Mine To Hold (9 page)

He grabbed her bag. “Let’s go.”

She nodded and hurried to keep up with him.
He didn’t want to tell her why they needed to rush. Claire would
just worry. She’d been in the bathroom when he got the phone call
that tipped him off about the visitors coming their way, so she
didn’t know what was happening.

I’ll tell her…later.

When he got her in the elevator, he pulled
Claire into his arms. He kissed her long and deep. The woman still
tasted like candy to him.

But he forced himself to pull back a few
seconds later. The doors slid open. He locked his fingers with
hers.
Claire.
He finally had her just where he needed her to
be.

They stepped into the lobby. Hurried toward
the hotel’s main doors.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a couple
talking with Chuck. The woman was small, attractive, with light
brown skin and a haircut that skimmed her jaw. A blond male was at
her side. Tall. Wide shoulders.

Something about them put Noah on alert.

His fingers tightened around Claire’s. They
were almost to the doors.

“Mr. York?” The voice calling to him belonged
to the blond male.

Noah kept walking.

Claire stopped.

Dammit. When she stopped, he had to stop,
too.

“Mr. York? I’m Detective Lane Scott. I’ve got
some questions for you.”

Claire still wasn’t moving. Because of that,
Noah had to turn and fully face the cops—he was sure the woman was
a cop, too.

“What’s happening?” Claire asked as she edged
closer to Noah.

Then the man and woman were right before
them. The guy’s gaze slid to Claire. “You’re Claire Kramer.”

Claire nodded.

The woman with Lane Scott asked, “Want to
tell us where you were last night?”

Noah stepped in front of Claire. “What’s this
about?”

The woman’s dark eyes cut his way. “I’m
Detective Gwen Lazlo. Lane and I work the D.C. homicide
division.”

“Good to know,” Noah murmured. “But we’ve got
a plane to catch.”

“Senator Colby Harrison was murdered last
night,” Gwen said. When she made this reveal, she’d made a point of
maneuvering to the side so that she had a line-of-sight with
Claire.

“
What?”
Claire gasped.

“Um…” That non-committal sound came from
Lane. “Someone shot the guy—right in the head—last night between
one and three a.m.” Lane paused as his gaze swept over Claire.
“Where were you then, Ms. Kramer?”

Noah turned back to Claire. She’d gone ashen.
Her eyes were too wide.

“In the…in the head?” Claire whispered.

Just like her parents.

Because he’d read the autopsy reports on
them. He’d
needed
to read them, had to learn as much as he
could, after he’d met Claire.

“It’s all right,” Noah told her and he made
sure that his voice was calm. “Look at me, Claire.
Look at
me.”

Her gaze met his.

“It’s all right,” he repeated. They had to be
very careful here. If Claire hadn’t left last night, his staff
would have been able to vouch for her.

I didn’t count on her leaving.

That had sure wrecked his plans.

Claire nodded slowly.

“I don’t know that it
is
all right,”
Lane drawled.

Noah glanced back at him. The blond was
scratching his jaw.

“I mean, a man is dead. Half of his head was
blown away and—”

Noah heard Claire’s sharp inhalation of
breath. His jaw clenched. “Be
very
careful how you proceed,
Detective,” Noah warned him. “You don’t want to make any enemies
today.”

Lane’s eyes widened. “You threatening
me?”

Noah had to laugh. “Threats are useless. Why
bother with them? I make promises.”

Lane glanced at his partner.

“Ms. Kramer hasn’t answered our question,”
Gwen said, voice tight. “We need to know her whereabouts. It’s come
to our attention that she and the victim had an…altercation last
night.”

“Bullshit,” Noah snapped before Claire could
speak. “I’m the one who had an altercation with the drunken idiot.
He came into
my
hotel and insulted my guest, so I threw his
ass out.” He flashed his teeth in a hard grin. “End of
altercation.”

“But Ms. Kramer—” Gwen pressed.

“I didn’t kill him,” Claire said. She eased
to Noah’s side. Stared at the detective. “That’s what you really
want to know, isn’t it? If I killed him?” Claire shook her head. “I
didn’t.”

