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Authors: Cynthia Eden

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BOOK: Deadly Lies
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A caravan of FBI agents and cops raced toward Frank Malone’s residence. Going as fast as they could, shooting through intersections,
racing over the streets.

“Why?” Max finally asked. It was the first word that he’d spoken since jumping into the SUV. “Why would Beth try to kill me?”

Money.

“The way I see it,” Hyde said, “you’re the only person standing between Beth’s lover and one hell of a lot of money.”

Sam glanced back at him and saw Max’s jaw tighten.

“Why’d she go after Scott Jacobson then?” he demanded. “He wasn’t standing between her and anything!”

“That’s a question I’m going to ask her.” The caravan made a sharp right turn. Hyde drove behind the lead car. “As soon as
I have your stepfather’s assistant in custody.”

She’d been a fighter. Quinlan stared down at Beth’s still body as he stripped off his clothes. She hadn’t gone down easy.
Beth had fought for every breath.

Not that he’d given her much time to fight.

Naked, he stalked toward Frank’s hidden safe. Still hidden—he’d made sure not to reveal its location as he trashed the room.
The safe would make the perfect hiding place for his bloody clothes. No one would get inside for a while. His father had made
sure to get a crack-proof safe.

But his father had made the mistake of giving Beth the combination.

Quinlan spun the dial easily and heard the soft snick as the lock opened.

And Beth gave it to me.

He shoved his clothes inside. He’d come back for them later, and he’d burn them. For now, he had to get clean, fast, before
the cops showed up.

Thanks to Beth, Quinlan knew they’d be coming. The cops and the dicks from the FBI.

He stepped over Beth’s body. She’d fucked things for him, but he could still finish his plan.
Would
finish. Nothing, no one, would stop him.

If anyone tried, they’d die.

“Do you think she was part of it all along?” Max wanted to know. “Was she part of this whole sick plan to kidnap them? To
take Quinlan?”

Sam wet her lips. The seatbelt bit into her shoulder, rubbing against the same bruised spot that had crashed into the pavement.
“Too early to say.”

God, I nearly lost him.
She hadn’t been able to move fast enough. Hadn’t been able to get to him. As soon as she’d found out about Jacobson, she’d
been terrified for Max. Then she’d heard that peal of sound. Just a cell phone, just a ring…

But Ramirez had told her about his time in the Middle East: how so many bombs were linked to cell phones. One call and the
world exploded, thanks to an electronic trigger.

If Sam hadn’t heard that stupid little sound…

I would have lost Max.
She’d never forget the sight of
him, his eyes intense as he stared at her and fire exploded behind him.

Sam swallowed. Before, she’d feared for her own life. Feared death would come for her—and then that it wouldn’t. But tonight,
she’d feared for Max.

Just when she thought that she might be getting a handle on this case, the game changed.
Scott Jacobson. Dead? Christ.
The guy had come back because he thought that it was safe. He’d been coming to talk to them.

It seemed to take forever to reach the house. Traffic blocked them, and they had to take a detour away from the snarled roads.
Then, finally, they reached Malone’s place with brakes squealing and sirens shrieking. And there was Quinlan, standing outside
of the house. He was already surrounded by the other agents that Hyde had sent earlier, as well as the team from the bomb
squad.

“Quinlan!” Max jumped out of the SUV even before it had fully stopped. He thundered toward his brother. “Dammit, man, where
have you been?”

Quinlan blinked and shook his head. Sam hurried toward them even as Hyde barked orders to his men.

“I-I had to clear my head.” Quinlan slammed his car door shut behind him. “After the station…” His gaze swept to Sam. “They
thought it was
me
, Max.
Me.
I just had to—to get away, you know?”

Max pulled his brother close in a hard hug. “We got trouble, okay? When you saw me call, you should have answered the damn
phone.” He stepped back, glaring. “After all that’s happened, you should have—”

“My phone’s dead.” Quinlan shifted from his right foot to his left. “With everything going on, shit, I just forgot to
charge it. I saw the shrink this morning. He’s putting me on more meds—”

“Mr. Malone.” Hyde’s voice cut through the ramble of Quinlan’s words. “Have you seen Elizabeth Dunlap today?”

“Beth?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Uh, not since this morning, before I-I went in to your office.”

But the BMW was there, sitting in the drive.

