Crash and Burn (27 page)

R.J. rounded the hood and jumped behind the wheel.

Krista looked at him. Blood trickled from his temple, but he was otherwise unscathed. “You neutralize either of them?”

“The tall one,” he said. “I tossed his gun into the Rover with bomb. The other guy’s still armed.”

“He’s still out there?”

“Yeah, but his transportation’s gone.”

Bullets pinged against the side of the car. Lily screamed and hunched into a ball. R.J. reached between Krista’s legs and shoved the car into gear.

“Hang on,” he told her.

She braced against the dash as they lunged onto the road.

~ ~ ~

What had been a quiet country road just hours ago was now a river of emergency vehicles—three fire rigs, two ambulances, a half dozen sheriff’s cruisers. A crime scene van had already arrived and detectives said another one was en route. Krista stood on the roadside, watching the chaos, and spotted Scarlet’s Jeep inching through the bottleneck.

“Ma’am, are you sure there’s nothing more you can tell us about the Miata? Any distinguishing characteristics or maybe a partial tag?”

She glanced up at the detective who had been taking her statement for the past hour.

“Like I said, you should ask R.J. Flynn. He’s the one who got the license number.”

Scarlet parked beside a fire truck, got out, and quickly spied Krista. She trudged up the hill, was halted by a sheriff’s deputy, then showed her creds and nodded in Krista’s direction. She was about to get turned away when she flashed a smile and said something more. The smile worked, as usual, and the deputy let her through.

“Guess that about does it then.” The detective flipped shut his notebook. “I’ll call you if I need to fill in any blanks.”

Scarlet walked up and stopped in front of her. “You look like shit.”

“So I hear.”

“What happened to your arm?” Scarlet nodded at the snowy white bandage wrapped around her biceps.

“I got nicked.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s really just a flesh would. What’s the word?”

She folded her arms over her chest, all business now. She looked the part. She wore what she called her “dreaded court outfit,” a conservative black pantsuit and stylish boots, probably because she’d spent the morning in Bel Air.

“Just got off the phone with McMillan. An armed intruder was arrested at Lilian Daniels’s home. The Miata was parked down the street.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t slip away.”

She shrugged. “They sent a couple units over there, caught him up in the crawl space above the house. He wasn’t able to make a swift getaway. Any idea what he was doing up there?”

Krista glanced at the detective she’d just spoken to, who now seemed to be filling in the sheriff. “I’m guessing video evidence from the night of Sheffield’s murder. A disk, a flash drive, maybe even the original cell phone used to get the footage.”

Scarlet nodded. “Does Walker know?”

“I just got off the phone with him. He’s headed over there personally to make sure none of the evidence gets lost in the shuffle.”

“I bet he is.”

“The K-9 team tracked one of Lily’s kidnappers to a vacant cabin up the road,” Krista said. “He was hiding in a tool shed, nursing his wounds.”

“Someone shot him?”

“Evidently. Rick Sykes is still at large.”

Scarlet held her gaze. “They’ll find him.”

“I know.” She was trying to be nonchalant, but Scarlet could see right through it. Sykes was a former cop and a security expert. He was out there and now he had a vendetta against Krista. Just another cheery bit of news to add to her growing list.

“What about Lily?” Scarlet asked now.

“I’m taking her in, soon as I finish up here. One of the deputies is giving us a ride.”

“You sure?” Scarlet’s gaze drifted over Krista’s shoulder.

Krista turned to see Lily Daniels sliding her shapely little butt into R.J.’s Porsche. She was wearing his jacket and her ankle was wrapped in an ACE bandage. R.J. tucked her injured foot into the car and carefully closed the door for her.

Anger swelled in Krista’s chest and she stalked up to him. “Where do you think you’re going with my witness?”

“Taking her in. Walker’s anxious to talk to her.” He turned and rounded the front of the car. “I’d love for you to come, but it’s a two-seater.”

“Goddamn it, R.J.” She clenched her hands into fists.

“Relax, Hart. You’ll get paid.” He smiled at her over the roof of the car. “I’ll be sure to tell him exactly how it all went down.”

