Play Dead (14 page)

Chad stared at him as if Trent was speaking in tongues. He grabbed Trent’s arm and pulled him inside. “Browne? No shit?”

Trent waited for Chad to close the door before saying, “It’s true.”

Chad’s brow furrowed and he pointed upward, then put a finger in front of his lips, indicating he had a woman upstairs and they should keep their voices down. “Where’s she been? Who was in the car?”

“I don’t have all the details. Farah and I thought I should come here to tell you rather than use the phone and leave a record.”

“Good thinking.” Chad ran his fingers though his hair. “This certainly fucks up everything.”

“How long do you think it will take to recalculate the probate?” Money wasn’t Trent’s only concern, but it was his most pressing problem.

“The lowlife bureaucrats almost had it figured out for three. They’ve just started on dual calculations. Now they’ll have to start all over.”

“What? Can’t they go back to what they originally had?”

“No. It doesn’t work that way. Papers were filed, including the death certificate. Now that will have to be corrected and appraisals of property resubmitted. Guaranteed to take—” he shrugged “—who knows how long?”

Just what Trent feared. What was he going to do?

“Still need a loan?” Chad asked, then added without waiting for an answer, “Try Laird McMasters. He’s hot to be involved with Surf’s Up.”

“Might have to,” Trent admitted. He hated the thought of dealing with Laird, but what choice did he have?

Chad cracked the door, a clear sign for Trent to leave. “Don’t worry about Hayley’s reappearance. They can’t prove squat.”

“I’m not so sure…”

“Trust me.” Chad opened the front door. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Trent walked outside without another word. Trust Chad? Did he have a choice?

B
AREFOOT
, H
AYLEY
silently walked across the tile floor in an oversize T-shirt and panties to the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the beach. A scythe of a moon gave off pale light that bounced across the waves and highlighted the sand in front of Conrad Hollister’s home. A window nearby was open and the fresh scent of the ocean filled the room. The wind chimes hanging from the roof danced in a whisper of a breeze along with the lulling sound of waves breaking on the beach.

It was the middle of the night and she couldn’t sleep. Hayley had believed meeting with the police would solve her problems. It hadn’t. If anything, the situation was now more complicated.

The police couldn’t tie her to the drug cartel but that didn’t mean Trent wasn’t involved. By association she could easily be implicated. Once she would have laughed at the thought. Those things only happened on television, but now she knew better. Look at all the bizarre events surrounding her lately.

White-hot anger mushroomed inside her. The soothing sound of the sea that usually calmed her didn’t help. She didn’t have much of a temper. Most of the people she’d known always described her as “laid-back”—a typical SoCal expression. She might have been mellow once, but
no longer. A single thought kept ringing in her brain: Someone wants you dead. It was frustrating as hell not to know exactly who and why.

“See anyone out there?”

She whirled around, her heart thumping. Ryan. Sitting in the shadows on the sofa facing the magnificent view. But even as the thought registered, telling her that she wasn’t in danger, it was impossible to steady her erratic pulse. Someone had tried to kill her. Was she ever going to feel safe again?

“I—I w-wasn’t looking for anyone,” she managed to say, remembering how little she was wearing and wondering if he could see she was nearly naked. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“I know what you mean.” Ryan patted the seat next to him.

A now familiar shiver of awareness swept through her. In the dark room his features were hazy, but she could make out the strong line of his jaw and his glossy black hair. Her heart fluttered wildly as she ventured toward him.

She sat, putting an appropriate distance between them. A professional distance. He was so compelling; his vitality captivated her. He didn’t feel the same way.
Get a grip,
she silently instructed herself.
You’re in real trouble.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked to fill the awkward silence.

“Okay. Sports teach you to ignore pain.” His teeth flashed white in the shadows and the ambient light glinted in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, his tone light. “Thinking about what?”

“Playing this a different way. Not hiding.”

“Got a death wish—” he leaned toward her “—or what? Your attorney told you to stay out of sight.”

“Hear me out.” She ignored the flutter in her chest brought on by his closeness. “What would I do if I didn’t know about the erased CD of my parents’ trust?”

“Well, I suppose you’d go about your business, thinking the bombing was a mistake of some kind.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t hide. I’d take some precautions. Obviously a vicious cartel has
mistaken
me for someone else.”

“Hold on, sweet cheeks.”

Sweet cheeks? Her eyes were adjusted to the hazy light and she could see his expression. He was concerned about her. Was “sweet cheeks” a term of endearment he used with his wife and it just slipped out? Undoubtedly.
Easy, Hayley, let it go. This man is trying to help you.

