The Right Kind of Trouble (22 page)

Then, to her surprise, the irritation faded and he reached up, cupping her face in his hand. “I sure as hell won't take chances with
you.
”

His lips brushed over hers. “You're mine, Moira. Nobody is going to hurt what's mine—not if I can stop it.”

A sigh shimmered out of her as he let her arm go and they broke apart. “Fine,” she whispered, her voice thick. “So. Let's … um … go.”

She turned away and started up the path. Moira made it precisely two steps before a hand in the back of her jeans caught her and brought her to a halt. “Not so fast.”

Then he whistled under his teeth.

Frost came padding up.

As she turned to scowl at him, Gideon knelt down in front of the dog, spoke in a low voice.

Front gave a low yip, too quiet to really be called a bark.

Then she took off into the night, her white coat making her stand out like an eerie shadow.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Making sure we're not walking into a place that's been set to blow up around us, for one.” He glanced over at her. “I've done that once—I'd just as soon avoid it.”

“I'm telling you—Kevin Towers is too chicken shit to hurt me.” Miffed, she folded her arms over her chest and stared into the darkness, trying to see her dog.
Her
dog. The dog Gideon had found her, because she'd asked him.

“Yeah? Then what about the guy he's working with?”

Moira whipped her head and stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the guy pulling the strings, Mac. And somebody is pulling the strings—it's just a bigger stage than I thought.”

“Again … what are you talking…”

But Frost came running back up to them. She gave another short, quick bark.

“Did Timmy fall down a well?” Moira asked, unable to stop herself.

Gideon cocked a brow. “If he did, you're going after him. No, that just means she didn't smell anything that concerns her.” He studied the dog's ears, which were still alert, studied the way she stood. “But she's … edgy.”

He didn't speak dog—that was Zeke's specialty, but he'd been around canines enough to know when one was on skittish. Frost wasn't scared. The dog was about as calm and steady as they came, the perfect match for Moira in a million ways.

But something had her alert.

“You stay behind me,” Gideon said, firing a look at Moira. “And if I tell you to
run
, you do it. Otherwise, I'll have Frost take you down.”

Moira started to laugh, but the sound faded away into the night.

“No,” Gideon said grimly. “I'm not joking. She's big enough to do it and she's trained. You wanna test me?”

“Ah … no. No, I don't.” She tucked her hands into her back pockets and rocked onto her heels, shifting her gaze from him to the dog.

Gideon watched as she withdrew one hand from her pocket and snapped her fingers.

Frost trotted happily over to her and Moira started scratching her ears. “You wouldn't take me down, would you?”

Gideon blew out a breath and focused on the house. The dog would respond to a
protect
command, but he was kind of torn on who would out-stubborn the other … Moira or Frost.

Keep her safe,
he thought in a silent prayer. He didn't do much of that these days, hadn't ever since he'd driven away from McKay's Treasure, the day after Moira told him it was over.

But special circumstances sometimes warranted it.

“We'll keep to the tree line.” He took point, using the light of the moon as he made his way toward the house, taking care to be quiet. Of course, he wasn't sure it mattered. Moira trampled on every leaf, every branch. Once, he stopped and looked back at her. “Are you trying to announce that we're here?”

She smiled at him sweetly. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I was kind of not around the day they taught you how to walk like a damn ghost.”

He had to bite back a snort and slowed his steps a little, giving her more time to pick where she put her feet.

It helped. A little.

Still, there was no sign anybody heard them.

But somebody
was
in there.

Gideon had seen a shadow in the window two or three times now and he was torn between sending Moira back to the truck or just making her wait here in the darkness with Frost.

A familiar, buzzing sort of noise filled the air, and he glanced back.

The glow lit the night like a miniature star and he shot out a hand, grabbing Moira's phone.

“He—”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and hauled her deeper into the trees. Not far, just a few feet, but he stood there, waiting until she got the point before he let go.

“What is
wrong
with you?” Moira glared at him.

“Again, are you trying to announce we're here?”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Moira planted her hands on his hips. “I'll humor you—lets say he does have nefarious plans. We don't even know he's
here
!”

“Somebody is.” Gideon tugged her closer and pointed toward the house. “Watch the window, second from the left.”

As she did that, he pulled up her messages and read the one she'd just gotten.

I thought you were coming. If you're not, tell me because I can't wait forever. I'm sorry, Moira, but there are some problems I've got to deal with.

Disgusted, Gideon just shook his head. He almost passed the phone back to her, but then, as an idea formed, he started to smile. He tapped back a response.

Moira saw what he was doing and she craned her head, trying to read the message.

“Now you're the one announcing we're here,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“No, I'm telling him you're almost here. I want to see what he does. Now put that in your pocket and don't touch it again until this is done.” He could all but hear her gritting her teeth over that comment, but she didn't argue. One thing he'd always adored about Moira McKay was her brain. She was smart. Once he'd pointed out the potential danger, even if she didn't want to believe him, she'd been willing to let him do what he did best.

As he waited, his eyes skimmed the house, every sense alert.

His gaze swept back to the house just as the door opened and he held his breath, hand resting on the butt of his weapon as he strained to see past the darkness.

Just one man.

Too far off to make out much of anything else about him.

As he descended the stairs, the light from the house provided some illumination but it only allowed Gideon to see the man's profile—and his hair.

“That's him,” Moira whispered.

“It's dark,” he muttered.

“The hair.”

Narrowing his eyes, Gideon focused on the Mohawk.

“It was a fundraiser for cancer. Him and about twenty others did it. A local boy…”

“Okay, okay. Hush.”