“Like hell you will.”

He winked and slid behind the wheel. The Porsche started with a throaty growl. Krista stood there fuming as he made a tight U-turn and the sea of emergency workers parted so he could roll through.

Scarlet came to stand beside her. “That’s the girl? She looks really young.”

“I should shoot him,” Krista muttered.

“Too many witnesses.”

Chapter Eight

Krista pulled her rental car into her driveway and cast an envious look at Mac’s Hyundai. She gathered her groceries from the front seat, then stopped at her mailbox and added a stack of bills to her load. She mounted the porch steps and unlocked her door.

“No place like home! No place like home!” Spencer pecked at his cage.

Krista dumped the bags on the counter. Her home looked like a bomb had gone off in it. She’d spent the past three days writing up reports, fending off reporters, and shuttling between the Orange County Sheriff’s Office and Newport Beach PD to tie up loose ends. She hadn’t sat down for a meal in days and she’d been wearing the same T-shirt for forty-eight hours.

“Give us a kiss!”

She popped open a can of cashews and fed them through the mesh. Her phone buzzed and she dug it from her purse.

“Are you watching the news?” Scarlet demanded.

“No, why?” She reached for the remote and switched on the television.

“They arrested Sykes.”

“Where?”

“Up in Blaine, Washington, trying to slip across the border.”

Krista found the channel. Drake Walker stood on the courthouse steps, surrounded by microphones.

“—appalling miscarriage of justice. He has dishonored the badge, and cast a shadow over the reputations of the many fine men and women who put their lives at risk every day to protect and serve.”

“To protect and
to
serve,” Krista yelled at the television. “He doesn’t even know the slogan.”

“Kris, are you
looking?
”

“—and our team will not rest until every last shred of truth in this case has been brought to light.”

She scanned the row of people lined up behind Walker—his “team” presumably, all dressed to the nines for their TV appearance.

Off to the side stood a pretty young reporter, conducting a one-on-one interview with a man in a leather jacket. He had his back to the camera, but Krista had no trouble recognizing the broad shoulders.

“You see him?”

“Yes.”

“You just missed his statement,” Scarlet said. “Walker pulled him in front of the camera to publicly thank him for his, quote, ‘shrewd detective work in one of the most shocking cases Orange County has ever seen.’ His phone’s probably ringing off the hook by now.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I know.”

But really, it wasn’t. Krista had known exactly what to expect from the moment R.J.’s name came up. A bitter lump formed in her throat.

“Any word on that check?” Scarlet asked. “If he screws us over again, we’ll make his life a living hell.”

“Not yet, but I’ll get back to you.”

Krista ended the call and switched off the TV. She closed her eyes and counted to ten as Spencer flapped around his cage and her temper reached a boiling point.

Her phone buzzed and she checked the screen. Perfect. She picked up but couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

“Krista?”

She was so angry she was speechless. This was a first. She started unpacking groceries: yogurt, Lean Cuisines, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Hey, you there?”

“You’re on the news.”

“That was earlier,” R.J. said. “What are you doing now?”

She plunked soup into a cabinet. “Why?”

“I’m on my way over.”

“I’m not home.”

“Are you at work?”

“No.”

“You’re at home, aren’t you? Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got something for you, and you’re going to like it.”

She snorted.

“It’s a check with your name on it.”

That got her attention. She leaned back against the counter, thinking. Four days straight, Walker had dodged her phone calls, clearly trying to stiff her. Why would he suddenly give her money to R.J.?

“Don’t you want to know how much?” he asked.

“How much?”

“Twenty grand.”

A can of soup slid from her fingers and
thunked
to the floor.

“My entire fee. It’s all yours, on one condition.”

“What?”

“Go out with me.”

Her pulse skittered. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Krista’s heart pounded. A warm, tingly feeling spread through her veins and she got lightheaded. She told herself it was the prospect of a new car, making her loopy.

“Come out with me and you’ll get your money at the end of the night.”

She cleared her throat. “That sounds… kinky.”

