Читать книгу Twin Peril - Laura Scott - Страница 11

TWO

“Jonah, please. You have to believe me. I didn’t kill him!” Mallory fought to control the fear that began to constrict her throat.

“I guess it’s possible you’re being framed,” Jonah said slowly, in a tone laced with doubt. “But we’d have to prove it, which isn’t going to be easy. You have to tell me everything, Mallory, from the very beginning. I can’t help you if you hold back on me.”

For a moment she stared through the darkness at the trees passing in a blur outside her passenger-side window. She didn’t know if she could trust Jonah. What if she told him what she knew and he still arrested her? Caruso was a powerful man—she had no doubt he’d find a way to kill her even if she happened to be in jail. Yet if she didn’t tell him, Jonah would take her back to Milwaukee and arrest her for sure.

A no-win situation, either way.

She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I started dating Anthony Caruso a few months ago,” she admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Anthony Caruso?” Jonah interrupted with a frown. “Who’s he?”

“He’s an Illinois senator. I’m not normally into the political scene, but when I met him, I liked him. He told me he was providing Hugh Jefferson with capital for his condo project.”

At the time, dating him had seemed harmless. Caruso had been older than most of the men she’d dated—thirty-nine to her twenty-seven—but he’d been charming so she’d figured, why not? Looking back, she wondered how she could have been so stupid.

“An Illinois senator,” Jonah repeated under his breath, as if he couldn’t believe it. “I recognize his name now. It’s been all over the news. He’s a big deal in Washington. Exactly how did you meet him?”

“My boss, Rick Meyer, introduced me to him at one of the meetings about the Jefferson Project.” She glanced away, not wanting to see the censure in his eyes. “I— Things moved pretty fast. He literally swept me off my feet. Bought me gifts, took me to fancy restaurants and even flew me to New York to see a Broadway show.” She felt like an idiot now, knowing she’d been blinded by the wealth. And power. Anthony Caruso wielded a lot of power—more than she could have possibly suspected. “I never, in a million years, suspected he would get involved with anything illegal.”

She forced herself to look at Jonah. Sure enough, his eyebrows levered upward in surprise. “Caruso himself is involved? Seriously? Are you absolutely certain?”

He didn’t believe her, and that hurt. Why didn’t anyone take her seriously? She tilted her chin stubbornly. “Yes, I’m sure. I was leaving his office suite in the hotel after we’d had lunch but I forgot my purse. I went back in quietly so I wouldn’t disturb him. I saw him standing out on his terrace by himself, talking on his cell. He sounded very angry. I paused and overheard him telling the person on the other end of the line to do whatever was necessary to make sure the condo project went forward as planned because he had too much riding on it.”

“That statement isn’t necessarily incriminating,” Jonah pointed out. “Could be interpreted as having money on the line, which isn’t illegal. Anyone would be upset with losing money on a business deal.”

“I know. But then he said, ‘My sources tell me Schaefer was alive when he hit the E.R., so you better make sure our guy on the inside convinces the public his death was the result of gang violence.’” She remembered how horrified she’d felt in that moment, realizing the senator was actually discussing how to cover up a murder. “I retraced my steps, trying to sneak away, but I think he must have heard me. I caught a glimpse of his face as he came in from the terrace just as I closed the door behind me. I ran down the hall and avoided the elevator, choosing the stairs instead. I managed to get out of the building, but I couldn’t go home. I kept calling Alyssa’s place, but she didn’t pick up. I eventually went to her town house, using my key to get in. I had this crazy idea of borrowing her identity, but then I heard someone at the door and assumed it was my sister. Kent Wasserman barged in, holding a knife. We’d briefly met a few weeks earlier through Anthony. I was shocked to see him at Alyssa’s and knew he must have followed me. He lunged but I managed to get away, taking him down in the process. He fell on his knife.”

“You took him down?” Doubt radiated from his tone.

She narrowed her gaze. “Try me.” She didn’t bother explaining she’d been training in martial arts since her senior year in high school—specifically, since the night of the assault that had changed her life forever. She had absolutely no intention of explaining the private horror of her past to Jonah.

Besides, her past was old news. She’d moved beyond the assault, and she’d get herself out of this mess, as well. If necessary, she’d figure out something on her own. But she wasn’t going to allow any man to hold her helpless ever again. That included all of the thugs

Caruso sent out after her.

And Jonah Stewart, who was perhaps the most dangerous of all.

* * *

Jonah tried to mask his surprise. First, he found it hard to believe a state senator could actually be calling the shots in the Jefferson Project. And then of course there was the rest of Mallory’s story. Including the part where she claimed to have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. But she didn’t hedge the way people sometimes did when they were lying, and he found himself believing her.

“That’s a very serious allegation, Mallory. You’d better be sure about this. Anthony Caruso carries a lot of weight on Capitol Hill. There’s been talk about him being a candidate for vice president, or even for the presidency itself in a few years. I don’t think many people are going to believe your word over his.”

“I know.” She twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture. “That’s the reason I ran. But I promise you, I’m not lying about this. I know what I heard.”

