Lethal Lies

  “Uh-huh.” His phone buzzed, and he ignored it.

  “Are you going to answer that?” she asked, more than a little curious. Panic flared in her breast. “Oh no. I didn’t even think. You don’t wear a ring, but are you married?” God. What if he was married? She’d just caused him a world of hurt on national television.

  “No.”

  She should be embarrassed by the relief that flowed through her. “Girlfriend?” She held her breath.

  He cut her a look. “Now you ask that?”

  Heat filled her face.

  He sighed. “No girlfriend. Apparently I now have a fiancée.”

  Warmth bloomed through her chest. What would it be like to actually date somebody like him? A man so tough and seemingly strong? “I said I was sorry,” she muttered.

  “If you were sorry, you’d let me get you somewhere safe so I could go to work.”

  She reached out and grabbed his arm, almost desperate to make him understand. “I don’t want to be the scared little girl hiding somewhere while you go after the bad guy. I’m the key to this guy’s obsession, like it or not.”

  “The key.” He shook his head. “Do you have copies of the letters?”

  “Yes. I made copies of the entire file.” She winced. “Don’t tell the FBI. At least come to my hotel and see what I’ve put together.” Oh man. Heath in her small hotel room. She bit her lip. The bed was right by the small desk area. The bed. Heath. A bed. What in the world was wrong with her? Sure, she’d known desire before, but he was just so much—so much muscle and strength and hard good looks. When had she become attracted to bad boys?

  Did he have ripped abs? She’d always wanted to see ripped abs.

  “Why are you blushing?”

  She coughed and released his arm. “Sorry. Just got overwhelmed for a moment.”

  His head lifted as if in understanding. “Ah. I’m sorry, sweetheart. You have to be feeling her loss.”

  Anya blinked. For a few minutes she’d actually forgotten. Her sister was dead. That quickly, raw emotion tore through her. “I’m okay.” She set her shoulders back against the seat. “In fact, I’m determined. We’re going to find that bastard, Heath, and we’re gonna make him pay.”

  “No.” He turned, his face implacable. “I failed to protect your sister, and this guy has killed nine women already. If you’re a halfway decent shrink, you already know that there’s no way in hell I’m allowing you to be bait. We’ll get the files, and then you’re going underground.”

  Her mouth gaped. Oh yeah? That’s what he thought.

  CHAPTER

  9

  The snowstorm increased in force, so Heath sped up the SUV’s windshield wipers. His phone buzzed in his pocket again; he ignored the insistent demand. Ryker would have to wait until later to yell at him about his suddenly very public involvement in the case.

  “All right, Anya. Here’s the deal.” Heath kept his voice low and commanding, hiding both his concern and anger. “We’ll get your stuff from your hotel and take it to the one I told Reese I was staying at. Guess I should check in. Then you can show me the letters.”

  “Why a different hotel?” she asked.

  God, she was naive. “Because you challenged a serial killer about an hour ago, so I’m thinkin’ we should get you somewhere safe.”

  “Hmm.” She rubbed her chin. “Good idea, but he knows your name now, too.”

  Heath shook his head. “I’ll register under a false name. We detectives use those, you know.” He said the last with wry humor.

  She turned to study him. “I’m thinking that’s only half the truth.”

  Man, she was quick. And by the drawing down of her brows, she didn’t like that about him. His phone buzzed again, and he ignored it again.

  “Damn it, Heath,” boomed suddenly from a speaker above the rearview mirror. “What the holy fuck of a holy fuck have you gotten yourself into?” Ryker yelled through the satellite system provided by the rental agency.

  Heath winced. “Hacked into the satellite, did you?”

  “Denver did. What the hell? Your name is all over the news with the press conference. Do you have any idea how quickly—”

  “I’m not alone,” Heath cut in before Ryker could reveal all their secrets.

  His brother fell silent for about two seconds. “Oh. Of course not. I take it your fiancée is with you?” The sarcasm cut through the suddenly thick silence in the vehicle.

