Nailed (Marked For Love #1) (11 page)

She filled both of their glasses from the pitcher of raspberry tea on the table. "Going through the photos again. In case we missed something."

"Any luck?" He motioned for her plate, filling it while she talked.

"No," she sighed, sipping at her drink. "I wish I could talk to Karen, or that she'd told Lisa more about what we were looking for!"

"So do I, but anymore contact could put your sisters in danger. We've got to accept that we're on our own here if we want this to all end well." And more than anything he really did want things to end well. Julie and her family had been through enough. They deserved to live out their lives without fear that someone would find them when they least expected it.

***

At the sound of his cell phone ringing, Wynn rolled over and fumbled around, pawing at the nightstand until he found it. Clearing his throat, he flipped it open, and pressed it to his ear.

"Where are you?" The sound of his brother John's, voice was as rude a wakeup call as a glass of ice water dumped on his head.

"Good morning to you, too." Wynn tucked the pillow under his head, and wished like hell he'd checked the Caller ID first.

"After you called me about Lisa Burt I decided to take a closer look at her. Our little party girl is gone. And guess what I found when I checked her phone records? A call from West Texas. Know anything about that?"

Wynn could almost picture the steam coming out of John's ears. With a soft groan of frustration, he sat up. "Where are
you
?"

"
I
am in Miami ready to board a plane for Oklahoma City."

Where Dad was waiting for an update. They both knew it. Neither of them said it. They didn't have to. The last thing he needed was for his brother to talk to his dad, and for his dad to find out he'd had any contact with Lisa before she disappeared. The threat of his father hung over him like a scythe, ready to chop his head off.

"I'm in West Texas—"

"Did you tip her—"

"No. But you've got to give me my allotted time, John." He wouldn't beg. Not to his brother. He'd never be allowed to live it down if he did.

"Dad's counting on you, Wynn. You fuck this up and—" He faked the sound of Wynn's throat being cut. "If I go home, I have to tell him you contacted Lisa and now she's gone."

"Dad's not the only one counting on me. Now, if you can't help your brother out, at least give me time to wrap this up."

"What do you need?" he sighed. In the background Wynn could hear the chatter of too many humans, and someone calling out a coffee order.

"What the fuck are we looking for?"

"We? Wynn, what the fuck are you doing?"

"John?" he warned.

"Proof that—"

"I know it's proof!" Jesus Christ it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of anyone. "In what format?"

"A microchip of some sort. You're looking for a microchip."

"Have a safe flight home." He hung up and sat there, elbows propped on his knees, phone dangling from his hand.

"Is everything okay?" asked Julie from behind him.

He lay back down, snuggling against the warm length of her despite the tempting scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. He debated for all of three seconds on whether to tell her about her sister. "Everything's fine. Except..."

She sat up, a worried expression on her face, and drew her legs to her chest. "What is it?"

"That was my brother, John. Your sister's gone, and he knows we talked to her."

"Will he tell your dad?"

"I—" he shook his head, "—I don't think so. Maybe." As long as Dad didn't ask John directly. And Dad
would
once John got back from Miami. John wouldn't lie, because he was unable to. Especially not face to face.

"What do you mean 'you don't think so'?"

"He's like fucking George Washington. He can't lie."

"You're kidding."

"Afraid not."

"I dunno, honey," she sighed, "a hitman who can't lie doesn't seem very effective."

"He doesn't talk much."

"But you don't know. You don't know anything for sure, do you?" she accused, the blankets clutched to her chest.

"I'm doing the best I can." He threw back the sheet and headed for the bathroom, hoping a shower would buy him some time to think.

A few minutes later she joined him, taking a seat on the edge of the tub and letting in a blast of chilly air when she pulled the curtain back. "I think I should leave."

"Pour me some coffee before you go, would you?" He ducked under the spray to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

"I mean, I think I should just take off. Wynn, we're never gonna find it."

His stomach clenched at the thought of what would happen if she ran. The idea that John or Will or even some stranger might track her down and execute her left him feeling weak-kneed.

