Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (11 page)

Connor stared up what was left of the stairs. “He did store things up there. He's a collector, so who knows what he's stashed and where.”

“We need to pin something down,” Josie replied.

Connor ticked off the obvious. “They came after Armond by killing Lewanna first. Remember, they sent Lewanna a letter.”

Josie pointed the flashlight's beam up high. “Yes. We turned that over to Sherwood already, but nothing to go on there yet. So Armond overstepped his boundaries or, at the very least, made someone very angry.”

“Yes, then they tried to kill Armond again at the hotel, which was supposed to be a safe house.”

“True. And then they came after us at Mama Joe's. But why? Do they think you have what they're looking for?”

“Or maybe they want both of us out of the way,” Connor replied. “If Lou had wanted us dead, he would have killed us tonight. I think he needed us alive. He did try to take you with him.”

“That man's too caught up in being an Armond to let anyone live,” Josie said. “I took him down with an elbow and a swift kick, but I still believe he could be very dangerous.”

“Yeah, he's led the good life for so long he's definitely out of shape. And apparently out of the loop. Not knowing can certainly make a man do crazy things.”

“Do you think he's the silent partner no one knows about? Maybe his daddy did something Lou didn't approve of, based on that cryptic note Lewanna received.”

Connor shook his head. “Armond wouldn't make Lou his partner. I'm thinking this partner is feeling the heat, so he wants Armond out of the picture. He's probably been playing Armond, stringing him along until the perfect opportunity presents itself.”

Josie lifted the flashlight again. “Keep your enemies close and pretend to not know anything?”

“Possibly. Maybe the partner knows Armond has another son somewhere out there and he's planning to use that information.”

She shrugged and flicked the light again. “Back to you thinking like a criminal. If you were a bad guy—which you are not now, thankfully—where would you hide something important? I mean something maybe with historical or artistic value? Or possibly an incriminating value. Or maybe even both.”

Connor didn't understand where she was coming from at first, but then it hit him. “Or what if you were trying to hide something very secretive and extremely damaging
inside
an artifact or piece of art?”

“Now, that's thinking like a criminal,” Josie said, all smiles. “And that's smart.”

“We need to find a way upstairs,” he replied.

She moved a step forward at the same time Connor did, and they collided in the only open path left in the charred and melted garage.

Connor caught her against him, his eyes meeting hers as she stumbled into his arms. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his lips so close to hers he could see the sweet pink of her lip gloss in the growing morning light.

“That's okay.” She tried to move but somehow wound up tripping over a fallen beam.

Connor caught her again, and this time he didn't let her go. “Josie...”

She gave a little moan and then their lips were together, exploring and experimenting. Around them, the smell of burned wood and melted metal permeated the air. But here, with her in his arms, Connor smelled what was left of the clean scent of her hair and the faint hint of her spicy shower gel and shampoo.

After a minute or two, he lifted his head and held his forehead to hers. “Why is it, Agent Gilbert, that being in tight spots with you seems to bring out all my romantic notions?”

Josie's eyes burned an amber-gold. “I...I don't know. I can't explain it. Maybe the danger. Is that intoxicating for you?”

“No, but you are,” he said, his hand moving down her soft, sooty cheek. “You do things to me, Josie. When that idiot Lou had that gun to your head, I...I couldn't breathe. I wanted to hurt him in slow, torturous ways.”

“Guns are scary that way.”

“But you were as cool as a Popsicle.”

“A Popsicle? Seriously?”

“Icy and bright and...I don't know. I don't know how to describe it.”

She held her free hand on his shoulder. “I was anything but cool, trust me. But I had to think of how to get us all out of there alive.”

“Do you think Lou would have killed us?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“I lost a few heartbeats when he had his hands on you.”

“And here I thought you were the cool customer.”

“I used to be,” he admitted. “But that was before I had a change of heart. And that was before I met you.”

“I need you to stay cool, Connor,” she said. “I need you to keep thinking with that ruthlessness you've always had. If you go soft on me now, we could both wind up dead.”