Hell, taking Moira out on a stakeout would never happen.

She rested a hand on his side and leaned in as she peered around him. The soft weight of her body pressed to his and he clenched his jaw, reminding himself they had problems. He needed to focus on the problems they had to deal with before he and Moira could work this out once and for all. And tonight, at least, they needed to deal with this—with Kevin—before he could drive her back to Ferry and get her flat on her back again.

So … focus.

By his feet, the dog whined. It wasn't one of those anxious ones, it was almost as if the dog was trying to get him to do something.

As the man out in front of the house swung back around and headed inside, Gideon eased out of the shadows of the trees and took her hand. “Come on. Let's figure this out.”

*   *   *

He watched the remote feed streaming across his computer.

It pissed him off that he was here instead of out at the cabin, but he understood priorities.

His house wasn't particularly a home.

He'd avoided making anything a home, because he had no place to make one. Everything that should have been his had been stolen from him and that was just the way of it.

But that didn't mean it had to
stay
the way.

He could get back what was his.

He was close.

So close.

“What are you
doing
?” he muttered to himself as Kevin Towers paced back and forth across the living room. The carpet was ratty and old and needed to be replaced, but that was a task that would wait for later. Much later.

This place, it too was rightfully his and one thing Kevin had done right was secure it for him. It had cost a pretty penny, far more than it was worth, but he had money. He had, after all, a generous employer, and few expenses.

He smirked, amused with himself.

But the smile faded as Kevin stopped in front of the table.

Finally
.

They didn't much look like they were family, but the relationship was distant and watered down. Towers was very much from the idiot side of the family branch, truly. The stupid hair, for one.

Eyes narrowed, he waited for his long-lost cousin to reach out and take the bottle.

Please don't go helping yourself to my food and drink. Buy your own.
He'd told Kevin that as he shoved the food he'd bought just for this occasion into the cabinets, including something he'd noticed the man had a fondness for.

The chocolate almonds were a specialty item. Nothing like them in stores. Then there was the whiskey. One of the two would get him. Kevin had a weakness for sweets and for the bottle.

Rubbing his fingers together, he leaned closer, waited.

And Kevin spun away, yanking his phone from his pocket.

“No, no, no, you stupid…” He blew out a breath and lifted his face to the sky.

If the fool didn't make it easy for him, he'd just have to take Kevin out up close and personal. He didn't want to do that.

So caught up in his aggravation, he missed Kevin's action until it was almost too late.

He was … texting?

A knot settled in the gut of the man on the chair.

In a hotel room from nearly an hour away, he reached out and adjusted the control that would let him hear.

But Kevin said nothing.

He just started to pace, his agitation growing.

When Kevin Towers burst out of the house without touching any of the poisoned sweets or the doctored alcohol, his long-lost cousin started to cuss in long, ugly streams.

It took far longer for him to calm down than normal and when he finally did, so much time had passed that Kevin was back in the house, back to pacing even.

And Kevin was no longer alone.

Through the speakers came Kevin's voice, almost
relieved
, as he said, “Fuck, you scared me to death.”

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“You realize I want to
beat
you to death?” Moira demanded, glaring at Kevin.

He flinched, his face pale. Kevin was a big guy and he looked even bigger with that ridiculous Mohawk. If he'd learn to find some balls, he'd probably cut an impressive figure, tall and broad-shouldered, a green-eyed blond with a dimpled smile.

But he had no spine.

That wasn't a particularly attractive trait, Moira supposed.

“I…”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don't want excuses or lies. I want answers.”

She was surprised when he turned his head and stared out the window. “I know,” Kevin said quietly.

He shot a quick look at Gideon. “Guess you brought him to arrest me.”

The man was an idiot, Moira decided. How had she not seen that? Gideon wouldn't be able to arrest him—Kevin
would
be arrested, unless he magically had all that money stuffed away somewhere and could return it and even then, she didn't plan on letting him off with a smack on the hand. But the crimes he'd committed had been in Jackson, far outside of Gideon's jurisdiction. Not to mention that they were in Louisiana now, not Mississippi. She might not work in law enforcement, but once you crossed state lines, things got dicey.

But maybe Kevin wasn't thinking straight. He'd seen Gideon, recognized him, and assumed. She wasn't surprised Kevin had recognized Gideon. Most of the people who worked at headquarters came to Ferry at least once a year if not twice—for the annual Christmas party and for a Memorial Day barbecue. And Gideon was always there.

Has always been …

Gideon shifted his weight, and she could practically
hear
his low, steady voice, pointing out that practical things like Kevin's crimes had been committed outside his jurisdiction. Before he could say anything, she placed a hand on his arm.

She wanted Kevin freaked out, not relaxing. “Whether or not I have you arrested is all going to depend on what you do in the next few minutes, Kevin. I suggest you start talking.”

All he did was nod.

When he moved deeper into the house, Gideon shot out a hand and caught her arm, eyes narrowed. She gave him a look.

It said,
Trust me
.

But Gideon chose not to acknowledge it.

She found Kevin sitting in what had to be the living room with his elbows on his knees and a pensive look on his face as he studied a bottle of liquor. Moira felt her jaw literally
dropping
when she saw recognized the bottle.

Kevin Towers might make good money working for her, but if he was having the kind of money issues she suspected he was having, then why did he have a bottle of Macallan 25 sitting in front of him? There was a glass beside it, like he'd been about ready to have a drink when they showed up.

“Interrupting something?” She gave him a sharp-edged smile. “Is that what you're doing with the money you've been stealing from me? Buying booze?”