“Have you been inside yet?” Sam asked him as she pulled out her gun. Hyde already had his weapon ready in his hand.

Quinlan shook his head.

“We’re going in the house to search for her.” Hyde was telling Quinlan to stand back.

“I’m coming with you,” Max said immediately.

“Son, this isn’t—”

“Right now, that house is
mine.

Quinlan’s gaze flickered to Max. Sam saw the slight tightening of his eyes.

“Maybe so, but we’ve got just cause, and you’re both staying out here.” Hyde inclined his head toward Max. “We all know what
happened the last time a civilian went running into a crime scene.”

Quinlan stepped back. “A… crime scene?”

Max held Hyde’s stare. She could see the fierce anger in his blue gaze.

But Hyde wasn’t backing down. This was
his
scene. And after a moment, her boss spun away, shouting out orders as the agents lined up.

Sam turned to follow him. Max snagged her wrist. “Watch your back, baby.” A gruff order.

She forced a smile to her lips. “These days, I always
do.” She wanted to kiss him right then because fear rode her, too. Fear and rage, and she needed to taste him. They were alive.
Nothing was going to come between them. Not now.

But Quinlan was there and watching so closely. And Hyde waited. So she walked away.

When the team went in, she was ready. Her fingers curled tight around the butt of the gun. She kept her weapon up, and her
gaze roved the house.

First floor—
clear.

She crept up the stairs, keeping her back to the wall. Hyde was in front of her. Their steps moved in almost perfect sync.
He called out for Beth.

No response. But then, had they really expected one?

The team made a fast trek down the hallway. Sam pointed to Beth’s room. She’d go in first this time. One, two,
three.
The door flew open with the force of her kick.

Empty.

The agents spanned out. Searched the rooms. No one appeared to be in the house. Where was everybody? Wasn’t Quinlan supposed
to have guards?

Too
quiet.

The door to Frank’s room was closed. Sam stared down at the thick carpet around the door, and her nostrils flared. That scent…
oh, dammit, she knew that smell.


Hyde.
” Just a whisper, but his head immediately turned toward her. He took two fast steps her way, then she saw his nostrils widen.
His jaw clenched. Yes, he’d caught that telltale odor too.

Hyde raised his hand, signaling her. He’d go in first.

She’d cover him. Her heart slammed into her ribs.
One. Two. Three.

Hyde kicked the door open. It bounced back, thudding into the wall. He raced inside, crouched low, and Sam swept right in
behind him, her body tense, and her weapon ready. Her gaze searched the room, left to right, and her breath hitched when she
saw the body.

“Check the room!” Hyde barked as he knelt beside Beth Dunlap.

Sam pulled her gaze from the body and hurried forward. She checked under the bed. Did a sweep of the closets and bathroom.
“Clear!” She hurried back to him, already yanking out her radio and calling for backup—backup and an EMT. Though it didn’t
look like an EMT would be able to help Beth.

Elizabeth Dunlap lay in the middle of chaos. Shattered furniture. Slashed pictures. A broken mirror littered the floor beside
her and her fingertips lay inches away from a long, bloody shard of glass.

Beth’s eyes were closed, but the blood from the gaping wounds on both her wrists stained the floor. So
much blood.

Hyde’s dark fingers pressed against Beth’s stark white throat. “Dammit.” He shook his head and rose, staring down at her with
shoulders that hunched just a bit. “This wasn’t the way it had to end for her.” His hands tightened into fists. “Death isn’t
the only way out.”

Max paced behind the police cruiser. He wanted
in
that house. Wanted to know what the hell was going on.

Quinlan sat on the hood of a patrol car, his gaze on the house. “What’s taking them so long?”

They’d only been inside mere moments, but it seemed like for-fucking-ever. Max forced his teeth to unclench.
“They’re searching for Beth. They have to go over every inch of the house.”

“Man, she really tried to
kill
you?” Quinlan ran a hand over his face. “
Beth?

“That’s what the Feds say.” He hadn’t seen the footage, but Hyde had been dead certain.

“Aw, man.” Quinlan lowered his head. “What the hell is going on? Nothing seems right anymore. Everything is just so screwed
up.” A shuddering breath eased from him. “
Beth.

He stared at Quinlan’s slumped shoulders. They hadn’t talked much since Quinlan had gotten out of the hospital. Every time
he approached him, Quinlan seemed to withdraw. “Are you okay?”

