Chapter Seventeen
THEY DROVE THROUGH the icy streets of Louisville in the back of a van that had a phone company logo emblazoned on the side—courtesy of a group of mysterious FBI agents who’d left it waiting for them in a parking lot at the airport. Audrey wriggled into a pair of jeans that were tighter than she normally wore and tried not to fall over as they went around a corner. Alex Parker was at the wheel in the front cab, leaving her and Killion alone in the back. Every mile closer to their destination seemed to prize them farther and farther apart. Killion’s expression grew increasingly cold and forbidding.
She hastily pulled off her halter dress and the bikini top beneath and tossed them on the floor. She was more worried about the temperature than the idea of Killion seeing her naked again, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was checking his weapon, pissed because she wasn’t doing what he told her to do. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.
Getting through customs had been easier than expected. Killion had kept his arm around her and she’d pasted a tired smile whenever the border control guy had glanced in her direction.
“I don’t want you to do this.” He finally broke the fraught silence.
He’d been trying to sway her decision ever since she’d announced her intentions. If Parker hadn’t agreed with her she was pretty sure she’d be locked up in a trunk somewhere.
“I heard you the first forty-seven times.” She thrust her arms into a long sleeved black T-shirt and pulled it over her head.
Killion looked at her now. “I thought we had something special.”
She eyed him narrowly. “Are you really going to use what happened between us to try and change my mind?”
“I thought you trusted me?”
Jesus, he was using everything she’d said against her—because that’s what a good operative would do. She fluttered her lashes at him. “I do trust you.”
“Then don’t do this,” he said sharply.
“I trust you to keep me safe.”
“And I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Cool eyes skimmed her body. “The only thing you should trust about me is my ability to get you off.”
Damn, she’d tried so hard not to lose her temper, but the guy was purposely poking her until she lashed out. “Because that’s as close as you like anyone to get, isn’t it. Your whole freaking life is ‘classified’ and you use that to your advantage.” But she’d had enough of her chain being yanked. It was his turn. “It was just sex. Get over yourself.”
He went to stand up, but there wasn’t enough room. “If that was just sex, I’m a used car salesman.”
And he’d do very well at that too.
“So what happens next, babe?” She braced her arm on the side of the van to keep from falling over. “We getting hitched and having babies? Shall I pick out the wedding china?”
His jaw tightened.
The pressure in her throat had a lot to do with the fact they’d never have the chance to do any of that. And the last thing she wanted him to realize was the idea of a life with him was ridiculously appealing. Even for a woman like her, smart, independent, self-sufficient and happy with her life—or at least she had been before someone had tried to stab her to death and frame her for murder.
She went on the offensive. “You gonna string me along with false promises?” She sneered. “Maybe you think I’m so desperate for a man you can control me with great sex?”
There was that glint in his eye again. “It was great sex.”
“That isn’t the point.” And it wasn’t. She wasn’t an idiot. He needed to start thinking of her as a partner, not as a potential suspect or victim. She wouldn’t be controlled by him dangling their “relationship” in front of her like a heart-shaped carrot. “I’m not yours to take care of, Patrick. You don’t get a say in my decisions.”
“Really?” A tic worked in his jaw. “Because I could still pack you off to a Black Camp the way I should have done at the start.”
“You wouldn’t do that to an innocent woman.”
His smile was edged with a slice of mean. “Trust me, Doc, I’ve done worse.”
“That’s what you tell everyone, isn’t it? It’s what you tell yourself. That you’re some soulless badass.”
“The first night you were attacked?” He broke into Spanish, his voice deeper, rougher than usual. “Yo se cuando estas mintiendo, chica, para que sepas.”
Her heart squeezed so forcefully she felt a stab of pain. Oh. My. God. She sat down before she fell over. It was him. Killion was the man who’d bound her wrists and ankles and scared her so badly she’d nearly stroked out. They stared at one another, the knowledge of what he’d done to her, of how badly he’d scared her vibrating between them. She stood and slapped him so hard the sound reverberated around the cab.
They both held their breaths, then he rubbed the side of his cheek. “Assault of a federal officer, sweetheart.” His smile moved all the muscles in his face, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Now I can hold you indefinitely.”
“Yeah?” Her nails cut into her palms. “That ship sailed after you came inside me the first five times, sweetheart. And don’t think I can’t read that carefully blank expression you’re so proud of.” It was starting to drive her nuts.
His eyes narrowed.
God, she wanted to hit him again, but he’d just sit there and let her. She shouldn’t be so attracted to a man who was capable of such deception and violence, but thinking about that first night, he hadn’t actually hurt her. He’d never physically hurt her. He was an ass, but he was an ass with a conscience no matter what he claimed. She reached out and smoothed her hand over the skin she’d struck. “Your blank expressions equal having something to hide, and in this case that’s your feelings for me.”
He captured her hand against his face. “I do have feelings for you.”
“I know. I have feelings for you, too. It doesn’t matter. I’m doing this anyway.”
A rap on the panel made her jump. “We’re a block away. Keep it down back there.”
Great. Alex Parker had heard every word.