“I'm not going soft,” he replied, his heart beating with a new strength. “Except when I kiss you.”

He kissed her again. But a ping of a shoe hitting concrete in the back of the garage brought them apart. Taking Josie by the hand, he pulled her behind a collapsed wall.

“I don't think we're alone anymore.”

Josie nodded, then looked around for an escape. “Here we go again. Will this night ever be over?”

THIRTEEN

“S
hh.”

Connor put a finger to his lips.

Josie drew her gun, but held her breath. Who could be snooping around now? The FBI and the ATF had posted guards all over the property and the sheriff's department had patrol cars roaming the roads and woods. Everyone wanted a piece of the Armond case, so all of the local agencies were cooperating on this one.

Connor lifted his head a notch so he could see between two burned-out, wet beams. He held up one finger.

Josie tried to speak. “One man?”

“Yes.” He squinted again, then turned to her. “It's Sherwood.”

“My SAC?”

Connor's right eyebrow twitched. “Can we trust him, Josie?”

“Of course.” But even as she said it, she had to wonder. No, that was crazy. Sherwood was a staunch family man who'd dedicated his life to the FBI, and he'd been trying to pin something on Louis Armond long before she arrived on the scene. The man had spent most of his career trying to bring down the Mafia lord.

“We need to alert him that we're here,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

That little trickle of doubt dripped down her spine. “We can't hide from the man. We're checking the scene of the fire.”

Connor's brow furrowed. “Whatever you say, but I'll be watching him. In my mind, everyone is a suspect.”

“Yeah, well, in the eyes of the law, we're all innocent until proven guilty.”

“Who's there?”

Josie heard Sherwood's gruff call. Too late to change her mind now. “It's me, sir. Gilbert. Connor Randall is with me.”

“Come on out where I can see you.”

Josie motioned to Connor, then proceeded with her gun down. When she came around the collapsed wall, Sherwood was standing with his gun drawn.

“Sir?”

He lowered the gun and let out a breath of relief. “Thought I was a goner for a minute there.” Keeping his weapon aimed down, he stepped over old tires and an overturned toolbox. “You two still hanging around?”

“We wanted to do one more search,” Josie explained. “Vanessa Armond was definitely looking for something in here.”

Sherwood took off his FBI ball cap and scratched his head. “Gilbert, you never give up, do you? We had a team of experts from three different law-enforcement offices in here, and they only found what you see—a burned-up building with a lot of automotive junk in it.” He pointed toward the big window. “Someone threw the accelerant through that window, so we know it was arson. I'm liking Vanessa Armond for it. She had means and she had motive. She's a woman scorned, and now word is out that her husband's mistress was murdered. She came back for revenge and made it look like she was trapped when she saw you.”

“Maybe what Vanessa was looking for is in one of the vehicles you confiscated,” Connor suggested, his gaze cutting toward Sherwood. For someone who'd been shot, his mobility in both arms was remarkable.

“Thanks for that expert assumption, Randall,” Sherwood drawled. “But you two have gone off on one too many wild-goose chases over the past few days. I think we need to regroup and get back on track. Your reports still have a few holes to fill.”

“What is our track?” Josie asked, wondering why he had come back to the garage. “Did you find out anything else that we need to know?”

“Nope, not a thing. I just wanted to have one more look myself. Too many people hanging around this place. Like you, I figured something important must be hidden here.”

“All kinds of places to hide things,” Connor said, walking around, his head up. “Those stairs had to lead to somewhere.”

“Not anymore,” Sherwood said. “Interesting that the fire was set very near that upstairs apartment.”

“The hired help did stay out here,” Josie said, giving Connor a quick glance. She should have gone up there first thing, but the whole place was a safety hazard.

“But why would the hired help hide something important to the Armonds?” Connor kept his eyes on Sherwood.

“Employees have been known to go off the grid, Randall,” the older man said, his gray eyes turning crystal. “You should know all about that.”

“I've been paying my dues to the FBI,” Connor retorted. “I only went off the grid this time to find out who's trying to kill Armond. I've been undercover with the man for a while now. Or at least I was until that night of the Benoit heist.”

