A Just Deception (13 page)

She snorted a laugh. “Good to know I don’t have to worry about you hitting on me.”

His eyes met hers. “At least not until this case is over.”

Her mind immediately went to Peter in his beat up clothes and do-rag. Putting him next to Wade Sampson’s tailored suits and model perfect looks would be quite a comparison.

Peter though, had more understanding and patience than any man she’d known. Were they a couple? She didn’t know, but she didn’t want to jeopardize the tenuous early stages of what might be something special.

A
relationship
.

Her chest felt as if someone had parked a bus on it. Special relationships were few and far apart for her. She generally couldn’t give enough of herself to make it work and the men eventually walked away. She never blamed them. Sometimes she wanted to walk away from herself.

“You should know I’m involved with someone,” she said.

He nodded. “Peter Jessup. The guy at the cemetery the other day. We checked him out.”

She rested her elbow on the back of the bench and fiddled with her nails. “He’s a good man. He saved my butt with Kendrick a couple of times.”

Sampson nodded. “He’s also an ex-Navy SEAL with two Silver Stars who does contract work for the government.”

Silver Stars? The man had a gift for shocking her. A tickle of pride blossomed inside her.

“With his background,” Sampson said, “this guy is my worst nightmare. As long as he stays out of my case, I don’t have a problem with him.”

Good luck with that.

Isabelle shook off a laugh. Peter didn’t have it in him to mind his own business. “How is this going to work? Do I just walk up to the compound and knock?”

“That’s exactly what you do. Seth Donner probably knows Edmonds invited you. If not, you simply tell him that’s why you’re there. That you wanted to see the place. He may turn you away. My hope is that he’ll take one look at you and invite you in. Once there, help out, get friendly with the residents. Find someone you connect with and work the relationship.”

“And if I get in? What then? Do I have to stay if I’m not comfortable?”

“No. This is completely voluntary. You can walk away whenever you choose. It could be dangerous.”

What he didn’t bother to add, and they both understood, was her place on the murder suspect list still existed. Even if her alibi checked out, she could be in line for a conspiracy charge.

A bird landed on an overhead branch causing Isabelle to jump. She glared at it. Dumb bird. She turned back to Sampson. “I won’t wear a wire. Not at first.”

“That’s a problem,” he said.

Peter had warned her Sampson would push back. Heck, she wouldn’t have thought of it had Peter not brought it up. He’d convinced her it would be better for her to gain the trust of the members before wearing any kind of recording devices. What if they searched her and found the wire?

“It’s my only condition. If you want me, it’s without a wire.”

Sampson did a yes-no thing with his head. “Let me float it.”

“Knock yourself out.”

For some reason, he laughed. “What else?”

“How should I contact you?”

“Call me from a secure phone outside the compound. I’ll be working out of the Cincinnati office. Generally, I don’t give my sources a lot of information. If you appear to know too much, the group members will get suspicious.”

That sounded reasonable. She’d rather be in the dark anyway. She didn’t want to have to filter information. All she wanted to be was the messenger.

The alarm on her phone beeped and she reached to silence it. “I need to get back. I’ll call you in a day or two.”

She rose from the bench and Sampson followed, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“We’re going to be working together, so you might as well call me Wade. And thank you.”

Staring down at his hand, she took it, and the soft skin reminded her of Peter and his calloused fingers. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”

“Yeah, but something tells me you will.”

“Are you shitting me?” Vic asked.

Peter stood in the middle of his mother’s picture-perfect lawn talking to Vic on his cell. He didn’t have time for this crap. All he wanted were his guns and some information. Bad enough he was too paranoid to make this phone call from inside his car or the house. What if the cops bugged it?

“Yeah. I’m
shitting
you. I have nothing better to do than call and mess with your head. Why would I make this up?”

“I talked to you two days ago and suddenly Isabelle is going undercover for the feds? What the
fuck
?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Once again. I’ll try to speak slowly so you can understand.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Vic hollered.

Peter laughed because, although it wasn’t funny, it was still funny. “The feds showed up yesterday. She talked it over with me last night. I did my best to stay neutral, but I did try to sway her not to do it.”

Rustling leaves drew his attention and he swung his head right, his eyes shifting to locate the disturbance. A squirrel darted around the base of the hundred-year-old oak tree. A squirrel. Peter unclenched his ass and rolled his eyes. Yes, his nerves were so fried that if he’d had a gun, the terrorist squirrel would be toast.

Get a grip
.

“They got to her on the abused kids, right?” Vic asked.

“Yes. When I showed up to surf this morning she told me she wanted to do it. She met with the agent in charge this afternoon and we’re off.”

“Un-fucking-believable. Who’s the agent? I’ll call Lynx and check him out.”

Pay dirt. Lynx, a former army buddy of Vic’s, worked for the State Department.

“Wade Sampson is his name. He’s based out of the Newark office. He seems like a straight up guy, but who knows.”

“Got it. What else?”

Peter shook off the drumming in his head. He would
not
go there. Even if every instinct pushed him that way.