“It is.”

She glanced around, panicked. Her groceries were melting on the counter. Her house was a wreck. She hadn’t washed her hair in two days. Her gaze darted to the door and she remembered the kiss from the other night.

R.J. could kiss. If he cornered her alone again, she was a goner.

“I’m not hearing an answer.” His voice was low, teasing now.

“I’m thinking.”

A faint rumble outside her door. Lights flashed through the mini-blinds as a car pulled into her driveway.

“Krista?”

“Yeah?”

“Better think fast.”

Dear Reader,

We hope you enjoyed the first adventures of Scarlet Moreno and Krista Hart! We really loved creating this new series together, and hope to have more stories in the near future.

We also wanted to let you know about our other books. Laura's newest book in her award-winning Tracers series,
EXPOSED
, is available now. In EXPOSED, forensic photographer Maddie Callahan and FBI agent Brian Beckman form an uneasy partnership to find a vicious criminal. And in Allison's Lucy Kincaid series, Sean takes center stage in
STOLEN
when he goes undercover with his former college hackers to uncover a sinister plot.

But that's not all! Laura’s new book FAR GONE hits stores April 15, 2014, and she has included an excerpt here. FAR GONE introduces homicide detective Andrea Finch, who goes to west Texas to rescue her younger brother from the influence of criminal mastermind and ends up becoming involved with the FBI agent investigating the case.

The latest Lucy Kincaid adventure stars Lucy's brother Patrick in
COLD SNAP
as the Kincaid’s try to make it home for a Christmas family reunion but encounter murder along the way, out on October 29th. And just as exciting, Allison is launching a new series on April 8, 2014, starring investigative reporter Max Revere in NOTORIOUS. An exclusive, early excerpt is included in this e-book.

Thank you again for reading CRASH & BURN. For more information about our books and events, please visit our websites: Allison Brennan
www.allisonbrennan.com
and Laura Griffin
www.lauragriffin.com

Warmly,

Laura Griffin and Allison Brennan

Excerpt from Laura Griffin's FAR GONE

Andrea Finch had never been dumped at a barbecue joint, but there was a first time for everything.

Her date looked out of place at the scarred wooden booth in his charcoal gray suit. He’d come straight from work, as she had. He’d ditched the tie but still seemed overly formal in a restaurant that had paper towel rolls on every table and classic country drifting from the jukebox.

“So.” Nick Mays took a swig of beer. “How was your day?”

Andrea smiled. He sounded like a tired husband and they’d only been dating a month.

“Fine,” she said. “Yours?”

“Fine.”

For the dozenth time since she’d sat down, his gaze darted over her shoulder. When his blue eyes met hers again she felt a twinge of regret. He really
was
a nice-looking man. Good eyes, thick hair. A bit of a beer gut, but she didn’t mind, really. His main problem was his oversized ego. Andrea was used to men with big egos. She’d been surrounded by them since she’d entered the police academy, and they’d only multiplied once she earned her detective’s badge.

“Listen, Andrea--” He glanced over her shoulder again and she braced for the speech. “--these last few weeks, they’ve really been great.”

He was a terrible liar, which was too bad. As an assistant district attorney, he was going to need the skill if he planned to run for his boss’s job someday.

He opened his mouth to continue just as a waitress stepped up and beamed a smile at him.

“Y’all ready to order?”

Nick looked pained. But to his credit he nodded in Andrea’s direction. “Andie?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He glanced at the waitress. “Me too.”

“So… y’all
won’t
be having dinner with us?” Her overly made-up eyes shifted to Andrea. She tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear and looked impatient.

“Just the drinks for now.” Nick gave her one of his smiles, which seemed to lessen her annoyance as she hustled off. The smile faded as he turned back to Andrea.

“So I was saying. These past few weeks. It’s been a good time, Andie. You’re an interesting girl.”

She gritted her teeth. If he insisted on using frat-boy speak, she was going to make this
way
harder for him. She folded her arms over her chest and cast her gaze around the restaurant, letting his comment dangle awkwardly.