Deadly Purpose, page 8
“Why the hell did you do that? You know more than anything else, that’s what will make you look guilty.”
“I do know that. But Julius was ready to launch his expansion, and if I left that money and the devices became available in Asia, people were going to die. What happened that night made me realize Julius is completely unbalanced, and I had to get out. I didn’t feel safe staying with him, especially because I know he keeps a loaded gun in his nightstand.”
“Something you have in common.”
“Ha. I didn’t start carrying my dad’s gun until recently.”
“Finish it. Tell me the rest.”
“Right. It’s pretty simple, really. I knew there was unused Diazepam in the medicine cabinet. Julius went out on the deck, and I did a quick online search to find the dose that would knock out a two-hundred-and-forty-pound man, but not kill him. I learned that alcohol magnifies the effects of the drug.” She shrugged. “I made salsa with extra jalapeños, chips with extra salt, and crushed the Diazepam to a powder and poured it into his beer. He was out in twenty minutes.”
Declan regarded her with a ghost of a smile on his face. “I shouldn’t admire that, but damn, you’re good.”
“Yeah. Pretty scary how easy it was. I gave myself enough time to get to my mother’s house before I called for medical assistance. As you can see, any lawyer will have an easy time getting a conviction for attempted murder.”
“I don’t think they could prove attempted murder. How did you get the money?”
She chewed on her thumbnail, then lowered her hand when she caught him watching her. “I had all his passwords. Can you believe, he never changes them? I accessed one of his accounts and transferred a large amount of money. It’s gone now.”
“What do you mean it’s gone? What did you do with it?”
“Gave it away.”
“Explain, Meghan.” Not sure why it sounded sexy when he said it, she decided she’d never again complain about his use of her unabbreviated name.
“Have you heard of microgrants?”
“Microloans, yes. I’m guessing the grants don’t have to be paid back.”
“Right. I gave the money away.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“A little under a million dollars.”
He gave a low whistle. “Where exactly did the money go?”
“Like I said, I gave it away. To women mostly. Women like my mother who struggled to raise their children without a husband. I gave a grant to a woman in Ethiopia who will use it to dig a well in her village so the girls there won’t have to walk three miles every day to get water. I found a woman in Afghanistan whose family shunned her after she was raped and became pregnant. After she finishes her education she will have the funds to start a school for girls where her daughter will attend.
“Then there’s the woman in the southside of Chicago who wants to be a doctor and practice medicine in her old neighborhood, the same neighborhood where her brother was shot dead after pointing a BB gun at the police.”
“He shouldn’t have been pointing a BB gun at police.”
“No, he shouldn’t. And I’d hate to be a cop in that situation. But neither should the boy be dead.”
Declan nodded. “And now the money’s gone.”
“Yes. I disbursed the last of it earlier today.”
He rose to his feet, picking up the board where only a few crumbs remained of the pizza to carry to the kitchen. “You’re not going to jail,” he said over his shoulder.
She almost believed him.
Chapter Eight
Meg sat up in the dark, fingers clutching the quilt in a death grip, not sure if a bad dream had woken her or a noise from inside the cabin. She’d moved to the little room she’d slept in all those long-ago summers. Through the square windowpane high in the apex of the A-frame, tiny specks of light told her the sky had cleared and stars were glittering from millions of miles away.
The bedroom door swung open silently, the motion barely discernable in the faint glow from a nightlight on the landing. A call for Declan nearly escaped her lips when she felt a weight land on her feet. She let out a wheezy breath when Buttercup climbed over the mounds created by her knees to stand on her stomach.
Meg stroked the cat behind her ears and felt her heart rate level out as the little calico began a gentle purring. She settled back on her pillow, Buttercup a warm and comforting presence curled against her.
The next time she opened her eyes, daylight streamed in through the high window. She lay for a moment, squeezing her eyes against sudden tears. Today was the day.
Pushing against the melancholy, she rose and padded across the small landing to use the upstairs bathroom. She was brushing her teeth when she heard voices. She recognized Declan’s deep tones in conversation with another man. She rinsed, then stepped out onto the landing, padding quietly in her stockinged feet.
The conversation came from the porch, then the voices faded as the men moved away. A minute later the door opened, and Declan stepped inside.
***
Dex shut the door. An early morning phone call to his contact at the FBI, plus his conversation with his friend the police chief, had left him irritated. The situation was getting more complicated, and he didn’t like complicated.
He glanced up to find the source of that complication at the top of the stairs. Tousled hair, heart-shaped face, eyes big enough to drown in. The slap of attraction wasn’t welcome. He’d been doing fine on his own, writing, doing repairs on the cabin. Getting his head around the fact he was no longer a cop, that he’d sucked as a husband. But in the short time since she’d arrived, Meg had burrowed under his skin. Made him feel when not feeling was a whole lot easier. Chasing an armed banger through a filth-strewn alley in LA was preferable in every way to having his heart beaten to a pulp one more time.
But protective instincts were hard to bury, and the urge to protect her from the fucker Julius Merritt was undeniable. In Dex’s years on the force he’d worked with plenty of women physically and mentally able to take care of themselves in about every situation, and without doubt Meg was one of them. But for some messed-up reason she compelled him to pull out his metaphorical sword and stand between her and the dragon.
