Читать книгу Men of Honour: Ready, Set, Jett / When You Dare / Trace of Fever / Savor the Danger / A Perfect Storm / What Chris Wants / Bare It All - Lori Foster - Страница 28

DARE SAT IN HIS SUV, waiting. Impatient, but unwavering. He’d done many stakeouts, but this one was different. This time he wasn’t watching for the victim or planning to trail a suspect. This time, he wanted information only.

And he’d get what he wanted. Already he’d discovered things, and he didn’t like any of it. Now he needed more. He needed a clearer picture of the circumstances.

Molly’s father could supply that.

Trace had been invaluable in doing a quick rundown on Bishop Alexander. A more thorough analysis would follow; in fact, Trace was working on that right now. He would scour Bishop’s past, dig into his present and even take apart future plans to get as much intelligence as possible. Very shortly, Dare would know more about Bishop Alexander than he knew of himself.

Dare grinned, glad that he’d have an opportunity to return Trace’s money to him. Accepting financial compensation from his friend hadn’t felt right, especially when the job involved Alani. Years of hard work, wise investments and good sense had already amassed him a small fortune. He didn’t need Trace’s money. He didn’t really need anyone’s money. More often than not, he continued to accept assignments to keep his edge and to feed his need for excitement.

Money had little to do with it these days. Thanks to Trace’s incomparable investigative skills, Dare now had the excuse to pay him back in full.

Dare considered the information Trace had already supplied. By all accounts, Molly’s father felt omnipotent to all the “lesser” people around him, including his daughters and his wife. Other than some shady business dealings, he didn’t even try to conceal his transgressions. Because he hadn’t done a very good job of building a bond with a longstanding assistant, it had been easy to glean info.

Some people had no idea how to cover their tracks.

One kernel of data led to another, public records gave clues to private information—and now Dare had enough to accomplish his task today.

Beneath the shade of an ornamental tree that blocked some of the bright sunshine, Dare had watched Bishop drive up in a shiny black Mercedes. The older man had emerged in GQ golf duds, a cell phone to his ear and a shiny platinum ring glinting on his finger.

Bishop had paid little enough attention to the valet as the young man took his keys to park the car. Dare heard him laugh, saw him lift a hand to hail other men and then join a small group of distinguished-looking friends or colleagues.

Bishop Alexander did not act like a man with a missing daughter.

That had been hours ago. Sooner or later, he had to come back out. Dare checked his watch and considered what his next move would be. Should he confront Bishop here, in front of the others?

How dare the man play golf anyway? Wasn’t he worried about Molly? Or was it just that he had business responsibilities? Dare well knew the value of cultivating connections; could this be Bishop’s purpose today? Maybe he was putting on a good front to hide the personal troubles in his own family.

The emotional involvement of this assignment was different for Dare. Usually he hunted for the truth with detached resolve. He did a good job because that’s what he was paid to do.

Now, for Molly, he wanted to ferret out the truth because keeping her safe mattered to him personally.

Last night … God almighty, he’d wanted her. He still wanted her. Being away from her hadn’t changed that.

But last night she’d needed something altogether different from him. She hadn’t even noticed his boner, or the heat pouring off him. She’d held on to him like a lifeline, and … he’d liked it. He liked her.

It didn’t matter how hard the circumstances might be on him; until Molly got through this, until she regained some control over her life, he would continue to do what he could for her. If that meant holding her every damn night, then so be it.

He would damn well keep his hands to himself.

Until she was ready.

Dare was thinking of her eventual readiness when Bishop finally emerged from the club. Though he’d been out in the sun for hours, his well-groomed, silver-tipped hair looked like it had just been styled. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but not his smile as he chatted up another, taller man. They laughed together, and Bishop clapped the other fellow on the shoulder as a farewell. The friend veered off in a different direction, leaving Bishop alone, waiting on the valet.

Fuck it.

Before the valet noticed him, Dare got out of his car and looked over the roof. “Bishop Alexander?”

Molly’s father looked up.

Predatory anticipation filled Dare. “Got a minute?”

Taking off his glasses, Bishop stared toward Dare. “Do I know you?”