Quinlan’s head lifted, and his gaze met Max’s. “I’m gettin’ by.” His lips twisted, and it was a sad sight. “Just when I think
everything’s gettin’ back to normal.” A harsh laugh. “But it’ll never be normal again, will it?”

No. Max wouldn’t lie to him.

“How did you do it?” Quinlan asked as he moved away from the cop car. Max caught the slight wince on his stepbrother’s face
and knew that the stitches must have been pulling at his skin. “After you killed that guy, how’d you stop the memory from
driving you crazy?”

Max tensed. “What are you talking about?” He’d never told Quinlan. There’d never been a need. Frank had made sure his records
were sealed. No one in this town—other than the Feds storming his stepfather’s house—knew about his past.

Quinlan crept closer. “I know. I
know
. Frank told me about you years ago.”

“He shouldn’t have said anything.”

“He thought you were a damn hero.” Max glanced over and caught the narrowing of Quinlan’s eyes. “You killed a man, and he
thought you were a hero. Wonder what he’d think of me?”

Max just stared at him.

“No hero.” Quinlan’s hand bunched into a fist. “So what the hell kind of man am I?”

Max tried to figure out what to say.

“Max!” He turned at Samantha’s voice. She ran toward him, her face pale. She dodged a few cops. Slipped past the line of cars.

He left Quinlan and hurried to her. Max caught Samantha’s hands and held on tight. “What is it? What happened?”

Her gaze darted behind him. He glanced back. Quinlan was there and moving slowly toward them. “I’m sorry,” she said, and the
words were directed at Quinlan. “But Beth Dunlap is dead.”

Quinlan froze. “
What?

Dead? “What happened?” Max asked. He hadn’t heard any gunshots after the agents went inside.

“It appears that Beth went to your father’s room and killed herself.” Samantha paused. Her gaze was still on Quinlan. “She
slit her wrists and died at the foot of his bed.”

CHAPTER
Fifteen

W
hen the knock came at his apartment door, Max hurried forward, rubbing grainy eyes. He pulled open the door and found Nathan
Donnelley waiting for him.

The doctor had a small black bag in his right hand. So damn typical. “I called you an hour ago,” Max said.

Donnelley grunted as he came inside. “Do I need to remind you that I don’t work for you or your family any longer?”

“Since when? Dammit, Donnelley, you were Frank’s private doctor for years. And you just what—walked away?”

“Frank was dead.” Donnelley shrugged. “Therefore I wasn’t needed any longer.”

Max grabbed the man’s arm and dragged him over the threshold. “You’re needed now.” Max slammed the door shut behind him. “Beth’s
dead.”

“I know.” Flat. “I heard the report on the news.”

Right. Hell, everyone knew. “I need you to check
on Quinlan, okay? He’s too quiet. Shit, I’m worried about him.”

Donnelley’s green eyes raked him. “What is it you want me to do?”


Check him.
I don’t know; go do whatever it is that doctors do when patients are about to break down.” Helpless, yeah, that’s what Max
was, and he hated it. “Just make him better.”

That cold, clinical stare pinned him. “You know as well as I do that sometimes, you can’t make people better.”

Because Donnelley had been there when Max’s mother died.

“But I’ll talk to him and see what I can do.” Donnelley brushed by him. “Which room is he in?”

“Down the hall. Second door.” Max exhaled. “Just so damn much,” he muttered. “Every day, something new. I thought this mess
was over.”

“I’m sure it will be over,” Donnelly said, not glancing back. “Soon.”

A soft knock rapped on her office door. Sam glanced up, her mind still on the data that she’d retrieved, and mumbled, “Come
in.”

The door opened, and Kim Daniels stood there with her eyes glinting. “I need you to come with me, Sam.”

Sam shut off the screen in front of her, automatically hiding the text. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the clock: 8:12
p.m. “Okay, just let me finish up…” She’d hacked her way into Nathan Donnelley’s personal bank account and found out that
the man had barely a thousand dollars in his savings. Since the doc drove a top-of-the-line Benz and flashed a Rolex—yeah,
she’d caught
sight of that watch—the lack of money set off red flags in her mind.

“Hyde needs us all in his office. The ME finished working on Dunlap, and Hyde wants to go over the report.”

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