Witness Seduction

  10

  STARING AT THE BANK STATEMENT, Marley rubbed her forehead for a moment, just in case the hours of sex she’d engaged in last night had exhausted her more than she’d thought. But when she looked down at the paper again, the transaction record remained the same.

  Marley could barely breathe. Why had money been deposited? The cops had led her to believe the account would be frozen. Was it just a bank error, or was the tremor of fear skittering up her spine justified? Oh, God. Was Patrick moving drug money through the account?

  She pushed her chair back with a loud scrape against the tiles. Still clutching the statement, she picked up the cordless phone from the kitchen counter and punched in the number of the bank with unsteady fingers.

  At the automatic prompt, she keyed in the account number and her PIN, and waited, reminding herself to exhale. An operator came on the line surprisingly quickly, sparing her the awful tinny music every company and institution seemed to use for its hold function.

  “This is Jennifer, how can I help you?” came a bubbly voice.

  “Hi, Jennifer.” Marley took a breath. “I’m just glancing over my recent bank statement and I noticed some inconsistencies.”

  “I can definitely look into that. I need to ask you a few security questions first.”

  Marley stifled a grumble as she went through the security process, offering her birth date, address and verifying the account information.

  “So what seems to be the problem?” Jennifer asked after the CIA interrogation ended.

  Marley’s jaw tightened. “I’m seeing a deposit here, but I was under the impression the account was frozen.”

  “Hmm. Let me check your file. Can you hold?” Without waiting for a reply, Jennifer sent Marley into the land of elevator music.

  She released the groan she’d been suppressing, wanting to kick something. What was going on? She’d dealt with banking errors before—usually a potential fraud issue where they canceled her ATM card, or an interest reversal—but a one-hundred-thousand dollar deposit in an account that was supposed to be inactive? This was one monster of an error.

  Jennifer popped back on the line. “Ms. Kincaid?”

  “I’m here.”

  “All right, so I noticed on your file that you opened the account with a…Mr. Patrick Neil Grier, is that correct?”

  Marley gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

  “Well, the account is still active.”

  “I can see that.” She sighed. “I’m just wondering why. What about the recent activity I’m seeing on this statement? Can you tell me where the deposit came from?”

  “Sure thing. I need to ask you a few more security questions first.”

  Oh, for the love of God.

  Jennifer rattled off another series of questions, just short of asking Marley for the name of the boy she’d lost her virginity to. And then chirped, “Let’s take a look-see, shall we?”

  Marley was beginning to seriously despise Jennifer.

  “All right, I’m seeing a one-hundred-thousand-dollar wire transfer from a European cash office. Other than that, it’s anonymous.”

  A rush of fury flooded her belly, causing her to tighten her fingers around the phone. Patrick was responsible for this. She knew it. He just couldn’t stop messing around with her life, could he? He’d lied to her, disappeared on her and now he was throwing suspicion right back on her by moving money into an account that had her name on it. Hernandez would only see this as another sign of her guilt.

  She wished Patrick were here, standing right in front of her, so she could strangle him with her bare hands.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Kincaid?” Jennifer chirped.

  “No, you’ve done quite enough,” Marley muttered. “Thanks.”

  She disconnected the call and resisted the urge to whip the phone across the kitchen. Okay. She had to calm down. And she had to call the police again. They’d obviously misled her by saying the account was inactive, and were probably sitting around at the station, taking bets on whether she would call it in when she discovered the deposit.

  Hernandez would no doubt bet against her.

  Good thing she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

  “YOU SLEPT WITH HER. You damn idiot.”

  AJ’s harsh voice was not one Caleb wanted greeting him so early in the morning, but at least Marley wasn’t in the room to hear the angry words hissing out of the phone. He slid up in bed and leaned against the headboard, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The bathroom door was open, the light off, so he knew Marley must be downstairs, probably making breakfast.

  Caleb opted for the avoidance route. “You’re okay there by yourself, right? Getting enough sleep?”

  His partner sounded incredulous. “Yes, Agent Ford, I’m sleeping just fine. I’m getting in twenty-minute cat-naps, and watching the monitors, one of which started shrieking last night when a stray dog walked past the porch motion sensor. I’m also eating my veggies and saying my prayers and all that fun stuff.” AJ let out a loud curse. “Now how about we talk about you again. You know, about the fact that you slept with her.”

  Caleb drew in a breath. “I got caught up in…in the moment.”

  “Caught up in the moment?” Disbelief dripped from AJ’s voice. “Look, I know you’re having a ton of fun spending time with Nurse Hottie, but don’t you ever forget why we’re here, Caleb. This stakeout is about catching Grier, it’s about Russ, not your goddamn libido.”

  Caleb closed his eyes. “I know.”

  There was a long silence on the other end.

  “What?” Caleb asked. “Say whatever you’re thinking.”

  “You don’t want to hear it.”

  “Say it, AJ.”

  “Fine.” His partner released a heavy breath. “I don’t think you got caught up in the moment, man. I think you got caught up in her.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’ve fallen in love with her, you moron.”

  The phone shook in his hand. Love? That was ridiculous.