Gwen pursed her lips as she assessed Claire.
“A woman fitting your description was seen at the senator’s hotel,
right around the time of his death. Actually, the senator’s
manager, Vincent Finch, didn’t just say she fit your description.
He’s sure that she
was
you.”

“He’s wrong,” Noah said flatly. “And there
are plenty of blonde’s in this city.”

“But there aren’t that many who would
probably take a savage satisfaction in blowing out Senator
Harrison’s brains,” Gwen said. Her voice was low, and her eyes were
still on Claire. “After what happened to you, I could see where
you’d want payback. Your boyfriend killed your parents. Maybe you
just got around to evening up that score.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Claire said, voice
soft.

“Why don’t you come down to the station and
answer a few questions for us?” Lane asked her, and the jerk was
trying for a solicitous tone. The man must think Noah was an
idiot.

You aren’t getting Claire any place near your
station.

“We have a plane to catch,” Noah said.

Lane shook his head. “We have an active
murder investigation, you can’t just leave—”

“I can. We will.” Noah cocked his head to the
right. “We’ll be in New York for the next few days. If you want to
reach me or Claire, you can contact my attorney.” He rattled off
the name and number of his lawyer. The lawyer in question was a
lady who would chew up and spit out anyone who ever came after
Noah.

Then he rolled back his shoulders in what he
hoped appeared to be a careless shrug. “Now, I’m sure you have
plenty of work to do. After all, there’s a killer out there for you
to find.”

He took Claire’s elbow and walked with her
toward the doors.

“Ms. Kramer?” Gwen called out.

And, of course, Claire glanced back.

Noah sighed.

“I’m curious…are you glad he’s dead? Because,
in your place, I would be.”

Noah had to give Gwen credit. The woman was
very skilled at the good cop role.

“Yes,” Claire whispered. “I’m glad.” Then she
walked through the door. Noah made sure that she didn’t have the
chance to stop again.

***

“Well, well…” Lane exhaled as Noah York and
Claire Kramer left the hotel. “That went pretty much as I’d
thought.”

Yeah, it had gone nowhere.

Gwen rubbed the back of her neck. Tension was
thick there, knotting the muscles. She’d been awake for almost
twenty hours, and she needed to crash.

Unfortunately, every time she closed her
eyes, she saw Colby Harrison’s body.

“You think she did it?” Lane asked as his arm
brushed against hers.

Gwen looked over at him. He’d been her
partner for a year.

Her lover for six months.

“If I’d been her, I would’ve probably killed
him,” Lane added. “I mean, shit, you read the file on her. The
fellow’s son went full-on stalker over the woman. He had a gun to
her head when the cops arrived. Everyone there knew just what he’d
done, but then the
Senator
started spinning that bull about
Claire being the mastermind—”

Gwen’s sigh cut through his words. “Men. You
see a pretty face, and you forget the danger.”

He blinked at her. Then he leaned in close.
His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “You’re the only pretty
face I see.”

Gwen wouldn’t let her reaction to his words
show. She’d learned to be very careful with Lane. With everyone.
“I’m saying I think there is more to Claire Kramer than meets the
eye.”

Lane ran a hand through his hair, tousling
the short locks. “Despite what he said, I’m betting that Noah York
is going to put an
army
of lawyers in our path, not just one
lady, if we go after Claire Kramer again.”

Lawyers didn’t scare Gwen. “Then we just have
to be sure that when we go after her, we have enough evidence to
knock our way right through that army.” And she knew just where
they had to start with that evidence. “Let’s go get Vincent Finch.
I want him brought into the station.” She had plenty of other
questions to ask the guy.

If Claire Kramer had killed the senator, Gwen
wasn’t about to give the woman a free pass. She might feel bad for
what Claire had been through—

But you don’t get to kill in my town.

***

The plane was in the air. Noah exhaled
slowly. He’d wanted to get away before the cops stopped them,
but…well,
we’re still clear.

Claire was beside him. She wasn’t looking at
him, though. Her gaze was locked on the window.

The pilot was up front. They were alone in
the back. Secure. So he waited, knowing that sooner or later,
Claire would turn to him.

Five minutes later, she did.

“Do you think I killed him?” Claire asked as
her delicate eyebrows arched.

