Dangerous Surrender (2 page)

Taylor dove to the side, trying to hide as the doors started to close. The pinging of the bullets against the metal doors was like rain on a tin roof until the door finally whooshed shut in a rush.

Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as the elevator descended. Only as the door opened into the garage did she realize she’d been shot.

* * *

Neal cursed as the elevator slid closed behind that bitch Taylor. She was too fucking smart for her own good.

Think, think, think.

He’d only have minutes to act, minutes to get everything in order, to cover his tracks. He whipped out one of his cell phones as he backtracked to Hugh’s private bathroom and through his office. Ignoring his dead partner’s body, he dialed 9-1-1 as he hurried down the hallway.

“9-1-1 operator, what is your emergency?” a woman with a crisp, serious voice asked.

“My partner…he’s dead. She shot him!” He sounded panicked even to himself as he reached his office. Immediately he started tugging his jacket and shirt off. He had to strip, shower in his private bathroom and scrub off all the gunshot residue from his hands and any on his body. He’d be disposing of his clothes and the gun, which wasn’t registered to him. And he’d be pinning everything on her. If it was his word against hers he had no doubt the cops would believe him.

“Who’s been shot, sir?”

“My partner, Hugh Powers. I came in to work early like I usually do and found Taylor Arenas in his office standing over his dead body with a gun in her hand. I barely managed to escape. She tried to shoot me too but I was able to make it to our executive elevator.”

“Sir, I need your physical address.”

After he rattled it off, he said, “I just left him lying there. I need to check on him.”

“No, sir. If you’re in a safe location you need to stay where you are. I’ve got officers and paramedics en route now.”

“He’s my partner, my mentor. I…I’ve gotta check on him. He could still be alive.”

“Sir—”

He hung up on her. Later when questioned he’d say he lost service in the elevator, which he hadn’t been in. But they’d never know that. He was going to turn the story around so that he was the victim and Taylor the aggressor.

Half-stripped, he sat in front of his computer and pulled up the security feeds. As a partner he had access to everything in the building. Not using his code, but Hugh’s, he logged in and deleted today’s and yesterday’s feeds. Taylor had wanted to upgrade their system so that everything transmitted to an external server, but Hugh had shot her down because he wanted to keep his old-school technology. Very anti-Big Brother, he hadn’t wanted outsiders to have access to anything to do with his company. Now the old man’s stubbornness was going to let Neal get away with his murder. The irony made him smile.

Next he turned off the security feed completely. Taylor was a genius with computers so it made sense she’d be able to hack in and erase what she’d done. As soon as he was done deleting the files, he tugged off his pants and balled all his clothes together, hurrying back toward his private bathroom.

Shaking, he scrubbed himself raw from head to foot, taking care with his hands and face, the places that had been exposed. He read enough and watched enough television that he knew gunshot residue washed away easily enough. Getting rid of his clothes would be important though. He couldn’t do it now, but he would soon enough. Until then he’d have to stash them… Where?

There was an empty conference room on the floor below. He could stash it up above one of the ceiling tiles. That would work, especially since the security cameras were off.

What else…shit, he had to make sure there wasn’t any blood in the elevator she’d escaped in. He didn’t think he’d hit her, but if he had, he needed to wipe up the evidence.

Hurrying out of his bathroom, he was relieved to find his office still empty. The head of security wouldn’t be in for another hour but he’d need to call him. First, he had another call to make. He grabbed one of his burner cell phones from a hidden compartment in his desk drawer. He glanced at the clock on his wall. He had maybe seven minutes left. At least it would take the police a few minutes to get upstairs once they made it to the building.

His contact picked up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Taylor Arenas is on her way to the police station. I need her to disappear quietly. It needs to look like she’s gone on the run. Ten thousand in your bank account today if you do it.” He was going to make sure that she died one way or another. Even if she went to the police, they’d believe him over her. They’d have to. And he’d make sure she ‘killed herself’ over her guilt from taking Hugh’s life. He just hoped it didn’t come to that. It’d be much easier if she simply disappeared.