  Panic clutched at his chest like icy-cold fingers. No, he couldn’t have fallen for her. So what if he liked being with her and making her laugh and seeing her bright smile when he woke up in the morning? So what if she made his body burn and amazed him with her constant optimism? So what?

  It didn’t mean he loved her, did it?

  “You still there?”

  AJ’s tone was oddly gentle. It made Caleb’s jaw tense. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You don’t have a response to what I just said?”

  He swallowed. “I have to tell her the truth, AJ.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” he asked, running the fingers of one hand through his hair in frustration.

  “Because if she is helping Grier, you’ll tip her off, and then she’ll tip him off.”

  “She’s not helping Grier,” he said through clenched teeth. “I know her, AJ. Like you said, I’ve been spending time with her, and I know in my gut she’s not capable of that.”

  “Your gut isn’t going to bring Russ back,” AJ said.

  “Nothing will bring Russ back.” Caleb’s chest squeezed with pain. “Russ is gone, and Grier is the one responsible for that. Not Marley.”

  AJ uttered another low expletive, but Caleb cut him off before he could object. “I can’t lie to her anymore. I can’t do it.” A lump of grief lodged in his throat. “She trusts me. She likes me. And I feel like a total ass every time I look at her. I can’t do this to her anymore.”

  Resignation lined AJ’s tone. “And you still insist you’re not in love with her, huh?” He paused. “Do what you want, Ford, I’m not going to stop you. But think real hard before ruining your cover. You don’t want this blowing up in your face.”

  AJ hung up, and Caleb was left staring down at the phone. He wouldn’t take his partner’s advice, though. He had thought long and hard about it, and he knew in his heart th
at he couldn’t lie about who he was any longer. He had to come clean, not just for Marley’s sake, but for his own.

  Getting out of bed, he slipped into his jeans and then searched for his T-shirt. He found it balled up on the floor and, with a sigh, pulled the wrinkled material over his head. After he used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, he headed downstairs. He found Marley sitting in the kitchen, staring at the half-painted wall. She still wore her pajamas, which consisted of tiny boxer shorts and a loose tank top, and she looked cute and fresh-faced as she sat there.

  “No pancakes?” he teased.

  At his question, her head popped up. She seemed confused for a moment, then she gave a dull shake of her head.

  An alarm buzzed in his gut. With purposeful strides, he rounded the table, sank into the chair directly beside hers and cupped her delicate chin with his hands. “What happened?”

  Without a word, she picked up a folded piece of paper from the tabletop and handed it to him, looking tormented.

  The bank logo immediately caught his eye. He scanned the details, realizing he was looking at the statement for the joint account she’d opened with Grier.

  He pretended it was news to him. “What’s this?”

  “This,” she said in a stiff voice, “is the account I opened with Patrick, which the cops told me was frozen.” She snatched the paper from his hand and held it up as if it were laced with anthrax. “The account is still active, and he’s putting money in it! Drug money, most likely. God, why can’t the police just catch him already?”

  Caleb rested his forehead in the palm of his hand.

  “Why won’t he stop haunting me?” Tears coated her dark lashes and her breath came in short gasps. “I’m so stupid. How did I fall for all his lies? I thought he was a good person.”

  A weight settled in Caleb’s rib cage, causing his heart to constrict painfully. “He lied to you.”

  “Yeah, and I believed him. I was so wrong about him,” she said, twisting her hands together. Then she swiped at her wet eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”

  He swallowed. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Hernandez isn’t going to agree.” She stared at him in dismay. “He’s going to think I helped Patrick put the money in the account.”

  “You’re going to call Hernandez?”

  She looked surprised. “I have to. Obviously they lied and didn’t freeze the account like they said they would. Or maybe it was the bank’s mistake. Either way, I have to tell them. I’m going to do it in person, so hopefully Hernandez will see I really didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “And if he doesn’t believe you?”

  “Then he doesn’t believe me,” she repeated in a flat voice. “I still have to let them know.”

  They already know.

  Caleb drew a gulpful of air into his burning lungs. This was it. The time to tell her the truth. He opened his mouth, ready to do it, to bite the bullet and tell her he was a federal agent, but suddenly she placed her hand on his arm and said, “Will you come with me to the police station?”

  He faltered. “You want me there?”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t want to face him alone. Will you come?”

  In a hoarse voice, he said, “Of course I will. But first I need to tell you—”

  She cut him off with a desperate “Thank you” as she stumbled to her feet. “Let me just take a quick shower and then we can go.”

  Frustration rose inside of him. “Marley, wait—”

  “You should go next door and change while I’m upstairs,” she interrupted, a faint smile on her lips as she studied his wrinkled shirt.

  “I will, but first—”

  “I’ll meet you out front in fifteen minutes.” And then she bounded out of the kitchen.

  Caleb stared at the empty doorway, listening to the sound of her footsteps thudding up the stairs. Damn it, why hadn’t she let him finish? He needed to tell her everything before they went to the police station—if she even desired his company after the truth came out.

  With a sigh, he stood up, realizing the truth would yet again have to wait. Until Marley came out of the shower, anyway. The sigh became a discouraged groan, which he tamped down as he headed toward the front entrance.

