by Kat Martin
A soft sigh whispered out. She reached up and touched his cheek, felt the dark bristles along his jaw. “You were perfect.” This time it was exactly the right word.
TWENTY
Kenzie curled up next to Reese on the sofa beneath the lightweight throw he’d tossed over them. Pulling her close, he slid an arm around her and Kenzie leaned against him. They were quiet for a while.
“I need to tell you about what happened with Lee,” she finally said, braving a subject she dreaded. “I should have told you sooner, but I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”
Reese caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You could never disappoint me, Kenzie. You stayed because you felt you had to for Griff. I understand that. I don’t like that it happened. But Lee’s dead. There’s nothing either one of us can do about it now.”
There was no mistaking the hard note that had crept into his voice. It occurred to her that in one way or another, he would have made Lee pay.
“I should have left sooner,” she said. “There are places that help women in trouble. But more than a year passed between the first incident and the second. By then, I was sure it wouldn’t happen again. Still, that terrible first time made me realize how dependent I was on him. I started making plans just in case. Then one night he came home and I could see the anger in his face. He didn’t hit me that night, but if I had pushed him the least bit, he would have. I was grateful Griff was having a sleepover with one of his friends that night.”
“I saw the way Lee treated you at the hospital. Maybe he knew Griff wouldn’t be there so he could deal with you the way he wanted.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. After that, I knew I had to leave. A few weeks later, he came home early and caught me packing. That was the second time it happened. I moved out a week later.”
Reese released a slow breath. She realized he was working to summon his usually unshakable control. He leaned down and softly kissed her. “I’m sorry for what Lee did to you. But I’m glad you ended up working for me.”
She smiled at him. “So am I.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, Lee’s abusive behavior is just one more thing that makes me look guilty.”
Reese squeezed her hand and sat up straighter on the sofa. “I talked to Chase this afternoon.”
“About the tabloid article?”
“About the murder. Chase and Hawk both think Lee’s killer was a professional, someone good enough to murder him and not leave any evidence—or at least none he didn’t plant.”
She frowned. “You aren’t talking about a hit man of some kind?”
“It’s a possibility. Hawk thinks it could be a guy who works for the Louisiana mob. He’s looking for a connection.”
Unease filtered through her. “Lee’s brother, Daniel, is a Louisiana state senator.”
He nodded. “I remember you saying that.”
“As far as I know, Daniel’s a really good guy. I can’t believe he’d have anything to do with murder.” She had met Lee’s older brother and his wife only a couple of times, but she had liked them both.
“Lee said Daniel was as straight as an arrow. According to Lee, he’d always been his father’s favorite. In Arthur’s eyes, Lee could never quite measure up. I don’t think Daniel would associate with criminals.”
“In Louisiana, the mob is heavy into the casino business,” Reese said. “Was Lee a gambler? The riverboats in Shreveport are only a few hours away.”
“Lee didn’t gamble. He didn’t like to lose at anything. Same reason he didn’t play golf.”
“I’ll dig into it, see what I can find out.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressed a soft kiss into her palm. He rose from the sofa, magnificently naked. “In the meantime, let’s go to bed.”
She thought of the falcon tattoo on his back and a fresh rush of desire slipped through her. With regret, she shook her head. “It’s a school night. I have to get home.”
“You sure you can’t stay, at least for a while?” At the heat in those amazing blue eyes, her abdomen contracted. Her mouth dried up while the rest of her body went soft and damp.
“I guess I could stay...for a while.”
Reese leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. “We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.” Striding down the hall, he carried her into his bedroom. “In the meantime, we deserve a little time to forget.”
Reese made sure that happened.
* * *
The night was jet-black, no stars, no moon as Troy Graves turned into a deserted street in the warehouse district. Driving through the gate of an empty metal building surrounded by a chain-link fence, he braked his silver Porsche, slowed to a stop in the shadows, and turned off the engine.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been there. He’d met the same man in the same deserted spot before. He cracked open the car door, eased out, and started walking, his thousand-dollar Balenciaga sneakers crunching on the gravel.
Up ahead, he could just make out the man’s shadowy figure, and rage burned through him. Reaching into the pocket of his windbreaker, he wrapped his fingers around the ivory grip of his Glock 19 semiauto. The gun felt good in his hand.
He’d inherited the weapon from his dad, just like the power he held as half owner of Black Sand Oil and Gas. His father had never fired the weapon, but Troy had. You never knew when you might need to protect yourself.
Just like tonight.
The shadowy figure came into focus as the man came closer. “You bring the money?”
His jaw tightened. “You bring the recording?”
“I said I would, didn’t I? You get the flash drive, I get the cash, and no one’s the wiser.”
“You were well paid for what you did. Now you expect to get paid again, just to keep your mouth shut.”
In the thin rays of moonlight shifting through the clouds, Troy saw the man shrug.
“Things heated up. I had to leave town, start over somewhere else. That takes money, more than you paid me the first time.”
“How do I know the conversation we had hasn’t been copied onto more than one flash drive?”
