Chapter Nineteen
“WHY DIDN’T YOU just kill her?” Devon Brightman snapped into the phone. He paced in agitation. Why wouldn’t Audrey die? It wasn’t natural to be this lucky. He pulled at his hair.
“She went to the front door while I was taking care of your father. Let the spook in before I could get to her room. I couldn’t risk him seeing me. The only way we get away with this is if no one suspects either of us. I got out of there and called the cops on a burner from a few miles away, reporting suspicious activity. Then I came home.”
“Fuck.” His hand formed a fist.
“They disabled the security cameras, but we still have the video feed you set up.”
He grunted. He’d set up a camera in his father’s home office because he’d wanted to see what his old man was up to. To gain the upper hand and make sure his dad didn’t suspect his illegal activities. Now the cameras were going to help Devon get away with the perfect murder. “Did Gabriel say anything before he died?”
“He was asleep. I didn’t wake him to ask for any last words. It looks exactly like someone tried to stage his suicide. Audrey is going to be on America’s most wanted list. You have your alibi ready?” Tracey asked him.
“She’s asleep.”
“Go wake her up and fuck her blind. She has to swear you were there. Okay, I have a call coming through on my work cell. Cops will be knocking on your door shortly, but I’ll go to the mansion first and confirm before coming to you.” She hung up.
Devon slipped the battery out of the burner cell and wandered to the kitchen sink, stuffing the handset down the garbage disposal and grinding it to a pulp. He tried to fathom how he felt about his father’s death, but all he felt was the desperate need to get away with it. The guy had never given him any credit. Made him work his way through the company from the ground up. Ironically, Devon had learned enough about the intricacies of the shipping process to instigate his own drug smuggling operation. It probably wasn’t what Gabriel had had in mind when he’d started this charade.
His father had never been able to see him for what he really was—a fricking computer genius. He’d always just been second best to his sainted sister. Well, he’d shown her and his old man. Devon had started planning Rebecca’s death the day he’d buried his mother. His mother had understood him. She’d loved him. Once his mother had succumbed to cancer, his father had pushed him further away, and Devon had known exactly how to punish him.
Getting rid of Rebecca meant he was also one step closer to getting his hands on his money, all of it. He didn’t have to share with Miss Goody Two Shoes.
He’d figured killing Rebecca and Audrey together would make it look less targeted killing, more a crime of opportunity. He’d almost pissed his pants when the gun jammed. He’d never forget Audrey’s wide terrified eyes, or Rebecca’s screams of pain.
Afterward he’d befriended Audrey to make sure she didn’t suspect him. It had been fun stringing her along, then seducing and secretly making a fool of her. And then she’d turned around and dumped him.
Bitch.
He’d hidden his anger and played the long game. He’d worried that if his father died too soon Audrey would figure it out. Now he’d gotten rid of them both with one brilliant move, and no one would believe a word Audrey said.
He walked into his bedroom. Audrey’s little sister was stretched out under his silk sheets. He crawled in bedside her and trailed his lips up the indent of her naked back. Physically the sisters were alike. But Audrey was such a good girl and Sienna was such a bad one.
He knew how much Sienna’s issues troubled her more responsible sister. It had been easy to get Sienna to OD, whereas Audrey would barely drink a beer. He hadn’t let Sienna get high tonight even though she’d begged him. He’d wanted her mind clear for when the cops came. She stretched beneath him, and tried to turn onto her back, but he didn’t let her.
He gathered her dark hair in his fist and used it as an anchor. He was going to make sure this was a sex session she never forgot, especially if she had to relate it in detail to a bunch of smirking detectives who wanted to know exactly what he was doing when poor old daddy drew his last breath.
* * *
THEY’D SWITCHED CARS and driven a couple of miles from the scene. Neither he nor Audrey spoke.
Parker drove. Finally he asked, “What happened?”
“Brightman was dead when I got there. Shot in the head. Staged to look like a suicide.” Thoughts and doubts swirled through his mind. He squashed them. “Any news on Crista?”
