Ellie Ashe - Miranda Vaughn 02 - Dropping the Dime (21 page)

Ana's flight toward freedom caught us all off guard, and for a moment, there was only the sound of her running shoes slapping against the pavement as she ran clumsily down the middle of the lane, her arms pinned behind her.

"Ah, damn it!" Finn said. He stopped refereeing the Leonidis brothers and sprinted across the lawn toward the street.

In the distance, I heard another sound, a high-pitched whine of an engine. I turned and saw a remote-control plane heading down the center of the wide lane, its buzzing getting louder as it approached us. I looked around for a kid who might be controlling it, but only saw a few neighbors standing on their porches, watching us.

"Ana, stop!" Jake yelled, still holding Simon Leonidis to keep him from falling to the ground.

The buzzing flying object got closer, and my eyes widened when I saw the white plastic frame. I knew that drone. I'd seen it before. In Mark Ramsey's office.

"Ana, run!" I yelled, taking off after her.

Finn looked back at me, probably surprised that I was encouraging Ana's escape, and with his attention diverted, he tripped on the low hedge bordering the lawn and tumbled over onto the sidewalk. I ran past him as he shouted at both of us to stop.

My heart pounded, and my legs complained that I was going beyond my usual leisurely jog, but I pushed on trying to catch Ana. I didn't know what Mark Ramsey's drone was up to, but it couldn't be anything good. If we could get to a row of trees at the end of the block, we might have some cover.

I caught up with Ana and grabbed her arm, pulling her with me toward the trees. She tried to pull away, but I kept my grip.

"Faster," I urged.

The trees were getting closer, but we were still exposed. And then I heard the first popping sound and saw the spark as a bullet hit the pavement on Ana's right. I yanked her to the other side, and we ran across a wide sweeping lawn in front of a gray and white colonial revival-style house. Clumps of dirt flew up on my left, so we zagged in the other direction, still heading toward the trees.

The drone's aim seemed to be improving, the puffs of dirt and grass getting closer to our feet, but there was nothing to hide behind except the trees, still dozens of yards away.

I was gasping for breath, partly from exertion and partly from panic, when Ana stumbled and almost went down.

"Keep going!" I pulled at her arm, and she got her feet under her again.

Behind me, I heard the pop-pop-pop of the drone firing and then a louder gunshot—just one, followed by a high-pitched whine, and the sound of the drone's engine sputtering. I turned as the drone hit the pavement, bounced, and sprayed plastic parts in all directions.

Behind that was Jake Barnes, gun in hand, running toward me. The look on his face was pure relief, a look that I expected was on my face when I saw him burst out of his burning house.

I stopped, and Ana collapsed onto the lawn, sobbing. Streaks of eye makeup coursed down her face, which was contorted by her ugly cry.

"I don't understand what's happening," she wailed.

Jake rushed past her and grabbed me, holding me tight against him. I could feel his heart thumping through his shirt as I clutched at him, the reality sinking in. Mark Ramsey had just tried to kill Ana. He was the one who had set up the fake water district, in order to pay Ana's alimony. He was certainly the only person with access to a murder weapon like that pile of smoking rubble in the middle of the street.

Jake's chest rose and fell as his arms tightened around me, and all thoughts of Mark Ramsey or Ana or murder plots disappeared.

"You have got to stop throwing yourself in front of bullets," he said in a hoarse whisper. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. His hand stroked my hair, making it damn near impossible for me to catch my breath.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice catching. His grip on me tightened somehow, and I felt his lips on my temple. I sank into his chest and hoped that he'd never let go of me.

Finn reached us and pulled Ana to her feet and unlocked her cuffs.

"Oh, come on now, don't cry," he said. "You're safe."

"You saved me." Ana threw her arms around his neck, and he staggered backward in surprise.

I raised my head and glared at her. Jake and I had saved her. Finn had tripped over a shrub and fallen on his face.

Finn raised his arms and gave us a crooked grin as the grateful socialite clung to his neck.

"It's Mark Ramsey," I said, my arms still around Jake. "He was CFO before Milo. If he orchestrated the payments, then he's been paying Ana with money stolen from her family. That's a hell of a motive. Plus, he's CEO of a hedge fund that develops toys. Well, probably war toys for the Defense Department, but I saw a drone like this in his office in San Jose."

Jake nodded. "Okay, we'll get a warrant to search there."

"That place is like Fort Knox. You'll never get in there, even with a warrant. But Burton knows his security chief, Sean Keogh, and he might be able to help you," I said.

Jake pulled away, his hands on my shoulders. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. "Did you say Sean Keogh?"

I nodded. "He's a former federal agent."

"Yeah, I know. He's also the man who was arrested for breaking into Simon's home. He was identified by his fingerprints this morning."