“I have my doubts about the cartel angle even though the ATF traced the bomb to them,” Ryan told her. “I think Trent and Farah—possibly their mother—and maybe Chad Bennett are the real threats.”

“Agreed, but what good does it do to hide forever?”

“It’s not forever. It’s just until the police get the copy of the CD and realize the trust was altered. They’ll put the pressure on the Fordhams to get a confession.”

“Possibly if it were just Trent, but I think Farah is too smart and Cynthia too conniving to admit anything. The CD you’re going to give your friend Ed is a copy of a CD that my mother
supposedly
gave me along with several design CDs that I never bothered to look at. The Fordhams will claim I made a fake CD. Chad Bennett will back them to the hilt rather than risk being disbarred for his part in the scheme.”

They’d decided to pretend the CD had been among the group of disks Ryan had taken from Hayley’s loft. Otherwise, they would have to admit they’d broken into her parents’ home and found the info on the hard drive. This was the only way to reveal the information while protecting Ryan.

Warily, she watched him consider what she’d just said. His jaw tightened and she could almost feel the sudden tension in his body. For an instant, she thought he was going to grab her and shake some sense into her. Fierce determination filled every cell in her body. He could be as persuasive as he wanted, as demanding—as anything—but she’d made up her mind.

She noticed him shudder as he drew in a sharp breath and hunched his shoulders forward. “You know, Hayley, you’re onto something. There’s no way to prove when that CD was made. A hacker could have altered it.”

Now she leaned closer to him. “Exactly. Chad would claim I took stationery from his office when we were engaged. I used it to create the disk and make it appear legitimate.”

“You’re probably right. Unless the authorities have your mother’s hard drive checked by an expert, they won’t know the document is real.”

“While I’m returning to my usual routine, couldn’t you get the police to examine my mother’s computer?” she asked.

“It’s not that easy. A regular technician used by most police departments to examine criminals’ computers isn’t skilled enough to find this file.”

“What should we do?” The minute she uttered the word
we
Hayley regretted it. This was her problem—not his. He’d already jeopardized his career for her. She
couldn’t let him take another risk. “I’m not hiding. I’m going to find out who’s behind this.”

He rubbed his injured shoulder for a moment. “What do you intend to do?”

“Go to Surf’s Up as if I don’t know a thing. Plant a bug in Trent’s office—”

“Where would you get the bug?”

“Online from the SpyShoppe.”

“Spare me! Too much television. Too much Internet.” Ryan threw both hands into the air, palms up. “If you could get something on Trent—and that’s a big ‘if’ because devices sold on the Internet are notoriously unreliable—what would you do with the info?”

“Take it to the authorities. Hopefully, he’ll implicate the others involved.”

He turned to her; even in the shadowy light she read the skepticism in his expression. “You would have obtained it illegally and it couldn’t be used in court.”

A sourness flared in the pit of her stomach. Had she been thinking, she would have realized this. She had no idea what she was going to do, but she refused to hide. A thought hit her. “You must know where I could buy reliable equipment.”

His eyes were so assessing that it made her uneasy. “I do, but it still won’t solve the evidence problem.”

“I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand. I want to know who exactly is behind this and why. Then I’ll know what to do.”

“I understand,” he replied.

“I can’t help thinking that it’s more than the money motivating someone.”

“Why?”

She could feel her throat closing up, and quickly said, “A hunch. That’s all.”

“Has to be two people at least,” he responded. “Bennett didn’t stand to gain anything by denying there was a trust—”

Hayley shot to her feet. “Oh, my God. I have an idea. Let’s contact Sylvia Morrow, the secretary in Chad’s office who notarized the trust. She could back up what you found in the computer’s trash.”

“I thought of that but I assumed she was in on this or she would have come forward.”

“True,” she agreed. Hayley had only met Sylvia a few times when she’d been in the office with Chad. She didn’t have a feel for the older woman.

Ryan reached up and took Hayley’s hand, then gently pulled her down beside him again, closer this time. “Do you know how a bug works?”

“Sort of.” This near him, she couldn’t ignore the heat of his body, the masculine planes of his chest under the T-shirt. “It picks up conversations and they’re recorded…somewhere.”

“So where would you hide the recorder?” he asked, unaware of the effect he had on her.

“I don’t know. Nearby. In the bushes behind the shop.”

“Great, so kids could come along and grab it.”

“It’s not much of a plan,” she admitted. “But I’m not going to hide. Garver said it could be months before the estate was settled. At that point, no one will have a reason to kill me—if that actually
is
the reason. I refuse to wait—hiding like
I’m
the criminal—until the probate is completed. I’m not going to do it.” She knew she sounded petulant but couldn’t help it. She’d made up her mind. Nothing her aunt or anyone said would change it.