Parker’s mouth pulled back tightly, and Killion knew what that meant. They’d both heard the explosion, listened as the signal was fried. He’d lied to himself earlier so he could do his job, but Crista was dead. And she was dead because she was his friend. A fist of emotion twisted his gut.
Audrey sat silently in the back seat, seemingly in shock.
Those doubts pierced his mind like shards of glass. Could he have been wrong about her? Had she killed Brightman? She could have left the mike in the bedroom, found a gun in the house, killed the guy, returned to get the mike, and then calmly let him in the front door.
She caught his gaze in the mirror, glared at him. “You think I killed Gabriel.”
“Did you?” he asked sharply.
“Yeah, I shot your chief suspect—the man I said was innocent.”
“You insisted on going in alone.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her lip trembled. “Yeah. I did.”
“You could be cleaning up loose ends.”
“Then you’re next, big boy. Better watch your back.” She stared out of the window, and her tears were reflected in the passing street lamps. He forced himself to harden his heart against the effect she had on him. Circumstantially, she could have committed all the murders. He had to start thinking with his brain and not his dick.
“Who called the cops?” asked Parker.
Killion looked at him. Then closed his eyes. Fuck. If Audrey was the assassin there’s no way she’d have called the cops while she was still in the building, because she was the one who’d end up in jail. They’d bypassed the security system, and the guard had been oblivious. Therefore, logically, the only person who would have called the cops was whoever killed Gabriel Brightman. Once again they’d set the biologist up to take the fall for a murder they’d committed, and once again he’d fallen for it.
“Shit. Audrey, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, shoulders pulled so tight to her frame they brushed the bottom of her ears. “It’s fine.” She continued to stare fixedly out the window.
Killion ran his hands over his face. “Did you hear anything? See anyone else in the house?”
She shook her head.
The idea the killer had been so close to her made him feel physically ill. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he wiped it away on the sleeve of his shirt.
“What Killion failed to mention,” Parker cut into the taut silence, “is he’s worried one of his best friends might have just been killed—probably by the same assassin we’re after. He wasn’t thinking properly.”
Audrey drew her knees up to her chin and refused to speak. Who could blame her? What the hell had he done?
Killion’s cell rang. It was Jed Brennan. He knew he didn’t want to hear whatever Jed had to say. “Yes?”
“I’m at the scene. It’s a mess. I’m sorry, Crista Zanelli didn’t make it. She died immediately. Car bomb. No one else was injured.”
Acid rose up Killion’s throat, burning the lining. Crista was a great person—generous, smart, and funny. She should have decades in front of her, a decent man in her life, kids. He forced the rage and grief back down along with the bile. He’d find the bastard responsible and put the fucker away.
“I spoke to her boss and told him it was possibly related to one of our cases,” said Jed. “Feds are in charge of the investigation, and someone from the Richmond field office is on their way. Her boss promised I’d have access to all the searches she ran over the last few days.”
So they could trace the burner number the woman had given Crista. It wouldn’t matter. The burner would be as dead as she was.
“Crista died because some bitch decided she was the weak link in getting to me, but she was wrong.” He told Jed the other bad news. “Gabriel Brightman is dead.”
“Shit,” Jed’s voice dropped lower. “Look, I’m dealing with some serious interagency politics here. And I can’t reveal what you’re doing so you guys need to lie low for a while. Regroup so we can figure this out. I’ll talk to Frazer.”
And Frazer needed to talk to the president to call off the heavily armed cops and feds who’d have Audrey Lockhart targeted as their chief suspect.
“We’ll lay low,” said Killion. Whoever killed Crista knew about the fact she and Killion were friends, which again pointed to an internal breach. How did Killion protect Audrey from his own people?
“Ah, damn. I just got more bad news.” Jed swore bitterly.
“What the hell else can go wrong?” Killion’s laugh was mirthless.
“Someone just leaked your face and name to the media.”
What the fuck?