Noah shook his head.

“Why not?” She seemed confused. “I don’t have
an alibi. I don’t—”

“You misunderstand me, Claire.” He caught her
chin. For this part, he needed her to look directly into his eyes.
“I don’t
care
if you killed him.”

Her lips parted.

“But I will make sure that no matter what
else happens, those cops stay away from you.”

“I didn’t do it!”

He kept staring into her eyes. “Were you at
his hotel?”
Say no.
It would be so much easier to cover up
if she just—

“I was.” Her gaze lowered. Her long lashes
shielded her eyes. “I asked the bellman at our hotel where the
senator had gone. He-he’d been there when the taxi driver got the
destination.” She eased out a soft sigh. “I thought about talking
to the senator alone. Asking him to pl-please stop. To just leave
me alone.”

Anger surged within him.
She shouldn’t
beg.

Then Claire’s lashes lifted. Something new
was in her eyes. A spark. Anger of her own. “Then I realized he’d
just like it if I went to him, pleading. He wasn’t going to stop
harassing me. There was no point in me talking to him. The bastard
was going to hound me for the rest of his life.” Her breath eased
out slowly. “I’m glad he’s dead. That should make me feel bad, but
it doesn’t.”

It didn’t make Noah feel bad. During his
life, he’d seen plenty of death. Before he’d started York Towers,
he’d been a soldier, one too good at killing. He’d gotten a spot on
an elite military team.

He and Trace Weston had run that team. Their
job had been to rescue high-level prisoners who’d been captured by
U.S. enemies. Collateral damage had been a way of life.

His fingers stroked down her neck.

Collateral damage.

After he’d ended his last tour, Noah had kept
working with Trace. They’d gone independent. There were still
individuals who’d needed their help. Powerful men and women who’d
gotten caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Some of their clients had been extremely
grateful.

One had been so grateful that he’d given Noah
his first hotel.

And Noah had walked away from the bloodshed.
From the battles. From the death.

For her, I’d walk back.

For Claire, he was coming to realize that he
might do just about anything.

Even kill.

***

“There he is,” Gwen said as she pointed
across the street.

Vincent Finch had just left his hotel.

“Let’s get him.” Lane let out a loud
whistle.

Finch glanced up at the sound. They’d called
him and told the guy they’d be coming back to pick him up.

Finch hurried toward the cross walk.

The light changed. Finch didn’t stop walking.
He ran into the street.

An engine revved.

Gwen’s eyes widened. “Finch,
stop!”

A black SUV shot forward. It slammed right
into Finch. The guy’s body flew into the air, twisted, then hit the
concrete.

The vehicle kept driving. It raced away with
a squeal of its tires. She heard Lane calling for back-up. Gwen ran
across the street.

Blood, oh, jeez, blood was everywhere.

Finch was face-up on the concrete. His neck
was twisted. His eyes—closed.

“Finch?” Gwen put her hand to his throat.

No pulse.

Their only witness was dead in the
street.

Chapter Five

“I have to leave town,” Noah said as he paced
toward Claire.

Shocked, she could only shake her head. “We
just got back
in
town an hour ago.” They’d made it to York
Towers less than ten minutes before.

“This can’t wait,” Noah said.

Claire was shaken.
Senator Harrison is
dead.
She wanted Noah to stay with her. She didn’t want to be
alone and— “I can come with you,” she offered and hoped that she
didn’t sound desperate. She sure felt that way.

He shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Where are you going?”
What was
happening?

“Vegas,” he said flatly. “I’ll be back by
tomorrow.” He started packing. Claire just watched him, totally
lost.

After everything that had just happened, he
was going to fly away and leave her?

“Drake Archer is going to keep an eye on you
while I’m gone.”

Claire stiffened. “I don’t need anyone to
‘keep an eye’ on me.” And she sure didn’t need Drake to be that
guy.

She’d met Drake in Chicago, right around the
time she’d met Noah. Drake had been involved in that nightmare
situation, too. Like Noah, Drake was caught in the tangled web of
Trace Weston’s past. Claire didn’t exactly know what those three
men had done when they were in the military, but they’d made plenty
of deadly enemies.