Lethal Lies

  She winced. “What about that fake ID? Your real picture is on it, right?”

  Heath grinned, flashing a dimple. “Apparently my brother Shane has sticky fingers. He’s dropping by and filching the ID, and then he’s coming here to meet you.”

  She straightened. “To meet me? Why?” she breathed.

  Heath set down his coffee and turned to face her. “Because I’m completely in love with you and don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

  Her chest heated. “Heath.” Could fantasies really come true?

  He cupped her face. “I’m still on the run, and you know the whole story. I plan on taking the fight to Madison and Cobb soon. If you want to wait for me at the ranch in Montana, where you’ll be very safe, I’m fine with that. But you and I are the future.”

  She swallowed, almost afraid to believe the words. He was everything she’d ever wanted, and he came with a family that was pretty amazing. While he wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law, she knew her father would’ve liked him. “I want to stay with you.”

  His body settled. “I should let you know that we’re about broke after this last op.”

  She chuckled. “Figures.”

  He smiled again. “Yeah. If we can get the vehicles back from Malloy, we’ll be better off. I think he’ll turn those over since we didn’t steal them.”

  Never in her life had she figured she’d fall for a guy who stole vehicles and played around on the dark web. She wasn’t sure even how to access the dark web and only knew about it from television shows. “Malloy likes you guys and will try to help. Speaking of law enforcement, Reese called when you were making coffee.”

  “Oh?” Heath said, gently playing with her hair.

  “Yeah. Told me good luck and to be careful. Also said you weren’t such a bad guy.” Reese had actually sounded like he grudgingly respected Heath. “Then he told me he was going on a monthlong vacation somewhere warm. I wished him well.” Reese and Loretta would’ve made a solid couple. Anya missed her sister, and especially missed what they could’ve had through life.

  Heath’s thumb swept across her jaw in a comforting touch as if he knew her thoughts. “If we have a girl someday, we could name her after your sister.”

  Anya jolted. Whoa. “We’re having babies now?”

  “Not now.” He leaned over and kissed her head.

  Her heart rolled over.

  He gently slid the ring off her finger.

  She frowned. “Wh—”

  “Doin’ it right.” He took her mug and placed it on the table before sliding down onto one knee. “I’ll love you forever, Anya Best. Marry me, and I promise I’ll protect you with everything I have and everything I am. No matter what, I’m yours.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “Yes.”

  His face lit up in a way she’d never seen as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It felt right this time.

  “I love you, Heath.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, going deep and taking his time. Finally, he let her breathe. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear.” He kissed the ring on her finger. “You and me, Anya. Always.”

  EPILOGUE

  Denver redirected the Internet search for any new facilities built in the Pacific Northwest, concentrating on power requirements. He didn’t know when, and he wasn’t sure how, but he was gonna find Madison and Cobb’s new facility. When he did, he had a decision to make. Could he take them out on his own?

  Upstairs his brothers slept with women they’d found and decided to love.

  That was a good thing.

  Well, it might be disastrous. But he’d do everything within his power to make sure it wasn’t.

  Forces were closing in on them, and he could feel his heart rate accelerate in response. It was time to take the fight to his enemies.

  But what about his brothers?

  He wiped a hand across his brow, not sure what to do. If he could take care of the problem on his own, he would. Yet he’d need a good plan. Even a great plan . . . and he wouldn’t make it back. That was okay. If his brothers lived . . . that was okay.

  At the thought, he breathed himself into a relaxed state. The basement computer center suited him, with its quiet hum and low light.

  For years he’d belonged in quiet and darkness, and he was fine with that. Once, and only once, had he found the chance to find anything else. He’d given that up—he’d given her up. Noni Sweeten was smart, kind, and way too gentle for a life with him. He’d spent three amazing months with her, and he didn’t regret a second.

  Well, until he’d ended things and left her. That . . . he regretted. But he’d had no choice. No way could he allow Noni into his life and into the danger.

