“The miserable excuse for a father was extorting money from you.”
She blinked, hoping like hell she wasn't giving herself away.
“Am I right?”
“Why don't you tell me why you think that?” Then maybe she'd tell him he'd hit the nail on the head. Or not.
“For the last three months someone was depositing large sums of money into his bank account. Ten grand every two weeks. We traced the deposit to a Vegas bank. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to get a search warrant for your financial records, but I don't want to put you through that. You may not believe this, but I'm here to help.”
“Help?” she repeated. “You think handcuffing me, tossing me into the back of your car, and dragging me to the airport is helping?”
His smile was surprisingly sheepish. “Extortion is a motive for murder. My colleagues will eventually get that warrant. Your father was involved in criminal activity and whoever was depositing that money could have been bankrolling him.”
Holy crap
. She hadn't thought of it that way. What had her old man gotten her into now? “I would never do that.” Not intentionally anyway.
“You should have gone to the police. Told them what was going on.”
“ âYou're
so
certain he was blackmailing me?”
“If my handcuffing you risked your career, imagine what he could do.”
She'd done just that, a hundred times over. And he was right. The feds would eventually trace the money back to her. “Tell me why we're here. I'm entitled to answers too.”
“Fair enough. I want you to come home with me . . . to Tweedsmuir,” he corrected.
She'd never thought of Noah as unstable, but she guessed thirteen years could really change a man. “On what planet do you think I'd ever set foot in that two-bit town again?”
“Hear me out.”
“Unless you plan on reading me my rights,
return
me to my office.” She not only wouldn't go back with him, she couldn't go back. She and JJ had met outside of town and even that had been too close for comfort. She'd never told Noah the details of why she'd left, never had the balls to admit she couldn't look at Mr. Polanski's family ever again. Not after what she'd done. JJ may have been the puppeteer pulling her strings, but she should've cut herself free long before poor Mr. Polanski had felt he'd had no choice but to take his life. Dear old Dad was the mastermind behind the scheme, but Shannon's hands were no less bloody.
“Like I said, your father was under federal investigation and under surveillance. We know you met with him. Shannon, we think you were the last person to see him alive.”
She guessed it shouldn't totally surprise her that the feds had finally caught up to the son of a bitch. What the hell had taken them so long? “It doesn't mean I killed him.”
“Maybe, but it won't take me long to find out who was putting the money into his account.”
If she admitted to the blackmail, she'd give him a motive for her killing JJ. If she didn't and, not if but when, they found out, she'd be in deep shit. Either way, screwed if she did, screwed if she didn't.
“Shannon, anything you did, you did as a minorâ”
“It doesn't matter.” She knew what he was going to say. “Besides the statute of limitations, it's not about whether I could be arrested or not. I played a part in his scheme. My firm's reputation is at stake.
I have partners to think about it
. You think the press will care that I was an unwilling minor? And now he's gotten himself murdered. There couldn't be a worse time to be associated with that scumbag.”
She hated that man with every fiber of her being. And at the same time, she should thank him. Her father had forced her to become a survivor. She was tenacious and a pit bull in court. Her clients hired her because she won. And win she did. She'd only lost one case. And the whole thing had been bogus. She'd warned her client he didn't have a hope in hell of winning. He should have taken the deal; instead it had cost him millions. From the moment she'd met Eric Brody, she'd been reminded of JJ. She should have listened to her instinct and refused his case.
“I can't help you if you're not honest with me.”
What the hell did she need his help for? She hadn't killed the man. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
For once in your life.
The unspoken words offended her more than they should because she'd given up lying the day she left Tweedsmuir. Why should she care what Noah thought of her? Whatever they'd had was long dead. He wanted honesty? She might as well give it to him. Debate it all she wanted, the feds would find out. “He asked me for money. I gave it to him. Simple.”
“Why would you do that? You hated him.”
“I didn't hate him.” She shook her head. “I
loathed
him. Whoever killed him should be applauded. JJ was slime. Lower than slime. He not only used my mother against me but he tried to turn me into a whore.” She got nauseous thinking about it. Maybe if she was a better human being she'd feel an ounce of... something, anything, for the man who'd spawned her and was now dead. But she didn't. He couldn't hurt her anymore. And if she was lucky, all her dirty secrets died with him.
