Deadly Intuition (Hardy Brothers Security Book 2) (17 page)

“Trevor Madison? John Madison is your father, right?”

Trevor smiled, his green eyes sparkling. “He’s my dad.”

“He took the money,” Sophie said, trying to focus her mind on the task at hand. “And you’re, what, you’re covering for him?”

“I’m not covering for him,” Trevor said. “I’m his partner, not his lackey. You need to be clear on that. Partner, not lackey. He couldn’t have done this without me.”

“You’re his partner?” Sophie’s mind was starting to clear. The situation seemed fruitless, but for some reason she had faith in Grady. He would find her. She had to distract Trevor long enough for it to happen. And, if she could keep him busy long enough, maybe she could find a way to escape. Faith in Grady was one thing, putting her fate into someone else’s hands was another completely. “How did you two come up with your little plan?”

“It wasn’t hard,” Trevor said, slipping into a chair so he could face her on an even level. “Dad has access to all of the funds that come and go through the sheriff’s department. He’s been double-dipping for almost six years. He’s gotten really good at it.”

“How did he convince Sheriff Morgan to let him have control of the money?”

“You might not know this about our sheriff, but he’s not very smart,” Trevor said, snorting through his nose. “He’s a total dumbbell.”

“How did your dad manage to attach himself to Morgan?” Sophie asked, acting like she was genuinely interested in the answer – which she kind of was. It was the reporter in her. She couldn’t turn it off.

“Aaron and I went to high school together,” Trevor explained. “We were on the football team together. I was on second string – the coach hated me because I was smarter than him. Aaron was on first string, though, and my dad took an interest in him.”

Sophie read between the lines. John Madison had seen a charismatic winner when he looked at Aaron Morgan, and a pathetic loser when he looked at his own son. He’d hitched his wagon to the winner, but the loser was like an anchor around his neck.

“How did politics fit into the picture?”

“Well, Aaron blew out his knee on the football field when we were in college,” Trevor explained. “My dad came up with the politics idea a few years later.”

“You and Aaron went to college together?”

“We did. We were roommates.”

“Didn’t it bother you that your dad seemed more interested in Sheriff Morgan than you?”

Trevor scowled. “He wasn’t more interested in Aaron. He was interested in manipulating him. There’s a difference.”

“How did he decide on the sheriff’s department?” Sophie asked, deciding to hold back on the personal relationship between Trevor and his father in case her current tactic backfired on her.

“It only takes two years to become a police officer,” Aaron explained. “Dad didn’t think Aaron could focus any longer than that.”

“And you didn’t want to go through the police academy with him?”

“No way,” Trevor said. “That didn’t sound like any fun at all.”

Sophie wracked her brain. She knew something about Trevor, but she couldn’t quite place it. Then a memory stirred. “How did you get involved with animal control?”

“That was my dad’s idea,” Aaron said. “He said I needed a job. I didn’t really want one – I think they’re stupid – but he said I needed a way to make money.”

“How were you living before that?”

“I got an allowance.”

Oh, good grief
. “I still don’t understand how you settled on the shelter.”

“My dad wanted me to have something where he could control my salary,” Trevor said. “He’s the one who picked animal control. I just agreed to his plan.”

“So, you basically drive around and pick up animals?”

Trevor wrinkled his nose. “No. I basically take the truck out and park all day. I don’t like animals. They’re all mean and gross. I’ve got an iPad so I can watch movies and stuff.”

“So you don’t do anything, and you somehow keep your job?” That sounded unbelievable – even for a corrupt government.

“My dad made it so I answered to the sheriff and not the head of animal control,” Trevor said. “He’s always thinking ahead.”

That was one way to look at it. “And how much do you make for all the … hard hours you put in each week.”

“Not much,” Trevor admitted. “It’s only about a hundred grand a year. I wanted more, but my dad said people would notice.”

Sophie almost choked. “You make a hundred grand a year for doing nothing? How long have they been hiding that?”

“It’s been about two years,” Trevor said.

“If they’re managing to embezzle that much money on a yearly basis, why did your dad go for the big chunk of change from the county?”

Trevor shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. I think he needed a windfall to cover for the gambling debts, though. He thinks he’s a professional poker player, but he couldn’t even make it on the amateur circuit.”

Sophie glanced around the room. “He’s not here right now. I can’t really ask him.”

Trevor looked at the watch on his wrist. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. You can ask him then.”

Uh-oh. There was no way John Madison would be as easy to manipulate as his dim-witted son.

FINN
parked around the corner from Trevor Madison’s house, killing the engine and focusing on Grady. His eyes were clear, and his face was grim. He was ready to go to war, if that’s what it took.

“Why are we so far away?” Grady asked.

“I just thought we should stock up here and then sneak into the house from the back,” Finn said. “If we park out front, and Trevor Madison happens to be looking out the front window of his house, he could try and use Sophie as a human shield or something.”

He had a point – which made Grady realize he still might not be firing on all cylinders. “I’m glad James sent you.”

“He’s on his way, too.”

“We can’t wait for him,” Grady said, his heart hammering. “We have to get to her now.”
I need to get her now.

“I know. He’s just going to be backup if we need him. He can catch up when he gets here.”

“Well then, let’s lock and load.”

“Let’s get your girl,” Finn said. “I’m betting she’s going to be happy to see you.”

SOPHIE
heard a door open from somewhere in the house. Trevor didn’t look alarmed by the noise, which meant it was probably his father.
Shit!

