Dark Waters (2013) (5 page)

What the hell had Davis gotten mixed up with?

“
You need to get out of there until things quiet down. Dammit. I’ve done it again.
” He sounded like he was crying now and it was noisy as fuck in the background. Brent’s fists clenched. “
I love you and I’m sorry for everything. There’s only one person I trust besides you, you know that, right? Go to him, tonight. Tell him I’m cashing in those promises we made one another.
”

Shit—anyone else he’d have told to go to hell, but
Davis
? He cleared his throat. “Any idea what he was talking about?”

Huge shadowed eyes met his and she shook her head.

“And he’s definitely dead?” The words sounded callous and harsh, spat out into the quiet room.

She swallowed twice before she answered. “Cops said he fell under a train at a subway station. Someone said they thought he
was being chased.” A glistening streak bisected one cheek, but he’d never have known she was crying from her rock-steady voice.

He went over and grabbed his cell. “Play it again.”

Her lips tightened but she did as he asked. He recorded the message, then took the cell out of her hand and pulled out the SIM card. He strode over to the kitchen sink and ran the card through the garbage disposal.

She made a sound like a strangled warthog. “What the hell?”

“Until we figure this out, it’s better if the bad guys can’t track you. I’ll buy you a new phone. Does anyone else know you’re here?”

She shook her head and wrapped her arms tight around her waist.

“Did you use your credit or debit cards anywhere?”

“Only to book my flight to Vancouver. After that I paid cash.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone where you were going? You’re sure of it?”

“No one in the world knows I’m here.”

Brent blinked as she bolted for the door.
What the…?
He went after her. Slapped his hand on the solid wood when she tried to wrench it open.

“Leave me alone!” She frantically tugged on the doorknob.

“Jesus, lady, calm down.” Hysterical females were not his thing. She was stronger than she looked and he had to put some effort into keeping the door shut. But her eyes held raw panic that told him she was genuinely terrified he might hurt her. And she should be—she should be scared of a man with his reputation. She yanked so hard on the door handle he budged an inch. Not bad, considering he weighed at least a hundred pounds more than she did and was probably a good foot taller. He wanted to ease away but knew if he did, she’d run into the wilderness at night where anything could happen to her, and this wasn’t just some anonymous stranger—this was Davis’s daughter. He was stuck and he was pissed. He didn’t placate, he didn’t soothe. But he did keep his word.

“I can’t believe I listened to anything Dad said—”

“Why wouldn’t you listen to him?”

Eyes flashed. “My father was a liar and a thief who never gave a damn about how his actions affected others.”

“Are you fucking nuts? The guy was set up.”

“Oh, please.” She stopped tugging long enough to argue with him. That figured. “He stole a million dollars and got caught and never had the guts to own up to it.”

“You’re wrong.” Anger had him gritting his teeth. He gripped her shoulder, applying enough pressure to make her stop fighting with the damn doorknob. She quivered under his fingertips. Davis had asked him to keep her safe. He wouldn’t let the man down. “You’re the only thing he ever truly cared about.”

“Well, he had a funny way of showing it.”

The scent of her engulfed him and those huge frantic eyes made him want to tell her everything was going to be all right. But her dad was dead and he knew from experience it would never be all right again.

The two of them stood close in the darkness. Too close. The hollows of her collarbone and graceful line of her neck called to something primitive inside him, and he had to force himself not to react. She’d grown from the pretty teen he’d seen in photographs into a pretty woman—maybe even beautiful. But her oval face was punctuated by that stubborn jaw that would have told him she’d be trouble even if she hadn’t landed in his lap in the middle of the night. Harsh gasps made her breasts stretch the thin fabric of her shirt, but as her expression once again morphed into fear, he worked very hard not to notice.

Fear wasn’t the same as weakness. Everyone in jail was intimately acquainted with the difference.

“Look.” He held his hands aloft and stepped back. “You can leave any time you want. I don’t want you here any more than you want to be here,
but
…” Her bottom lip stuck out just enough to set off a chain reaction in his body that ended at his dick.
Off-limits,
partner
. “Your dad was the only friend I had in prison and more like a father than my own.”

Maybe now wasn’t the time to bring up his biological father. There were bad people in the world, and closing your eyes and pretending they didn’t exist was for fools and children. Judging from Anna Silver’s expression, she already knew that. Unfortunately she was more scared of him than the guys who’d gotten her dad killed. He had to change that if he was going to help her.

“I’m not going to hurt you. You’ve been traveling for hours. You’re tired.” Christ, he wasn’t good at this shit. He went and grabbed his handgun and pressed it into her palms. She flinched. “It’s loaded. Do
not
shoot me. This should make you feel safe enough to rest until we figure out what the hell he was into.”

Her mouth dropped open and he tipped up her chin to close it. There was a weird kick in his gut from the physical connection. When was the last time he’d touched another human being that didn’t involve handcuffs?

Forget it. Not important.

“There’re spare bedrooms upstairs, take the first on the right. Stick a dresser in front of the door if you need to, get some sleep. But do me a favor—do not call anyone. Don’t e-mail anyone. Definitely don’t use your credit card in town. We’ll figure out this mess in the morning.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” She took a step back and weighed the gun with both hands. It was his turn to sweat.

“Hell, I didn’t say you should trust me. But I’m wealthy enough that I don’t need to sell you out to the bad guys.” He grimaced. “A bonus in my circles, believe me.”

He turned away from the overemotional female who’d invaded his space. She looked deceptively slight, but was as thorny as a blackberry briar. He didn’t want her here. No one stayed in his house. Except Davis, who’d come to visit most summers and had been one of the few people Brent could tolerate for more than thirty seconds at a time. Not even Gina had stayed more than a
few hours before he’d sent her away.
Christ
. He closed his eyes, wishing he could turn back the clock and change things, knowing it was futile.