  “Um, yes,” Anya said, her eyes narrowing at the speaker. “You are Heath’s brother, right? I’m really sorry to have dragged you and your agency into this. I just wasn’t thinking after I buried my sister.” Her voice trembled and sounded thick with tears.

  Anger roared through Heath. “Damn it, Ryker.”

  “Shit, Heath,” Ryker returned. He sighed loudly. “I’m sorry I swore, Anya. Heath? This ain’t a good idea.”

  No kidding. “I’m still figuring things out.”

  “What is there to figure out?” Ryker bellowed again. “Get her ass to the Montana safe house, and we’ll go find this killer.”

  Anya crossed her arms next to him.

  “That might be a problem,” Heath returned. Not one part of him wanted to force her somewhere else while she blamed herself for her sister’s death. The pain of that must be excruciating. Her sister had been murdered, and she deserved a chance to find the bastard who’d done it. While he wanted to get her to safety, hearing somebody else order it made him want to defend her. To help her. “Besides. Do you really think the Montana, ah, contingent will allow the target of a serial killer to stay there?”

  “They’re family. If we ask for help, they’ll cover her as nobody else could. The killer won’t have a clue she’s there.” Ryker sounded like he was losing what little patience he actually owned. “Heath, this is an easy answer.”

  Heath looked at Anya. Her chin was up, her eyes burning. “That’s what you think.” God, she was sexier than hell when facing him like a spitting cat. No way could they happen, though. She seemed like a forever type of girl who followed the rules, and he was an on-the-run type of guy who had no problem breaking them. The smartest thing for him would be to force her into safety.

  Yet what would that do to her?

  “I’m about to speak really frankly here,” Ryker warned.

  “Don’t,” Heath returned evenly. “I know exactly what you’re about to say.”

  Anya looked on, her gaze turning curious.

  “Do you, now?” Ryker asked, his voice going low.

  “Yep. Heard it a thousand times before. Trigger points. Bad past. Mistakes now.” Heath kept his words vague for Anya’s sake, but there was no doubt Ryker was about to lecture him on his penchant for saving every wounded animal or shattered woman. “I’ve heard it, I know it, and that’s not what this is about.”

  “Really? What is this about?” Ryker asked, his tone turning concerned. “Vengeance?”

  “No. Redemption.” Heath reached up and disengaged the satellite feed, turning toward Anya. “Maybe for the both of us.”

  She studied him, her eyes darkening. Finally, one corner of her mouth quirked. “You’re a beneath the surface kind of guy, aren’t you?”

  He couldn’t help but grin back. “I’m the deep one in the family.” Well, not necessarily true. Denver had untold depths—he just never talked. “Sorry my brother yelled at you.”

  “It’s okay. Are you all from Montana?”

  “No.” He searched for the right words. “We have relatives there, but we don’t know them well. The ranch is a safe place if you ever need safety.” No way could he go into deeper detail, even if the truth was believable, which it wouldn’t be.

  “You live in the gray area—no black or white?” she asked softly, an odd sadness curving her bottom lip.

  He drove into the hotel parking lot, wanting to soothe her but not sure how. While he couldn’t tell her everything, he could be honest with what he said. “I think that’s safe to say. Why? You don’t?”
/>
  “No,” she said. “My dad was a cop, a good one, and I’ve always walked the line.”

  “Yeah, I figured that about you already.” He quickly rolled the SUV to a snowy stop. “Not all cops are good.” He knew that firsthand, unfortunately.

  “Most are,” she countered.

  Whoa. Talk about different lives and realities. Maybe it was fine that she believed right always won. He fucking knew better.

  Enough with philosophy—they had a killer to catch.

  Heath studied the bright pink doors against the solid white building. “Which room?”

  “One-oh-three.”

  He jumped out and scouted the nearly empty parking lot. The hotel was small but quaint looking. Raised voices from one room caught his attention. A man and woman fighting about somebody named Bonnie. “There’s an argument going on in room one-twelve. If it escalates, somebody might call the cops. Let’s hurry.”