“I’m on my way. What happens if I can’t get to her in time?”

“Make sure that you do.” Otherwise he was screwed. “Call me when it’s done.” He hung up and turned off the phone before tucking it into the bundle of clothes. He wouldn’t be using it again and would dispose of it along with his gun and clothes. Next he hurriedly got dressed in a spare set of clothes he kept at the office before grabbing Lysol wipes from the bathroom. If there was blood in the elevator he’d clean it. After that he’d call his head of security then go back to Hugh’s office. He needed to bend down near the body and act as if he’d given Hugh CPR, make sure the evidence proved that he was telling the truth.

Once he checked the elevator and found no blood, the weight on his shoulders lifted. If she hadn’t been shot, that made all this easier. It was a classic he-said, she-said situation. He had another throwaway gun he’d planned to leave next to Hugh’s body to make it look as if Hugh had shot Taylor if need be. But it didn’t look like that would be necessary.

Dragging in a deep breath, he realized he could still get away with this. He just needed to remain focused and make sure Taylor Arenas disappeared for good.

Chapter 2

Discomfort slid through Taylor’s side when she shifted slightly against the driver’s seat of Hugh’s vehicle. She thought she’d been shot a lot worse but now realized it was barely a graze. A strip of skin had been ripped away, but she was barely bleeding.

Not that she even cared. She just wanted to get the hell away from work and tell the police. She didn’t have any of her personal belongings with her, like her cell phone. No, unfortunately that was in her car. In the company parking garage. She’d been so damn terrified that Neal would catch up to her that she’d taken Hugh’s SUV since it had been right there when she’d exited the garage.

Programmed with fingerprint software, she’d been able to start it with her thumb print since he’d given her access to all his vehicles. She’d been driving for a couple minutes, but her hands were still shaky and her breathing choppy. Even though she had no control of it, she knew she was in a state of mild shock. She also knew that she had to call the police. She was only a few minutes away from the station anyway, but they needed to catch Neal before he escaped.

With a trembling hand, she pressed the OnStar call button on the rearview mirror. As soon as she told the system to call 9-1-1, some of her panic started to ebb.

She might not trust the police, but in a situation like this she knew they would help. Her mentor had been gunned down right in front of her and that bastard Neal was going to pay for what he’d done. Anger and grief battled inside her, each one wanting dominance. She let her rage take control, needing that emotion in charge because once she let herself grieve, she knew she’d be a useless wreck.

As soon as the 9-1-1 operator answered, asking what her emergency was, Taylor found her voice. “My boss has been shot. Killed. I just saw Neal Lynch murder Hugh Powers!” She didn’t mean to shout, but felt out of control, her entire body still shaking. She gave the address, her heart an erratic drumbeat in her chest. It was hard to breathe past the pain as she thought of Hugh slumping back against his desk, blood pooling everywhere.

“Take a deep breath ma’am. Who am I speaking to?”

“Taylor Arenas. I work at Powers Group.”

There was a slight pause. “What’s the name of the man you saw shot?”

“Hugh Powers. He’s in his office, on the top floor of the Powers Group building. That bastard Neal Lynch just shot him in cold blood.” Her stomach lurched as she remembered everything in vivid, Technicolor detail.

“Where are you now ma’am?”

“I’m on my way to the police station.”

“Why don’t you pull over and I’ll have an officer meet you?” The woman’s voice was calm, and she was sure the woman meant to be reassuring, but something about her tone rubbed Taylor the wrong way. She knew she was just being paranoid though. The woman only wanted to help.

“No, I’ll be there in like, two minutes. Look, who cares about an officer meeting me? Send someone to the Powers Group before Neal gets away!”

“Ma’am, we already have officers there. I need you to tell me exactly where you are.” Now her voice was forceful, demanding.

