Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (12 page)

Read Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run Online

Authors: Marion Faith Carol J.; Laird Lenora; Post Worth

Tags: #Fluffer Nutter, #dpgroup.org

“I do. I will,” she said, still not sure. And because she couldn't deal with his raw honesty right now, she added, “Can I trust you to get me back to New Orleans without getting a speeding ticket?”

“Absolutely,” he said on a grin. “I know all the back roads.”

“A muscle car,” she said, shaking her head. “Criminals can be so eclectic about things.”

“Armond fits that mold,” Connor said, his hand on the gearshift. “One minute, I'd think I had him, and the next he'd be in such a foul mood no one, including me, wanted to be around him. He always seemed secretive, but at times he sounded downright depressed.”

“A life of lies and crime can do that to a man.”

“I should know that.” He glanced over at her. “One day, I want to be able to walk down a street without having to look behind me.”

Josie's heart did another little shift. That made her mad. She didn't want to like this man and she sure didn't want to be attracted to him. But when he kissed her...her whole world became blurred and confused. She'd stepped over a mighty big line, and now she couldn't go back.

Did she want to go back?

She glanced over at Connor. He was dirty, windblown and gritty right now, but he still did things to her.

“What?” he asked, giving her that slanted look that always took hold of her heart.

Josie shook her head. “I don't know. Still trying to figure you out.”

“You need to give up on that.”

“Why? Afraid I'll get too close?”

“You are too close.”

So he felt the same way. Or had he purposely tried to confuse her?

“We have to stay on track,” she said. “We're running out of Armonds.”

“I won't stop until they're all either turned or in jail.”

“But you said you didn't have much on them. Have you been holding out on the FBI?”

“No. I've shared things with the FBI to build a file and a case, but it was never enough to bring him in. For two long years I've worked hard to gain Armond's trust. I expected the man to kill me several times over. The puzzle is this—why hasn't he? And why did he turn to me the other night?”

“He thought he had you cornered,” Josie said. “By the way, why did you agree to meet him at the opera? We went along with it, but now that I look back that seems crazy, considering we wanted to bring him in without any fanfare.”

He winked at her. “It was
La Bohème.

“I get that you're into Italian operas, but you had another reason for being there. Or maybe he did.”

He finally nodded. “I wanted to spy on Armond
before
I met with him. I thought if I got something else on him, I could use it against him as leverage when we had our little talk.”

“A gift to the FBI or payback with Armond?”

“I'm not above blackmailing a criminal to get out of a jam.”

“Why at the opera?”

“He conducts a lot of business in his balcony box.”

“So you dressed up and planned to what...stand in the corner and listen in, or maybe sit down beside him and ask him to tell you something you could use against him?”

“It wasn't like that. I wanted to see who would be meeting him there.”

“Oh, and how did you know he'd be meeting someone else there?”

He hesitated, then glanced over at her. “You won't like this, but I
haven't
told you everything.”

Josie's heart pulled back up to solid ground. Of course he hadn't told her everything. Hadn't she felt this coming? “You just told me you had. Talk, Connor, and this time, don't leave anything out.”

Connor's expression filled with regret and resolve. “Sometimes, he'd dismiss all his guards and go alone to his box seats. And I mean alone. I never was invited to attend with him, but I've gone to the opera house several times to see if I could figure out who he was meeting.” He maneuvered the car around a sharp curve. “I thought maybe it was Lewanna. His guards weren't around when she got shot.”

“But you obviously didn't see anyone else.”

“No. I was getting close—I'd dismissed several people as bit players. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe his son wasn't showing up.
His other son,
that is. Whoever it was always slipped away before anyone knew.”

“Did you know there might be another son?”

Connor shifted gears and turned onto another stretch of highway. “I suspected. I was trying to find out who that might be back when the Benoit issue came to a close. But I'm beginning to think no one will ever know for sure.”

FOURTEEN

T
he Camaro lived up to its name.

They'd made it back to the city in record time.

But Josie couldn't enjoy the ride. She stared over at Connor, all the trust built between them crumbling like decayed bricks. “You suspected and yet you failed to mention that because...?”

“Because it's just a hunch, and because I was waiting to see what transpired.”

