Bound By Temptation (14 page)

Sometimes being right fucking sucked.

“You ready?” he asked her, forcing calm into his voice.

Neither Chris or Lyndon had returned from work, but he knew from talking to Chris that she’d called in sick at the hospital and gone back to bed after dosing and feeding her dog. From the look of her, the extra sleep hadn’t helped.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes and picked up a plastic bag on the counter. From the clink as it rolled against the tile, it must contain the insulin vial. After settling the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she gingerly headed for the patio door, Cuddles glued to her side. The terrier mix nailed him with a vicious glower as she passed, pulling her lips back in a silent snarl. Lucas didn’t blame her. If he could, he’d scowl at himself too and then kick his own ass.

“You should consider staying another night,” he said quietly, fighting to keep the roughness from his voice. The thought of her returning home, alone—unprotected—it clawed at him, left bloody gouges.

She stopped to stare at him, her brown eyes distant and dull. “You got the guys after me, right? They’re dead or in jail?” She didn’t wait for his reluctant nod. “Then it’s safe to return home. I can’t stay here forever.”

Maybe not forever. But she could stay for a couple of days, at least until he got used to the thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again. Grimacing, he rubbed his tight chest, swore beneath his breath and followed her to the sliding door.

She stumbled slightly as they stepped onto the patio.

Dammit. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d known she was hurting. He should have driven, rather than walked over.

“Hold on. I’ll get the Jeep.”

“It’s okay.” She shot him a quick sidewise look. Whatever she saw brought a quiet, almost sad smile. “Honestly, the walk will do me good. I’m stiff more than sore, the exercise will limber me up.”

Without looking at him again, she struck out for his condo. Silence built, throbbing between them as they walked, side by side, across the courtyard. Her stride didn’t falter until they got close enough to see the yellow crime scene tape barring entrance to his condo’s sliding glass door.

“How long before the police will let you back in?” Emma stopped to stare.

“Not long,” Lucas assured her, fudging a bit on the truth.

Rio had told him the scene would be released once the investigation was complete. How long that would take was a big question mark. Although everyone had left for the day, he suspected at least the crime scene techs would be back.

“How much trouble did you get into?” Worry flooded her face.

The knot in his gut twisted tighter. Christ, he hated seeing that look on her face.

“None.”

She directed a look of disbelief at him. “A man died in your living room and the police didn’t say anything?”

He shrugged. “The detectives asked a lot of questions. But there’s clear evidence they broke into the condo, clear evidence we didn’t fire our weapons, and ballistics will prove that the shot that killed Ned Bristol came from his own man’s gun.”

She frowned as though she didn’t believe him, but followed him past the patio, around the corner, and out to the parking lot. The silence continued as they drove across town to her house.

“Samantha’s going to meet us at her shop around five,” she eventually said in an absent voice. “She gave me the address and it’s not far from my house. We can head there after I drop off the insulin. It will be pretty close to five by then.”

Lucas simply nodded. It would have been helpful to get a look at the loveseat earlier, but Emma’s friend had lost her phone, so hadn’t received Emma’s messages. By the time Emma reached her, a good chunk of the day had passed, and Samantha was headed into a meeting—one she apparently couldn’t miss.

By the time he pulled up in front of Emma’s house, the silence between them had built to a shrill crescendo. She thrust open the passenger door and stiffly climbed out of the Jeep before he’d even turned off the engine. Cuddles leapt out after her.

Lucas joined the pair on the sidewalk and stopped to complete a slow, thorough scan of the neighborhood. No vans or SUVs with tinted windows lurking down the street. Just a couple of sedans parked alongside the road, in front of houses. He studied a tiny, white haired woman shuffling down the sidewalk across the street with a towel covered bread pan in her hands.

“How ‘bout you give me the insulin and your keys and I save you a trek up those stairs?” Lucas said, glancing up the steep path to her front porch.

She must have been stiffer than she’d let on, because she handed over the requested items with no hesitation. He jogged up the slope to her porch, took the steps two at a time, and slipped the key into the front door’s lock. It stuck halfway in. Swearing, he jiggled the hell out of it, but it still took a good minute before the damn thing slipped fully into its housing.

Mentally, he made a note to change out her locks.