“What are you talking about?”
She'd said too much. “Nothing. But I'm glad he's dead.”
“What do you mean,
nothing
?”
She'd never told him and wouldn't now. “Leave it alone.”
“Fine,” he said, clearly not happy with her. “Why would you give money to a man you hate?”
“Easy. He threatened to come to Vegas. At the time I looked at it more like insurance. I wasn't thinking clearly.”
He'd found her after her name was leaked to the press. A madman who'd wanted to kill her best friend had held Shannon hostage. Maggie, sweet, react-first, think-later Maggie, had come to her rescue. As the daughter of a famous TV evangelist, Maggie's name and the serial killer stalking her and her dancers, had been in the papers for weeks. Eventually, someone had found out Shannon had been the bait. And as she'd feared, it had drawn the attention of the man she'd hoped to never see again. The whole ordeal had left her shell-shocked. And feeling vulnerable. The perfect pigeon.
“Why were you meeting him?”
“Because when I grew a pair . . .” Once she was herself again. “I realized I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. I flew out to meet him and read him the riot act.”
“And?”
“And I returned to the airport. Waited four hours for my next plane. Got stuck sitting beside this really odd woman, who kept annoying the flight attendant by wanting to change seats, even though the flight was full, and I flew back.”
“How did JJ take it?”
“He realized that revealing himself as my father wasn't such a good idea.”
“After you told him about the file I assume you still have on him?”
She wasn't going to lie. Noah had helped knit that security blanket. “Is that why you're here?” If that was the case, she sure as hell wasn't letting on she still had it, not if he'd use it against her. “You think I have something on him?” She wasn't sure why that stung, but it did. He meant nothing to her. Their relationship had been a childhood fantasy, puppy love. But she didn't have very many fond memories of that town, and Noah had been one of them.
“You do.”
And it implicated her in countless cons. Would he force her hand? Could he?
“Shannon, this is a murder investigation and you're the prime suspect.”
“I don't want to be linked to anything JJ did, including his murder.” She'd done far too many things she wasn't proud of. “You're not in homicide. So how does his death relate to you?”
“Let's just say this is bigger than the cons he pulled when you were a kid.”
Seeing Noah pained her. It had taken years to stop thinking about the boy she'd left behind. Now in front of her was the man, one who believed she'd killed JJ. How little he thought of her.
She'd assumed he'd changed. Everyone did. But it was hard to deny he was still, if not more, handsome. It had taken everything she'd had to keep her cool when the teacher had told her Noah Monroe would be tutoring her. From a distance drooling over the star athlete had been easy. Up close and sitting next to him had required a skill dear old Dad would have been proud of.
She feigned looking out the window.
“Shannon, they recovered a Glock nineteen from the scene.”
Her attention snapped back to Noah. She remembered buying the gun, how uncomfortable she'd felt holding it. “Plenty of people have Glocks. And I left that gun behind when . . .” When she'd broken his heart. “I haven't seen it since I left Tweedsmuir.”
“This one had your print on it.”
“Then my dad found it and kept it. I'm telling you the truth. I didn't shoot him.”
“They determined the print was more than two weeks old, from before JJ was shot. The technology isn't admissible in court yet, but it goes to show the gun
was
yours.”
Shannon laughed at the absurdity. “To think how many times I'd played out shooting him; and the gun I bought to do it actually might have killed him. Did the gun match the bullet?”
“Nothing was recovered. But your gun had been fired.”
She wondered if she was a coldhearted bitch for not caring how he'd died. Then she remembered the night he'd tried to use her in ways a true father, a human being worth mourning, would never have considered doing to his daughter. “Someone picked up the bullets?”
“All we know is they weren't in him. He was killed by the side of Miller's Road, approximately an hour and a half after you were seen with him.”
A plane flew overhead, forcing her to raise her voice. “All right. But you know the print on the gun was old. My gun
might
have shot him. I assume it tested positive for residue?”
He nodded.
“Doesn't prove I pulled the trigger.”
“No, but it's enough to arrest you. And I'm guessing that would be enough for the press to do some digging. Who knows what they could turn up?”
Shannon's swallowed, her mouth suddenly going dry. “I'll sue whatever department thinks to falsely arrest me.”