  Might as well go next door and change his damn shirt. At least then he wouldn’t look like a slob while he faced her wrath.

  MARLEY HAD JUST PEELED OFF her pajamas when a disconcerting flash of clarity sliced through her. What had she been thinking, asking Caleb to accompany her to the police station? She’d only been thinking about herself, she realized as she sagged against the bathroom wall.

  She suddenly felt like kicking herself. God, talk about overdependent. As much as she’d appreciate having Caleb’s support while she faced Hernandez, she knew she couldn’t ask that of him. He’d already been present for the last confrontation with the detective, and they hadn’t even known each other that well then. She didn’t want to keep dragging him into this mess. It wasn’t fair to Caleb. Patrick had been her mistake. And she was the only one who could fix it.

  Anyway, she didn’t want him to view her as some damsel in distress that he constantly needed to rescue. They’d just started seeing each other, for Pete’s sake.

  Drawing in a long breath, she left the bathroom and quickly got dressed. She would go next door and tell Caleb she needed to do this alone. He didn’t deserve to spend his morning in a police station.

  She hurried downstairs, slipped into her sneakers and flew out the front door, approaching the Strathorn house with determined strides.

  On the porch, she opened the front door without bothering to ring the doorbell. She already knew Caleb was home, and considering he’d been staying at her house for the past two days, she hardly thought he’d mind if she let herself in.

  “Caleb?” she called as she walked into the house.

  His voice drifted down from upstairs. “I’ll be down in a second.”

  He sounded strained, panicked even, but it wasn’t his tone that made her freeze. When he’d spoken, she’d heard a clatter, as if he’d dropped something—but the expletive that had followed wasn’t uttered by Caleb. The voice had been deeper, raspier.

  An alarm bell went off in her head. As her palms grew damp, she approached the staircase and peered up. The second-floor hallway seemed to be empty. Did he have someone up there?

  With wariness wrapping around her spine like strands of ivy, she climbed the stairs, reaching the second-floor landing just as Caleb popped out of the bedroom at the very end of the hall.

  “Hey,” he said, looking frazzled. “I was just getting dressed and—”

  “Who’s in there?” she cut in, narrowing her eyes.

  He hesitated, only for a second, but it was hesitation just the same. “What? There’s nobody here. I was—”

  Marley brushed past him, unable to let go of the misgiving pulsing in her bloodstream. “I heard someone, Caleb.”

  She headed for the doorway he’d just exited, knowing she was probably being ridiculous but completely helpless to stop the sudden onslaught of suspicion. This was a total invasion of privacy. Maybe she hadn’t heard another voice at all. Maybe she was—

  She froze as she entered the bedroom.

  Her hands dropped to her sides, her entire body growing colder than a glacial ice cap. All the oxygen rushed from her lungs, leaving her breathless.

  The room was empty, but that wasn’t what shocked her to the core. Oh no, it was the computer monitors sitting on the long desk pushed up under the window. At least half a dozen of them. A couple had switched into screen-saver mode, but the rest… She stumbled forward. Oh, God. The rest displayed very clear images of her house.

  Her front porch. Her backyard. Her kitchen. Her bedroom window.

  Oh, God.

  Bile rose in her throat. Caleb had been watching her.

  But why? Why the hell would he— She stiffened a
gain when her gaze landed on the photograph taped to one of the monitors.

  Her pulse shrieked in her ears as she moved closer. As she looked at the photo and saw Patrick Grier’s face peering back at her.

  She stared at the picture for a very long time, fighting back wave after wave of nausea.

  A noise came from behind, causing her to spin around and face Caleb.

  Their gazes collided, and she stood there, watching all the color seep out of his face. Watching as a thick cloud of guilt settled over his blue eyes.

  “Marley,” he choked out.

  Her fingers curled into two tight fists. “You son of a bitch.”

  11

  MARLEY SWAYED AS ice slithered through her veins. Rage was the only thing that kept her feet rooted to the floor while her heart slapped against her ribcage, urging her to run.

  Never breaking eye contact with Caleb, she forced her vocal cords to work. “Who are you?”

  “I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’ve been monitoring your house in case Patrick shows up.”

  “Patrick,” she echoed.

  “Yes. We suspected he might come to San Diego, so—”

  “We?” she interrupted, anger continuing to claw its way up her spine. “Who’s we?”

  “The DEA… I’m a federal agent.”

  “A federal agent,” she said, feeling her stomach roil.

  “Yes.”

  Marley wished she could crawl into a hole and disappear. Her heart felt as though it was full of little razor blades. Each time it beat, a shudder of pain shot through her body. And each time she took a breath, her lungs burned.

  How could he do this to her? She’d trusted him, and all the while he’d been lying to her.

  Caleb squared his shoulders, sucking in a breath and releasing it.

  “How long have you been here, watching me?” she demanded.

  He held his ground as he looked straight into her eyes. “Two weeks.”

  Marley staggered backward. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Two weeks! He’d been spying on her for the past two weeks, one of which he’d spent conning his way into her life. Into her bed.