Temperature's Rising (32 page)

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that brief moment she got a good look at his face and all speculation vanished. It was Al.

Son of a bitch, he’d scammed her. He’d probably been laughing at her the whole time. She clamped her lips together to keep from screaming. Why hadn’t she guessed his true nature?

She wracked her brain, trying to come up with clues that might have warned her. He’d shown an interest in her family and the wave of burglaries. Her stomach flip-flopped. Had she unwittingly given him information?

Had she handed it to him on a silver platter? Conor and her father had suspected there might be another person involved. They’d been right.

Her. Albeit unknowingly. Guilt washed over her. Now Conor was hurt. And it was her fault.

Her gaze fixed on his still form. Al better hope the most Conor suffered was a bump on the head.

“George! Barry! Get out here!” Al’s high-pitched, maniacal laughter bounced off the metal building and echoed through the darkness. This wasn’t the same man she’d known and trusted. How could she have even thought he was a sweet, gentle friend?

She gritted her teeth, as anger like she’d never before experienced ripped through her. “That son of a bitch,” she ground out. He’d used her. No one used her like this and got away with it.

She slipped her cell phone from her back pocket and flipped it open, punching in her father’s number.

“Why are you calling this late?” he answered without a hello, but then, she never called this late unless she needed him.

“Dad, something is going down and we need backup,” she whispered.

“Where are you?”

She moved to the other side of the building in case the 276

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light breeze decided to shift, sending her voice down the hill and alerting Al and the Merediths that there was someone else around.

“I’m just west of town. Remember those warehouses just off Duncan Road?”

“Yeah, I know them.”

“Good. We’ll need assistance, but I want you to hang back so I can see what’s up. I don’t want to put Conor in any more jeopardy than he’s in.” She paused for half a second. “The Merediths are here. Al knocked Conor over the head.”

“Al!”

She cringed. “Yeah, Al. They don’t know I’m here. I don’t know how he’s connected with the Merediths, but they’re involved in something illegal. Before you storm the warehouse, though, I want to make sure Conor is out of the line of fire.”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “We’ll play it your way. Be careful.”

Her smile held no humor. “I’m a cop and you trained me well. I’ll call to tell you when to make your move.” She closed the phone and clipped it back on her pocket before going around the building to take up her vigil.

“Hurry up,” Al said. “We’ve got company.”

“Company?” Barry growled as he opened the side door to the large metal building. He and George stepped outside. Light spilled over Conor. “Who is it?” He pushed Conor with his boot until he rolled faceup.

Barry smacked George. With a pained expression, George grabbed his arm.

“I told you we couldn’t trust him.” Barry glared at his younger brother. “
Now
look what’s happened.” Al’s head jerked up. “You’ve had contact with him?” Barry shuffled his feet when he turned back to Al.

“He’s just our neighbor. Probably wants a cut of the loot.

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Trudy invited him over for supper.” He glared at George.

“I told you he was trouble.”

“You idiots!” Al stomped his foot.

Barry and George took a step back.

“What’s all the commotion? Y’all talking loud enough to wake the dead.” Winston Meredith ambled out of the warehouse, hitching up his pants and spitting out of the side of his mouth.

“Your neighbor here happens to be a cop, you fools!” Winston lumbered over to Conor’s still form and nudged him none too gently with the toe of his boot.

Conor groaned. Winston spat again, then wiped tobacco juice off his chin.

“I know’d he was up to no good.” He turned a menacing glare in George’s direction. “Ain’t nobody stupid enough to want you as a friend. Always was dumb and always will be. Hell, your ma couldn’t stomach you no more than me. That’s why she dumped you on my doorstep and took off.”

“The problem is, what are we to do with him?” Al squatted beside Conor.

“Kill him.” Winston spat on the ground again.

Jessica’s stomach lurched. She fumbled for her cell phone, slipping it out of the holder, ready to call her father.

“No, not just yet. Put him where he’ll be out of the way while we finish loading the truck. I met the bastard once and he acted like I wasn’t good enough to lick his boots. Drag him inside and tie him up. I want to have a little fun with him before I kill him.”