Dare didn’t move from his relaxed position outside the driver’s side of his SUV. “We haven’t formally met, but your daughter has told me about you.”

Bishop went still, but only for a second. A calculated expression reshaped his features, and he slunk closer with caution. “Which daughter would that be?”

Of course the bastard felt safe. They were in front of an exclusive club where only members were allowed. Bishop wouldn’t realize that Dare went where he wanted, when he wanted. Getting past the gate had been child’s play for a man of his means.

For Bishop, his money and social influence were his strength. But Dare didn’t give a shit about any of that.

“The daughter who’s been missing.”

In an instant, Bishop’s jaw firmed, and he surged forward with the confidence of a man used to power and prestige. “What do you know of that?”

So he realized Molly had been missing. Interesting. “I found Molly, and I thought you might be interested in the … details.”

That did it. After waving off the approaching valet, Bishop moved to confront Dare. Voice lowered and infused with suspicion, he said, “I don’t know what this is about, but if you think to blackmail me, I can tell you that it won’t work. You won’t get a single cent from me.”

It took all of Dare’s resolve not to plant his fist in Bishop’s face. Feigning a boredom he didn’t feel, Dare said, “Does that mean you’re not curious about where she was, or how she got there?”

On uncertain ground, Bishop flexed his fingers while trying to gauge his opponent. Finally, after smoothing his already smooth hair, he tweaked the collar of his golf shirt and played blasé. “I assumed she was off on another research trip.”

“Yeah?” Arms relaxed, stance negligent, Dare smiled. “And you thought I’d blackmail you over that?”

“What else?” All decorum fled as he said, “Thanks to her absurd vocation, Molly gets herself into preposterous situations.”

“Like what? Being kidnapped?”

“Kidnapped?” For only a moment, Bishop rocked back in shock before realizing how loudly he’d spoken. Appalled at himself, he again looked around to ensure no one had overheard him.

“That’s right. Taken against her will.” Enunciating slowly, Dare said, “Abducted.”

“But …” He blustered in disbelief. “That’s absurd.”

Dare shook his head. “It’s a fact.”

Not missing a beat, Bishop asked, “But she’s safe now?”

Did the man care? Or was he pondering his own position in things? “She’s safe.”

After letting out a breath, trying to shush Dare with his own example, Bishop said, “Look, this has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re her father.”

“An irrefutable fact.” Bishop sounded pained by the relationship. “But you’d have to understand my daughter. She is not conventional. She is not circumspect. It’s a fault I have lamented for years.”

Dare said nothing—which prompted Bishop to say a lot.

“Just what the hell do you want from me? You certainly can’t expect me to take charge of Molly’s every misfortune.”

Being kidnapped was a misfortune? “You’re a real asshole, aren’t you, Bishop?” Dare didn’t bother being circumspect, which prompted Bishop to another quick survey of their surroundings. “Do you have any idea where your daughter was?”

“Since I didn’t know of any of this, how could I?”

“Do you even care?”

Bishop flattened his mouth—and refused to reply.

Deep down, rage simmered in Dare, but he didn’t show it. “You know, I have to ask myself—why would a father be so indifferent to his daughter’s well-being—unless he was the one who had arranged her misfortune.”

Jaw going slack and face coloring, Bishop blinked in an effort to reconcile himself with the accusation. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” And then with new heat: “What the hell are you talking about? Do you know who I am? Do you know my standing in society?”

Hmm. He had looked genuinely surprised by it all.

Dare decided to press him. Coming out from around the SUV door, he closed the distance to Molly’s father. At around five feet, nine inches, Bishop stood damn near a half foot shorter than Dare. He was lean, toned, but he lacked any real strength.

Physically, he was half the man Dare was. In character, he was a worm.

“So, Bishop,” Dare said, “it would surprise you to learn that your daughter was snatched out front of her apartment building?”

“That’s ridiculous. Who would want Molly?”

God almighty, Dare wanted to hit him. One good pop to the nose, that’s all. Bishop wouldn’t be so smug or condescending with his own blood splattered over his face. “And I guess you didn’t know that she was taken to Tijuana, held captive, starved, tormented and threatened?”