  He didn’t blame Ryker and Heath for making a different choice.

  But they had pain ahead, and if there was a way for him to shield them from that, he’d do it in an instant.

  So he had to come up with a plan.

  The door to the basement opened, and heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. Two sets.

  He quickly switched screens.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Ryker asked, his voice gruff. “It’s past midnight.”

  Denver partially turned to see his oldest brother in faded sweatpants . . . with a gun tucked into his waist. “Can’t.”

  Heath was right behind Ryker, his brown hair tousled, his greenish blue eyes clear, and a knife in one hand.

  When would they be able to leave bed without a weapon? Denver sighed. “You guys should be sleeping.” With their women. Ryker was already engaged, and Heath was close enough, considering he’d already purchased a ring for Anya. “Go back to bed.”

  Ryker rubbed the dark scruff across his jaw and prowled closer, one long line of menace. “Have you found anything?”

  Denver wanted to lie—but didn’t know how to do that to his brothers. “Maybe.”

  “What is it?” Heath asked, his hard chest bare in the dim light.

  “I’ve been following the money trail—” Denver paused as an alarm beeped from one monitor. His head swiveled, and he turned toward it. “What the fuck?”

  Another alarm blared. His chest heated, and his breath panted out. He quickly typed in a series of commands. “Google search on us . . . detailed. Shit.” He typed even faster, bringing up a picture of . . . him.

  “What the hell?” Ryker leaned over his shoulder. “Denver?”

  Denver stopped breathing. The picture was one of he and Noni over a year ago with the Portage Glacier in the background. He had been smiling, and he had his arm around her. The wind had tousled her long black hair, and her even darker eyes had sparkled with fun. “Noni,” he breathed.

  Heath pushed closer to him. “I thought you destroyed all pictures of your time in Alaska.”

  “I did.” Yet he obviously had not. He clicked on the link to read:

  “Denver: I need you and your detective agency. We’re in trouble. Here’s my updated schedule and where you can find me. Noni.”

  He stopped breathing completely. “Oh God.” The woman had given her entire itinerary. Anybody looking for him, in any capacity on the Net, even the dark web, would find her instantly.

  “What the holy hell is she doing?” Ryker snapped.

  Denver shook his head. “I don’t know.” A fist dropped into his gut.

  Heath leaned over to type in a series of commands. “She should be in Idaho tonight. Denver. Anybody looking for us, anybody with an iota of facial recognition, will see this. Madison and Cobb probably already have it.”

  Denver leaped from the chair as fury heated through him. “I have to go.” He only had hours, but he had to get to Noni before his enemies did.

  If not, she was dead.

  Denver Jones walked away from Noni, his first and only love. With dangerous and deadly forces from his past hot on his trail, it was the only way he could protect her. But now, out of the blue, when Noni needs his help, he’ll do anything to be by her side . . . even risk his own life to save hers
. . .

  A PREVIEW OF TWISTED TRUTHS FOLLOWS.

  CHAPTER

  1

  Noni tossed her laptop and stack of maps on the faded patchwork bedspread, her eyes gritty and her temples aching. The battered electric heater rattled from the corner of the hotel room, providing a surprising amount of heat. Her fingers tingled as they started to warm up.

  Winter blew snow around outside, and ice scattered against the window. She shivered and knelt one knee on the bed, spreading out the closest map. Where was her pen? Scrambling for her bag on the floor, she drew out a black marker and made several notations through the mountainous Pacific Northwest. Her heart raced, and her lungs compressed. She had to be closing in. Then she crossed out several towns, including Seattle, before pulling her phone from her pocket and hitting speed dial for number one.

  Static crackled, and then an expletive echoed as it sounded like the phone was dropped. Something shuffled. “Eagle? This is Sparrow,” finally came over the line.

  Noni rubbed her aching head. “Hi, Aunt Franny. I thought we agreed to forget the nicknames.”

