Catching the Bad Guy (Book Two) (Janet Maple Series) (26 page)

“Are you telling me that having Muller
get his justice served to him is a horrible thing to do? And let’s not forget
Cornelius Finnegan and his honcho, Kingsley. Do you think that these crooks
should be allowed to remain in public office, free to do whatever they please?”

Janet felt Dennis’s stare burrowing into
her face. When she looked up, she was stunned to see that his eyes were filled with
genuine bewilderment. Up until now, she had thought those blue eyes to be sexy,
playful, and warm, but now she thought them calculating and hateful.

“I want Muller to get justice served to
him as much as you do, probably more so. And God knows I have enough reasons to
want to see Kingsley and Finnegan kicked out on their butts, but unlike you I
still have some decency left.”

“Decency left?”

“Yes, decency. Don’t you think it’s
wrong to use that poor woman? Don’t you even care about—” Janet cut herself short
before she could blurt out what was truly on her mind.

“Care about what?” Dennis moved toward
her, standing so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his skin.

Janet stared back at him. Don’t you care
about me? She wanted to scream. Didn’t you care about me when you had me
procure evidence for you for the Bostoff case? Or was I nothing but a source of
information to you? But instead she said, “About the people involved.”

“Of course I care. But Janet, one must
consider the good of many versus the good of one person.”

There, she had her answer. Janet hung
her head to hide the tears that suddenly sprung up in her eyes. She felt like
such an idiot. Why was it that she always ended up being attracted to the wrong
guy? As it turned out, Dennis was no better than Alex. Dennis was just as
ruthless and just as unprincipled. The only difference was that Dennis happened
to play on a different side of the law—the side that just happened to be the
right side—but the techniques that Dennis was willing to use to achieve his aim
could hardly be called right.

“Do you think I like the idea of praying
on the emotions of a lonely woman in order to get the evidence?” Dennis
continued, oblivious to Janet’s turmoil.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

Dennis’s expression darkened. “That was
uncalled for. I think you know me better than that.”

Do I? Janet wondered. At the moment, she
had no idea who Dennis Walker was. “Do what you want, Dennis, but I no longer
want anything to do with this case.”

Dennis Walker pushed his laptop away and
checked his watch. Instead of enjoying his Friday night, he was cooped up
inside his apartment, waiting for Laskin to call. It was getting close: if
Muller was indeed going to meet with Finnegan this Saturday, Dennis would need
to know the place of their rendezvous right about now in order to make all the
necessary preparations. Laskin was sure taking his time, but Dennis would be
damned if he made the first move. This was just like playing the stare game:
whoever blinked first, lost.

Laskin would call—Dennis was sure of it.
Or at least he wanted to believe that he was sure of it because right now there
were too many matters that he was unsure about. Like his investigation methods
for one, and the reason he was in his profession for another. But right now was
not the time to dwell on his doubts, just like it was not the time to think
about the woman who had caused them: Janet Maple.

Is there nothing you would stop at to
solve a case? she had asked him. Janet’s outraged voice still rang in Dennis’s
ears, and the repulsed expression on her face hung before his eyes. The honest
answer to Janet’s question was no. No, he had stopped at nothing to solve a
case until … until he met Janet Maple. If Dennis had known about the havoc
Janet would bring into his life, he would have run in the opposite direction
from the Bostoff Securities undercover assignment. Laskin had wanted the job,
but Dennis had snatched it from under his nose, and now Dennis was paying the
price—had been paying the price ever since Janet Maple crossed his path.

Is there nothing you would stop at to
solve a case? How could she ask him that when he had gone out on a limb in
order to secure immunity for her and her friend Lisa during the Bostoff
investigation? How could Janet doubt him when he had done everything he could
to ensure that Jon Bostoff would receive credit for his cooperation with the
investigation? Another investigator would not have cared, but Dennis had put
his neck on the line because he wanted a just outcome for the investigation.
Jon Bostoff’s biggest offense was that he had been stupid enough to become
Muller’s pawn. And as for Janet and Lisa, they were simply in the wrong place
at the wrong time. Muller was the true culprit.