She descended the stairs slowly, her gaze locked on his. He rocked back on his heels, tucking his hands in his back pockets to keep from reaching for her. Thinking about what he’d like to do once he had them on her only ramped up his frustration. Developing a thing for her was damn distracting and inconvenient, and not what he’d been looking for.
“Who was that?”
Low and easy, even her voice was sexy. “Brad Gallagher, police chief of Hangman’s Loss.”
“Was he looking for me?”
Dex shook his head. “No. And he didn’t mention the car out front, or the small-sized boots by the door.” He shrugged. “Probably thinks I got lucky.”
“A lot he knows.”
“Yeah. Anyway, snowplow came through about an hour ago. I already cleared the driveway. Get yourself some breakfast and we’ll head into town.”
“To see him?”
The bleakness in her expression had him beating back the dragon-slayer urge once again. “Not you, me. I helped Brad with a case involving his sister a while back. It’s getting close to the court date and I’ll need to testify. Brad was in the area and dropped by to tell me the lawyers are in town today taking depositions. Getting mine done in Hangman’s Loss saves me from having to drive to the county seat in Bridgeport.”
She stood straighter, shoulders squared, as if bracing for a blow. “Then this is it. I’ll go with you and turn over the flash drive to your police chief friend.” Knuckles gripping the bannister showed white. “I’ll tell him everything. I won’t try to get bail because I’ll be safer in jail where Julius can’t get to me.”
“You’re not going to jail.”
“You keep saying that, but once I tell the chief I slipped drugs into Julius’s beer and embezzled that money, he won’t have any choice.”
Dex was working on that, but couldn’t say anything. She pulled at him, made him feel despite the lock he’d put on his emotions. Not able to stop himself, he reached for her hand, easing her grip from the rail and holding it firmly between his. Her startled expression told him he’d surprised her, but he didn’t let go.
“Don’t talk to him yet.” He shook his head when she opened her mouth in protest. “Hang on. First, you’re not saying anything to the police without talking to an attorney. There’s a lawyer in town who’s smart. I called her and she said she has time this morning so you have an appointment in forty minutes. If that doesn’t work for you, you can cancel, but I called her on the off chance she’d have time today, and so you’d have the option.
“Second, Brad will be busy giving his own deposition, so he’s not going to mind waiting. You’re safe right now. Even if Merritt is after you, with that storm we had, the passes will be closed until the plows can get through, so the only way over the mountain today is by air, and the closest airport that’s not snowed in is probably Reno. If he’s not already here, he won’t be getting to Hangman’s Loss today.” And idiot that he was, Dex wanted a little more normal with Meghan Bennett before diving into the battle to keep her out of jail.
Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Okay,” she uttered the word on a gusty breath. “I’ll wait until tomorrow to talk to the chief. But I can’t pay for an attorney until I can access my bank accounts.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Only if you’ll let me pay you back.” At his nod, she continued, “I can drive my car to the attorney’s office, then come back here.”
He interlaced his fingers with hers and tugged her closer. He liked the feel of her hand in his a little too much. “Come with me. The sun’s out and it’s warming up outside. If you finish with the attorney before I’m done giving my statement, you can check out the town, walk around a bit without freezing. We can go out to lunch after.”
She hesitated, then must have weighed the options in favor of his plan, because she smiled, twin dimples in her cheeks, and he felt the hit straight to his gut. He was doomed.
The entire package was seductive enough, but he was a sucker for dimples. Going with the impulse, he did what he’d wanted to do since the moment he’d opened the door to find her standing on his doorstep. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. A brief kiss, but firm enough to let her know he was interested.
The sexy little catch in her breathing did nothing to stop the blood arrowing from his brain straight south. She didn’t jerk back, and she didn’t punch him. Good signs as far as he was concerned. He eased back, loosening his grip on her hands.
She was already shaking her head. “Oh, no, mister. You started it. You’re not backing out now.”
She reached up to tug the collar of his shirt and brought his head down, going up on her toes to lock her lips on his in a kiss that about knocked him out at the knees. He gripped her hips and pulled her in to get the full-body effect and went with it.
Wild and electric like the summer thunderstorms that whipped through the mountains, the kiss took them deeper than he thought either of them expected. When her lips left his and she dropped onto her heels, he stepped back carefully as if a single false move would set off unstable dynamite.
She cleared her throat. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” He had to admit it was gratifying to see she wasn’t making any attempt to hide that the kiss had knocked her on her ass, figuratively speaking, too. “I had a feeling.”
“Did you?” He stifled a groan when she ran her tongue over her lips as if savoring the last trace of him. “Uhm, we shouldn’t do that again.”
“You think after we’ve had that taste we won’t want the full meal?” He agreed with her. They absolutely should not get tangled up together, but he couldn’t seem to shut up.
“Is ‘full meal’ code for sex?”
He gave a snort of laughter. That she clouded his brain with lust at the same time as making him laugh was an intoxicating combination. “Hell yeah, it’s code for sex.”
