One Kiss More (10 page)

“McCabe, you got a second?”

Morgan’s voice startled him from his musings, and Landon swiveled in his chair to face the deputy. “Sure. ’Sup?”

Morgan leaned against the desk in the cubicle Landon had taken over and folded his arms across his chest. “I thought you should know that we found something in regards to Emma’s involvement in Javier’s escape. My chief deputy has been on the phone with the Oregon district office all morning, and he wants us to make an arrest by the end of the day tomorrow.”

Landon’s pulse jacked up as his mind raced with too many thoughts to find a single coherent thread. “What did you find?” was all he could muster. He knew Emma was hiding something, but he’d hoped her involvement was minimal.

“A couple of weeks before Ruiz’s escape, an account in the Cayman Islands was opened in Emma’s name. She’s the primary signer on it, probably a dummy corporation. Azul LLC. We had a hard time getting a peek at the transaction records, our techs couldn’t break past her security protocols. But I made a couple of calls and found a reformed hacker on the FBI’s payroll who managed to find a backdoor into the account. Five separate deposits were made that total ten million dollars. And we’re assuming that she’s planning to make another deposit in the next few days. She also notified a few of her clients that she was going to be taking some time off. Your chief agrees that she might be planning to flee the country with her father, and my chief thinks we should bring her in now rather than wait and risk the chance of losing both of them later.”

This new development was putting a serious fucking monkey wrench in Landon’s plans. If they took Emma into custody, she’d shut down completely, and there’d be nothing he could do to get her to confide in him. Already, she refused to put any faith in his ability to help her. How was he going to gain her trust if he was forced to arrest her?

“Why do you assume there will be more deposits?”
And where in the hell did she get ten million dollars?

“Ruiz’s extortion money was never recovered. Isn’t that about three-quarters of what he demanded from Mendelson?”

According to Mike Shanahan, Mendelson’s CEO, Ruiz had demanded fifteen million dollars for his cooperation. And the deposits didn’t do much to proclaim Emma as an innocent party in all of this. Had they been hiding the money all this time? If so, where? And why, when there was so much attention being focused on them, would Emma choose now to shuffle the funds around? None of it made sense. “When are you planning to bring her in?”

“Tomorrow sometime. You have to admit, McCabe, the time line fits. Emma admitted that her last visit with her dad was a couple weeks ago, right after the deposits were made. We want to keep an eye on her for the next eighteen hours or so. Monitor her phone calls and see if she gives anything up. I put in a request this morning for a tap on her cell phone since it’s more likely she’d use it than her landline at this point. They’re tough to get so I’m hoping we have approval within the week. We’ve also put an extra set of eyes on her condo and we’re watching her known associates. She could have enlisted help from her more powerful friends.”

Known associates? Jesus, Morgan was already treating her like a criminal. “What about the guy I saw her with at the club last night?”

“The banger?” Morgan asked. “Your pics weren’t great and our facial recognition software isn’t able to match him up with anything. Without a name, it’s pretty tough to identify him. At this point, we have to hope he comes around her place or calls her.”

Fucktastic
.

“All right. I’ll do some more digging as well, see what I can find out. Maybe if I question her again, I can get her to cooperate.”

“The word from Portland is they don’t want us making contact.”

Okay, since when was Morgan getting info out of Landon’s home office before he was? What the fuck? “This came down from Monroe?” The chief deputy would have surely called him if that was the case.

“I’m just telling you what my superior told me, Landon. I don’t know who else is involved in this or how high it goes. All I was told was to bring Ruiz’s daughter in tomorrow.”

With zero leads on Ruiz’s whereabouts and the mysterious offshore account, Emma was the only suspect to pin the escape on at this point. But arresting Emma right now was only going to make things worse, and he knew it wouldn’t get them any closer to finding Javier. She’d clam up as tight as . . . well . . . a clam if they pressed her for information and Landon knew for a fact that Emma would gladly go to jail if it meant ensuring her father’s safety.