“But by then the damage is done.”
“What the hell, Noah.” Controlling her temper in court was one thing, but here, in this stupid car, parked at the airport, it sounded a lot like the FBI was blackmailing her. What, did everyone want a piece of her? First some lunatic holds her hostage so he could kill her best friend. Then another piece of garbage holds her hostage by threatening to expose what she'd done as a kid. And now the feds wanted in on that action?
“Hear me out.” He held up his hands. “Everyone agreesâ”
“Everyone?”
“Hanover PD and my team.”
“Oh. Wow, there are a whole slew of you? Don't I feel loved?”
“We want your help. In exchange we'll see about getting you off their suspect list. No one will know you were ever on it.”
She shook her head in disgust. “You're blackmailing me.”
“Think of it as you do the agency a favor and we do you one.”
“I can't possibly imagine what it is you all think I can do for you.” She was a lawyer. None of her skills would help them unless they were planning to sue someone.
“What is it? You want the file. Fine, I'll give it you.” At this point, anything to avoid this mess.
“My team would like to see it, but no, that's not it.”
“Then what, for heaven's sake? Spit it out,” she said, ready to pull her hair outâor his.
“We need you to continue in his place.”
Chapter Two
N
oah couldn't blame her for staring at him like he'd lost it. He wanted to explain exactly the what and the why of it, but she seemed so stunned, he decided to give her time to process. If she hadn't slammed the phone down, he'd have told her this morning. Instead, she'd left him with no choice but to use the scare tactic his team had come up with. The Bureau couldn't arrest her for simple murder, but add tampering with a federal witness or plotting to commit fraud and they had a legal, albeit shaky, leg to stand on.
When she continued to remain silent, he opted for a logical approach.
“JJ reconnected with some old buddies. They were running several cons. One was a version of the Watterson scam.”
Shannon paled. With her blond hair in that tight ponytail, her eyes popped like the most expensive of sapphires. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead. This wasn't making her happy. How could it? She'd run away because of that con, run from the family whose life she'd help ruin and run from him. He understood why she'd wanted out of Tweedsmuir. He just never understood why she hadn't bothered to ask him to go with her. Instead, she'd vanished with the preacher's daughter.
He'd searched for them, but Maggie and Shannon were nowhere to be found. Not until he'd joined the agency had he discovered exactly what state the girls had moved to. By then seven years had passed and Shannon was studying law. He'd debated calling her until he realized what a dumbass move that would be. Her life had gone on happily without him. Besides, she'd left himâwithout a single word or look back. Obsessing over a girl who'd broken his heart was pathetic. So he too had gone on with his life. Looking at her now, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake. She'd gotten even more beautiful and had become as successful as he knew she'd one day be.
“How am I part of all this? And why don't you just shut them down?”
“We can't. Not yet.” He had to choose his words wisely. This was a federal case and she was a civilian. Yes, they needed her, but the case was ongoing and they couldn't afford any screwups. To top it off, if he fucked up this case, he'd never get his promotion. “JJ isâwasâleft over scraps compared to the rest of the investigation.”
Her scowl was ferocious. “What the hell did he get himself in to?”
“Something bigger than him. All we need you to do is finish what he started. A couple of days and you're home free.”
“You want me to milk senior citizens out of their retirement money for an insurance fraud? How's that going to help the FBI?”
Shannon was always very persistent, never giving up until she had the answer she wanted. In school she could debate with a teacher until the cows came home. It didn't matter the subject. If your opinion didn't match hers, she'd insist you defend yours. It's probably what made her a great lawyer. His feelings for her may have died the day she'd ripped his heart out, but he was proud of her. Maybe he was still that sap who'd spent all those months tutoring her.
“You won't be milking any seniors. The federal government kept funding it after we arrested JJ, to keep him believable.”
“Believable to whom? Bigger trash than him?” Her tone indicated she didn't believe that was possible.
Given her history with JJ, Noah could understand why. She'd been a pawn in JJ's schemes since before she could walk. “Yes. Look, if I tell you, I'm breaching security.”
Shannon rolled her eyes. “Of all the . . . give me a dollar.” She held out her hand with an exasperated huff.
“Why do I have to give you a dollar?”