“A failed heist,” Sherwood reminded him. “But hey, you did find three canvases worth millions of dollars.” Then he asked, “Do you have any suspects you'd like to share?”

Josie watched as this showdown became more aggressive. Getting between the two men, she put up a hand. “We know Armond is a criminal, but we have to have proof of that, and so far, we don't have anything on him except possibly the murder of his mistress and the cash and invoices. But his wife and son are hiding something, and they did hold us at gunpoint. We need to find out what that something is.”

“We're all in danger,” Connor said. “We can't stop now. And you can't hold the Armonds for long.”

“Louis is still in and out of consciousness,” Sherwood said. He tramped around debris so he could move closer but Josie noticed his gaze darting here and there. “The wife and son have lawyered up enough that they'll probably get away with a slap on the hand for holding y'all. Beaux Perot, however, has been a wealth of information. He might become our strongest witness.”

“That's good,” Josie replied. “I'd love a go at him. Beaux seems like a good man caught in a bad situation.”

“Good men have been known to go bad,” Sherwood said, his hostile gaze settling on Connor. “I think we need to get back to town. Need a lift?”

“No, we have a car,” Connor said before Josie could respond.

Okay. Why did he say that? Beaux had brought them out in his SUV. It had gone back to the city for a thorough inspection.

“We'll be along shortly, sir,” she said. “Mind if we have one last look around?”

“Not at all,” Sherwood said, his expression edged with distaste. “Just don't do anything stupid, Gilbert. You're still a probbie in my mind.”

“Yes, sir.” She watched him go, then when he was out of sight, she turned to Connor. “What was that all about?”

“We need to do one more search,” Connor said on a low breath. “I've learned to read people and, Josie, I'm telling you, something is off with your boss.”

“You're imagining things,” she retorted on a curt whisper. “And I'm in enough trouble. Let's look around, then get out of here.” She whirled. “Oh, wait. We don't have a car, do we?”

“Actually, I know where Armond keeps another garage,” Connor said. “And I know a car that will get us back to town in a hurry.”

“You've been holding out on me,” she said as they retraced their steps and peered into the daylight filtering through the gaping hole in the roof. And she had to wonder, what else was he hiding?

“No, I think I mentioned it in passing. He has lots of outbuildings around here. But this is a small wooden shed, not what I'd call a garage.”

“Right.” Josie lifted tools and shuffled through old rags before opening toolboxes and hardware drawers. Nothing stood out. But this place was like a giant cave, and the upstairs rooms were completely cut off and burned out.

Then they both turned to each other. “Another garage.”

“Armond has another garage,” Connor said, his eyes wide.

“And maybe, just maybe, that's where he's hiding the something we're all looking for. Lead the way, please.”

Josie made a production of bowing and holding her arm out. But she had to wonder why Connor had just now remembered such a vital piece of information.

* * *

“Great, more swamp.”

Josie's boots slushed through the dark, rich loam as she batted away both bugs and palmetto leaves. “I'm beginning to hate Louisiana.”

“More than Texas?”

She ignored that baited question. “I loved Texas. I mean, I grew up there.”

“Now we're getting somewhere,” Connor replied. He stomped ahead of her, using a big stick he'd found from a fallen branch to hit at possible poisonous snakes. “So you're a Texas native.”

“Born and bred.” She stopped to take a breath and to carefully measure her answers. “My father moved among the upper crust of Houston. He also took a lot of their money.” She shrugged and pushed at her damp hair. “I think that's why my mother left Texas. She couldn't take the pain of her friends abandoning her.”

Nor the pain of her daughter's judgment and scorn,
Josie thought.

Connor knocked down a twisted vine. “Do you ever visit your father in prison?”

“I haven't in a while. We don't have much to talk about.”

She thought about Dallas and the undercover operation that had gone bad. She couldn't afford to mess up this time. She'd wind up old and alone like her mother.

“There it is,” Connor said, turning to help her the last few feet.

“That's a garage?”

The old lean-to looked as if it might fall over if they touched it. “There's a car in there?”