“Waiting? Connor, this isn't about waiting. This is about being honest with me. You didn't speak up when Beaux told us there might be a second son. Are you trying to break free from this man's grip or are you protecting him because you're really on his side?” She turned in the seat and hit a hand on the dash. “You're still playing games with me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you right up front, but I don't have any proof. He just mentioned it once, when we were cruising in this car.”

Still reeling, Josie asked, “And what exactly did he say?”

“He told me he wished things could have been different...for his sons.”

“Sons? Plural.”

“I just thought he'd used the wrong term. He looked broken and sad and...I don't know...my instincts told me he wanted to say more.”

“Did you question him?”

“I tried. I asked him about Lou and why he never came around. He gave me a sad smile. He said, ‘I don't make him feel loved.'”

“What else did he say, Connor?”

Connor downshifted as they exited the interstate. “He said he wasn't sure who would inherit his estate.”

“And?”

“And he replied that another man would get the bulk of it. That's when I figured he had a silent partner.”

Josie's mind went into overdrive right along with the zooming car. “A silent partner who is his secret son?”

“I don't know. When I asked him about it, he brushed it aside and changed the subject, but something about that day stayed with me.”

“And yet, you didn't tell me any of this until now. How do you expect me to believe anything you say to me?”

“Look, I'm working hard to prove myself, but...I told you this is just a hunch. When Beaux told us Armond might have another son, I figured that was why he was so morose and depressed that day.”

“You can say that again,” she replied, anger shimmering underneath her still-shaky heart. “Nothing about this makes any sense. If I didn't know better, I'd think you've been taking me on a merry chase down a rabbit hole.”

“I'm not doing that,” he replied. “I want to find out the truth, too. We need to come up with a con to get them all talking.”

“No, no cons, no more lies. Just take me to my office.”

“I'm taking you to my apartment,” Connor said as they cruised through early-morning traffic. “We can shower, eat and get some rest there. And maybe we can do some more research, come up with a plan.”

“I don't want to go to your place. I need to report back to the office.”

“You can't do that. It's not safe.”

She pinned him with a burning glance. “Says who?”

“Me. What if someone is watching your apartment? What if someone in your office is in on this?”

“I've got people handling that.”

He gave Josie a quick glance. “You think you've got people handling that.”

“So while you've had me on the run, you've also been working behind my back.” Putting her hands to her head, she clutched at her hair. “You are seriously driving me nuts, Connor. I can't trust you, and I'm sorry I ever thought I could. Now, take me to my apartment.”

* * *

Connor decided to oblige her. She was the one who couldn't see what was clearly in front of her. This wasn't just about Armond and him. Somebody wanted her dead, too. If she hadn't managed to duck and crawl away when the shooting had started at Mama Joe's, she would be dead right now. Then the fire and Vanessa Armond luring her inside that burning building. He couldn't figure that one out, since Vanessa could have died, too, but Connor's gut told him Vanessa was planted there to distract Josie.

“Look,” he said, hoping she'd be reasonable. “I've learned how to observe people. Vanessa and Lou showing up last night wasn't just a coincidence. I think they set that fire because they wanted to either destroy something permanently...or kill both of us. The whole thing smelled of a setup, just like Lewanna showing up at the opera. Just like that paperwork and cash fund in the safe. We're getting too close to the truth, Josie. The heat is on.”

She shrugged. “I guess you're good at keeping one foot in the fire, no pun intended.”

“I have to keep one foot in the fire to do what the FBI expects of me. And right now, that means I'm sticking by you.”

“I can take care of myself,” she retorted, her arms across her midsection.

“I believe that. I've seen that. But, Josie, I'm not playing. We have to be careful.”

“What about this car? It's a bit conspicuous. You knew exactly where to find it and now you have it. What if you know what everyone is looking for and you've found it?”

Weariness zapped at Connor's bones. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious,” she replied, her body shifting as close to the passenger-side door as possible.

“We had to get back to town,” he explained. “And if I'd wanted to take this car, I could have done it long ago. I could be somewhere on a beach right now, but I'm not. I'm here with you because I want to be here. You need to remember that.”

“What I need to remember is that you were once a criminal. And you know what they say—”

“Stop it,” he replied. He didn't have to prove himself to her or anyone else. “Let's just get somewhere safe.”