The only problem with that scenario was that Landon wasn’t entirely convinced that Javier would be safe whether Emma went to jail or not. “Thanks for the heads-up.” What else could he say at this point? Thanks for fucking up my investigation? Morgan was simply doing his job. “Let me know if you get anything from the wiretaps.”

“Will do.”

Landon turned back to his computer, staring blindly at the swirling animation of the screen saver. Emma had a solid alibi that covered her on the day of Javier’s escape. The man was on chemo. Weak and sick. Yet he’d single-handedly managed to enlist outside help and plan an escape that had allowed him to disappear into thin air?

Yeah, right.

No fucking way.

The gears in Landon’s mind cranked as he tried to make sense of the situation. He was more convinced that it wasn’t an escape they were dealing with. He racked his brain as he replayed every conversation he’d had with Emma since arriving in Seattle. She’d kept her cool, remained detached, and let very little slip. But Landon had always known that Emma was too smart for her own good. Despite her levelheadedness, she’d been spooked this morning. The phone call she hadn’t wanted to answer in Landon’s presence was perhaps the most damning piece of evidence that she’d gotten herself into trouble. Who had she been expecting a call from? The banger from last night? And why had there been so much fear in her deep brown eyes?

The possibility seemed so out of left field that Landon wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t shake the notion that Javier Ruiz hadn’t planned any escape at all. With or without Emma’s help. What if someone had abducted him instead? And what the fuck information did he have that would warrant a kidnapping? Landon’s stomach twisted into a nervous knot as he pushed the chair out from his desk and grabbed his jacket. He checked the magazine of his Glock, slammed it back into place, and settled the firearm into his shoulder holster before heading out of the office. Emma had declared that she knew her father was innocent. And if she had proof of his innocence, maybe someone wanted to make sure she and her father kept that information to themselves.

Now, if Landon could convince the entirety of the northwest divisions of the U.S. Marshals Service to get on board with that theory, he’d be golden. He just needed Emma to cooperate.

Piece of cake, right?

Climbing Everest might be a less daunting feat.

Emma stared at the Web page displayed on her iPad proclaiming her bank account balance to be ten million, two hundred thousand dollars and some change. At first, this had been about getting one up on the men who’d ruined her—and her father’s—life. Showing them that they weren’t the omnipotent figures they thought they were. It was a game. Something that had spurred Emma’s competitive edge as she set about proving she was the more skilled opponent. Win at all costs. Decimate the other team. It had driven her past reason until she crossed the finish line, victorious. If only she’d thought it through before she’d acted, weighed the consequences of her actions. Now it was too late and she was in too deep to do anything but play their game. Emma hadn’t crossed any finish line. She’d
lost
. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the tablet aside, disgusted, and walked to the large picture window in her living room that overlooked the city.

The sun had set hours ago and through the dark panes of glass, she stared out at the twinkling artificial light dotting the skyline like its own solar system. Seattle might as well be a universe, vast and dark, making Emma feel small and insignificant. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed moments later by the distant rumble of thunder. The first raindrops tapped at the large picture window in slow succession, building to a roar that almost drowned out the sound of her television. Maybe the rain would send the marshals back to their holes for the night. Without a doubt, they were down there on the street, watching her. Waiting for her to leave, to meet someone. To slip up. To hand her father over to them on a silver platter.

At this point, she almost hoped they’d get it over with and arrest her.

Emma’s ears perked up as a low
tap, tap, tap
registered under the sounds of the rain and her TV. Almost too quiet to hear at all. She paused. Tilted her head toward the sound.
Tap, tap, tap
.

With slow, quiet steps, she crossed the room. Her heart rate jacked up to about five hundred beats per minute as she made her way to the door. How could she live alone in the city and not even have a can of pepper spray handy? Good Lord. Up until now, she’d existed under the false sense of comfort that came from living in a building with great security. But in the course of a few weeks, not only had the U.S. Marshals barged in without anything more than a heads-up from security, but Cesar had wandered up to the twenty-first floor like he owned the place. Emma grabbed the first heavy object she could find and finished her trek to the door, decorative vase in hand. It might not do a lot of damage, but if push came to shove, she might be able to immobilize an attacker.