“I don’t believe you,” Bishop blustered. The earlier hot color leached from his face. He said again, “I don’t believe you.”

“She was taken, all right.”

Even while shaking his head in denial, Bishop muttered, “But … why?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Perplexed, Bishop looked down in thought, then glared at Dare. “This is hard to accept. And what do you have to do with it, anyway?”

“Not a damn thing, except that I’m the one who found her.”

With even more suspicion, Bishop asked, “In Tijuana?”

“Yes.” Keeping it vague, Dare gave a bare-bones assessment. “I was there for unrelated reasons, and I saw her. Her condition was not good.”

“What do you mean?” And in accusation: “You said she was okay.”

“She’s alive, and she’s healing.” Physically. Emotionally … Dare just didn’t know. “But she was poorly treated.”

The seconds ticked by; Bishop swallowed. “Raped?”

“She says not.” The rapid-fire questions felt more devious than frantic.

“Who had her?”

“People who deal in white slavery.”

Bishop blanched in horror. “Dear God. White slavery? But surely … Where is she now?” He looked around aghast as if expecting her to suddenly appear. “She’s not with you, is she?”

“I told you, she’s safe. I have her well away from here.” Away from you.

“I see.” Though he tried to hide it, Bishop’s evident relief couldn’t be missed.

It wasn’t relief for his daughter’s safety—the bastard.

“Well.” Bishop tugged at his tailored shirt. “I’m pleased to hear that she’s all right.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Disregarding Dare’s statement, Bishop forged on. “She obviously can’t come back home.”

“Home?” Dare inquired.

“To Ohio.”

His eyes narrowed. “To where you live, you mean?”

As if justified, Bishop said, “There would be a ghastly scandal. The media would have a field day if they got wind of this, and knowing Molly, she won’t even attempt to keep it quiet.”

“You would expect her to?”

His chin shot up. “For the sake of her family, and to protect our good name, of course that’s what I expect.”

“She didn’t ask to be taken, you know.”

“Maybe not in so many words.” Bishop curled his lip in disdain and distaste. “But still …”

Wishing he could demolish the smaller man, Dare asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s my daughter. Of course I care about her well-being. But odds are she brought this on herself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dare had seen some hideous people in his time, but Molly’s father beat them all.

“With that filth she writes and the way she—”

As Dare stiffened in fury, Bishop trailed off.

Through his teeth, Dare gritted out, “It is not her fault.”

“This is absurd.” Bishop dismissed the topic with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to continue this conversation with you. I don’t even know your name.”

Straightening to his full height, Dare glared down at him. “But I know yours, Bishop. And if I find out you had anything to do with Molly’s abduction, I’ll damn well take you apart, piece by piece.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re threatening me?”

Bishop obviously couldn’t believe such a notion.

“I’m explaining the facts to you.”

Umbrage stiffened the older man’s spine. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

As he turned away, Dare said, “Fact number one is that Molly is coming home.”

That stalled Bishop in his tracks.

“She needs to know who did this to her. And so do I. The best way to find that out is to confront people.”

“That’s outrageous! Good God, man, you don’t brag about it when you’ve been defiled. You show some common decency and you cover it up.”

“Fact number two,” Dare said, speaking over Bishop’s protestations, “is that Molly isn’t going to hide anything—but you are.”

He bristled at the order. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it you think I need to hide?”

“That we’ve met, that you know Molly is safe with me and that I’m hunting for the one responsible. You aren’t going to say a word about this to anyone. No one is to know about Molly, not until she or I tell them.”

Bishop narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Dare’s chest. “You do not dictate to me.”

“Yeah, I do.” Dare stepped closer until that rigid finger touched him. Bishop jerked his hand away and retreated, but Dare didn’t allow that.

He caught Molly’s father by the front of his shirt. “Because, Bishop, fact number three is that you don’t want to be on my bad side. I can destroy you. I will destroy you if you cross me on this.”

Squirming to get free, Bishop feigned courage that he didn’t possess. “You don’t know who you’re talking to. I am not a man you can bully.”