Another shrug. “Guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take.”
“Put the flash drive on the ground and back away.”
The man set the flash drive on the asphalt. “Now the money,” he said.
Troy pulled the pistol out of his pocket. “Sorry, I don’t think so.” They were standing about ten feet apart, the perfect kill zone, even for a guy with his lack of experience.
“What the hell?” The clouds parted and more light streamed down, illuminating the white circles of the man’s dark eyes.
“You shouldn’t have come to Dallas,” Troy said. “You should have stayed wherever the hell you went.” Troy pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. The guy hit the ground before the shots finished echoing off the metal walls of the buildings.
In seconds he had the flash drive in hand and was driving his car back through the gate. The night closed around him as he continued along the roadway back to the city. He wondered how long it would take before the man’s body was found. It didn’t matter. There was no way to connect him to any of this.
Troy smiled. Maybe he’d stop by Heather’s place, celebrate a little. Heather was a good piece of ass, and after the way he’d handled things tonight, he deserved a reward. Troy stepped on the gas.
TWENTY-ONE
There was a shift in the mood at the office when Reese walked in the next morning a few minutes later than usual after so little sleep last night. Stepping out of the executive-floor elevator, he couldn’t stop a faint smile as he thought of Kenzie.
They were good together in bed, their sexual appetites, likes, and dislikes pretty much the same. It was one more reason they seemed to fit.
“Good morning, Louise.” He paused nex
t to her desk. “You remember Kenzie won’t be in today. She’s going to her ex-husband’s funeral.”
“I know. I feel sorry for Griff. Kenzie told me he’s taking it pretty hard.” The older, gray-haired woman was an asset to the company. She was reliable, did her job well, and never complained.
“I guess they weren’t very close,” he said. “But your dad’s your dad. You only get one.”
“I don’t know about that,” Louise disagreed. “My dad ran out on us when I was a baby. The man who adopted me? He’s the best father I ever could have wanted.”
Reese’s gaze held hers for several seconds. Was there a message in those words? Reese thought of Griff. He was a great kid. A son any man would be proud of.
“I’ll be attending the funeral myself,” Reese said. “You’ll have to cover for both of us.”
“No problem. Anything special you need me to do?”
“Not that I can think of at the moment. I’ll let you know before I leave.” He continued walking, catching sideways glances from several employees as he strode toward his office door. The tabloid article, he thought, cursing the bastards who had written it and the insinuations it made.
Turning around, he walked back to Louise’s desk. “If anyone wants to know, the answer is yes. I’m seeing Kenzie on a social basis. It’s not a secret. We’re both adults, both single. She isn’t quitting her job and I don’t expect her to. Anyone who has something to say about it can say it directly to me.”
Louise’s eyes went saucer-round. She blinked, then she smiled. “It’s about time you two got together.”
Some of the anger drained out of him. At least one person was on their side. “Thanks, Louise. I know Kenzie will appreciate your support.”
Louise just nodded and Reese continued walking. Now that it was out in the open, somehow he felt better. He wasn’t sure Kenzie would feel the same.
Sitting behind his desk, he took a look at his schedule, then picked up the phone. His first call went to Tabby.
“Morning, chief,” she said. “Let me guess. You need info on a Louisiana state senator named Daniel Haines, brother of the late Lee Haines.”
“That’s right. How did you know?”
“Chase called me last night.”
That was his brother the detective. Always one step ahead. “You got anything yet?”
“Only the stuff at the top. So far it looks like Daniel Haines is the real deal. A solid citizen. One of the good guys. Of course, that could just be an illusion created by his staff. I’m just getting started. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Thanks, Tab.” It was still early. He worked all morning, through the lunch hour, then went down to the parking garage, where Reggie picked him up for the ride to the Sparkman-Hillcrest cemetery in north Dallas, the place Lee Haines’s funeral service was being held.
He timed it to come in late, sit in a pew in the back of the chapel. Lee had been a big investor in the real estate market. He knew a lot of people in Dallas and many of them were there.
Reese scanned the room for Kenzie. She was sitting between her grandmother and Griff in the front pew of the chapel. Arthur Haines sat in the front pew on the other side of the aisle. Reese recognized Arthur’s handsome blond son, Daniel, and Daniel’s matching-bookend pretty blonde wife from photos he’d found on the internet that morning. A dark-haired woman dressed in black sat to Arthur’s left, occasionally lifting her veil to dab tears from her eyes.
The service went longer than he’d expected, or maybe it just felt that way to him. Afterward the crowd adjourned to attend the graveside service to follow.
Reese didn’t plan to go. He just wanted Griff and Kenzie to know he was there for them if they needed him. He waited on the chapel steps for them to appear, started toward them when the woman in black stopped in front of Kenzie, blocking her way.
“What are you doing here?” the woman demanded. “After what you did, you have no right to be here.”