Killion turned to Parker. “I thought you turned off the security cameras?”
“I did.” Parker frowned. “I guess we just confirmed what the other weird signal was.”
Killion sat there stunned. This was the end of his career. “Can you get a news blackout on this?” he asked Jed.
“I’ll try, but some hacker put your information on the web along with your name and Audrey’s. They’re saying you killed Brightman. Sorry, pal, looks like your clandestine days are over.”
* * *
AUDREY SAT IN the back of the car and stared out the window, trying to forget the last image she had of Gabriel Brightman. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his dark hair, the bright crimson of blood, and the dirty gray of brain matter dripping down the headboard.
She heard Killion unzip his jacket. “I picked up Brightman’s laptop,” he told Parker.
“Good. We’re going to go get you some transportation. Then I’m driving back to DC to open the laptop and see if I can get into Brightman’s files without anyone knowing.”
“You’re leaving us here?” Audrey didn’t like that idea.
“You’ll be safe with Killion.”
She hunched into herself. She didn’t want to be alone with Killion. How could he be her lover one minute and suspect her of murder the next? How could she be so attracted to such a smart-assed, alpha-male who lived amid constant danger and who himself killed with such grim and seemingly casual mastery?
And yet she was the one suspected of being the villain? A woman who went out of her way to save anything she damn well could. She hated him, hated his job, hated the fact her life was in ruins. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she refused to cry.
“Can’t you examine the laptop here?” Killion sounded equally thrilled at the idea of being alone with her.
“I could,” said Parker, “but I might need backup and equipment to deflect any counter attack. It’s possible there’ll be nothing more substantial than a Windows firewall, but I don’t want to be taken by surprise or lose valuable evidence by rushing it. Someone was spying on Gabriel Brightman, and they might also be spying on his laptop—this could lead us right back to them.”
Killion grunted.
“Anyway, you’re more than capable of disappearing and protecting Audrey. It’s easier if it’s just the two of you.”
Killion grunted again.
A rough looking roadhouse appeared up ahead, with a line of motorbikes out front and a parking lot full of trucks. Audrey assumed they’d drive past, but Parker pulled in.
“Wait here,” he told them.
Parker got out of the car, and the silence he left behind was deafening.
After a few tense moments, Killion bit out, “I owe you an apology.”
“Which thing in particular are you apologizing for? Attacking me that first night? Accusing me and Gabriel of conspiring to murder and somehow being wrong about us both? Or accusing me of murder—again?” Rage poured through her.
“I’m not the one who came after you with a knife. I’m not the one who blew Gabriel’s brains all over his bedroom wall.”
Her stomach churned, but she would not throw up. “Just be careful who you point the finger at next. Or better still, pick someone you really don’t like, because they’re likely to get attacked and murdered shortly afterwards.”
He turned in the seat to face her, and his expression was closed down tight. “I’m sorry for all of it, okay? I’m sorry I attacked you that first night. I thought I was doing you a favor by giving you a warning. You were supposed to contact your boss and get the fuck out. That’s what a professional would have done.”
Now it was her fault she wasn’t a professional assassin? “Do you even hear yourself? Who in their right mind would have thought a frog biologist would be a likely candidate to be an assassin?”
He turned away to face the front. His voice was flat. “It made sense at the time. Do you need me on my knees begging forgiveness, maybe groveling in the dirt?” Suddenly there was too much emotion in his voice. “I put you in danger, and I got one of my best friends and Gabriel Brightman killed. I’m a fucking idiot. This is not news to me, but apparently it took you by surprise. Again. Sorry. I fucked up.”
She twisted the gold ring on her pinkie. She may not be a killer or a government operative, but she was smart. Killion was too. She was furious with him, but he was hurting. The two of them fighting wasn’t going to solve anything. “You say they used the poison from my frogs in the lab?”
“Yep.” It was tight as a curse.
“And someone put money into the bank to make it look like me?”
“Only half a million dollars.”
Who would do that? The only connection between her and Gabriel was… “It’s Devon, isn’t it?” He was the only one who made sense.