What the hell? Alarm bells dinged in Taylor’s head. She knew she was likely being paranoid but… She pressed the end button on the phone call. Why were officers already at the building? Someone would have had to call. And the building had been empty except for… Neal. Had he called? But why would he call for a crime he’d committed? Unless he was telling the cops she did it.

She shook her head. No, the evidence wouldn’t lie.

Frowning, she turned left into the parking lot of the local police station. Palm trees waved beautifully under the clear, blue sky. There should be dark, stormy clouds filling the sky, not beauty on a day like this. On a day one of the most important people in her life had died. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back.

She’d break down later. First she needed to talk to the police. The phone rang on the vehicle system, but she ignored it. Driving around the parking lot, she started to park in a spot on the front row but nearly crashed when she saw Gordon Simpson hovering near the front entrance. Wearing black pants and a long, black, dress shirt, he was smoking a cigarette and glancing around. Was he looking for her? If he was he’d probably be looking for her car. Unless he knew she’d taken Hugh’s vehicle…adrenaline punched through her as she gripped the wheel even tighter.

Simpson was part of the security team for the Powers Group and he sometimes worked closely with Neal. What was he doing here? Her heart rate kicked up a notch when he nodded at a man in a suit entering the building. The other man’s badge was clearly visible so he was a cop. Maybe a detective, given the attire. Had Neal sent Simpson here for her? That seemed so insane but she never would have imagined that Neal would shoot Hugh in cold blood, either.

Shifting against the seat, she took her pea coat off, groaning at the discomfort. There was a tear in her coat and her bloody blouse. Crimson stained the pale pink material. She ripped the side of her shirt open a little more to eye the wound fully. A strip of skin was gone, blood trickled down her side, and a dull throb pulsed from the gash. The bullet had literally skimmed her body.

She looked back up and saw Simpson still talking to the cop, laughing at something the man said. Making a split-second decision, she looked in the rearview mirror and reversed. She needed to get home, get the safe deposit key to her bank and retrieve the evidence she’d found regarding the Chemagan company. She’d show it to the police and explain everything that had happened this morning.

Her stepfather had been a cop—an asshole who’d used to shove her mother around until he’d finally killed her in a drunken rage—and Taylor knew how the system worked. Her mom had been murdered because of a department that looked the other way. Once she’d died they’d been all apologetic and talked about how no one had seen the signs, blah, blah blah. When she came to the police she needed irrefutable proof, especially since she wouldn’t put it above Neal to try and twist this whole situation, to frame her. He’d probably claim he shot her in self-defense. And it was clear he had contacts in the department. It turned her stomach.

By the time she made it to her condo complex, the adrenaline rush from earlier was fading. Her hands were clammy and her body was numb as she pulled into the parking lot. When she saw two uniformed police officers standing guard at the entrance, another spike of fear jagged through her like lightning. She kept driving as if she was looking for a parking spot and exited out another entrance.

In the five years since she’d lived here she’d never seen the police here once. No, they had to be here for her.

Which meant Neal had done something to set her up. No way was she getting arrested and railroaded. Shit, she needed to think, to clear her head and come up with a game plan. And she couldn’t do that here in Oceanside. She needed outside help. There weren’t many people she trusted, but her friend Vadim Sokolov in Vegas would be able to. And the drive wasn’t too far.

She turned onto the street and headed away from her building. As soon as she ditched Hugh’s SUV and found another vehicle, she’d be on her way. At least Hugh had a couple hundred bucks in his center console or she’d be totally screwed. It was good she didn’t have a phone though. No way to trace her.

* * *

Almost six hours later Taylor pulled up to Vadim’s house, dust from the long, dirt road behind her kicking up. He lived out in the desert, a good distance from any neighbors. The man was a loner. Or had been until recently when he’d gotten married. She’d hated that she hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding but at least she’d gotten to meet his new wife, a sweet, adorable woman aptly named Angel.