“Armond is a man of many surprises.” Connor moved through the bramble toward the building. “He liked to hide things in odd places, which is probably why we can't find anything interesting around the house or the big garage.”

“And you just happen to know about this car?”

“He showed it to me once when he was in a melancholy mood. This was his first car.”

Josie glanced around to make sure they didn't get picked up by a sheriff's deputy. “Why haven't you mentioned this earlier?”

Connor cut his gaze to her. “Are you curious or are you interrogating me for a reason?”

“It's just odd that we've spent most of the night trying to find something in the big fancy garage when you knew about this one all along.”

Connor stopped to give her a harsh stare. “Hey, we've been kind of busy for the past few days and we only realized something might be hidden in the garage after Beaux mentioned it and then you saved Vanessa Armond, remember? So we focused on that garage. Or do you still not trust me? Josie?”

Josie let out a sigh and then grunted out her frustration. “Okay, all right. We'll talk about all of it on the way into town after we've searched every inch of this place. Let's hope we find something to give us a clue and let's hope this vehicle will crank.”

Connor opened the rickety old door and set it back against some shrub oaks. Inside the dark interior, Josie heard a scuffling.

“Rats or nutria,” Connor warned. “Nasty creatures.”

“Thanks for telling me that,” she replied with a grimace. “What else could be in here?”

He tapped the dirt floors with the rickety limb. “Snakes, of course. Spiders.”

The vehicle was covered in a heavy gray canvas. Connor tossed her the stick and then pulled the cover off the car.

She let out a gasp this time. “A '63 Camaro.”

“A Z-28, at that.”

“Can you drive this thing?”

“Of course I can. Armond let me take it for a spin back when we got so buddy-buddy.”

“Let's search it first.”

While they checked over the car, she wondered just how buddy-buddy he and Armond had gotten. Armond had called on Connor to help him out of a big jam, but that had been more like a summons—as in flesh owed him. She really wanted to figure out the dynamics of that relationship. It sure seemed mighty convenient that Connor had been on the scene just in time to help Armond. Coincidence or part of the plan? This case didn't make a bit of sense, and her gut kept reminding her that Connor was still caught between two worlds. Which route would he really take when push came to shove?

After a half hour or so, Connor came around to the driver's side. “Nothing. This car is clean as a whistle, if you ignore the pollen and dust.”

Josie leaned in one more time. “Just an old necklace.”

Connor looked at the gold coin dangling on an old chain over the rearview mirror. “Yeah. I don't remember that being there, but Armond has a thing for gold.”

“I noticed that in his furnishings.”

“Let's go.” He got in and waited for her. “I'll check out the coin later.”

Josie slid into the low black leather seat. “Does it have gas?”

“We'll see.”

Connor did a little hot-wiring and cranked the car. The engine purred like a contented tiger. “Plenty of fuel. He kept it full and usually he'd sneak out about once a week and give it a spin around the country roads. Said this was his guilty pleasure. We laughed a lot that day.” He shrugged. “Armond's son hates him. I guess I made up for that.”

“You really like the old man, don't you?”

“I do,” he admitted. Looking over his shoulder, he backed out of the old garage. “But not enough to become his made man. Once, I would have jumped at the chance, but that changed when I realized my sister was afraid of me.”

“What made her so afraid?”

He kept his gaze on the dirt lane. “She works for Princess Lara Kincade, and last year things kind of came to a head when Deidre saw me back in New Orleans. She was afraid I'd followed them from Europe to steal the Benoits. She almost quit her job, she was so afraid.”

He stopped at the road out and turned to gaze at Josie, his eyes burning with remorse. “I'll never forget the look on my sister's face when she confronted me. It was the same look she had when we were little and I had to leave her behind.”

Well, that was certainly a new revelation. Something inside Josie's heart melted away, leaving her standing in quicksand. “You love your sister more than you love Armond and a life of crime?”

“Yes. Deidre's taught me about faith and love—unconditional love.” He shook his head. “Look, we don't have time for a devotional but just know this, Josie. You can trust me. You have to trust me.”