“I believe you. But we need proof, Mallory. If we’re accusing a state senator of being involved, we need hard-core proof.”

“I know,” she murmured. Her face was grim and she sighed heavily. “Up until that point, I had no idea Anthony was involved in anything shady. I’d been dating him for almost a month and I never heard so much as an inkling of anything dangerous. It was a total fluke that I heard that snippet of his conversation at all. But I knew Councilman Schaefer had been stabbed so it didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

Jonah nodded, discovering he didn’t particularly care to hear about how she’d dated the guy.

Not that Mallory’s personal life was any of his concern.

He told himself to get a grip. “Okay, so you left

Alyssa’s town house after being attacked by Wasserman and escaped to Crystal Lake. Then what?”

She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “Then nothing. I left Alyssa a message to meet me and hunkered down to wait.”

“Anything out of the ordinary happen before tonight?” he persisted. “Anything at all to indicate Caruso had found you?”

“No. Not until I heard the guy sneaking through the cabin.”

If nothing else, the guy in the ski mask helped reinforce her story about overhearing Caruso’s conversation. There was no other reason for Caruso to try to kill her.

Unless there was far more to the story than she was telling him.

He didn’t want to think Mallory may have been a part of the crime, but he couldn’t totally discount the idea, either.

“Why didn’t you go to the police with your story?”

In the darkness he saw her scowl. “Because Anthony referred to our guy on the inside, making it difficult to know who to trust. Besides, I was waiting for Alyssa to meet me at the cabin. I guess I hoped we’d work together to figure out the next step.”

Grudgingly, he had to admit her instincts were right. It was actually a good thing that Mallory hadn’t gone to the police or Crane might have tried to silence her, too, the way he’d gone after Alyssa. “Do you remember anything else?”

“No. I wish I did. I wish I had proof I could simply hand over to you.” She looked totally dejected. He found himself wanting to reassure her, to make her feel better.

Which was totally ridiculous.

Getting too close to someone in the case was unacceptable. Hadn’t he learned that the hard way? It only took a fraction of a second to bring the image of his partner’s widow to mind.

He’d failed his partner, Drew Massey, when he’d lowered his guard with a young drug runner. And when Drew’s wife, Elaine, had accused him of causing Drew’s death, he couldn’t defend himself. Because she’d been right. Thanks to the eyewitness’s cell-phone video, the whole world had been able to see how he’d failed his partner. Including his fiancée. Cheryl had wasted no time in leaving him.

“I’m sorry, Jonah,” she said, interrupting his tumultuous thoughts. “I wish now that I had paid more attention.”

“Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’m not planning to stop for a while yet.”

“I’ll try,” she murmured.

She didn’t sleep, but she didn’t talk, either. He was oddly relieved to discover Mallory wasn’t the type to fill a silence with small talk.

No matter how much he told himself to keep an open mind, deep down, he believed Mallory’s story. For the past twenty-four hours, he’d been hoping that finding her would be the key to blowing his case wide open. But overhearing a snippet of a conversation wouldn’t get him anywhere close to pressing charges. If they couldn’t corroborate Mallory’s story, they had nothing.

Which meant not only was Mallory’s life still in danger, but he was right back to square one.

* * *

Mallory yawned so wide her jaw popped. She scrubbed at her gritty eyes, trying to force herself to stay awake. Finally, just as dawn was breaking over the horizon, Jonah pulled into a motel with a flashing vacancy sign out front.

“Where are we?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t even noticed the name of the town.

“Glen Hollow,” Jonah replied as he shut off the car and opened his door. “Population less than nine hundred.”

She slid out of the passenger seat. “Honestly, as long as there’s running water and a shower, I don’t care how many people live here.”

He flashed a tired grin, and she was struck by how handsome Jonah was. He wasn’t overly tall, just barely six feet in her estimation, but he was muscular. And she liked the way he wore his dark hair short. He opened the back door and rummaged around in a duffel bag. Before she could ask what he was doing, he stripped off his old shirt, revealing the blood-stained dressing covering the right side of his chest, before he pulled a black T-shirt over his head.

She turned away, feeling light-headed but unsure whether it was the blood or Jonah causing the sensation.

Must be the blood because she was immune to handsome men. She only dated men on her terms, determined to be the one in control. Never again would she let her guard down.

“Wait for me in the car,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t want the clerk to be able to identify you.”

Unable to argue with his logic, she nodded and slid back into the passenger seat. It was only a few minutes before he returned.

“Here.” He handed her a key. “We have adjoining rooms, numbers ten and twelve.”

“Ah, okay.” She was surprised he cared enough to respect her need for privacy. She couldn’t remember the last guy who’d put her needs before his own.

She told herself not to place too much emphasis on Jonah’s kindness. For all she knew, he was simply biding his time before he slipped handcuffs on her and hauled her off to jail.

If he tried that, he’d learn firsthand what it meant to be a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.

* * *

Jonah grabbed his laptop and his duffel bag from the backseat of his car. He caught Mallory eyeing his duffel with longing. Luckily he had plenty of cash—there would be time to pick up a few things for her later.