  She paused and looked toward the room. “I don’t hear anything.”

  My senses are a little above average.” At her raised eyebrow, he smiled. “Okay, a lot beyond average.” It felt right to share a truth with her. But a sense of urgency took him by the throat. “We have five minutes. Let’s move.”

  She gave him a look but hopped from the SUV and led the way to her room. He allowed her to unlock the door and then set her aside to enter first, quickly scanning the entire area. “Clear.”

  Her snort showed she wasn’t taking the danger quite seriously yet.

  He stepped inside and walked immediately to her notes and pictures spread all over the small table. His whistle filled the silence. “Where in the world did you get all of this data?” He turned to see her blushing a very pretty pink. Fascinated, he could just stare.

  She shuffled her snow-covered boots. “I, ah, may have copied Loretta’s file right after she was taken and before Reese confiscated everything.”

  Smart. Illegal, but smart. Talk about untold depths. “So much for right and wrong.”

  Her lips firmed. “Catching this asshole is the right thing to do.”

  He studied the woman. She’d set herself up for a serial killer to avenge her sister. While reckless, that was strong. That realization had the unfortunate effect of stirring his cock to life. Down, boy. “I’m fairly certain stealing FBI files is a felony, darlin’.”

  She twisted her mouth and studied the wall. “Probably, though I didn’t actually steal anything. Just made copies. Since I’m working as a consultant on the case, it’s okay.”

  Probably true. “Start packing.” His phone buzzed and he lifted it to his ear. “No lecture.”

  “Just turn on the television,” Ryker said.

  Heath moved for the battered set and twisted a knob to ignite the TV. It sizzled and then a picture formed of Anya talking to the reporters. He turned the channel. Same scene. “Damn it,” he murmured. The killer would certainly see it. Even on the crappy screen, Anya’s determination and dare came through bright and clear. “You’re on every channel.”

  She stepped up next to him, her hands full of pictures and notes. “That was my plan.” Her voice shook, and her skin paled.

  Her pallor concerned him. “That was very brave, darlin’.” He could give her kudos before he argued with her.

  “I’m not brave.” Her sigh held pain and sadness. “I’m scared to death of this guy and definitely don’t want to end up alone in a room with him.”

  That was the very definition of bravery. “You won’t.”

  “Hey,” Ryker snapped from the phone.

  Oh yeah. Heath had forgotten his brother was even there. “Sorry. I saw the live version, Ry.”

  “I know, but now we’re in a shit-storm. She gave your name and the name of the agency. We’ve been exposed.”

  Heath took a deep breath and let his mind clear. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry—just be safe.” Ryker sighed. “Do you really want to open an agency in Snowville?”

  “Yes.” The plan was already in place. “Listen, Ryker. I know we have to lie low, so how about you and Denver just stay in the cabins? I’ll handle the Snowville office on my own until we catch this killer.” Heath ignored the intense curiosity filtering across Anya’s pretty face.

  “Not a chance, brother. If you’re in the line of fire, we’re right beside you,” Ryker said, his voice low.

  Heath’s chest warmed. “You have too much to lose, and you know it.” His brother had recently fallen in love and needed to keep his woman safe. “Let me do this.”

  “Nope. We’re all in. That’s the whole point of family, and you know it. I guess we’re moving to Snowville.” Ryker rustling papers came across the line. “Denver is giving me his best This is fucking crazy expression, just so you know.”

  “So long as Denver doesn’t say the words, he’s not really concerned,” Heath countered. “Our entire purpose for opening that physical office in Cisco was to draw the killer out. Setting up an office in Snowville is just a continuation of our own plan.”

  “I agree, but we don’t need Jackson’s wounded sister as bait,” Ryker said.

  Heath winced. “She’s no more wounded than the rest of us.”

  Anya paled but didn’t speak and then started gathering her notes into a big file folder.

  “Fine. But are you seriously thinking of putting that untrained woman into the line of fire?” More curiosity than censure filled Ryker’s voice.