Dennis had even gone as far as putting
in a good word for Janet with his boss at the Treasury. After all, Dennis felt
responsible for Janet losing her job as assistant general counsel at Bostoff
Securities, so he had gotten her a job at the Treasury Investigations
department—a job that he knew she would be good at. Was it easy for him to come
to work every day and see the woman he wanted to do a number of things to in
the bedroom but instead having his interactions with her reduced to no more
than a handshake and an occasional kiss on the cheek? No, but he did it anyway
because he was a decent guy. And what was his reward? The case against David
Muller was thrown out for lack of evidence, and Jon Bostoff was made the
scapegoat. Hardly the career-making achievement Dennis had hoped the Bostoff /
Muller case would be. Not to mention that Dennis’s boss was later fired to be
replaced with the arrogant—and, as was now known, corrupt—Alex Kingsley. If
this was not enough to make one go on the war path, Dennis did not know what
was. He had thought that Janet was his wingman, but now that they were a mere
hairbreadth away from getting the evidence they needed, Dennis learned that his
wingman did not have his back.

Is there nothing you would stop at to
solve a case? Dennis shook his head. At the time, his plan had seemed perfect.
How could he have ever predicted that Laskin would lose his head over Aileen
Finnegan? Laskin who was Mr. Do-it-by-the-book and was always so eager to get
out into the field? And what did Laskin do the moment he got into the field?
Messed up the entire case. But apparently Janet thought it forgivable for
Laskin to compromise the investigation, accusing Dennis of being in the wrong.

The sound of Dennis’s ringing cell phone
jerked him out of his reverie. He looked at the caller ID and could not resist
a grin of satisfaction when he saw Laskin’s number. “Yes,” was all Dennis said
when he answered the phone, deciding to make Laskin squirm a little.

“Dennis, it’s me, Peter.”

“I know. I’ve got one of those caller ID
things. What is it you want to tell me on a Friday night, Peter? Or are you
calling to ask me out on a date?”

“I have the information you asked for,
and I’d appreciate it if you’d put your sarcasm on ice for the duration of this
conversation,” Laskin said, his voice cool as a cucumber.

“You sure took your time getting me the
information I need, so let’s hear it before it becomes irrelevant.”

“Muller is going to meet with Finnegan
tomorrow at eight p.m. at Keens steakhouse. They will be sitting in a private
dining room on the second floor.”

“Excellent. Now why did you have to wait
until Friday evening to tell me this valuable information?”

There was silence on the other end of
the line, so Dennis furnished the answer to his own question. “Because you
thought that if you waited this long I wouldn’t have enough time to get the
evidence I need. But you’re wrong; I’ll still get it. Thank you for your help,
Peter.” Dennis was about to hang up when Laskin’s pleading voice erupted on the
other side of the receiver.

“Promise that you’ll leave Aileen out of
this!”

“I promise, Peter. If everything goes as
planned, after tomorrow we’ll have more than enough evidence for the case.”

Dennis hung up the phone. Then he pulled
up Janet’s number and pressed the dial button. One, two, three rings—could it
be that she was avoiding him? Of course Dennis could have called from a private
phone line, but he was not going to use that option. If he was going to get
Janet’s help, he was going to get it with full disclosure, as she had
requested.

“Why are you calling me?” Janet’s
ice-cold voice cut like a knife.

“Whoa, Janet. Good evening to you too.”
Dennis managed not to lose his cool. He had never heard her with such a tone of
voice before. “Can you talk?” Dennis listened to the background noise in the
receiver. Was she out with her girlfriends, being flirted at by some guys at a
bar, or worse, out on a date?

“The question is not whether I can, but
rather why should I want to?”