“It’d be a sight easier if I shoot him right now.” Winston spoke casually enough to make Jessica wonder if he’d killed in the past. He made it sound like it was something he did every day.

“No.” Al stood, prancing in front of Conor. “I want him to know who’s ending his life. He needs to be taught 278

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a lesson. Maybe then he’ll see that brains win over brawn any day.”

“What-a you mean?” George sidled up close to the other men. “Conor is-a not bad person. Maybe if-a he promises not to talk . . .”

“Drop that phony accent.” Al spun around and took a menacing step toward the smaller man.

George ran backwards and slammed against the side of the warehouse.

“Do you really think anyone buys that you’re Dutch?”

“It’s Italian-o,” George mumbled.

“Around me, you’d better be American. Now drag him inside and tie him up before he comes to.” Relieved that she had a little more time, Jessica put her phone away and rested her head against the metal sid-ing. Surely if Conor was badly injured, they wouldn’t worry if he were bound or not. Would they?

“Reckon he’s got help on the way?” Barry’s gaze darted left, then right.

“If he did, they’d have swarmed all over us by now. Besides, if you’d listened to the news today, you’d have heard the cops think they have the burglars in custody.” Al looked down at Conor. A malicious grin spread across his face. “No, cops stick together. He was only checking us out. Just got a little too close. Probably thought he was invincible. I’ll show him just how invincible he is.” Al might have fooled her once, but she’d have the last laugh. The Merediths were too stupid to realize she wasn’t a harmless housewife. They hadn’t seen anger like what she was about to unleash. She was about to become their worst nightmare.

Okay, stay focused! Take a deep breath. She breathed in, then exhaled as determination stole over her. A low growl came from somewhere deep inside her as she stealthily made her way down the hill, keeping close to TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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the warehouses. She was ready to tackle anyone or anything that got in her way.

At the bottom of the hill, she glanced around. All clear. She crept to the door and tested the knob. Unlocked. Fools. She eased the door open a crack and surveyed the room.

Winston, Barry, and George loaded a large truck with what were probably stolen goods while Al directed their moves. Of course, he wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty.

She and Conor had been wrong about one thing. They weren’t pulling a heist tonight. It looked more like they were getting rid of the merchandise. She’d told Al the cops were getting close. Coward that he was, Al wouldn’t take a chance robbing anyone else. Better to cash in and lie low.

Her gaze swept the room. Boxes stacked three-high made two short rows down the center of the warehouse.

TVs, VCRs, and furniture were scattered about the building. Slowly, she looked around. Her breath caught in her throat. Conor was slumped forward in a high-back wooden chair, his wrists tied to the arms.

They didn’t even bother keeping an eye on him. But then, why should they? Conor was obviously out cold and bound to a chair. What trouble could he possibly cause them? On the other hand, she’d let them see just how angry she could get.

Wait. His head moved. Only a little, but if she wasn’t mistaken, Conor only pretended to be unconscious.

Relief flooded through her. She wanted to hug him around the neck, but first she had to set him free.

She slipped inside, quickly hiding herself behind a row of boxes. Crouching low, she’d almost reached the chair before running out of cover.

“Pssssst.”

Conor’s head jerked around. He squeezed his eyes 280

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closed as if the sudden movement had caused him pain.

Another reason to make Al pay dearly. She didn’t forgive or forget when someone hurt those she cared about.

This close, he looked better than all right, though. He looked pretty damn fantastic. She waved, smiling at him.

Then frowned.

He didn’t look at all pleased that she’d come to rescue him. In fact, he looked very displeased. Her eyebrows drew together. Of all the ungrateful people—he actually glared at her! She should turn around and leave. Let them dump his carcass in the dirtiest, stinkiest river . . .

Okay, so maybe she’d go ahead and save his hide, but she expected a thank-you when all this was over. Damn, he really needed to learn that she could handle herself, unless maybe animals were involved, goats in particular.