He’d just slipped the insulin bottle into the top shelf of the refrigerator door when his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID—Rio.

“Yeah?” he asked as he shut the fridge door.

“We ID’d your dead guy. Edward Bristol. He was released last week from Avenal.”

Nothing new there. The captive he’d interrogated had said as much.

Deep, angry barking broke out on the street below. His heart warping into his throat, Lucas jerked around to look out the open, living room window. The old lady from across the street was talking to Emma, her cake pan still in hand. Cuddles was bouncing up and down on her front feet, barking like crazy.

Emma had been right about one thing: Cuddles was a great watchdog. Too bad she barked at everything.

“What did Bristol get sent up for?” Lucas turned away from the window.

“Drugs.” Rio’s voice sharpened. “But get this. Ballistics came back on the Carmichael murder. The same gun was used in a jewelry store robbery four years ago where a security guard was killed. The perp made off with half a million in diamonds. No suspects and the diamonds were never recovered.”

Son of a bitch—half a million in diamonds?

“How much you want to bet Bristol’s gun is a match for both murders? I guess we know what’s in the loveseat,” Lucas said dryly.

“Not necessarily. It could be a coincidence. The jewel thief could have dumped the gun after killing the guard and Bristol ended up with it. He got sent up for drugs. It’s just as likely he was after drugs.”

Lucas shrugged. Diamonds or drugs. The bastard wouldn’t be after either in his current condition.

“We’re about to head to Samantha’s storage shed,” Lucas said, wincing as Cuddles’s barking escalated to wild baying. That dog was going to make Emma the most unpopular person in her neighborhood if she kept that up.

He turned to glance out the window. Emma was gone.

What the fuck?

It took seconds to reach the door and throw it open. A cake pan lay on the sidewalk below, partially covered by a red towel.

Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

Terror caught his breath and slid through him in an icy, burning rush. His heart skipped a beat and then slammed into hyper drive.

Vaguely, through the ringing his ears, he heard Rio’s voice droning on.

An urgent howl clawed at the air. Lucas bolted onto the porch in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of Cuddles charging after a blue, battered sedan.

And then the car took the corner. Cuddles followed and they both disappeared from sight.

E
mma glanced
in the rearview mirror, her fingers clenching around the steering wheel as Cuddles barreled around the street corner. The dog was running so fast her claws scrabbled for purchase. Emma flinched, holding her breath as Cuddles lost her grip on the pavement and almost slid beneath an oncoming car. If only the crazy old woman in the passenger seat had allowed the animal into the sedan with them, instead of kicking her away.

She shot a quick glance at the diminutive woman sitting next to her. Good lord, the woman wasn’t much bigger than a sparrow. Her head barely reached the dashboard. But then she didn’t need height or heft to be dangerous. All she needed was that big, black gun currently pressed against Emma’s side.

Unbelievable.

A wave of disbelief swept through her. For a second the street wavered in front of her straining eyes. Who would guess such a tiny, soft faced, silver haired old woman was into kidnapping and animal abuse? She sure hadn’t. In fact, she’d assumed the woman was a new neighbor out to introduce herself. She’d even been embarrassed about Cuddles’s immediate and violent reaction to her. Good lord, she’d apologized repeatedly for her dog’s terrible behavior right up until the old bat had whipped the towel off the bread pan and pulled out a huge revolver.

If they survived this, she would never discount her dog’s instinctive negative reaction to someone again.

She checked out the rearview mirror and choked back a scream as an SUV turned directly in front of Cuddles’s straining body. She didn’t start breathing again until the SUV cleared her rearview mirror and the dog came back into view. Without looking at the woman beside her, she eased off the gas pedal.

“Why are you doing this?” Emma asked, her voice hoarse, half of her attention on the woman beside her and the other half on the dog desperately trying to catch up to them.

“Why, for the diamonds, of course,” the crazy old bat said, lifting her free hand to pat her fluff of silver hair. “Since you murdered my sweet Neddy, I’m the only one left to retrieve them.”

Diamonds… that’s what’s in the loveseat?

“I didn’t kill, anyone,” Emma protested, sweat slicking her spine as the gun twitched against her side.

With her small frame and fragile bones, the old woman should be easy to overpower—if she ever pulled that gun from Emma’s side. It didn’t take much strength to pull a trigger.