“Trevor, I think you should really think about this,” Sophie said, sounding desperate, even to her own hears. “If you kill me, then you’re going to be guilty of a lot more than just embezzlement. Are you ready to be a murderer?”

Trevor’s face was serious. “I can’t kill you. I’m an ass – but I’m not that big of an ass. I just can’t do it.”

Sophie felt relief wash over her.

“My dad is going to have to do it,” Trevor continued. “He’s better at things like this than me.”

John Madison chose that moment to appear in the doorway. His face was hard, his eyes dark. He didn’t look happy with the situation in front of him. Sophie felt hope well in her chest again. Maybe Trevor had done something stupid. Maybe John was here to fix the situation.

“Why isn’t she blindfolded? I told you to blindfold her.”

Maybe not.

“She already knows what I look like,” Trevor said. “It didn’t seem necessary.”

“She didn’t know I was coming, though,” John said. “Now she knows I’m here.”

“I told her you were coming,” Trevor said. “It’s not like it was some big surprise. She pretty much figured out that you were involved. She’s smarter than she looks.”

Hey!
“What makes you think I’m stupid?” Sophie asked, trying to keep the recrimination from her voice. Now was not the time for pouting over personal attacks – no matter how unwarranted they were.

“Look at you,” Trevor said. “Women who look like you aren’t big thinkers. That’s why I like women who look like you. They’re generally nicer. You’re kind of the exception.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“You could use bigger boobs, though,” Trevor said. “You would be so much hotter with a nice, big rack.”

Sophie tried hard to hide her eye roll. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

John stalked into the room and smacked his son across the back of his head. “How stupid are you?”

Trevor rubbed his head, his face screwing up like he was about to cry. “Why did you do that? I did everything you said to do. You don’t have to be mean.”

“Except you told her everything and let her see me,” John said, fury turning his face an ungodly shade of red.

“You’re going to kill her anyway,” Trevor said. “What does it matter? She asked nicely.”

John clamped his lips together, exhaling heavily through his nose. “I don’t understand why I have to explain this to you.”

Sophie didn’t like where the conversation was going. “It’s too late now,” she said. “Besides, if you’re going to kill me, I have a few questions first.”

John’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What questions?”

“How did you decide on law enforcement?” Sophie asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, Trevor was telling me how you took an interest in Morgan when he was a teenager – not in a creepy way. But, when his football aspirations were cut short, you must have been upset,” Sophie said. “I was just wondering how you decided to point him in the direction of law enforcement.”

“Trevor told you a lot, I see.”

“We’ve had some time.”

“Well, if you want your
Scooby-Doo
moment, who am I to argue?” John said. “It’s not like anyone is looking for you.”

“I think that guy with the long hair is probably looking for her,” Trevor interrupted. “They’ve been fucking like rabbits.”

Sophie swallowed her distaste. “He’s at work. He won’t be looking for me for hours. And, even if he figures out that I went to the newspaper, it’s not like he has any idea who Trevor is.”

That was, unfortunately, the truth.

“See, I told you,” Trevor said, basking in his triumph. “I was totally under the radar.”

“What about the women who were with her at the bar?” John asked. “They saw you. And Hardy saw you at the newspaper.”

“Like he can remember what I look like,” Trevor scoffed. “That dude is so pretty he gets distracted by shiny things. There’s no way he’ll remember what I look like.”

John smacked the back of his son’s head again. “He’s a security expert. That’s what he does for a living.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before you told me to go after her,” Trevor said. “That’s your mistake, not mine.”

“She didn’t meet him until that day at the newspaper, you nincompoop,” John shot back. “Think!”

The father and son dynamic in the Madison family was rife for ridicule. Sophie wasn’t in a great position to do that just now – but she was going to go nuts if she got out of this situation. “You were going to tell me about Morgan and why he went into law enforcement,” she pressed.

“I figured that positioning him to be sheriff was the easiest way to get him into a power position,” John said. “Prosecutor was out of the question. There was no way he could pass the Bar exam. County commissioner was a possibility, but with so many of them on the panel there was no real way I could guarantee he would have actual power.

“I needed a stepping stone for greatness,” John continued. “This was the one I picked. It’s worked out rather well, don’t you think?”

“Except for that whole missing-money thing,” Sophie said.

“Yeah, well, that probably wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t stuck your big, fat nose into the mess,” John countered.

“The commissioners were the ones who discovered the missing money,” Sophie said. “I was just the one who publicized it. If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve just been someone else.”

“All I needed was more time to fix the books,” John said. “I already knew what I was going to do. I was going to shift it into different departments – or at least make it look like I had. The jail was going to get the biggest portion; SWAT was going to get a chunk, too. Some of it was going to the animal shelter.”

“Sixty thousand,” Sophie said, numbers swimming into view in her mind. “You promised the animal shelter sixty grand.”

“Yes,” John agreed. “The books were going to reflect more than a hundred thousand going there, though. I had it all planned out until you came around and ruined everything.”

“Sorry.”

“You just wouldn’t let it go,” John said. “I gave you every chance. Then I had to think outside of the box.”

“The night after the county commissioner’s meeting, you knew something was going to happen, didn’t you? That’s why you were so anxious to get Morgan to leave. You knew that those guys were going to shoot up the place.”

“They were supposed to kill you then,” John admitted. “They screwed it up, though.”

“Well, if you can’t trust bargain-basement gangbangers, who can you trust?”