Killion clenched his jaw. Then he indicated she come closer, so she leaned in. A jolt of surprise shot through her when he lifted her sweater and clipped a tiny transmitter to her T-shirt. Then he dragged her lips to his, pulling her tight against his body in a way that screamed primal possession. The kiss was hot and furious and spoke of all the ways they’d made love and all the reasons they had to stop.
Abruptly he held her away from him and stared deep into her eyes. “Don’t fucking die, Audrey.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to.”
* * *
AUDREY WORE A gray wool sweater, jeans, sneakers, and a hooded slicker pulled low over her face. She stood outside the wrought-iron gates and pressed the security buzzer. Gabriel lived in a huge mansion on River Road in the wealthy suburb of Glenview. He also had a horse farm out near Jamestown where he and the family had spent long summers and where she and Rebecca had practiced jumping and going on long carefree trail rides.
She felt like she was betraying all those happy memories by standing here in the rain.
“Who is it?” asked the guard.
A few years ago she’d been a regular visitor, but she didn’t recognize the guard’s voice, which was a good thing. “Marley. I was a friend of Mr. Brightman’s daughter in college—Rebecca. I wanted to talk to Mr. Brightman about an idea I had—”
“Call his secretary to arrange an appointment. Mr. Brightman doesn’t like to be disturbed at home.”
“No! Wait. Please, just tell him Marley is here. I’m sure he’ll see me.” She bit her lip.
There was hesitation, then a terse, “Wait there.”
Marley had been Rebecca’s cat. The sweet creature had died not long after Rebecca. Gabriel had buried it with his daughter. Audrey doubted the security guard would connect the two. But Gabriel should.
Would he call the cops? She hoped not.
She also hoped the guy was alone. Devon lived in a condo downtown. Her parents lived in Fern Creek, about ten minutes’ drive from her Jeffersontown apartment on the other side of the city. She ached thinking about them. She ached too, for what her best friend would say if she could see her now. She wouldn’t approve. Rebecca had idolized her father, just as he had adored his daughter. He’d taken her death hard.
Audrey pushed the memories aside. Regardless of loss and grief people still weren’t allowed to run around trying to kill other people. It was wrong. She tapped her toes with impatience and not a small amount of nerves as she waited.
The cold had been a bit of a shock after the heat of the tropics. But it was a relief to be on home soil. If nothing else, she had a better chance of surviving prison.
She pursed her lips. Dammit. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The gates started to open and she jolted.
“Come on up to the front door,” said the mechanical voice from the speaker.
“Thanks,” Audrey shouted through the rain and hurried up the driveway. The listening device Killion had attached allowed him and Parker to hear everything. Her safe word was “toffee.” If she said anything toffee-related Killion had promised to come in, guns blazing. Well, he hadn’t mentioned guns, but she was pretty sure that’s what it would involve.
Thought of guns and bullets brought memories of Rebecca crashing back. She clenched her fingers inside her pockets. You never forgot that sort of senseless violence. It was tattooed with photographic-like accuracy on your brain—like Hector with the knife, like Killion breaking that man’s neck on the beach under the hot Caribbean sun. Human civilization was supposed to be more evolved but clearly wasn’t. It was paradoxical to realize they couldn’t live in a peaceful society without strong military and law enforcement institutions backing it up.
A raindrop dripped on her nose and shot her back to the present where she trudged up the ridiculously long drive. The lawn was trimmed. Old stone statues placed strategically around the garden, short hedges adding shape to the landscape. Mature trees lined the mansion from the east side, hiding the house from the neighboring property.
All she needed to do was let Killion into the house undetected so they could find some incriminating evidence that tied Gabriel to the drug cartel.
Sounded easy.
So why was her throat dry and her heart pounding?
Because Audrey Lockhart was a biologist not a government agent. But she wouldn’t be a biologist if she couldn’t get her life back. And this was why she was standing in the cold January rain approaching the house of a Kentucky billionaire.
She braced herself to knock on the imposing red front door, but it flew open and there stood Gabriel, wearing a black sweater and jeans, tartan slippers on his feet. His face was handsome—eyes just like his daughter’s but a little more sunken now, the bones of his skull more prominent than the last time she’d seen him. There was no doubt this man had loved his child—maybe even enough to wish Audrey harm for not being the one to die in her place.
“Oh, my God, Audrey, is it really you?” Joy flashed through his eyes. “When Marten said ‘Marley’ was here, I hoped it might be you…” He reached out and dragged her against him, wet slicker and all. She held herself stiffly in his arms. “I’ve been so worried about you.” He pulled her inside the warmth of the house, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her from the road.
Audrey didn’t have to fake the tears that welled up. “I’m in a lot of trouble, Mr. Brightman.”
“Gabriel,” he insisted. “You always called me Gabriel.” He put his arm around her and guided her to the den. The room was dark and cozy with a huge TV screen that took up nearly one entire wall and a small fireplace that glowed with heat. Pictures of Rebecca were everywhere, including pictures of her and Rebecca together. “Let me take your coat.” He held out his hands and she slipped it off and handed it over, imagining Killion sitting in a nearby surveillance van, biting off Parker’s head at the slightest infraction.