She checked out the rearview mirror. Cuddles was actually gaining on them. Holding her breath, she eased up on the accelerator a bit more. What was she supposed to do if the dog caught up with them? Open the door and let her jump in? The inside of the vehicle might be as dangerous as the street.

“Well, your beau, then.”

Emma swallowed hard, shooting her passenger a quick glance.

The woman’s smooth, porcelain fine forehead crinkled. “Why do you keep looking in the mirror?”

Don’t antagonize her. Bond with her. Cater to her. It will make it harder for her to kill you.

“My dog’s following us,” Emma admitted, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel until her knuckles were as white as the bandages circling her hands. “I’m sorry about Ned, was he your son? But Lucas didn’t kill him. One of the men Ned hired to kidnap me killed him. Lucas had nothing to do with his death.”

Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either. Lucas had set a trap and Ned wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t walked into it.

“My grandson,” the woman corrected, her voice testy. “He was a good boy. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

A good boy?

Were they talking about the same man? The monster who’d murdered poor Mr. Carmichael, and hired nasty, dead-eyed men to kidnap her?

Keep her talking. Keep her occupied. So far she hasn’t noticed we’re barely going ten miles an hour.

“So if the diamonds are in the loveseat, how did the loveseat end up at Carmichaels?”

She checked on Cuddles through the side mirror this time. The dog, whose tongue was hanging out so far it was almost dragging on the pavement, was right on her bumper.
Oh god.
If the traffic didn’t kill the poor dog, this damn car chase would.

“I didn’t know he’d hid diamonds in the old thing, now did I?” the old woman said, her voice more quarrelsome than ever. She turned her head in a quick, bird-like motion and glared. “Neddy forgot to tell me. And boy did he ever pitch a hissy fit when he found out I’d sold it.” She shifted in the passenger seat and the gun dug harder into Emma’s side. “Well, they belong to me now, and if your beau wants to get you back alive, he’ll hand them over.”

Emma relaxed slightly. Maybe the extra pressure against her ribs was unintentional. “So you’re not going to kill me?”

The woman cocked her head, her expression almost affronted. “Of course not, dear. I’m not a monster.”

Thank God.

“Of course that murderer of yours is a different matter entirely.”

Uh….

“Murderer?”

“That monster who butchered my Neddy.”

Butchered?

Somehow Emma didn’t think she meant the man Ned had hired. The man who’d actually killed him.

“I told you,” Emma said again, raising her voice for emphasis. “Lucas didn’t kill your grandson. Someone else did. I believe it was an accident.”

“That’s not what the police told me when they showed up at my door,” the woman snapped, a stony expression descending on her face.

“Then they told you wrong.”

“Of course you’d defend him. You’re doubtlessly fornicating with him—”

Not as much as I’d like to.

“I should just go ahead and kill you too.”

Too? Had she just said too?

Chills coursed down her arms, rolled about in her stomach. Had the crazy old bat just admitted she was going to kill Lucas?

* * *

L
ucas descended
the stairs in one leap and raced for his Jeep, milking every modicum of speed he could from his shaking legs.

Move. Move. Move.

It took too damn long to pull his keys from his pocket, unlock the Renegade, and dive into the driver’s seat. Even longer to crank the engine and swing the Jeep around, aiming it toward the corner Cuddles had disappeared around. He gunned it, crushing the accelerator with his boot.

The dog had to be chasing Emma. Had to be.

He’d never been one for praying. Hell, he couldn’t remember
ever
praying. But he prayed now. Prayed like a motherfucker. Offered every deal he could think of, including his own life, if he could just get Emma back. Alive. In one piece.

Who the fuck had taken her? That tiny old woman? She must have been seventy, at least. Why the hell would an old lady want Emma?

He took the corner on two tires, fought the wheel, brought the Jeep back down to the pavement and gunned it again.

No sign of Cuddles.

No sign of the dented rear fender of a blue sedan.

Son of a bitch.

The pressure in his chest increased. Became unbearable. Suffocating. Distantly he heard an urgent, tinny voice and realized his phone was on the passenger seat. He must have tossed it there when he dived inside the car. He picked it up, chanced a quick glance at the screen.

Thank Christ, he was still connected to Rio.

“They took Emma.” The news broke from him in a guttural howl.