Fine, have it your way, Dennis thought.
“Because, your royal ice highness, I have some valuable information that will
help us solve the case, and I need your help.”

“The amazing Dennis Walker needs
someone’s help. I never thought I’d see the day.”

She was teasing him, and she was
enjoying it. Dennis, on the other hand, was not enjoying this in the least; he
hated it when people had fun at his expense. “Cut the crap, Janet. Do you want
to put Muller away or what? Or perhaps you like the idea of working for
Kingsley?”

“No, I don’t. But neither do I like your
unprincipled evidence-obtaining techniques.”

“That’s a long-winded phrase. Now,
listen up. Here’s the deal: Finnegan is going to meet Muller tomorrow at eight
at Keens. We need to get our behinds over there tomorrow to set things up.”

“What is it you want me to do?”

“Nothing much; just wear a pretty dress
and smile a lot. I’ll take care of the rest. Do you think you could do that?”

“I can do a lot more than that. But
before I agree to do anything, you have to tell me your plan. Assuming you have
one, of course.”

“Well, then, this should be a piece of
cake. See you tomorrow in front of Keens at five p.m. sharp.” Dennis hung up
before Janet had the chance to unleash another one of her nasty remarks, which
had been peppering her speech lately.

Janet surveyed her reflection in the
mirror. She had on a red knit dress with a surplice neckline and a flared
skirt. Her feet were clad in black high-heeled boots. She had spent close to an
hour with a curling iron, cajoling her hair to fall down her shoulders in soft,
voluminous curls; the process had been tedious but the result was definitely
worth it. A coat of cherry gloss shone on her lips, and her eyelashes looked
lush and long, courtesy of Estee Lauder mascara. She liked what she saw, even
if she did say so herself.

With the amount of care she had put into
her looks, one would think she was primping for a date. Instead, she was
preparing for a work assignment, or at least she thought that she was going on
a work-related assignment. Dennis had said that he had a plan, and Janet hoped
that her efforts would pay off. The possibility of success seemed slim, but she
had said yes nonetheless. To be more specific, she did not get a chance to say
yes or no, as Dennis had hung up on her before she could reply. She had considered
standing him up, which she was fairly certain would be a new experience for
Dennis and would serve him right, but then decided against it. Her opinion of
Dennis’s tactics had not changed, but she worried that if left on his own, the
man would ruin the investigation. At least this way, Janet would be there to
contain him.

What a load of crap, Janet thought. The
real reason she had spent close to two hours primping herself for her meeting
with Dennis was because she wanted to see him, and she hated herself for it.
Despite his questionable ethics—or to be precise, lack of such—she still turned
to jelly every time she heard the man’s voice or saw his unbearably handsome
face. Janet puffed her cheeks with air and blew it loudly out of her mouth.
Dennis Walker was the bane of her existence. Not only was the man endangering
the investigation with his reckless attitude, he was clouding Janet’s judgment
with his good looks and smug yet somehow charming and irresistible demeanor.
The man was a bona fide hazard.

Janet checked her reflection one last
time. She could not remember the last time she had looked this decked out,
which was another disquieting example of the power that Dennis Walker held over
her. “This is for a work assignment. Our meeting will be purely professional,”
Janet assured herself. “Work assignment, my ass,” she muttered, admitting the
futility of her words. Sure, Dennis had asked her to look pretty, but there
were many levels of pretty, and she had pulled out all the stops. Her heart was
beating wildly, and her cheeks were flushed with anticipation. The truth of the
matter was that, at the moment, she did not give a rat’s behind about both
Muller and Finnegan combined. All she could think of was that it was Saturday,
and she was about to see Dennis Walker.

It was five minutes past five when Janet
approached the entrance to Keens steakhouse. She eyed the dark, old fashioned
façade, failing to find any signs of Dennis Walker. She looked around, unsure
what to do. Dennis had said five p.m., and she had been purposely late by five
minutes to ensure that he would be the first one to arrive.