clint Quarters.
Chapter 22
Luther was right. All Clint cared about was putting him behind bars for the rest of his life. He didn’t care about her. He’d only been protecting her because she was the witness, because she was the one who could finally give him what he wanted, what he’d sacrificed so much to get: a personal life, even her brother...
Her testimony would have gotten the conviction against Luther Mills that Clint had wanted since his cousin had died. Maybe Jocelyn Gerber could get that conviction without Rosie’s testimony.
She hoped like hell that was truly the case. Or she would have sacrificed justice for her brother for the safety of a man who didn’t even care about her.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. Rosie was not one who gave in to tears. All crying accomplished was puffy eyes and a red nose. She didn’t need either of those.
And she didn’t need Clint Quarters. Thanks to her meeting with Luther, she didn’t need him to protect her anymore. And she certainly didn’t need him to love her.
Rosie had gotten along just fine without Clint Quarters. Hell, she’d been better. He’d brought nothing but pain to her life.
She glanced at the bed in the loft area of the condo and begrudgingly had to admit that he hadn’t brought her just pain. He’d also brought her more pleasure than she’d ever experienced before.
But that was just sex, which had probably been heightened in intensity because of all the danger they’d been in. Since she’d never felt anything like that before, she must have confused it with love.
But she couldn’t actually love Clint Quarters—not after she’d spent so much time hating him.
Their feelings seemed to have reversed now. He’d looked like he’d hated her—or at least been totally disgusted with her—when she’d refused to testify. He didn’t understand that she’d done it for him.
And she didn’t want him to know. She felt like a fool for falling for him. Is that what happened to bodyguards? Did the person they were protecting fall for them? Rosie must have just mistaken gratitude for love.
She would not make that mistake again. She would not have any reason to be grateful to Clint anymore.
She didn’t need his protection. What s
he needed was to get away from him. Far away.
So that she didn’t ache for him anymore. So that she didn’t want him... He hadn’t come upstairs with her. As disgusted as he’d been with her, he clearly did not want her anymore. And that was good.
She didn’t want him, either. Tears stung her eyes again, but she fought them back. She was not going to cry.
No. She was going to get the hell out of there. But how?
Not only was Clint inside but there were also bodyguards outside. They were looking for people trying to get in, though—not out. She and Clint had managed to slip past them easily enough when they’d gone to the jail earlier.
She could manage to do that again. Without Clint.
She would have to manage without him now.
She heard the deep rumble of his voice. He must have been on his cell phone because she hadn’t heard anyone else come into the condo.
She crept down the stairs from the loft bedroom. There was just a small landing between those steps and the ones leading down to the garage. If she could cross over that landing without Clint noticing her...
She had a chance of escaping him.
As she descended the last step, she saw him. He didn’t see her, though. His back was to her as he stood at the window, looking down on the street below. The cell phone was pressed to his ear.
She tensed, worried that he might see her reflection in the glass. The sun was shining brightly as it began to descend over Lake Michigan. It was a beautiful sunset. One she wished she could have shared with him.
But she couldn’t share anything with him now. She needed to get away from him before she cast aside her pride and begged for him to understand. She hurried over the landing before he turned—before he saw her.
She crept down that last flight, flinching at the soft creak of each step beneath her weight. Finally she reached the last one, the step onto the cement floor of the garage. There was a service door at the back of it. She wasn’t certain where it opened—onto an alley or a yard.
Even if she was out of his presence, could she escape him? She’d thought of him so often since Javier’s death, but she’d been angry then.
She wasn’t angry anymore.
She was just...
Devastated. Devastated that Luther was right. All Clint wanted was him behind bars—whatever the cost. Javier’s life. Hers...
His. He obviously didn’t care.
She cared. No matter how much she wished she didn’t. She cared. At least Clint would be safe. She carefully pushed open the service door onto an alley. Someone stood at one end of it, his hand near his holster.
She turned the other way. If there was a guard there, she didn’t see him or her. So sticking close to the shadows of the buildings lining both sides of the alley, she hurried out onto the street.
She had her purse and enough money in her savings to get far away from River City. But before she went anywhere, there was someone she needed to tell goodbye.
* * *
“It doesn’t make sense,” Clint told Landon. And that was what bothered him most. Sure, he’d considered, for a few moments when fury had gripped him, that she could be part of Luther’s crew. But he knew better.
Javier had become an informant for Clint because he’d felt so bad about selling drugs for the guy after all the years his sister had fought to keep him away from Luther. She wouldn’t have done that if she’d been part of the crew herself.
No. Rosie had fought hard to have a better life for herself and her younger brother. So why the hell would she stop fighting now?
“So tell me what Luther said to her,” Clint implored. Landon had to have been present when Jocelyn Gerber played the recorded conversation.
Landon’s ragged sigh rattled the cell phone. “Somebody at the jail must have messed with the tape. It had been wiped clean.”
Clint cursed. Was there no one Luther couldn’t get to? Clint would have thought that person was Rosie—until now—until she’d backed out of testifying.