They went into their rooms. Jonah dropped his duffel bag on the bed and then crossed over to unlock the connecting door on his side of the two rooms. He was surprised to find that Mallory had already opened her side, too. He hovered in the doorway, not wanting to encroach on her personal space. The faint scent of juniper greeted him, as if Mallory had stashed a few Christmas trees inside. “I—uh—thought we’d head over to the diner for breakfast before we get some sleep.”

“Sure.” Her smile was weary. “But if you could stop at the front desk to get me a toothbrush, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He grabbed his computer and followed her outside.

She glanced at the computer in surprise. “Do you really think the café has Wi-Fi?”

“According to the desk clerk they do.” He’d made sure there was an internet connection in the rooms, too. “Figured I’d do some research on your former boyfriend over breakfast.”

Mallory didn’t say anything in response, but followed him inside the café. He chose a booth in the back. But when he booted up the computer, Mallory slid in beside him.

“What are you doing?” he asked in alarm, trying to ignore her juniper scent.

“I’m not just going to sit there and watch you work,” Mallory said in exasperation. “I can help.”

He wished he’d brought more than one computer, to keep Mallory on the opposite side of the booth where she belonged. Yet he could hardly blame her for wanting to help. When the waitress came over with a pot of coffee, he stopped her from filling his cup. “Just orange juice for me, please.”

“Me, too,” Mallory chimed in.

While they waited for their order, he began to search for recent information about Anthony Caruso.

“Do you know what we’re looking for?” Mallory asked.

“A needle in a haystack,” he muttered. His computer skills were decent, but attempting to breach the security of a state senator’s home computer probably wasn’t smart, especially on a public network, so he refrained. Thinking clearly wasn’t easy with Mallory glued to his side. He hadn’t been this distracted by a woman in a long time.

And he shouldn’t be now, while he was in the middle of a case.

They took a break from the computer search when their food arrived, and thankfully Mallory went back to her side of the booth. Neither of them said much as they ate. His original plan was to stay at the café and work while Mallory went back to the room to get some sleep. But exhaustion was already weighing him down.

Once they’d finished breakfast, Mallory again abandoned her side of the booth to slide in beside him.

“Why don’t you cross-reference Caruso’s name with Jefferson’s?” she suggested.

He typed in the two names, and the first item to come up was a newspaper article regarding a charity event that had been held a week ago, down at the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee. When a color photo bloomed on the screen, he heard Mallory gasp softly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. And then he noticed the slender woman in a deep blue gown standing off to the side. The photographer had only caught her back, but the woman’s short, curly blond hair matched Mallory’s. He glanced over at her as he lightly tapped the computer screen. “This is you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I attended the event with Anthony—he’s in the photo, too, right here, but you can’t see him very well.” Her face had gone pale as she stared at the photo.

“Did you remember something from that night?” he pressed, watching her carefully. “Maybe another conversation you overheard?”

“Anthony was angry when this guy came by to take our pictures. In fact, at the time I thought he was completely overreacting when he had stomped over to the photographer, demanding the photo be erased from his digital camera. Of course the camera guy had refused, and Hugh Jefferson had come over to calm down Anthony. Anthony and Jefferson went off to talk, and the next thing I knew, the entire incident was glossed over. When I asked Anthony about it later, he told me not to worry about it, because Jefferson convinced the cameraman not to list his name.”

He frowned and glanced back at the photograph he’d enlarged on the screen. “Strikes me as odd that the senator didn’t want his picture taken. Normally politicians love to be splashed all over the media.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I thought it was odd, too. In fact, up until that point, I hadn’t heard Anthony raise his voice to anyone. I think that was partially why I listened to his phone conversation the next night. He was always so smoothly charming.”

He swiveled in his seat to stare at her. “Are you telling me this charity event was the night before you overheard him trying to cover up Councilman Schaefer’s murder?”

“Yes. The benefit was on Thursday night, and I overheard the conversation the next day. We’d originally made plans to have lunch, but then Anthony backed out, saying something important at work had come up. Next thing I knew, he was talking about covering up a murder.”

His gut clenched when he realized how lucky she’d been to get away from Caruso’s thug not just once, but twice. He was thankful Mallory had managed to get away, or the outcome of Wasserman’s attack could have been very different.

God was definitely watching over her. Watching over both of them.

And this time, he wouldn’t mess up like he had the night his partner had died.

Please, God, give me the strength and the knowledge to keep Mallory safe.

He stared at the surprisingly clear photograph. It was easy to recognize Senator Caruso now that she’d pointed him out. But why would the guy go to a public charity event only to become upset when he was photographed? None of this made any sense.

Had something else happened that night? Something significant enough to put Caruso on edge? Something that may have sent the entire house of cards that Jefferson built tumbling to the ground?

His blood ran cold.

What if Mallory had become a target not just because she’d overheard Caruso’s patio conversation, but because she saw or heard something with even more significance? Something so damaging, Caruso had no choice but to silence her forever?