“You aren’t worried to be alone with a vicious murderer?” Her voice wobbled.
Gabriel shook out the slicker and a thousand droplets of water spun off it. “I know you better than that, Audrey. The girl I know wouldn’t hurt a fly. Want a hot drink to warm up?”
Her support team had said not to drink anything in case it was drugged, but this was one of their little rituals and it would look strange if she said no, especially when she was shivering uncontrollably and her lips were probably blue from cold. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here…”
“You and I are the only ones in the house”—she could almost hear Killion’s teeth grinding—“except for Marten who’s on the gate. He stays in the apartment over the garage.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“They worked over the holidays so I sent the cook and housekeeper on a Caribbean cruise.” He smiled at her, brown eyes remaining a little sad. “The gardener wanted to visit his parents in Kenya so I gave him a ticket home.”
This was the man she knew and loved, kind and generous. Killion and Parker would probably suggest he was getting people out of the way so he could do bad things without witnesses. She hated that she was beginning to think like them, but she needed to be smart.
“What about Devon?” Her voice was hesitant as she followed him toward the kitchen.
“I barely see him. Have you spoken to your parents?” He shook his head. “Stupid question. Of course not. That’s the first place the cops would look for you.”
Audrey’s feet slammed to a stop. “I shouldn’t be here. My being here puts you in danger.”
Gabriel ignored her resistance and tugged her into the gleaming white kitchen, which had been remodeled since she’d last been here. “In danger? Me? Hardly. And helping you is what Rebecca would have wanted. What do I care about anything else?” His voice broke and he looked away.
“You still miss her.” Audrey covered his strong fingers with her own.
He squeezed her hand. “Every day. Every second of every hour of every day.”
The silence in the kitchen pressed down on them.
“I miss her, too.” She searched his face, looking for some hint of hatred or betrayal. “I wish I’d been the one who’d died that day, not her.”
He released her and shook his head as he poured milk into a jug and placed it in the microwave. “She wouldn’t have wanted that. She would never have wanted you hurt, and she would gladly have sacrificed herself for you. You know that.”
“I know. I know I do.” Audrey’s voice got tight and she could barely speak. He’d lost his wife about a decade ago. Rebecca had always thought her father would remarry but he never had. He seemed so lonely and Audrey hated being duplicitous. “At least you have Devon.”
His lips pinched, then he smiled tightly. “At least I have Devon.” He placed the milk back in the fridge. “This will make you feel better, and then you can tell me what the devil happened down in Colombia.” He pointed his finger at her. “My lawyers will help you fight this.”
Killion and Parker had decided it was best to tell him the truth up to a point.
“A local drug cartel sent someone to kill me. I was at work minding my own business when this horrible man chased and stabbed me.” She lifted her sweater and eased down her jeans’ waistband. The scab had fallen off leaving a delicate pink scar.
The blood drained from Gabriel’s face. “You could have been killed.”
“I almost died, but a stranger found me and helped me escape.”
“Do you know his name?”
She shook her head. “He left me with a family who nursed me when I became sick. When I could walk they put me on a cargo vessel and helped smuggle me back into the country, but I had nowhere to go. I saw the news about my student when I was in Colombia.” Her voice broke. “I can’t believe anyone would think I killed him.”
“Not even in self-defense?” Gabriel asked quietly.
She thought about Hector. Did Gabriel know about Hector? “We’d all defend ourselves when threatened, Mr. Brightman, but Mario was my grad student. He was a great kid.” A ripple of gooseflesh moved over her arms. “He looked after my frogs when I came back over Christmas, when Sienna was in the hospital.”
Gabriel’s eyes were wide and sympathetic. No guile or malice perceptible. “The police down there obviously made a terrible mistake. I will do everything in my power to help extricate you from this mess, Audrey, but you’re probably going to have to turn yourself in.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“There is another option,” he said carefully.
Her mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
He stirred cocoa powder and sugar into the hot milk—she watched him carefully to make sure he didn’t slip in any sedatives—and poured out two mugs. He handed her one. “I could get someone to create you a new identity. You’d never be Audrey Lockhart again though. You could never work in science again.”
What did it mean that he was willing to offer her this? Did that make him a good man, or a bad one?
“You know how hard I worked for my doctorate. I appreciate the offer, but I want my life back.”
He smiled and seemed pleased by her answer. “Come on. Let’s go sit in the den. I’ll call my lawyers in the morning, but tonight you get to relax in safety and not worry about anything. Okay?”
“I knew you’d help me, Gabriel.”
“We’ve been through a lot together. You’re like family now.” And for the first time since she arrived she noticed a twinkle of happiness in his eyes. Because she’d come to him, and he no longer had to search to get rid of her? Or because he was genuinely happy to try to help her?
She sipped her drink. She hated this constant questioning of motive. How could Killion deal with it on a daily basis without losing faith in humanity? She’d been at it for less than an hour and already felt corroded by deceit. Audrey forced herself to harden her heart. If Parker and Killion were wrong she could apologize to Gabriel later. If they were right she’d better hope he didn’t figure out she was onto him while they were alone in the mansion. She’d be dead before Killion even reached the front gate.