“That’s a claim I can put to you, Bishop.” Dare knew the slow show of his teeth looked like pure evil. “I have contacts in businesses that you can’t even imagine. I have friends in high places, and better friends in low places. No matter what you do or where you crawl away to, I have ways of getting to you. Cross me, and I will obliterate you, Bishop, socially, financially and personally.”

Teeth gritted, Bishop tried to knock Dare’s hand away, but couldn’t. “Just who the hell are you?”

“I’m the person who knows all about you.” He dragged him closer, up onto his tiptoes until their noses almost touched. “I know about your summer house, and your apartment in the city. I have access to your various accounts, a detailed record of your worth and a list of all your business acquaintances.”

Breathless, fearful, Bishop whispered, “You’re bluffing.”

“I don’t waste time bluffing.” Digging up info on Bishop Alexander had been insanely easy for Trace. “I know you’re cheating on your wife and on your girlfriend. You’re considering an offer to sell part of your company, without telling any of the shareholders. You have a dental appointment in two days, and you just bet two grand on the outcome of your golf game.”

Bishop went pale, gasping like a fish out of water. “How …?”

“Even better, you don’t know jack shit about me, do you? Where I live, how I get my info, when I’ll be back … or if you’ll see me when I do return.” After that ominous threat, Dare released him with a small shove. “I don’t like you, Bishop. You’re a shitty father, a cheating husband and an unscrupulous businessman.”

“I … I …”

Dare shook his head. “Save your breath. I don’t care about your excuses or justifications. Just know this—I want answers, and they better be truthful.”

“But …” With a fleeting look around, Bishop appealed to Dare. “We can’t stay here. People are starting to take notice of us.”

Like he gave a shit? Being around Bishop soured his stomach and quadrupled his sympathy for Molly.

“Believe me, I don’t want to extend this visit any longer than I have to.” In fact, he was damned anxious to start the drive back to see Molly. He’d wasted a good portion of the day waiting for Bishop to finish his game, and he still had a little more surveillance to do. Hell, by the time he finished, it’d be late, much later than he’d first intended.

He glanced at his watch. Was Molly lonely? Worried? Without him there, would she have another episode of near panic? He’d have to check in with Chris…. No.

Never before had he been a person to fret, and he damn well wasn’t going to start now. Molly was a strong woman, and she was in good hands with Chris. If anything had happened, Chris would have called.

The glare he put on Bishop had the man swallowing hard. “This will take less than five minutes,” Dare told him, “as long as you’re straight with me. If not … well, then, we can be here all fucking day.”

“Fine.” Trying to regain his aplomb, Bishop rested a hip on the hood of Dare’s SUV and attempted a cavalier pose. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

That Bishop kept trying to take charge should have sent Dare’s temper to the breaking point; instead it reinforced just how obnoxious and pretentious the man was.

How the hell did Molly stand him? Had she gained her incredible willpower through necessity, from dealing with such a cold, uncaring father? Dare thought of her mother’s suicide, and how Molly’s life must’ve been after that loss.

Molly’s choices had been to be strong, or take the same path as one of her parents. She’d chosen strength.

And damn, he admired her as much as he wanted her.

“You had questions?” Bishop prompted.

Shaking off his distraction, Dare said, “Molly’s boyfriend. What do you know of him?”

“Who?” Looking genuinely perplexed, Bishop asked, “Do you mean Adrian?”

Unwilling to give Bishop any guidance, Dare didn’t reply.

His silence impelled Bishop to continue. “They’re not together anymore, which is a shame, but to my knowledge that’s the last man she dated.” Bishop pretended to give it some thought.

Dare wasn’t fooled. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“I don’t know that much about him. He seemed pleasant enough. Successful.” Bishop shrugged. “He owns property, his own business.”

“He owns a bar, but he’s hocked up to his eyebrows—and you’d know that, too, Bishop. No way in hell would you have let your daughter date anyone without doing a background check. You’re too protective of your own interests to risk letting anyone seedy in the door.”

Provoked, Bishop snapped, “If you already knew, then why are you bothering me?”

“Judging your honesty—and so far you’re failing.”

Taking that as a threat, Bishop rushed to say, “Fine. He was a graspy little worm who no doubt dated Molly for my money. But I wasn’t worried.”