“If you don't have a dollar, I'll take whatever you've got, but make it a bill. I don't deal with change.”
Humoring her, he pulled out his wallet. Short on ones, he gave her a twenty.
She took the money and shoved it down her blouse and into her bra. “Are you arresting me or not?”
“No, not at this time.” The charges wouldn't stick and he wasn't in favor of humiliating her. He'd gotten his team to agree to letting him talk to her first and when that didn't work he'd tried a persuasive approach to get her to listen.
“Good. Then you just hired me for my expert opinion on a case you're working. Client confidentiality; I can't repeat anything you say. Now out with it.”
“That's not legal.”
“Doesn't matter. Considering what I charge an hour and how long I've been in this car, you're getting off easy.”
He grinned, not realizing how much he'd missed her until then. But she was right. Lawyers could charge a small country's budget. His divorce had cost him a major chunk of change. And he and his ex had split amicably. “We nailed your father three months ago. When we learned who he was working for, he reluctantly agreed to help us in exchange for a lighter sentence.”
“After he and I reconnected,” she said, her disgust with the event clear. “Just my luck. You couldn't have nailed him sooner?”
Part of him wished he had, wished like hell he didn't have to involve her. He didn't doubt for one second that the dickhead had thought it was a good idea to blackmail his only daughter. For a man like JJ, a man with no scruples, extorting money from your kid was no big deal. “I'm sorry he was blackmailing you.”
“Well, you and he have something in common now, don't you?” A large jet flew by, rattling the car. “This is ridiculous. At least buy me a coffee if you're not ready to take me back.” Without waiting, she opened the passenger door and got out.
He followed. “Wait.” Maybe he should have kept the handcuffs on, but antagonizing her further wouldn't help their cause.
She turned, setting both hands on the hood. “Out with it. You need me why?”
“Fair enough. Eight months ago we got wind of an Internet posting. Someone claimed he had access to a private placement program where the funds were guaranteed by a Federal Reserve Bank.”
“Someone being JJ?”
“Yes. He offered a million-dollar return on ten thousand after a year. If anyone was interested, he had other programs with even greater returns but would require higher minimum investments.”
“So he upped the ante, and of course people ignored the fact that it sounded too good to be true.”
“People often do.”
The two of them had debated JJ's schemes. They'd both agreed JJ was evil and it didn't matter that people willingly gave him their moneyâit was still stealing. The issue was whether to feel sorry for the victim naïve enough to hand over money in the first place. They'd excluded lottery scams and fake charities, their disagreements centering around people wanting to get rich fast with little effort on their part. He'd argued it was wrong on any level. While she hadn't disagreed, she'd laid part of the blame on the victim. It wasn't until Polanski took his life that she saw things differently. Until then she'd never associated a face with JJ's crimes. Then all hell broke loose. In her mind . . . and his heart.
“I can't believe he had the balls to post an ad.” She shook her head.
“We contacted him and told him we had investors interested in the offer. We arranged a meeting and slowly worked our way up the chain. We'd reached the part where we were told only a privileged few were invited to participate in higher-return ventures. You know . . . the usual bullshit.”
She nodded absentmindedly. How many times had she heard JJ use similar tactics?
“We were monitoring JJ's money transfers when we discovered he had something else on the side.”
“What? Something bigger?” she asked.
“Some
one
,” he corrected, still unable to believe their luck. “We decided to make our move and bring JJ in.” The FBI had been trying to nail this guy for years. “When we told him we had enough evidence to put him away for life, he realized he had no choice but to talk.” Of course they hadn't told JJ exactly who he was working with until after they'd gotten what they wanted. “He'd been offered a lot of money to lend his expertise in setting up a fraudulent network of companies. Once they were up and running, he'd hand them off to one of their people and start a new one.”
“Go figure, the first time JJ is on someone's payroll and he was
still
pulling a con. So how do I fit into this?”
“You know two of your father's cohorts.”
She folded her arms tightly over her chest. “He had a few.”
By her tone and defensive body posture, none that she wanted to see again. He guessed if she were ever to talk, they wouldn't be eager to see her either. But outing them would out her, and she'd never do that. “Luther and Molly Keyes.”