The sound of sirens growing louder drew our attention down the street. A police car pulled onto the street, and Finn jogged off toward it, still carrying Ana. Jake and I went more slowly. By the time we'd walked the stretch to Milo's house, three more cars had arrived. Alexi and Milo were standing in the yard still not looking at each other, but not fighting. Alexi held Kathryn's hand and gave his father a defiant stare, but Simon didn't seem to notice. Either he was stunned from the events or still recovering from
being
stunned by Sarah.

Bethany strode out from behind the SUV and met us at the curb. Sarah followed her, a wary expression on her face. When she saw Jake and me approach, and that Jake still had an arm loosely draped around my shoulders, she smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

"Bethany, we need to prepare an arrest warrant for Mark Ramsey. Are you up for that?" Jake asked.

"I'm fine," she snapped, her voice nasally from the swelling around her nose. She turned to me, a sneer crossing her face. "You certainly have a knack for inserting yourself into trouble."

My spine stiffened, but the weight of Jake's arm around my shoulders gave me comfort. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't arrest the wrong person.
Again
."

Sarah hung up the phone on her desk and gave me a long stare. "Are you happy? I told him everything."

From my desk, I shook my head. "You didn't tell Rob about the flying death machine. You just said that Ana's ex-husband attempted to murder her. You didn't even include that I got shot at. Or that Jake shot the drone out of the sky. And you waited two days to call him."

She shrugged. "If I told him all that, he and Marie would be on a plane in half a second. They're having a romantic island vacation. There's no reason for them to interrupt that now. There's nothing for him to do. He'll be home tomorrow night, as planned."

She was right, but I still felt guilty. To ease my conscience, I'd spent the day volunteering to help Theresa with any chores around the office. She relished my offer, so I'd spent the day filing, packing up old files into boxes, and then driving over to the warehouse to store them. Now my nose was itchy from the dust and my thoughts were on what I'd learned there. Yes, I'd snooped through the archives and found Quinn's file. I mean, why not at this point? I was already out of the running for any employee-of-the-month award.

"You can tell him all those things yourself, when he gets back on Friday," Sarah said, wrinkling her nose. "He wants to sit down and have a talk when he gets home."

I sighed. "Yeah, I figured he would."

The feeling in the pit of my stomach reminded me of my infrequent trips to the principal's office when I was a kid. But since Rob wasn't just my boss any longer, it was even worse knowing that I'd disappointed him.

"How are you going to pick Rob and Marie up at the airport without a car?" Sarah asked.

"The ATF is releasing the Golf Ball in the morning. Burton's going to drop me off there tomorrow before work," I said.

"Did they find anything?" Sarah asked.

"Not that they've shared with me." It would be nice to have the Golf Ball back, sticky clutch and whining brakes and all.

"Well, I'm outta here," Sarah said, standing up. "I have a date."

"Of course you do. Good luck," I said, reaching for the stack of receipts from seven months earlier. Part of my penance included organizing Rob's expenses, which was way overdue.

Sarah let herself out, and I began entering Rob's receipts into a spreadsheet. Just what I needed—a detail-oriented task I could do so my brain didn't focus on Jake, who I hadn't seen since Monday morning at the Leonidis enclave. Not that I expected to see him, but other than a text message that my car could be picked up at the ATF yard, I hadn't had any communication with him. I was sort of getting used to that pattern. He'd save my life, kiss me, and then disappear for days—or longer—without any contact. I understood his job could be grueling and unpredictable, but after Monday, I expected…something. A call? A text? A "hey, are you okay?" Or even a "we should just be friends."

But I got nothing.

Which, I'd admit, was better than hearing he didn't want to be with me.

Sort of.

I focused on the line of numbers and totaled Rob's parking expenses to take my mind off my personal life. And maybe this way I'd earn some points with Rob, who was probably going to be quite unhappy with how Sarah and I had handled Kathryn's case. The man left town for a week and our client nearly got indicted. Plus, one of his employees was inadvertently responsible for blowing up a federal agent's home.

I hoped that Sarah was right that Rob was more forgiving than I thought.

The sound of the front door opening pulled me out of my spreadsheet and my thoughts.

"You forget something, Sarah?"

I looked up and saw Quinn Bishop walk in from the lobby. He paused in the doorway and leaned against the wall. He wasn't dressed in his usual jeans, but was wearing khakis and a dress shirt. It proved that no matter what he wore, a part of me wanted to rip it off of him.

"Hi, Quinn. What are you doing here? Rob's not back until tomorrow," I said, standing up. "Sarah's gone for the day, and Burton's out on a job."

"That's okay," he said with a slow grin. "I was on my way back from visiting Davy, thought I'd stop in and give you guys an update."

"How's he doing?"

"He's doing fine. He's settling in. Becca's going to visit him this weekend."

"It was nice of you to drive down to Lompoc to see him," I said.

Quinn shrugged. "I thought he could use some support. The first couple of days aren't easy." He lowered his chin and leveled those blue eyes at me. "How are you doing?"

I flushed at the attention.

"Me? I'm fine," I said, leaning back on my desk.