“Right now, I think that would be away from you.”

“You need to trust me,” Connor said. What more did she want? No matter how much she might doubt him, he intended to keep Josie safe.

At the next traffic stop, he pulled out his phone and hit the keys. When the light changed, he dropped the phone back into his pocket. “I never text and drive,” he explained. “But the word is out and we will be watched and protected while we're in the city. Even criminals have a network, and sometimes I have to depend on it.”

“Amazing.” Josie sat with her head slanted, staring over at him. “You steal vintage cars and associate with criminals, but you have a code of ethics regarding cell phones and honor among thieves?”

“I do have my standards,” he replied on a curt tone.

She gave him another Josie glare. “I'm not so sure I should be alone with you on your own turf. Dangerous. You're still holding out on me.”

“That's the last of my secrets,” he said. Connor didn't know how to make her believe in him. He'd never come this far with a woman before. He'd never thought it possible.

With Josie, it might not be possible. And why was it the one thing he now wanted most seemed so far out of his reach?

But how could he blame her?

She'd been conned all of her life by a father who pretended to be someone he wasn't. How could Connor expect her to ever see who he truly was, the man he wanted to become?

You just keep doing what you need to do.

And what if that wasn't enough?

He pulled the car up to her Garden District apartment. “I'm going in with you.”

She got out before he'd put the car in Park. “You don't need to do that.” Josie took off up the gravel lane toward the two-story house. “Just remember to report to either me or Sherwood. I've got my own reports, and I'm sure I'll hear a good chewing-out from my boss.”

Connor got out of the car. “Josie, wait. Please?”

She kept walking.

He followed.

She'd made it up the porch to the first door on the left, her keys in her hand. But when she got there, she touched the door and immediately drew her weapon.

The door was open.

Connor rushed up behind her. “I told you it wasn't safe.”

“Shh.” She entered carefully, her gun trained on the hallway.

Connor stayed right behind her, his gaze taking in the broken locks on the door and the scattered books and papers lining the long hall.

When Josie turned to the left, she stopped and glanced back at him. “I guess you were right, after all.”

He didn't want to be right. “I'm sorry,” he said. He started past her.

“Wait!” She hurried around him, her gun up while she checked the bathroom, bedroom and kitchen.

The whole place was ruined. Shattered dishes, broken lamps and knickknacks, clothes tossed, pillows gutted and spewing foam and feathers.

Josie stood at the end of the hall and stared. Thinking she was in shock, Connor tried to reach out to her. “Josie?”

She turned on him, her eyes a burning golden-green. “I'm fine. You don't have to handle me with kid gloves. I won't break, Connor. I never break.”

“I know,” he said, his heart doing enough breaking for both of them. “But you're coming home with me.”

“No.” She went into action. “Don't touch anything. I have to call this in, and we have to preserve the scene. I'm sure they didn't leave any prints, but we can dust the door and...anything they might have touched.” She looked around. “Which seems to be everything.”

Connor watched as she walked over to a broken picture of a smiling little girl with two adults. Her parents? She stared down at the image, then moved her fingers over the shattered glass. With a gasp, she put it down and stared at her hand.

Blood poured from her wound.

“Here, let me help you,” Connor said, taking her hand in his.

“No. I told you I'm fine. Now get out of the way and let me do my job.”

He ignored that and went to the kitchen, found a paper towel and wet it. Then he came back and took her hand again. “You're bleeding. You'll be the one to contaminate the scene.”

She stared across at him, her eyes still blazing, her hair wild and tumbled around her face. “I don't need you,” she said, her anger boiling over. “Do you understand me, Connor? I don't need you.”

“I know.” He kept touching the cool paper towel to her cut. “I know.”

She yanked away and dialed 911, then called Sherwood.

Then she started taking pictures of each room, her phone clicking as she went. After each picture, she jotted notes on her notebook app, her thoroughness as solid as her dislike of him.

But Connor wasn't finished with her. Not by a long shot.

Because he'd seen something else there in her fiery gaze.

Hurt.

She'd been hurt, and now she was trying very hard to hide that hurt behind an FBI shield.

He wanted to be the man to take that hurt away. But before he could do that, he needed to prove to her that he could be worthy of the task.

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