Right now, the only animals she saw were the two-legged kind, and those she could handle a lot better.

As soon as the coast was clear, Jessica scurried to the back of the chair and crouched down, carefully sliding a nearby box closer for more concealment. Now she had ample coverage from the crooks.

“You could at least look relieved.”

“Get out of here,” he snarled under his breath.

Conor quickly lowered his head and continued to watch the burglars from half-closed eyes. At least they hadn’t seen her slip behind his chair.

His head began pounding like drums at a bongo festi-val. He’d just thought it hurt before. If they spotted her, she’d be killed right alongside him. His insides spit and hissed like fat on a grill. He tried to blot out the vision of Jessica’s lifeless body, a bullet hole . . .

That wouldn’t happen. They’d escape. Then she’d be safe.

And
he’d
kill her!

“The least you can say is thanks. I
am
risking my life to save your ungrateful butt. By the way, how’s your head? I saw Al whack you.”

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“Your friend’s aim was off. I’ll live.” At least he hoped so. He wanted to kill Jessica himself, and he couldn’t do that if he were dead. “Please, get out of here while you still have the chance.”

“Nope. And Al’s no longer my friend. He used me to get information on who to burglarize. I owe him one.”

“Jessica, leave. Now. Go get help.”

“I’m not stupid, Conor.” The man gave her absolutely no credit. If they were going to have a relationship, things would have to change. “I called Dad. They should be on the way and as soon as I give the word, they’ll storm the building.”

“Good, now get the hell out of here.”

“Not without you.”

Why would he think she’d listen to him now when she hadn’t in the past? She wouldn’t leave after George caught them kissing that first day. He should’ve called a halt to the operation then.

“Don’t go to sleep on me, Conor.”

“I’m not asleep.” Aggravating woman.

“Call for backup then.”

“Can’t. I just tried my phone. No signal. Too much metal. I don’t suppose you have a radio handy?”

“It’s clipped to my belt.”

“They didn’t search you?” Surprise laced her words.

“Remember who we’re dealing with.”

“You have a point there.”

“They found my gun and didn’t look any further. They missed the radio. Get it and call for help.”

“Gotcha.”

Her hand slid between the back of the chair and the seat. To his way of thinking, she took an extra long time feeling around until she had the radio unclipped. Surely he was imagining things. This was serious. They could both end up dead. Jessica must understand the danger. At least he hoped she did.

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“Okay, got it, but I’m not calling until we’re both out of the way of flying bullets.”

He didn’t have time to argue the point. “Then cut me loose, but hurry.” If they became aware someone else had joined him, he might at least be able to put himself between her and danger.

“Uh, I don’t suppose you have a knife on you?” She didn’t have a weapon? What had she planned on doing? Throwing the stolen loot at the bad guys? He let out his breath, telling himself to calm down. They might get out of this yet.

“Strapped to my right calf. Try not to cut my leg off when you bring it out of the sheath.”

“Don’t tempt me, or I’ll cut a little higher,” she mumbled.

“What?” He wasn’t sure he’d understood her.

“Nothing. I’ll slide under the chair. See if you can bring your leg back so I can reach it.”

“Wait,” he whispered as Al started to turn around.

Barry said something, drawing the other man’s attention long enough for Jessica to scramble back to her position behind the chair, and for him to feign unconsciousness again.

Conor tried to make his breathing slower than normal, but it wasn’t easy when his heart raced ninety miles an hour. After a few moments, he glanced through partially lowered lashes.

“Okay. All clear. Jessica?”

“What?”

“If they see you, make a run for it. Don’t look back. Promise me.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Please.”

“Sure thing.”

A couple of grunts and Jessica’s hand snaked inside his pant leg. His muscles tensed as her silky softness caressed him. He bit back a groan. Damn it, this was no time to get sexually aroused. But if she didn’t hurry, that’s exactly what would happen.

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All thoughts of making love to her disappeared as she slid the knife from its holder. He kept the blade razor-sharp. He only hoped she realized that one wrong move and she could cut either one of them.

“You can breathe again,” she whispered.