  “So did I, dear, but Verna likes being called Hawk Two.”

  Why would they have a Hawk Two when there wasn’t a Hawk One? Noni swallowed down a sharp retort. “We have to get serious, Fran. This is dangerous.” Though she’d done everything possible to make sure the two older women were out of the line of fire. “Where are you?”

  “I just set up camp in Portland. Verna should be pulling into Salt Lake City any second now,” Franny said. “I’m staying in the Motel Burnside just north of town. My meeting with the private detective is tomorrow morning—he has already left Seattle and is heading here.”

  “Good. I’m going to scout around here in Coeur d’Alene before backtracking to Spokane in a day or so.” Though her sources, ones she hadn’t revealed to Franny, had revealed her prey had friends in Coeur d’Alene. Now all she had to do was find them. Somehow.

  “What about the FBI office in Snowville?” Franny asked.

  Noni swallowed. “That’s a last resort.” If she contacted the FBI, the agents would immediately send out an Amber Alert for a missing child. If that happened, Richie might kill the baby. She couldn’t let that happen. Plus, the law wasn’t exactly on her side right now. God, she hoped she wasn’t making the hugest mistake of her life by handling this herself.

  “Any news from Denver?” Franny asked, sounding weary.

  “No.” Noni lifted her chin. “He gave me a fake last name, so all I have is his picture and basic information. But I’ve posted a search for him all over the Internet, even on dating sites. He has to see something.” Her chest hurt to even think about the asshole who’d broken her heart so easily, but she needed his help, and she’d take the pain to save the missing baby. “I’ll find him.”

  “Honey,” Fran cleared her throat. “He’s probably no better than that first private detective we hired. The one who stole our savings.”

  Noni’s shoulders slumped. “Denver has to be better, and I’ll get our money back. I promise.” How, she had no clue. The first detective she’d found had been a fraud, and he’d taken their entire twenty thousand dollars. They’d been desperate enough to let him since Sharon’s baby had been kidnapped after she’d died in childbirth.

  Poor Sharon. The question of how she’d really died would have to be answered later—after Noni made sure her baby was safe from its dick of a father.

  The second detective Noni had hired had at least traced Richie and the baby to somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. The PI was heading to Portland, but Noni’s gut and source back home had told her to head to northern Idaho. “Get some sleep, Franny.”

  “I mean it. Let’s forget Denver what’s-his-real-name-who-the-hell-knows-because-he’s-a-damn-liar and just do this ourselves.”

  “Let’s go back to calling him ‘dickhead,’ Noni said, even her arms feeling heavy. She’d met Denver while he was on a case, and he had seemed like a bloodhound. He ultimately found the guy he was looking for. Then he’d left. “We might be taking on an entire gang, Auntie. Denver is tough enough to do it.”

  “I don’t know,” Franny said, drawing out the words. “I guess, worst case scenario, we can just stand behind him if the bullets start flying.”

  “Absolutely,” Noni agreed, pushing the map out of the way. In fact, she wanted to shoot Denver herself. “Get some sleep. I’ll call in tomorrow.”

  “Night, sweetie,” Franny said, disconnecting the call.

  Noni set the phone on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed. She should get out her notes and maps and start working. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

  A whisper of sound had them flipping back open.

  Then he stood inside the room, quietly shutting the door against the freezing cold. The entire atmosphere electrified. Holy crap on a mutinous cracker. Denver was there. Really there. After a year of having no clue whether or not he was alive, the sight of him seemed surreal. Was she dreaming about him? Again? How could he really be there?

  “Noni,” he breathed, his gaze settling on her.

  “I locked that door,” she mumbled, shoving to sit up, her mind blanking to avoid the rush of emotion pouring through her.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled, his eyes turning a furious blue.

  She blinked. So much for her secret little fantasy of him finding her, begging forgiveness, and professing that his heart and soul belonged to her. Not that she’d take him back, anyway. But still. Her temper rolled from banked to a slow burn. “Excuse me?” She still sounded groggy.