“I know he has a cell phone,” Clint said. He’d called Luther from that kid’s phone. “A guard must have smuggled that to him.”
“Jocelyn’s asking a judge to subpoena the bank records of every corrections officer at the jail.” Landon sounded impressed, which surprised the hell out of Clint. Usually he sounded disgusted by the ambitious but ineffectual assistant district attorney.
“Even if she can prove Luther bribed them, that’s petty stuff,” Clint said. “He needs to get convicted of Javier’s murder.” Or the poor kid would have died for nothing.
How could his sister, the person who had sworn she loved him most, allow that to happen?
He shook his head, unable to believe that she would not testify against his killer.
“Talk to her,” Landon urged him.
“I tried.”
“Did you talk or yell?” his friend asked. From living with Clint, he knew him well. Clint didn’t often get angry, but when he did, he wasn’t always as diplomatic as he should be. He certainly hadn’t been diplomatic with Rosie.
“Oh, hell,” he murmured.
And Landon chuckled. “Yeah, try again. And do it nicely this time.”
“I’ve tried to be nice to Rosie Mendez before,” Clint reminded him. “It doesn’t have any effect on her.”
“You getting hurt certainly did,” Landon said. “She was concerned about you.”
“That’s because she’s a nurse,” Clint said. “It’s just part of who she is.”
Landon snorted. “Yeah, right. And the reason you’ve been so willing to risk your life for hers is just because you’re a bodyguard. C’mon, Clint, you’re not fooling anyone.”
Least of all his best friend. But apparently, he had fooled Rosie. She thought all he cared about was busting Luther Mills. She didn’t know that he cared about her, too.
Too much.
Clint sighed now and murmured, “Damn you.”
Landon chuckled as he disconnected their call. He knew he’d made his point.
Clint pocketed his cell and moved toward the stairwell. He climbed the steps to the loft. But when he reached the top floor, he didn’t see her. She wasn’t lying on the bed. She must have not even sat on it because it was neatly made. She wasn’t on the chaise, either. And the bathroom door stood open, nobody inside.
“Rosie!” he called out.
How had she slipped past him?
He hurried down the stairs, missing a few steps in his haste. She wasn’t on the main level. He would have seen her. So he continued down to the garage. The SUV was parked inside yet. If she’d opened the overhead door, he would have heard the motor of the opener. He wished she’d tried to take it. But obviously she’d slipped out the service door; it wasn’t closed completely. He pushed it open and hurried out into the alley. But he didn’t get far before he heard a gun cock.
He froze.
It could have been one of the other bodyguards. Or it could have been one of Luther’s crew cocking that weapon. And if Luther’s crew had found the condo, then Rosie had run right out to them.
And that was Clint’s fault. If he’d reacted better to her decision not to testify...
Maybe if he had been more understanding and less judgmental...
Maybe she wouldn’t have run away from him. Unless that had been her reason for refusing to testify—so she wouldn’t have to have a bodyguard anymore.
But even though she’d told Luther she wouldn’t testify, Clint doubted the killer had taken back the hit he’d put out on her.
Luther Mills would still want her dead, so that there was no chance that Rosie could ever change her mind about testifying against him.
But now, with a gun in his back, Clint couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t even protect himself.
Luther reached for the cell vibrating in the pocket of h
is jail jumpsuit. Damn, he couldn’t wait until he got back in his own clothes. And that had to be happening soon.
He’d told his lawyer that the prosecution was about to lose their star witness. His lawyer had gotten nervous, hadn’t wanted anything to do with murder. Coward.
Luther had assured him his hands would stay clean. As clean as they were when the sleazeball only represented the richest clients. And as Luther knew, it wasn’t easy to get rich within the law.
He’d had to break it.
Just like he’d had to break his promise to Rosie. He hadn’t removed the hit on Clint. Or on her.
“Yeah,” he answered his phone.
“We found the latest safe house.”
He grinned. It helped having a source with knowledge of the Payne Protection Agency. “That’s good.”
“Even better...she slipped out by herself.”
Clint Quarters let her out of his sight? He had probably been furious when she’d said she wasn’t going to testify. Even as hot as Rosie was, she would never be as important to Clint as getting a conviction against him. By now she had to know she’d fallen for the wrong man.
That must have been why she’d slipped away from him.
Luther chuckled. “Did you take care of her?”
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted us to do now,” the caller replied.
Luther heard the reluctance in the man’s voice, and he didn’t like it. Obviously, he’d hired another coward. And Luther didn’t suffer cowards any more than he did traitors.
“I paid you to do a job,” he said. “You’re not getting any more money until that job is done.”
“I followed her,” the caller admitted.
“Then finish her,” Luther said.
Rosie Mendez had to die, not just so that she couldn’t testify against him. She had to die because she’d done the unforgivable: she’d fallen in love with Clint Quarters.
Chapter 23
She always had so much trouble finding his marker. The stone was so small that it didn’t stick up above the grass. But she’d walked to his grave so many times that she should have known where it was even without the marker.