"Hold up." He quickly finished up and shut off the water. "If you leave, I leave with you." He half-stepped out of the shower and angrily yanked her up by the arm. "You can't afford to run, and more importantly, I can't afford for you to run."

She jerked away, landing against the towel bar with enough force to bring tears to her eyes. Or was she just crying? "Fuck you! And fuck your dad! Fuck your fucking reputation and your...your
job
! Fuck all of this, goddamnit. I gave up my fucking life for this...shit!"

She stormed out, with him hot on her heels,
after
he grabbed a towel and cinched it around his waist. Unfortunately, he didn't catch her until she made it just outside the front door. "It's okay," he said, his slippery fingers barely catching her arm.

"Fucking no it's not!" Her words bounced off the empty, early morning courtyard like thunder and next door, the volume of his neighbor's TV dropped drastically.

"Yes it is. Now calm down and come back inside." While he spoke he did his best to maintain his grip on her but one wet hand was no match for her and she easily got away.

Across the way, Old Homer's blinds were now open and Bonnie's co-worker stood just outside his front door, calmly buttoning his shirt while he eyed Wynn. A toddler, dressed in only a diaper and socks, came tumbling out the door, and clutched at his father's leg. Somewhere below Wynn, another door slammed. He couldn't follow dressed in only a towel.

They'd attracted attention they didn't need. He quietly stepped back inside his own apartment and shut the door. In the bedroom he dressed as quickly as possible, hopping up and down as he shoved his damp legs into a pair of sweat pants. At best two, maybe three minutes had passed. Not enough time for Julie to pack and get the hell out of Cielo. He snatched his own keys from the kitchen counter and with one last wistful look at the pot of coffee, headed to her apartment.

His knock was answered by Manuel, Juan...
Tony
. Wynn could hear Julie in the bedroom, yelling something about what a bastard he, Wynn, was, and how someone was going to kill her if she didn't leave. He pushed the shorter man inside and slammed the door behind him. He was ready to push past him again when Tony pulled a .22 from behind his back.

"You don't want to do that," Wynn said softly. A chill that had nothing do with his wet hair moved through him.

"You're right. But I will if I have to. She's family; you're not."

Julie appeared behind him and a growl came from under the couch. "Tony, no."

The Mexican never moved.

"Tony, I don't need this kind of attention, and I'd bet you don't either."

"She's right. You shoot me and a cop will have you in handcuffs before she hits the city limits." Wynn moved closer, but Tony backed away, the gun leveled at Wynn's gut. Gut shots were bad—very bad. If you had to get shot, the gut was one of the last places you wanted to take a bullet.

"Go pack," Tony said, never taking his eyes off Wynn.

"I'm leaving, Wynn, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Maybe not, but I guarantee if you walk out that door, I can't help you anymore, and the next man who comes after you
will
kill you, plain and simple. Then they'll hunt down Karen, Kevin and Lisa, and kill them, too." He hated strong-arming her, but he had no choice.

He'd do whatever was necessary to keep her from running.

"I don't think so." Her expression grim, she wandered closer, but still outside the line of fire. "You see, you're going with me, and Tony too, and he's going to shoot you and we're going to dump your body in the desert down by Big Bend. Maybe even in the park. I figure your family will be too busy looking for your body to worry about me. And if, by chance, someday they do find me, it's not like I have any sort of life in the first place, now is it? I disappeared once, I can do it again."

"You can't take the cat. He's a dead giveaway."

"Tony will keep him for me."

"Where will you go?"

"Like I'd tell you?"

"You're just going to kill me anyway. You might as well."

"I'm not that dumb, Wynn."

Clyde chose that moment to come out from under the couch but before Julie could scoop him up and throw him in the cat carrier, he ran for Wynn, leaping into his arms. "I don't think Clyde wants to live with Tony."

Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "I'll send him to your dad then."

"Julie, let me help you." He moved toward her, only to stop at the sound of the hammer being drawn back.

"Put the cat down, Wynn."

"I won't let you do this."

"She said put the fucking cat down." Tony's eyes narrowed and his stance was firm, but relaxed, his accent almost undetectable.