Since Gina’s murder he’d lost his faith in knowing who he was. He just knew he wasn’t the heartless bastard he tried so hard to portray. He couldn’t chase this woman off until he’d figured out whether or not she was in real danger. But she sure as hell couldn’t stay here without him going bat-shit crazy.

Davis had sounded genuinely terrified in that message and now he was dead. If it were a coincidence, the timing
sucked
.

He opened the door.

“Where’re you going?” she asked, suspicion loaded into every syllable.

“To make sure the rowboat you borrowed gets back safely to the right dock and no one suspects you’re here. You have a rental car?”

She shook her head. “I stayed at my mom’s house in Victoria and borrowed her VW to drive up here. I left it outside the bar. My bag’s in the trunk.”

His brows rose in question.

“I didn’t talk to her. Mom,” she clarified. “She and my stepfather are on a cruise to Alaska. I left a message on her voice mail to tell her about Dad.”

Now that was cold.

She grimaced. “Told her I’d make the arrangements and come home soon for a visit. She won’t miss her car for at least a week.”

He held out his hand for the keys.

She went back to her bag, dug them out, and dropped them into his palm. “Don’t ditch it in the sea.”

He laughed, which felt strange. “I have a garage on the other side of the inlet. I’ll squeeze your car next to my truck.” Staring at her in the darkness was like remembering a dream. “I’m sorry about your daddy, Anna,” he said softly. “He was a good man.”

She caught his hand and he jolted, the coldness of her skin at odds with the heat of the connection.

“Not many people thought so.” She squeezed, then let go. Then her face started to crumple—from exhaustion or tears he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to stick around to find out.

He went out the back door and headed down to his motorboat. The moon hung high above the water of his little bay, constant, and yet never the same. A big old spotlight for trouble.

Well, trouble had come to this cove many times before and he was still standing. But life was a damn sight easier to deal with when you only had yourself to worry about. He looked back at his house, and saw a light go on upstairs as he started the motor on his boat.

Anna Silver.

A complication he didn’t need.

The sooner he got rid of her, the better.

More than twenty-four hours and the woman was still in the wind. Rand had driven to Minneapolis to search her place. Photos showed a dark-haired, pretty little thing. Pity she hadn’t stuck around. She could have entertained him while they waited for the mailman. Now he was back in Chicago with the rest of the team, hunkered down in the boss’s office for a crisis meeting. Rand didn’t remember a time that a crisis hadn’t involved automatic gunfire and fucked-up intel.

“Did you track her phone yet?” Hank Browning was the top guy—on paper at least. The gray-haired, stocky individual was the figurehead of the charity, a former general, ex–Special Forces soldier who’d paid his dues in the jungles of Colombia. His reputation was akin to that of the drug lords he’d targeted and he’d earned every bit of it. Bobby Petrie sat at a desk with four monitors all flashing information at him. Pretty boy Petrie was their IT guy, a whiz at hacking communication systems and moving money, but an irritating little shit when things didn’t go his way. Kudrow managed operations, domestic and international, from home base
here in Chicago. Rand was the leader on the ground—Vic and Marco, his foot soldiers.

They were a tight group—considering their occupation, they had to be. And, with the exception of Petrie, they’d worked together for nearly two decades, serving in three wars and countless conflicts in the venerable US Army. These men were as close to family as Rand was ever going to get.

“I’m trying to locate it,” Petrie repeated between gritted teeth. “If these guys gave me some space, I might have more success. You try cracking this shit with some asshole breathing down your neck.”

Kudrow hauled their resident geek to his feet by a fistful of shirt and hoisted him until they were nose-to-nose. “We’re not the ones who lost the money,
asshole
.” He flung him away like a rag doll.

“And I’m not the one who lost Davis Silver.” From where he was sprawled on the floor, Petrie shot Rand and Marco a sneer.

Kudrow swung his rage in Rand’s direction, but Rand didn’t let his expression change. It was a game of chicken, and if he blinked, he lost. He never lost.

After a long moment, Kudrow pressed his lips together and visibly checked his anger.

“Think Davis planned this?” Rand asked.

Kudrow shook his head. “We had someone go through his personal effects at the morgue. No envelope. Just a photo of his daughter and directions to the nearest FBI field office. We’re fucking lucky he didn’t get there.”

Petrie turned back to his screens. The General pinched the bridge of his nose, then said, “His phone message said he mailed those account details to his daughter.”

The old man was starting to panic. He’d lost his edge, which was a damn shame for someone who’d been such an inspirational soldier. When the General had retired from the army six years ago, he’d been asked to do a little side work by some friends on
Capitol Hill and, using the charity as a smoke screen, they’d all done very well for themselves. Or had. Until Davis had ripped them off.

Rand hated anyone getting the better of him.

“We’ll keep checking the mail at her place and his place. As soon as that envelope arrives, we grab it. Done deal.” Kudrow tried to reassure them all.

“I just want to retire with my wife to fucking Florida. Is that too much to ask?” The General paced behind his desk. “If the cops believe this guy’s story and start an investigation, this whole organization falls apart.”

“Not if we don’t report the theft,” Rand spoke up. He widened his stance, folded his arms over his chest. “With no crime to investigate, the cops will lose interest. All the legitimate donations to the charity are intact.” Petrie had covered the trail of the laundered money, which was what he’d been doing when Davis Silver had spotted his access codes being used. They should have made sure he’d gone home like all the other drones. They’d gotten sloppy and now they were paying the price.