“He’s my next guess,” Killion agreed. “But we’ve already established I don’t have a good track record on this case. Why the fuck didn’t I just drop it when Frazer told me to?”
She didn’t know who Frazer was, but there was a bigger issue to worry about. She leaned forward and grabbed his arm. “Devon is dating my sister.”
Killion wrapped his fingers over hers and warmth stole through her. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until he touched her.
“She’ll be fine, and even if she isn’t, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Audrey pulled away. “But she’s my sister.”
“So what?”
“So what?”
Killion turned to face her again. “There’s nothing you can do. You and I are both wanted for murder and the first place they’re gonna stake out is your parents’ home and phone lines.”
“We must be able to warn her.”
“And say what? ‘I know the cops said I killed Gabriel Brightman, but it was actually Devon—the guy you’re dating.’ Well, maybe not Devon himself, probably his hired hand because if he has real brains at all he’ll have an airtight fucking alibi!”
Killion’s response grated. Sienna was in danger. Devon could threaten her entire family. “We have to do something.”
“We are doing something. We’re regrouping.”
“Feels a hell of a lot like running away,” she said bitterly.
She watched his shoulders stiffen. “There’s nothing you can do, Audrey. Give it up.”
“Do you even have a family?
“Yes,” he bit out. “I have a family.”
“Who you never see.”
“Because I don’t want shit like this to happen to them.” He made it sound like she was the crazy one.
She wrapped her arms around herself and huddled into her seat. “Guess what? That’s not being part of a family. That’s just being part of the same gene pool.”
A knock on her window had her jumping an inch off the seat. Then her door opened and Parker held out a leather jacket and a bike helmet to her. Both were surprisingly heavy. Killion climbed out and stretched as if they hadn’t just eviscerated each other with words.
“Got you a ride,” Parker said. “Cops won’t be looking for you on one of these.”
Killion pulled on a leather jacket with some skull design on the back, followed by a black helmet.
“We’re going to be bikers?” Audrey was aghast. The closest she’d been to a motorcycle was watching Sons of Anarchy on DVD.
Parker tossed the keys in the air and Killion snatched them up. “Which bike?”
“The Royal Enfield.”
Killion whistled. “Nice.”
“I’m not getting on that thing,” Audrey told them.
Parker took the jacket from her fingers and held it out. She put her arms through the sleeves. The jacket was a little big and smelled of beer and cigarettes, but it kept out the biting January wind.
“She’s going to need gloves.” Killion pulled on the black leather gloves he’d worn when they’d searched Gabriel’s house earlier.
“I have some in the trunk.” Parker went to the back of the car and rummaged through a gym bag. Handed her some gloves that were way too big for her.
“How’d you get them to part with the bike?” Killion asked as he swung his leg over the saddle of the monstrous bike.
“I offered to pay a guy double what it was worth if I beat him at arm wrestling.”
The roadhouse door opened, and two enormous men walked out.
“That the guy?” asked Killion.
“Yep.” Parker sounded unconcerned as he slipped the helmet over Audrey’s head and tightened the straps.
Sound was muffled inside the helmet. The thing felt strange and unwieldy, like her head might topple from her shoulders.
“Hold onto Killion and mimic how his body moves,” Parker told her, seemingly unconcerned about the three other bikers who’d come out onto the porch. “Don’t fight the movement of the machine.”
Sounded like some crazy metaphor to her.
Killion revved the engine and looked at her. “What’s it gonna be, Aud? You gonna trust me one last time?”
She stared into his blue eyes for a long moment not knowing what she was looking for. But one thing was certain, she couldn’t stay here. She slipped her leg over the back of the saddle, grabbed onto his waist as he immediately pulled away.
She looked over her shoulder and saw some of the bikers approach the man they’d left behind. “What about Alex?” she asked.
“I’d be more worried about any bastard stupid enough to take him on,” he shouted over the blast of the wind. “Alex Parker can take care of himself.”