Wynn didn't doubt for a moment that, given the chance, the other man would shoot him. But from the sound of sirens coming nearer, he wouldn't get the chance to. There would be no trip to the desert, no bullet put in the back of Wynn's head or anyplace else—today. "I suggest you ditch that gun before the cops get here."

Tony glanced at the window; those few precious seconds were enough for Wynn to pitch Clyde in his direction and make a break for Julie who darted in to the bedroom with a shriek. "Run, Tony!"

The front door slammed about the time she landed on the bed and Wynn followed, pinning her down face first. "You've put us in quite a jam with the cops coming here."

"So fucking go ahead and kill me already," she ground out, struggling against the weight of him on her back.

"I'm a lover not a fighter, darlin'." Even though there was nothing funny about the entire situation, Wynn couldn't hold back a grin.

If Julie had seen it, she probably would have decked him. He had to give her credit for having some balls though. Or he would have if Clyde hadn't chosen that moment to sink his teeth into Wynn's bare foot.

"Ow! Fucker!" He lashed out at the teeth sunk in his toe, kicking Clyde loose and rolling over to grab his foot all in one motion. Clyde dove for the closet. "Mother fucker bit me!"

Next to him, Julie shrieked with laugher. "Fucking got what you deserved, asshole." She gave him a shove that nearly sent him flying off the bed and disappeared in the hallway. Her suitcase slid past the bedroom door as a knock echoed through the apartment.

Wynn stayed put, his foot clutched in his hand, blood welling from the tiny puncture wound. He hoped like hell Julie wouldn't tell the cops he was here. He really couldn't afford to be on anyone's radar. Pinching his big toe between his thumb and finger, he hobbled across the bed and leaned closer to the window and listened.

"Hi, Dan."

"You okay, Bonnie?"

All Wynn could see from between the blinds was a brown uniform and a gun belt.

"I'm fine."

"Mind if I take a look around? Your neighbor downstairs was pretty concerned when she called. She said something about a man chasing you and yelling."

Wynn pushed to his feet and exited the bedroom, ready to bullshit his way right out of a ton of trouble. "Who's at the door, babe?" He limped into the living room, forcing a sheepish grin onto his face for the deputy's benefit.

"It's Deputy Travers,
honey
." She shrugged and sort of half-heartedly waved toward the door.

"Dan, please," the deputy said, shouldering past Julie, his hand outstretched to shake Wynn's.

Whoever had thought up the word
Beefy
, had done so with Dan Travers in mind. He was beefy and blonde and making google-eyes at Julie while he fondled the gun strapped to his hip.

Coincidence? Wynn didn't think so. If Julie hadn't looked so irritated, he might have been jealous instead of struggling to control his laughter.  

"Wynn Coldwell," he glibly lied. "I'm really sorry about the disturbance. We had a fight," he said, drawing the deputy's attention back to him. "Bonnie here got mad and threw the cat at me."

From behind the deputy's back, a narrow-eyed Julie snickered, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

"Is that true, Bonnie Honey?" Travers spun around, a frown of concern puckering his forehead. "You threw that old cat a'yours at him?"

Wynn didn't doubt the deputy slept with his gun, and possibly did other things with it too. Wynn waggled his eyebrows at "Bonnie Honey".

"I knew I'd left his claws in for a reason."

"Aw come on baby—" Wynn couldn't hold back a grin, "—I'll take you to Alpine for lunch if you just say you forgive me."

"You left me high and dry this morning." Hands propped on her hips, the expression on her face could only be called, Irate Woman. Little Miss Julie had missed her calling as an actress. "It's gonna take more than lunch to get back in my good graces, and you
know
what I mean."

"Whatever you say, baby." He forced the most contrite expression he could muster, without busting out laughing, then shrugged at Travers.

The red-faced deputy slowly backed toward the door, obviously dismayed to find nothing more than a lover's quarrel. "You sure, Bon?"

"I've got him right where I want him, Dan." Her eyes softened and her mouth curved into a serene smile that made Wynn shiver.

Chapter Seventeen

I stood at the door giving Dan a little finger wave and thinking what a phenomenal dumbass he was. I also had the not-so-small matter of Wynn to deal with
and
my job, which I in no way felt like doing.