“You still there?” Vic asked.

“Yeah. Ask Lynx if this guy has a history of getting personally involved with his sources.”

So much for not going there. He had to though. For Izzy’s sake.

Right. For his own damn sake because he wanted to be sure Mr. Slick wouldn’t steal his girl.

“He moved on her already?” Vic sounded incredulous. “Even I never worked that fast.”

Peter pulled the phone down, banged his knuckle on it, and brought it back to his ear. “Hey! Can we focus here?”

“Sorry,” Vic said. Peter heard a tapping noise. Probably Vic smacking his pen against the desk. He did that when his brain got active. “What’s the plan? She’s going to Ohio?”

Peter tilted his head back, closed his eyes and let the late afternoon sun warm his skin. A perfect beach day. “Yep. I’m going with her.”

“No.”

His muscles spasmed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re on vacation. A
mandatory
one. She has to go in there alone anyway. The feds will lock you up before they let you anywhere near this case.”

Peter ground his teeth together at the reminder of his mandatory R&R. “Are you stoned? She can’t go there alone. Even if I won’t be able to go in with her, I can be around. The feds can’t keep me from being in the area. I’ll get a hotel room and lay low. At least she’ll have someone close if she gets into trouble.”

More tapping from the other end.

“I’ll send someone else,” Vic said. “You stay put.”

Someone else? Negatory.

Peter shook his head so hard he got woozy. “She trusts
me
. She doesn’t need someone else. Someone she doesn’t know. It’ll just add to her stress. I’m fine. Unless you count wanting to kill my mother last night, but I get a pass on that because it wasn’t my fault.”

“You’re mother is a sweetheart. Leave her alone.”

“Remember that when she uses a key to walk into your house and finds you with your shorts tent-poled.”

Vic didn’t just laugh. He howled. And Peter gave up the fight and joined in. Last night it was horrible, but today it was funny.

“Besides,” he added. “I’ll be better off with Izzy than sitting here wondering if she’s all right. That would really make me nuts.”

Let’s see him try and argue that one.

“I don’t know,” Vic said.

Dammit.

More tapping. “Okay, but I’m sending someone with you.”

A babysitter.
Shit.
Vic didn’t trust him. Peter hated to admit how much that bothered him, but if he needed to prove himself again, the best way to do that would be to have someone there to witness it.

“Fine.”

“I’ll send Billy.”

Son of a bitch.
From bad to worse. Peter fisted his free hand until the knuckles burned. Billy. The guy he beat the shit out of, thereby landing his ass on R&R.

“I’m beginning to think you
want
me to go insane,” Peter said. “Send someone else.”

“No. I like this idea. You two will settle this bullshit and I won’t have to check my blood pressure every time I send you on an op together. It’s either Billy or I haul your ass back here and give you paperwork to do so I can keep an eye on you.”

Blood gushed in Peter’s veins and he slammed his eyes shut, dug his fingers into them. He should quit. Tell Vic to stick the job. Go to work somewhere else. With his skills, anybody would take him.

Taylor Security got the government’s cherry assignments though. The oddball stuff that kept things interesting. Plus, he liked it there. A lot.

At least until recently.

“Billy it is then,” Peter said.

“Good. And if one of you assholes kills the other, so be it. At least I won’t have to put up with you girls fighting.”

“I want my guns back. Even the throwaway you robbed from my safe.”

Vic sighed. “I didn’t
rob
it. Confiscated maybe.”

“I want them back. Send them to Ohio with Billy. If you don’t, I’ll buy new ones. I’d prefer to have my own though.”

Vic would understand that. Gina often joked the other woman in Vic’s life was named Sig because he practically slept with his .45.

“Okay. I’ll send Billy to Ohio on the jet, and we’ll load him up with some toys.”

Peter gazed down at the grass, digging his bare toes into the thick green blades. “Thank you. You may think I’m nuts, but this is a good call. You know I’ll take care of Izzy.”

“It’s the only reason I’m letting this happen. If I thought for one second you’d be a hazard to her, I’d shoot you myself. When this is over though, you
will
take that vacation and you
will
deal with your issues over Tiny.”

Tiny.

Another one chiming in on his dead friend. What was with these people playing Freud? Why did everyone think his problems were about Tiny?

Maybe because he was kicking over potted bushes?

“Izzy told you?”

“What?”

Oooh, shit.
He shouldn’t have said anything. Besides, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Vic had experienced his own meltdown about Tiny and Peter helped
him
with it.

“Izzy thinks I have an avoidance problem about Tiny getting killed.”

“I think Isabelle is a genius.” Vic stopped, letting out a heavy breath. “Buddy, I know it sucks. It doesn’t go away, but as soon as you give up fighting, it’ll get better. I’ve been there myself. Gina dragged my ass through it, and I bitched and moaned because all she wanted was for me to fucking talk. Talk, talk, talk. I mean, kill me now.”

Peter grunted because he’d had a ringside seat to those battles. Back then, they were just a couple of pissed off guys. Now though, it almost made sense. Gina wanted Vic to recognize the grief and not shut down. She forced him to face the pain.