  “No,” Heath said shortly. “I don’t want her anywhere near danger. We’ll meet in Snowville and come up with a plan that finds this guy without really putting her in front of a killer.” He wasn’t quite sure what the plan would be, and he was positive Anya would argue, but there had to be a decent way to make this work and let her take part. “Loretta was her sister, and she deserves to be involved.”

  The gratitude that shot into her stunning eyes shouldn’t warm him so intensely. He’d have to watch his emotions around this woman. Without question.

  “Are you sure you’ve got this?” Ryker asked quietly.

  Damn mind reader. “I’m fine, Ry. Stop worrying and get back to your own life. Gone ring shopping yet?” Heath couldn’t help but grin. His brother had recently fallen hard for an amazing woman named Zara, and he was sweating bullets trying to find the right ring for her.

  “Yes, but I haven’t found the one. I mean, I proposed already. Kind of.”

  “It doesn’t count until you ask with a ring in your hand,” Heath said, biting back a laugh. Like he knew one thing about proposals.

  “That’s what Denver said.”

  Denver didn’t know shit about them either, but this was fun. “Yep. You need a ring and the whole down-on-one-knee moment,” Heath said.

  “Fine, but she already said yes, so I’m holding her to it. There has to be the perfect ring out there, right?” Ryker asked in a low growl.

  “Hell if I know.” He’d never even considered buying an engagement ring for a woman. At the thought, he frowned at Anya.

  Ryker chuckled. “I guess we can go shopping together now.”

  “Funny,” Heath said, not finding the idea totally unpleasant. Whoa. He was not getting engaged for real. Probably ever. “I think the hit to the head last week is still giving me issues.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Ryker hung up before he could answer.

  “Good plan,” Heath muttered, sliding the phone into his back pocket. “Got everything?” He glanced around to see her bag already packed and the bed made. The little redhead was a neat freak. He liked that.

  The bed was small for a hotel room. Yet she’d look stunning draped across it. He cleared his throat.

  “Yes.” She finished shoving all the paperwork into a worn blue laptop bag. “Why do you and your brothers need to lie low?” She straightened, her gaze serious. “Does it have something to do with the fake marshals who shot at us?”

  “Yes.” He met her gaze in a silent battle of wills.

  She gave in first. “Well? Who
are they?”

  He rubbed the whiskers on his jaw. “Listen, Anya. I’m willing to help you catch Loretta’s killer because I liked her. In addition, I like you. But my life is my own.”

  Her eyes darkened to the color of a pine forest. “None of my business?”

  “Exactly.” His secrets were shared by his brothers, and he’d never betray them. But he wanted to level with her. There was a tension between them, one he could almost taste.

  She looked around and then back at him. Awareness lived in her gaze. She felt him on a similar level—he could see it. “Like you said before, you’re not exactly a good guy.”

  “Nope.” As soon as she truly realized that fact, they’d be on much better ground.

  She looked at the bed and then blushed. “There’s a lot of emotion going on right now.”

  Yeah, there was. It was all jumbled up, and part of it was sexual attraction. He’d felt it for her the moment he’d laid eyes on her. From her pink cheeks, she felt it too. “I know,” he said softly.

  She gave a slight shudder, which moved her pert breasts. “This is confusing.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” He didn’t like games or subtext. It was time to lay it all out there for her to make a decision about the ridiculous attraction between them. It was getting too difficult to concentrate around her, and they both needed to let off some steam. “While I might not give you the full story, I’ll never lie to you. So here it is. I want you.”

  Her eyebrows rose toward her hairline. Her breath quickened.

  “And I think you want me.”

  Now her chin lowered. She drew in air and slowly let it out. Her nipples hardened until he could see them beneath her shirt. Clearly.

  “I thought we should get that truth out of the way and decide what to do about it. If you want something physical, I’m definitely in. If not, we’re still going to do this job. I can give you my time and expertise and anything else you want as we do this job. But then I’m gone.” Would she want to do more than just work together? Maybe have some fun if possible? Relieve some of the pressure and escape reality for a short time?