She turned and leaned against the hood. “Those two still alive? I thought for sure they'd do something stupid and end up dead.”
He went around the car and joined her. “We had surveillance on the house in Tweedsmuir. They're aware your father contacted you but not why.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“We bugged his house . . . and his car.”
“So that's how you knew.”
“It's also how we knew to check his bank accounts. The guy had money everywhere.”
“Come on.” She pushed off the hood. “If you're going to screw a girl, you need to buy me that cup of coffee.”
“Are we going into the terminal?”
“Unless you want to take me back to town?” She grinned, flashing white teeth.
“Sorry.” Time was ticking. The Keyeses were getting ready to leave town. She was going to blow, but he had no choice. He went around to the trunk and opened it. Shannon followed and, furrowing her brow, looked inside. He braced himself.
“What . . . the . . . fuck?” she asked through gritted teeth.
He had to give her credit. She'd mellowed over the years. The Shannon he'd known would have hauled off and punched him. He withdrew the suitcase and closed the lid. “Anything that's not here that you need, the agency will buy.”
“You broke into my condo and packed my luggage?” she said, her breathing labored as she attempted to control her temper.
“We should have you home in a few days.” If things went according to plan . . . She'd be back in Vegas and out of his life again. Damn, how stupid of him to regret it.
“Are you all
crazy
?” she screeched. “You can't make me do this.”
They couldn't, but without JJ their case was heading for the crapper, and in his heart he believed Shannon wanted to make amends for the shit she'd helped JJ with. He could have just asked for her assistance, but that would have taken some finessing and they didn't have that much time. Plus, he hadn't seen . . . spoken to her in thirteen years. She'd abandoned him. Everything they'd felt for each other, like JJ's scams, had all been bullshit. Then again, one look at Noah and she could've run the other way. He'd prepared for that reaction. What he hadn't expected was the one she'd given him. She'd been surprised but genuinely happy to see himâuntil he'd handcuffed her. He'd played it wrong but had no choice but to proceed with his assignment.
“Try to keep an open mind.” Lame, but he had to try.
“The FBI is blackmailing me. Open mind?”
“Is this about not wanting to help? Or not wanting to return ho . . . to Tweedsmuir?”
“Both.” Folding her arms, she glared at her suitcase. “I worked hard for that condo. How the hell do I explain the feds to security? You had no right.” Then she leveled her evil stare on him.
He had to admit when he'd been fourteen it'd scared the hell out of him. “Actually, my name was on your pass list.”
“No, it wasn't.”
“Maggie put me on,” he said, resisting the urge to take a step back, out of arm's length.
“She wouldn't blindside me like that.” She wasn't convinced. He had to wonder why.
“I told her I wanted to see you and was afraid you wouldn't agree to it.” Maggie's capitulation had been easy; too easy. While the two of them had always gotten along, Maggie's loyalties were to Shannon. But she claimed Shannon needed closure and seeing him would do her good. He hadn't known how to take it.
“That woman is
too
soft.”
Yes, and it was why it had been even more shocking to learn she and Shannon had left Tweedsmuir. He wouldn't have put a stunt like that past Shannon, but Maggie. . . . What had really surprised him was that they'd left him out of it. “She seemed to think it would do you good to see me,” he said, hoping she'd elaborate.
“Buy me that coffee and maybe,
maybe
I won't be arrested for killing someone for real.” She started to walk away then stopped, glancing back at the car with a puzzled expression.
“Something wrong?” He looked between her and the rental car.
“What isn't wrong?” she said and resumed walking.
He peeked at his watch, debating whether to tell her their flight left in two hours. He'd figured slapping cuffs on her in front of her staff wouldn't win him brownie points. So he'd waited. Luckily, he'd been able to snag two seats on the late-night flight back to the East Coast. Perhaps a stiff drink was a better idea.
Inside the terminal he considered going directly to check-in but instead guided them toward a doughnut kiosk and ordered two coffees. Legally, he couldn't make her go. Ethically, he didn't want to force her hand. Personally, he hated himself for not having a choice. “Now that we have coffee . . .” Which in hindsight might not have been a good idea, considering she might be tempted to throw it in his face. “The Keyeses know you. They're working out of the old Thompson house. We want them to believe you and JJ were working together.”