  “Pack. Now.” He edged to the side and moved the heavy curtain out of the way.

  She shook her head, trying to grasp reality. It had been so long since she’d seen him, and within seconds, her entire body had flared to life. Her heart thundered. How could he still affect her like this?

  He turned back to her, his head moving slowly as he must’ve realized she hadn’t jumped into action. Stress cut lines next to his mouth. “Noni. Now.”

  That dangerously deep and dark voice. She still heard the low tenor in the times between sleep and wakefulness . . . when dreams took her under. Like he’d taken her under.

  Somehow, he looked even tougher than before. Even more remote and distant.

  His black hair brushed the collar of his battered leather jacket over ripped jeans leading to snow-covered motorcycle boots. A shadow covered his square jaw, showcasing each hard angle. His dark brows were arched, his eyes a sizzling blue, and his full lips set into a thin line. Tension choked the air around them, rolling through the room with a discernible heat.

  She couldn’t stop looking at him, watching him like a starving woman would a cheesecake.

  There was something unreal about him—an elusive, too-male, predatory quality she’d never been able to define. Yet she felt it. She felt him—the danger and the kindness, the complexity and simplicity. All characteristics he’d probably deny . . . if he bothered to talk at all.

  “Noni,” he snapped.

  She came fully awake.

  He was pissed?

  Hurt shocked through her, and she shoved it away. “Sorry to bother you and whatever woman you’re lying your ass off to right now, but I need your help.” She pushed from the bed. Her knees wobbled, but she held herself upright.

  He breathed out, and his nostrils flared. “Later.” Angling for her, he shoved the maps and manila files off the bed and into her bag.

  She’d forgotten. How had she forgotten how quickly he could move? “We’re not going anywhere,” she snapped.

  He turned, and she instantly found herself up against the wall, his hand flat against her upper chest, his face leaning down toward hers. Different flecks of blue made up his spectacular eyes, each one glittering with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.

  She was pinned easily—too easily—in place. This close, she could smell him. Male and forest and leather and something that was all Denver.

  He didn’t spea
k again. No order, no sarcasm, no words. He just looked at her as if he could compel her into obedience with his intensity.

  There was a time she’d responded to his looks. She’d read him, almost felt him. He wasn’t much for speaking, and she’d learned to interpret his movements and expressions. Because he had mattered to her.

  Apparently she hadn’t mattered a whit to him.

  At the reminder, her head snapped back. Her stomach clenched. He had finally bothered to show up and now was giving her orders? Oh, hell no. She tried to struggle, and he kept her still and against the wall with one hand spread across her sternum.

  His strength was unreal. There was a time she’d marveled at it. Not now.

  His days of touching her were over. She pivoted and shot her knee toward his groin, fully intending to connect.

  She failed.

  His free hand grasped the back of her thigh, shoving her leg to the side and stepping into the vee of her legs. The full length of him, heated and hard, trapped her in place.

  She gasped at the contact, sparks shooting through her. Her body warmed and then flashed to a boil, all from one simple touch. All from his nearness—something she’d so desperately missed. There were times she wished she hadn’t even known him . . . that she didn’t now know what it felt like to be protected by him. “Damn it, Denver.”

  His nose nearly touched hers. “Are you crazy?”

  Maybe. Probably. She’d been off since he’d shattered her heart. “Let me go.”

  “Can’t. You have no idea what you’ve done.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, the fierce anger on his face making him look like a stranger. Not the man she thought she’d known.

  Her mind spun. “What I’ve done?” Wait a minute. All of the thoughts, all of the fears of the last year, bombarded her. How many precious moments had she wasted wondering about him? Asking herself why he’d left without a word. Why would posting about him on the Internet cause problems? “Oh, God. You are married.”

  His gaze narrowed even further. “That’s ridiculous.”