“I’m sorry,” Kenzie said. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Lee’s fiancée, Delia Parr. Believe me, I know who you are. The police came to see me. They told me about the gun that killed Lee—your gun. You murdered him! You were afraid he’d get custody of his son, so you killed him!”
“Mom, what does she mean?”
Kenzie’s arm went protectively around Griff’s shoulders. “She’s just upset.” Kenzie turned and started leading her son away. Reese stepped in front of the woman so she couldn’t follow and his eyes met Kenzie’s for an instant.
“Go on,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.”
Kenzie gave him a look of such gratitude his chest went tight. She turned and continued walking, leading Griff and her grandmother on down the steps.
“Get out of my way.” Delia tried to brush past him, but Reese stood firm.
“Kenzie had nothing to do with Lee’s murder. The police are investigating. They’ll find the man who killed him. You need to let them do their job.”
“Reese is right, Delia.” Arthur Haines’s voice rang from beside him. “This is not the time or place for wild accusations.” He was as tall as Reese, silver-haired, with an appearance of dignified propriety, an illusion that had worked well for him over the years.
But Arthur Haines was a shrewd and cunning businessman with few moral ethics. He would do whatever it took to make money.
After his partner, William Graves, had died and Bill’s son, Troy, had inherited half the company, Reese had begun to hear rumors that the business was in trouble. He frowned as a thought occurred, jotting a mental note to see if Black Sand Oil and Gas had made any attempts to purchase the Poseidon platform. Was it possible they had some connection to the problems with the rig?
Delia walked away in a huff, her snug black dress shifting back and forth over a round behind she was clearly proud of. Arthur remained, his gaze following Kenzie and his grandson across the wide expanse of manicured lawn.
“So it’s true,” Arthur said, his attention returning to Reese. “You and my ex-daughter-in-law are involved? Delia mentioned she saw your photos on the front page of the newspaper at the grocery store. I didn’t believe it at the time.”
“We’re both single. We’re seeing each other—not that it’s any of your business.”
“Tsk-tsk, my friend. It’s not exactly appropriate to be dating one of your employees. Not in your position.”
It was true. He should have stayed away from Kenzie. For six months, he’d done his best, then, like a wrecking ball swinging out of control, he couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer. He wasn’t sorry. Kenzie was worth the risk. “I’m willing to take my chances.”
Arthur just smiled.
Reese continued on down the steps, crossing the lawn beneath a cloudy sky that signaled rain, deciding he would go to the graveside service after all. He’d stay at the back of the crowd, but if anyone gave Kenzie trouble, he would be there for her.
From now on, that was the way it was going to be.
* * *
It was early evening, a light rain beginning to fall. It was still hot in mid-September, the evenings warm and muggy.
Arthur sat in his favorite leather chair in front of the TV in his study, a plate of chicken casserole unfinished on the coffee table. His housekeeper had left for the day. Betty would be back in the morning to tidy things up and fix his meals, more reliable than his dead ex-wife ever had been.
And unlike Judith, who had constantly poked her nose into his business, Betty knew her place, which meant he rarely saw her. If she’d been thirty years younger and willing to service him once in a while, she would have been perfect. On another day, Arthur might have smiled at his own humor.
But today he had buried his youngest son. He didn’t have much to smile about.
A noise reached him from somewhere in the house. A jolt of fear hit him as he recog
nized the sound of breaking glass. Arthur shot to his feet as two men walked into the study, one big and wide, a pleasant face if not for the scowl digging lines into his forehead. The other man was short but muscular, with curly black hair and dark eyes a little too close together.
“What are you doing in my house? Get out this instant!”
“Put your shoes back on, Mr. Haines,” the bigger man said calmly. “You’re going for a ride.”
“A ride? What are you talking about?”
“Mr. DeMarco wants to see you. You need to come with us.”
When Arthur started to shake his head, the short guy with the attitude reached beneath his windbreaker and pulled out a heavy black pistol. “You’re going—with or without your shoes.”
Trying to hide his fear, Arthur sat back down and did as he was told. “You can put the gun away. You’ve made your point.”
Their car sat out front, an innocuous four-door brown sedan. The big guy got in behind the wheel and the short guy got in back with Arthur. He would have preferred the other way around.
“It’s almost three hours to Shreveport,” the big man said, looking back over his shoulder. “Maybe you can catch a nap.”
Arthur said nothing. Sleeping was the last thing on his mind. He owed Sawyer DeMarco several million dollars. At the moment he had no way to pay him.
Still, after the first two uncomfortable hours, he began to nod off, his head slumping down on his chest. The last thing he remembered was the short man calling the big man Nolan. The next thing he knew, pain shot through him as the short guy with the curly black hair elbowed him in the ribs.
“We’re here,” the short guy said. Nolan opened the rear car door and Arthur and the short man got out. They were parked beneath a green-striped awning in front of a separate entrance into the Pot-of-Gold Resort Casino, the flagship of DeMarco’s gambling domain.
In Louisiana, gaming was allowed only on riverboats, which were permanently docked on the water, in this case the muddy Red River that slugged through Shreveport heading south.