Quinn stepped into the office area and leaned on Sarah's desk, right across from me.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Because I talked to Burton this morning."

"Ah, well, that. I wasn't hurt."

He frowned. "I'm glad to hear that, but it sounds like a pretty dangerous situation."

"They arrested the guys who planted the bomb. Fortunately, Sean Keogh wasn't very good at attaching it."

Quinn tilted his head and looked concerned. "Well, be careful. Call me if you need anything," he said, standing up and giving me a wink. "Anything at all."

The blush heated my face, and I pushed off from the desk as Quinn started toward the door.

"Hey, before you go, can I ask you something?"

He stopped and gave me that sexy grin. "Anything at all."

"Why did you plead guilty?"

The smile slipped somewhat, but he turned back and gave me a slow nod. "Because I wouldn't have won at trial. And because Rob negotiated a deal I could live with."

I frowned. "But you didn't do it."

"Why do you think that?" he asked, leaning a shoulder against the wall in a relaxed pose.

"You were detained in San Francisco on your way back from a vacation in Mexico after border patrol found drugs in your suitcase. You claimed they were yours, but they weren't. They belonged to Lorelei Arens, but if she had been arrested, she'd be deported back to Canada and wouldn't be allowed back in. That would ruin her acting career, which was just starting to take off."

When Lorelei, who just scored a lead role in highly anticipated action movie, had realized that their suitcase was being searched, she had begged Quinn to say that the pills hidden in the side compartment were his. He had figured that she'd meant a couple of pills that she'd bought over the border. But it was a lot more than that. The starlet had been running a side-business as a part-time pharmaceutical salesperson to the stars. Whoever got stuck holding the bag—quite literally—would be facing significant prison time.

While Quinn was in prison, Lorelei's career had exploded, and she became the critics' darling with her expressive wide eyes and pouty lips. But I'd never watch another of her movies without thinking of how she'd ruined Quinn's life.

"That's something I don't talk about, except to my lawyer. Because he keeps that stuff confidential." He lowered his chin and gave me a pointed stare.

"Yes, I looked in your file. I work for Rob, and I know better than to blab your secrets around."

How else was I going to discover his past? Those who might tell me said they didn't know, and Rob knew, but he'd never tell me. And because his arrest and guilty plea were in federal court in San Francisco, the case stayed below the local newspaper's radar, which explained why my Internet research yielded nothing.

"I appreciate that."

"I just don't understand. Why do you let all those people look down on you? They treat you like you're a—"

"A criminal?"

"Well, yeah."

"I am. I pleaded guilty to a crime," Quinn said.

"But you didn't do it. You were trying to help your girlfriend."

"It was a long time ago. I appreciate your sense of justice, but it's over, and I've made my peace with it." His tense shoulders said otherwise. Or maybe he just didn't like people prying into his private life.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I just didn't like the way people treated you at the barbecue. And now that I know what happened…" I was at a loss for words at the injustice. "Doesn't it make you angry?"

To my surprise, Quinn laughed, and the tension left his body. "It's nice to have someone stick up for me," he said with a warm smile. "But are you angry on my behalf or yours?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't do what you were accused of, either. But I saw how the guests at the Leonidis party treated you. I could tell it affected you. Maybe you're projecting your anger on me."

"No." I shook my head. "Maybe. It doesn't matter. It's not right that you have to suffer for something you didn't do."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

I sighed. "Yes, I guess I am angry that I'm suffering for something I didn't do. But that's separate from how I feel about you."

At that, Quinn's grin widened. "Are you saying you have feelings for me?"

"You're changing the subject. Stop that," I said, my pulse quickening at his flirting tone.

He took a step forward and I was eye-level with the top button on his shirt. I didn't dare look up because I knew those dangerous blue eyes were studying me. This close, Quinn smelled amazing—like woods and fresh soap and a bit of leather.

"You brought it up," he said, his voice lower. His hand brushed my jaw, from my ear to my chin, then tilted my face up. He leaned in and touched his lips to mine, sending a spark through my body and causing my toes to curl in my boots. His lips lingered and my pulse raced.

Oh, damn.
He was really good at this.

I pulled away and looked down, conflicted. Sure I was attracted to Quinn because, you know, I had decent vision. I mean, the man was gorgeous. But he was also warm and fun, and apparently more loyal than a Labrador. The more I learned about him, the more I liked him. But even the thought of Jake made my heart do cartwheels. When I remembered how I'd felt before he ran out of the burning house, I knew that I couldn't start something with Quinn. Even though I didn't know where Jake and I were heading yet.

"Or maybe there's someone else on your mind," he said softly. He didn't sound insulted, just interested in my answer.

I glanced up and bit my lip. "It's complicated."

"Well, he did save your life." He flashed me that friendly, crooked grin. A rogue's grin. But I knew better. Quinn wasn't the bad boy most people thought he was.

"He did."

Quinn nodded and his hand slid from my neck to my shoulder, which he squeezed with affection. "Don't let that confuse the issue."