“Because even Molly won’t see a dime?”

In his own defense, Bishop said, “She does well enough for herself.”

But she hadn’t always. When she was a little girl with hopes and dreams, all she’d had was Bishop, and it broke Dare’s fucking heart. “You’re talking about the writing career that you scorn?”

“I did not raise her to indulge in vulgar means of entertainment.”

From what Dare could tell, Bishop hadn’t really raised her at all. “Like whoring, cheating and gambling, you mean?” Those were Bishop’s sins, and they had not been passed on to the daughter.

Umbrage darkened Bishop’s complexion. “Are we through here?”

Dare shook his head. “Tell me about Natalie.”

“What do you want to know?”

That Bishop didn’t even make a pretense of trying to protect his youngest daughter didn’t surprise Dare. The man would guard his own interests first and foremost. “Where is she?”

“At this moment? I have no idea. She teaches, so she’s likely home by now. Probably grading papers or some related tedious task.” He caught Dare’s impatience and rushed on to say, “If you’re asking me where she lives, then you’ll find her in an apartment complex not far from Molly. The two of them have always been thick as thieves. For as long as I can remember, if one of them lied, the other one swore to it.”

If they had lied, Dare would bet it was to protect one another. “And your wife?”

Bishop shrugged. “At this particular moment, Mrs. Alexander would be presenting a grant to the Historical Society in Cincinnati.” He waved a hand. “She’s very into her little clubs and charitable affairs.”

So far, Bishop was the sole unscrupulous family member. Not that Dare was done digging. “When did you realize that Molly was missing?”

“When you trapped me here. Before that, I had no idea. My daughter and I don’t keep track of each other’s social calendars.”

“Bullshit. You knew.”

“I knew she was out of touch. I knew she was likely annoyed at me and therefore not returning her stepmother’s calls. But she travels without alerting me, and she’s always been independent.”

Because she’d had no choice. “Didn’t Natalie notice?”

Bishop looked at his nails. “Natalie did call me, concerned, but I had nothing to tell her, and neither did Kathi. I haven’t heard from her since, so I assume she came to the same conclusion that I did, that Molly was off on business with her book contracts.”

“Or the movie deal?”

Blank-faced, Bishop asked, “What movie deal?”

Huh. So he really didn’t know about that. Dare had already determined that the man was a lousy liar; if he’d known, he couldn’t have hidden it.

“I’ll be in touch, Bishop.” Dare wasn’t about to share Molly’s news. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him herself. “When Molly calls you, you fucking well better answer. I don’t care what you have going on. Understood?”

“Does this mean we’re done?”

“For now, yes.” Dare smiled again. “Don’t forget what I told you, Bishop. This never happened. Tell a single soul, and you’ll regret it.” Stepping around his SUV, Dare opened the driver’s door and started to get inside.

For a second or two, Bishop stood there, unsure what to do. Finally he hissed low, “Why the hell are you even involved in all of this?”

And Dare couldn’t resist. He knew it was a mistake, knew he was acting out of character, that if he was truly in control he’d stick with the plan and drive away.

But he couldn’t.

Slowly he closed the door and came back toward Bishop.

Sensing that he’d erred, Bishop tried to backpedal, but he wasn’t fast enough. Dare grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

The older man screeched when Dare slammed him up against the hood of his car. “You try my patience, Bishop. That’s a very dangerous thing to do. Don’t let it happen again.”

With that warning, Dare shoved Bishop from him, forcing him to stumble before he gathered his composure and staggered away, taking his temper out on the valet who had yet to retrieve his car.

Dare had learned more than enough, for now. He got in the SUV, put it in gear and drove out of the club’s lot. Rage continued to simmer inside him, making him clench his jaw and lock his teeth. He wanted to see Molly. He wanted to hold her and tell her how sorry he was for her lot in life.

Just as he cleared the gates, his cell phone rang.

Thinking it might be Chris with news of Molly, he snapped the phone open on the first ring. “Yeah?”

In a tone far too grim, Trace said, “I have some info you’ll want to see.”

Damn. Dare glanced at the time on the console. “I was just heading home.” And for once, seeing his girls took second place. He wanted to check on Molly. And more. But the way Trace had worded that, Dare knew he had some photos. “They’re important?”