And if he hadn’t, he probably would have gone nuts on his friends.

The front door of the main house opened and his mother stepped out, waving to him. She must have stayed home today because she wore a pair of walking shorts and a collared shirt. Her casual look.

“I gotta go,” Peter said. “I hear what you’re saying. I’m working on it.”

“Just take care of Isabelle. I’ll get you whatever you need. Later.”

Vic hung up and Peter stood staring at the phone in his hand.

“Yeah, including Billy.”

Thirty miles outside of Creekwood—aka, the home of the now very dead Kendrick Edmonds—Peter pulled Izzy’s Audi into the airstrip parking lot.

They had crossed the Ohio border over three hours ago, and Peter was damned sick of being in a car.

On the bright side, Izzy sat next to him wearing cotton shorts and a tank top that showed enough cleavage to make him a happy guy. The midafternoon sun shined bright in a baby blue sky that stretched over miles of open land and pastures. Nothing but lush green plants and an occasional lonely tree.

Yep, Monk and Izzy, just a carefree couple out for a Saturday drive.

At least until they found Billy, the guy who sent Peter into a life-altering, homicidal rage a few weeks back.

Good times all around.

Fuck.

“There it is,” he said, gesturing to the gleaming white Gulfstream parked in front of a hangar.

Billy was probably waiting inside. The sudden pain in Peter’s jaw seemed to indicate he needed to lighten up on the teeth grinding.

This would be no picnic, but if he didn’t square things, Vic wouldn’t let him back to work. Peter opened the driver’s side door. Might as well get it over with.

“Get the food, Iz. I’ll get the drinks. Let’s see if Billy is on the plane.”

Izzy grabbed the two bags of food sitting at her feet courtesy of Bob’s Burger Heaven. Considering they’d skipped lunch, Bob’s burgers, no matter how they tasted, would indeed be heaven.

They marched into the small office, nodded to the person behind the desk and headed straight for the tarmac. A guy had to love private airports. No security hassles.

As they approached the plane, the side door opened, the stairs descended and Billy stepped out in baggy hood-rat jeans and a black T-shirt. His shoulder-length brown hair bounced as he jogged toward them, and Peter questioned—for the millionth time—the man’s need for long hair.

Billy didn’t look any worse for wear considering the last time they’d seen each other Peter left him rolling on the floor coughing up blood. He cracked his neck. Billy, pain in the ass that he was, didn’t deserve that vicious beating.

Said pain in the ass stopped a foot in front of Peter—but turned his attention to Izzy. “A beautiful woman carrying food.” Billy dropped to his knees. “Marry me?”

When Izzy laughed, Peter rolled his eyes so far up they should have shot out the top of his head.

“Isabelle, meet Billy.”

“Hi, Billy,” she said, grinning at him in that way women did when instantly smitten.

Sickening. He needed to break this shit up quick. Peter shoved the tray of drinks at Billy, who was still on his knees. “Hold this.”

When he obliged, Peter took the two bags of food from Izzy. “Now I’m holding the food. Still want to get married, you jackass?”

Billy rose from the ground, his eyes narrowed. “Not on your life.”

Peter grunted. “Has that last beating faded from your memory?”

“You got lucky that time. You had rage on your side.”

“Guys,” Izzy said, but Peter kept his focus on Billy.

“Keep talking and I’ll have rage on my side again.”

“Hey!” Izzy said. “I thought you were friends.”

They both turned to her, but Billy’s what’s-her-problem look won the prize. “Of course we’re friends,” he said. “We’re just pissed at each other.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Women.

Billy shifted back to Peter. “Vic says we should kiss and make up.”

“Do we care what Vic says?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll kiss and make up when we’re ready.”

That must have been okay because Billy shrugged. Not that Peter didn’t want to square things. By now, they should probably get over it and move on, but Peter didn’t want to talk about Roy. And making up with Billy meant doing just that.

Izzy flapped her hands between them. “How can you stand this tension?”

Peter laughed. “What tension?”

“Ugh!”

“Get used to it, babe. This is life with Billy. He’s a royal pain in my ass.”

Billy ignored him. “What’d you get me to eat?”

“Bacon, double cheese, ketchup and mayo. No onions, lettuce or tomato.”

Billy shot him a sideways glance. “Just the way I like it. Maybe I’ll marry you after all.”

“Listen, Billy, quit flirting with my man or I’ll hurt you.”

The sound of Izzy’s words stopped Peter, but she and Billy kept walking. He knew he was smiling. Couldn’t help it. Izzy had just staked her claim on him and he kinda liked it. Loved it, actually.

Billy clamped a friendly hand around the back of her neck and squeezed. “I heard. You know, I love a woman who can fight.”

“Ha!” Peter hauled ass to catch up and nudged her with his elbow. “Maybe he should spar with you first. See how he feels then.”

She nudged him back. “You boys. You are too good to me.”

Heh-heh. She had no idea how good he wanted to be to her.

First though, they had a missing girl to find.