Rio’s voice in contrast was icy calm. “Where?”

“From her place. Headed south on Acorn.”

“Copy, dispatching units.”

A cross street loomed.
Right or left. Right or left
. He shot through it—glancing in both directions. Caught a glimpse of a small, mottled gray dog in the distance toward his left.

Slamming on his breaks, he threw the Jeep in reverse and squealed backwards, ignoring the cacophony of horns protesting around him. After zipping around a yellow van, he gunned the Renegade again. Maybe half a dozen streets down, the gray dog flew around a corner.

No stop signs or lights, which meant he was on a through street. He ground down on the accelerator and took to praying again. If anyone pulled out in front of him, they were both toast.

He took the corner Cuddles had disappeared around with barely a break in speed, glancing at the street sign as he shot past.

“They’re on Western,” he shouted toward the phone on the passenger seat.

The dog was much closer this time. So was the battered tail end of a blue sedan.

He roared up behind Cuddles.

Please. Please. Please. Let Emma be in that car.

Blonde hair behind the wheel. Silver hair hung low in the passenger seat.

The tornado of fear inside him calmed. She was alive. He slowed the Renegade to avoid hitting Cuddles, waited for a black pickup to pass, and swung into the opposite lane, gunning the Jeep again. He overtook the blue sedan in seconds—no surprise since it was traveling at the speed of a sloth—and swerved in front of it, cutting it off.

Emma slammed on the brakes, and the sedan lurched to a stop. He was out the Jeep, gun in hand while the Renegade was still rocking.

In the distance, sirens screamed. He and Cuddles arrived at the sedan’s passenger door at the exact same moment. Slowly, too fucking slowly, the window squeaked down. Faded blue eyes in an unlined, parchment smooth face peered up at him.

“I have a gun pressed against your gal’s side. If you try anything, I’ll shoot her. Yes, I will.”

Son of a bitch. Up close, the woman had to be closer to eighty than seventy. And small, so small her head barely reached the window. He had a clear shot—but Jesus, she was an old woman. Besides, if she was telling him the truth and he shot her and her fingers contracted around the trigger—

“Tell him,” the woman said, her silver hair shimmering as she turned her head to address Emma.

“She’s telling the truth, Lucas.” Emma leaned forward, her eyes locking on his. “She thinks you killed Ned, her grandson. Oh, and there are diamonds in the loveseat.” She hesitated as the old lady turned back to Lucas and blurted out— “She says she’s going to kill you…so maybe back up and get the heck out of here?”

A look of pure outrage lit the woman’s face. “You weren’t supposed to tell him
that
.”

As the woman shifted to face Emma, her left arm moved. Emma twisted to meet the old lady, her hands dropping from the steering wheel.

His heart clawing its way up his throat, Lucas raised his gun, but before he had a chance to line up his shot Cuddles went airborne. Her wiry gray body sailed through the window and landed on top of the old lady’s silver head.

Screams and snarling broke out.

* * *

B
efore Emma had
a chance to fight the crazy old bat for control of the gun, Ned’s grandma flung up her hands, grabbing at the wild, howling animal engulfing her head. Slack jawed and disbelieving, Emma picked up the abandoned weapon, thrust open the driver’s door and slid from the car.

“Emma,” Lucas roared, his gaze and gun locked on the battle taking place in the passenger seat. “Take cover behind my car.”

He must not have seen her take the gun and thought the old lady was still armed.

“I have the gun,” Emma shouted back, hoping he heard her through the screams and growls and chorus of sirens. ‘She’s unarmed. Don’t shoot.”

He glanced toward her, saw the gun she held aloft, and lowered his own weapon, Raw relief registered on his face.

Emma turned her attention back to the battle taking place in the car. From the blood streaming down the old woman’s face, Cuddles was obviously winning. She might not have teeth, but she had toenails, which she was using to devastating effect.

“Cuddles! Here girl. Come here.” She crouched to shout the command through the open driver’s door.

Still snarling, the dog scrambled off the old woman’s head and darted out the door. Emma swooped down to scoop her gasping savior up. As she straightened, wincing at the sharp twinge in her back and knees, a trio of cop cars screamed to a stop on both sides of the road.

Squad car doors flew open and blue suited officers spilled everywhere.