“You’ll want to see them ASAP, yeah. I can upload them to you, or I can meet you somewhere along I-75.”

“Let’s meet. I’d like to get your take on things anyway.” Knowing Trace, the photos would be telling. Anything that’d make it easier for Dare to ensure Molly’s safety was a priority. “Say in forty minutes?”

“That’ll work.”

After they agreed on a restaurant that catered to truckers, Dare asked, “How’s Alani?”

“Throwing herself into her work. I wanted her to take some time off, to chill with me, but she said that’d be the worst thing to do.”

Dare grinned. Thanks to Trace’s financial backing and business influence, Alani owned an interior-design business, so she could easily set her hours to be as busy or as idle as she wanted. “You hoped to hover over her and instead she’s out and about with strangers.”

Voice going lower, Trace growled, “She’s remodeling for some asshole businessman.”

Given what Alani had just been through, Dare understood his friend’s need to shelter her. But while Alani might look delicate with her fair hair and slim build, she had the same strength of character as her brother. “I suppose you already started a background check on him?”

“First thing I did—against Alani’s protests. So far he’s come out clean enough. He’s a financier. His family is old money, and I don’t like him.”

“Because he’s rich?” Dare laughed. “Hate to break it to you, but most would consider us rich, too.”

“We worked our asses off for our money.”

True, but not really the point. “Alani has always had every advantage, and she’s still grounded.” Being eight years older than Alani, Trace had ensured that she wanted for nothing, and yet she remained sweet and unspoiled.

And if it was old money Trace objected to, well, hell, Molly’s father was well pedigreed, but she was the least overindulged person he knew.

Trace sighed. “Plain and simple, I don’t like him, okay? I don’t know him, but I still don’t like him.”

“Right now, you’re not going to like anyone who’s around her.” Odds were it’d take Trace longer to recuperate from the ordeal than it would Alani, because Trace also had guilt working on him. “But she’s only remodeling for this guy, right? It’s not a personal relationship.”

“You know what Alani looks like. Do you really think the guy—who’s single, damn him—will want to keep it strictly business?”

Trace had a point. The combo of fair hair and golden-brown eyes was remarkable on Trace; on Alani, coupled with her figure and sweet sex appeal, most guys wouldn’t be able to resist hitting on her. “Want me to talk to him?”

“God, no. Alani would pulverize us both. I’ll keep an eye on the situation.”

Dare grinned again. “If you need backup, let me know.”

After disconnecting the call, Dare let his thoughts meander back to Molly. It was odd that she affected him so profoundly. Not once, ever, had he gotten emotionally involved with a woman. He enjoyed socializing and sex, but that’s where it had always ended.

With his career choice, anything more was absurd, because he knew, deep down to the marrow of his bones, a relationship would never work. Not only did he spend too much time away, but the job made secrecy necessary. Add to that the level of danger often involved, and it wouldn’t make sense to let a woman get too close.

Before Molly, that reality had set fine with him.

Now … now he found himself wondering about impossible things. He found himself thinking longer term. He wasn’t the kind of man who could commit to a lifetime, but a month? Two months? The idea of having her around, getting his fill of her, tantalized him.

But she’d need time to recover from her trauma, and he had no idea how long that might take, or how long she’d tolerate his intrusion into her life.

If he was able to nail her father for the sin of her abduction, where would that leave them? Once Molly knew the culprit, she could get on with her life without fear of another threat—and she’d no longer need Dare around.

Driving down the highway by rote, his reflexes on autopilot, Dare let himself examine every possible scenario. He was damned good at what he did, and he had a hell of a lot of resources at hand. Through the years, he and Trace had built up contacts in the government, the military and within all the highest-profile businesses.

Bishop Alexander thought he possessed power; in truth, he had no idea what real power could do.

No matter how Dare looked at it, his time with Molly would be short-lived. Yes, she was a complication to his life, but now … now he rather liked the way she complicated things.

Somehow he’d have to figure out a way to solve her dilemma and still give himself the time he needed to indulge his every carnal urge.

And with Molly, the carnal urges were plenty.