The fear that crept up her spine made her want to cringe away from herself in revulsion. She couldn’t afford to be afraid.

She took one last calming breath before rising up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole in the door. Landon McCabe stood on the other side, one arm braced against the door, his head hung between his shoulders. Jeez, he looked as tense as she felt. She placed the vase back on the end table and went back to open the door. So, Cesar wasn’t here to finish her off, but it looked as if she was about to be taken into custody. She should have felt relief. The way her hands shook when she turned the doorknob, though, told a different story.

McCabe pushed his way in and placed his palm over Emma’s mouth, gently shutting the door behind him. Emma tried to back away and struggled against his iron grip, but he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. Her hands came up between them to push against his chest and his warmth soaked into her skin, jacking Emma’s pulse in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Damn him. She was
trying
to be outraged.

“Is there anyone else here?” Chills danced over Emma’s skin as the warmth of his breath brushed her ear. She shook her head in response, and he said, “I’m going to let you go now. Don’t say a word, do you understand?”

What in the hell was going on? She pulled back so she could look into his face and the hand that was wrapped around her waist moved to cup the back of her neck. He leaned in and his lips brushed her cheek when he said, “Not. A. Word. Nod your head, Emma.”

Bossy.

But she obliged him anyway, giving a sharp nod of acknowledgment. McCabe let her go, and Emma almost melted into the floor without his firm grip to keep her upright. She followed him into the living room, bemused at his strange behavior. As if she thought her situation couldn’t get any weirder. By all rights he should have barged in flashing his badge and gun, being seven different kinds of cocky while he tried to intimidate her into cooperating.

Was she in the Twilight Zone?

No, seriously.

McCabe grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and turned up the volume until it was a notch below annoyingly loud. He crossed back to Emma and again, leaned in so close that their bodies touched. “Your apartment, phone, and cell are tapped and you’re going to be arrested tomorrow for conspiracy, aiding and abetting, and a handful of additional charges. Since we can’t find Javier, you’re going to be the scapegoat, Emma. I know you didn’t do this alone. Tell me what’s going on so I can stop this arrest. Let me help you.”

The conviction in his words didn’t go unnoticed. Nor did the way his body tensed when his hand brushed her hip. Electric energy charged the narrow space between them, and Emma’s breath sped in her chest. “I can’t.” She felt as though she were being torn in two. The pressure Cesar put on her was too much. Landon’s urging was too much. She was breaking under the strain. “Please, McCabe, go. Or arrest me right now.” Would he? Could he simply slap the cuffs on her right here and now and haul her out into the rain? At least then the situation would be out of her hands.

He took a step back. His eyes drifted shut as he held a breath in his lungs. On the exhale, he raked his fingers through his hair and when his eyes finally opened, there was an unmistakable fire burning in his gaze. “For
once
, can you please not behave like a spoiled child? You’re going to go to federal prison, Emma. You think the gossips are up your ass now? They’ll have a field day once you’re taken into custody!”

Wow. Flag on the play! Personal foul. For someone keeping his voice to a seething whisper, McCabe sure projected his insult well. Did he think this was easy for her? Some kind of game? Let’s see how far the spoiled Emma Ruiz can push the U.S. Marshals before they crack?

“Do you think
any
of that matters to me?” McCabe wasn’t the only one who could pack a punch while talking like a girl at a slumber party after lights out. She poked a finger into his chest to accentuate her words. “You don’t have any idea what I’m dealing with! And don’t you dare call me spoiled. You know
nothing
about me.”

With the last poke at his broad chest, McCabe caught her wrist in his grip, firm but not tight enough to hurt her. He hauled her against him, and she bucked her chin in the air, meeting him glare for angry glare. “I’m putting my job on the line for you, Emma. If anyone finds out I’m here, alerting you to the fact that you’re about to be arrested, I could be fired.”