“I thought so.” She backed up a full step. “Declan Murphy, you need to stay away from me. I’m going to jail.”
“You’re not going to jail.”
“You don’t know that, and regardless, mixing up with you risks my sanity. No more kisses.”
“I don’t think either of us will be able to stop that from happening.”
She shook her head emphatically. “We’ll forget this little incident ever occurred.” She held up her hands like she was trying to stop traffic, reaching a foot back to climb the stairs backwards and keep a wary eye on him as she retreated.
“Did you make coffee already?”
He shook his head, and she said, “Good, then we’ll pick some up in town. That’ll get us out of the house quicker. Safer that way. There will be no need for more kisses.”
“You know, every time you say ‘kiss’ my mind goes crazy with all the places I’d like to put my lips on you.”
Her cheeks flushed pink and made him want to scoop her up and tumble her into his bed to put the fantasy into practice.
She backed up another step and mimed zipping her lips. “No more mention of kisses. The word ‘kiss’ is officially out of my vocabulary.”
***
Meg sat in the passenger seat of the 4Runner as Declan shifted from second to third on the winding mountain road. Two days before she had been ill, traveling this road toward the cabin, hoping to hole up until she recovered from the flu and could deal with Julius. Now she still had to deal with Julius, jail remained a dark stain on the horizon and getting closer every minute, but with Declan at her side she didn’t feel so alone. The reprieve he offered was only temporary, but she savored it nonetheless.
With the skies clear and the sun shining, the melting snow made little rivulets along the road and already pine trees were dumping the heavy clumps from their branches. Declan eased on the brakes, coming to a stop to allow a trio of deer to pick their way across the road on impossibly slender legs.
“Deer. Oh my. They’re so beautiful. And there’s a baby. How cute.” The look he sent her had her tilting her chin. “So? I don’t live in the mountains where it’s common to see deer. And even if I did I’d still be excited.”
“Deer make you excited.”
“I love seeing animals in the wild. So yeah, I get super excited when I see deer.”
“I don’t think you can say that either.”
“What, deer?”
“Excited.”
“I can’t say ‘excited’? Why not?”
“Same result as ‘kiss.’”
She didn’t dare look at his lap for evidence of exactly how the word might be affecting him. “You’re easy if a few little words are enough to get your engine going.”
He glanced at her, right eyebrow rising in a dark arc, the curve of what she now knew were luscious lips forming a grin. “Never had that problem before. Must be something about you.”
“Enough. I’m imposing a moratorium on flirty talk.”
He must have realized she was serious because he gave a brief nod. “Okay.”
Determined to get the most from her last day of freedom, Meg relaxed in her seat, taking in the scenery. The deep cerulean blue sky contrasted markedly with the gray granite soaring mountain peaks, their slopes in stark white. Living in Santa Cruz on gorgeous Monterey Bay there had been plenty of days so beautiful her heart ached with it, but the Sierras held a different kind of beauty, rugged and untamed. If prison wasn’t in her future, she could relocate here. The last thought had her pushing resolutely against the despair gathering like a dark cloud.
They dropped in elevation as they neared town, the 4Runner easily handling the patches of black ice that slicked the stretches of road still shaded from the sun. More cabins were visible through tall trunks, and the pine forest grew thinner. Hangman Lake came into view, a calm serene surface reflecting back the blue sky. A sign for a resort flashed by, and tiny cabins sat nestled among the trees with the lake a picturesque backdrop.
“A friend owns Hangman’s Best on Main Street, it’s a bakery/café deal. We can get coffee there. The attorney is right around the corner. When you’re done, if you want to take a walk and see the town, that’s a good place to start.” He slowed as they entered Hangman’s Loss and the road they were on became Main Street. “Give me your cell number and I’ll give you a call when I’m done. We can meet back at the café for lunch.”
“I thought you said there was no cell service up here.”
He glanced at her. “There’s service in town, but it’s inconsistent at the cabin. Sometimes you get lucky.”
She was already shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t give you my number. My cell is turned off, and I’m using a burner phone only for absolute emergencies. I don’t want to make it any easier for Julius to find me.”
“He’d have to have the number to trace it.”
“I know, but it still makes me nervous.”
“That’s irrational.”
“Probably, but I left it at the cabin, so it’s a moot point.”
They pulled up at a stop sign, and Declan hitched up his hip to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. He handed it to her. “Take mine. I’ll call from the police station when they’re done with me. You can tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.”
“You don’t have to give me your phone. I’ll be fine.”
Apparently, there was no arguing with Declan Murphy when he set his mind to something. He parked on the street, and when Meg climbed out of the vehicle, she still held his phone in her hand. An A-frame sign on the wooden boardwalk read “Hangman’s Best Café and Bakery.” She breathed in deep the crisp mountain air that held the scents of pine and woodsmoke. Declan strode forward to open the door for a woman with a colorful knit cap on her head pushing a double-wide stroller.
The woman paused at the entrance when she spied them. “Dex, it’s so good to see you.” She reached up to give him a hard hug, a move that seemed to catch him by surprise. She pushed the stroller that looked like it could climb mountain trails all on its own while Declan held open the door. They followed her into the building.