He seemed to sense her need for reassurance. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her flush
against the solid wall of his chest. His arm was warm and strong. She inhaled the clean, fresh scent of soap. He must have showered after they’d come home.

Being in his arms felt so right that she snuggled closer. For a fleeting second she remembered the way he’d rejected her yesterday, but then the thought evaporated. She needed to feel connected to someone. Even if Ryan was only a friend, it didn’t matter. She’d always put a distance between herself and others. Oh, she had friends, but Lindsey had been her only close friend other than Aunt Meg.

Aunt Meg was family. She’d been programmed to love Hayley because Hayley was her sister’s child. Lindsey had become a close friend because she had confided in Hayley—drawn her into her life. Maybe that was what had been wrong with her relationship with Chad, Hayley reflected. They’d been engaged but somehow they’d never been truly close.

Now she needed a friend, someone who would understand what she was up against. Ryan’s sheer size was comforting in a way that she hadn’t expected. She knew he didn’t agree with her plan, but at least he listened to her, discussed things. Unlike Chad, who was a man who wanted an audience, she realized.

“I can help you,” Ryan said. “What you need is a professional bug that can be picked up far away—not in the bushes nearby—and will record on a CD, not a tape that has to be changed all the time.”

“Is that how it’s done?” she asked, realizing she knew little about high-tech surveillance.

“Yes. I can get a chip for any phone, even a cell phone.”

“Great.” She gave him half a hug with her one arm
before the light dawned. He was volunteering to help her. She couldn’t allow him to do anything more to put his career at risk.

“You’ve done enough for me. I can’t let you get into trouble. If you just tell me where to go and what to get—”

“It’s too technical. I’ll take care of it.” The concern she detected in his eyes startled her. “I’ve decided to resign. I can’t get into trouble for helping you.”

She gasped, alarm coursing through her. “You did? Why?”

His arm still around her, Ryan rested his head against the back of the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. In the shadowy darkness, she couldn’t read his expression. Oh, God, she didn’t want to be responsible for ending his career. Then she recalled the way he’d acted last night. She didn’t mean that much to him. Something else had to be going on that she didn’t understand.

“It’s complicated,” he finally said, lowering his head and looking into her eyes again. “I haven’t been on track with the Bureau’s program for some time now. Even before I reinjured my shoulder, I didn’t like the way career advancement means moving to another city when you get a promotion.”

There seemed to be some unspoken yet intangible link between them. She didn’t dare speak and break the spell. It occurred to Hayley that she knew very little about him. Maybe she was foolish to trust him. The thought vanished before it could settle in her brain.

“When I return to work in two weeks, I expect to be promoted and sent to Quantico, where the main office has a world-class computer forensics team. That would mean leaving my father. I can’t. He won’t be around forever. I want to share what time we have left.”

“I understand,” Hayley replied in a whispery voice that she hardly recognized. “When my parents died, I would have moved to San Francisco, but I couldn’t leave Aunt Meg.” She had the feeling there might be more to his story than he was telling her, but now didn’t seem to be the time to question him.

Ryan silently gazed down at her. His look was so galvanizing it sent a tremor through her. His grip on her tightened as his attitude became more serious. “My priorities have changed. I’m going to help you through this, then I’ll reevaluate…things.”

He pulled her closer, both arms around her now. Her cheek rested against his T-shirt and she could feel the firmness of his torso, the powerful beat of his heart. She circled her arm around his waist, feeling protected and desired.

Desired? Was she imagining it? After the way she’d misjudged him last night, Hayley couldn’t be sure. His appeal was devastating but maybe he just wanted to comfort her. She was just plain stupid to allow herself to imagine this to be something it wasn’t.

She tilted her head up so she could look directly into his eyes. In the shadows, his gaze roved over her face. The smoldering spark she saw in his eyes was startling. A ripple of excitement danced through her. There was no mistaking his intentions.

He cradled her face with a warm hand, sweeping away all her doubts and fears. His touch was almost unbearable in its tenderness and the surge of passion it released in Hayley. Her feelings for him were intensifying with every beat of her heart. Her whole body seemed to be filled with wanting—and waiting. Tonight he had to kiss her first.

His lips pressed against hers, then gently covered her mouth. His grip on her tightened as he pressed her flush against his chest. Her pulse quickened and a hot ache built inside her. The velvet warmth of his kiss became slightly moist as his tongue sought hers. She returned his kiss with reckless abandon. Her nipples tightened and her body did a slow burn.