knew this booby trap had been set by one of his gang buddies. Even if this alias thing was entirely innocent, he’d still lied. She fisted her trembling hands. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you can take yourself off my project or I can have you fired. You decide.”
TWO
I’m not going anywhere. Rick rammed his fist into the punching bag slung from the rafters of his garage. Outside, rain hammered the metal roof. The lone window offered nothing but a meager shaft of light to see by. Kind of like how he felt about this job.
Rick dropped his head against the punching bag and let the memories resurface—his partner’s wife and daughter huddled outside the burning building, their soot-blackened clothes plastered to their bodies by the relentless rain, their eyes fixed on the door, waiting, praying Tom would stumble out with the adopted grandma he’d run back in to save. Rick pictured the tear-streaked face of Tom’s little girl as she reached for her daddy’s casket; he slammed the punching bag again. He couldn’t bow out. Not now, not ever. Not when guys like Laud didn’t care who they sacrificed.
The side door burst open.
Rick whirled around, fists raised.
“Whoa.” Fellow cop Zach Davis held up his hands. “What’s got you riled?”
“Nothing.” Rick snatched his towel from the workbench and dried his face.
Rain dripped from Zach’s ball cap onto an already drenched T-shirt. He lifted the cap off his head and swatted it against his jeans. “Try again.”
Rick balled the towel and tossed it at Zach’s head.
Laughing, Zach snagged the towel with one hand and caught Rick’s wrist in the other, exposing his swollen knuckles. “Woman troubles?”
Rick shoved off his hold. They’d worked together on and off for too many years to hide the truth. He pulled a couple of root beers from the minifridge and handed one to Zach. “I saw Ginny today.”
“The Ginny?”
“Yeah.” Condensation pooled on the can and dripped through Rick’s fingers. “The Ginny.”
“Let me guess. She met Duke.”
Hearing his buddy say it aloud added another hundred pounds to the weight already crushing him. If he nailed Laud before the group home was finished, the publicity storm would squelch the project. Ginny would be devastated, possibly implicated.
“Why don’t you come clean? It’s not like the case you’re on now puts her life in danger.”
“You of all people should know why,” Rick snapped, and immediately regretted it. He had enough to worry about without going back to that dark place. Zach alone knew the emotional hits he’d taken, but that didn’t mean Rick wanted to talk about them. Ever.
“You can’t live the rest of your life as if you have a bull’s-eye painted on your back, afraid anyone who gets too close will get caught in the spray.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Rick growled.
“What’s complicated? You obviously still love the woman. Tell her the truth.”
Rick pulled the tab on his can and took a long drink. The icy liquid pricked at his throat, like the vague sense of foreboding that pricked at his conscience. “Laud’s her uncle.”
The way Zach’s jaw slackened would’ve been funny if Rick hadn’t felt so miserable. Just being around Ginny for a few minutes, and as angry as she’d been with him, had stirred up all his longings. And regrets.
“When did you find out?”
“I knew all along.”
“Have you lost your mind? Does Drake know? I can’t believe the captain let you go in on this one. You had to know you’d run into her.”
“This conversation is between you and me. Got it? When Ginny and I dated, she claimed she rarely saw her uncle. Her connection shouldn’t have been an issue.”
“What is Ginny’s connection, exactly?”
“She’s the new PR person. In charge of fundraising.”
Zach pushed his fingers through his hair, then slapped on his ball cap. “Oh, man, you’re cooked. Pull out before the entire operation—and your cover—go up in flames.”
“I can’t. I’m here to put Laud out of business. A few days ago, I overheard a guy put the squeeze on him for fifty grand. The accent sounded Russian. If Laud owes the Russian mob that kind of cash, it’s only a matter of time before he torches another property.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Someone sabotaged the construction site last night. Laud has to be getting desperate. His last project soared into six-digit overruns. He can’t keep starting new projects to finance unfinished ones. He intends to use this one to cash in. I can feel it. It’s the perfect setup. Skim money from the grants and donations to keep his creditors off his back. Then torch the place for the insurance before anyone catches on.”
“Perfect, except for one thing.”
“Yeah.” Rick’s breath seeped from his chest. “Ginny.”
“She’s bound to tell Laud you’re using an alias.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said, not thrilled with the plan but liking it better than the alternative. “I’ll admit I’ve had some run-ins with the law. That nugget should convince Laud I’m corruptible enough to hire to torch one of his buildings. Then I’ll have him.” Rick shook the tension from his shoulders. Yeah, this could work.
“What if you’re wrong? What if Ginny is part of the family business?”
“She’s not.” Rick crushed the soda can in his hand. That kind of innuendo was precisely why he wouldn’t let this assignment fall to someone else. He had to protect Ginny. He owed her that much.
Rick rubbed his still-sore ribs. He’d do whatever it took to convince her he was her best hope of getting this project built. With a saboteur on the prowl, more than her reputation was at risk.
“Consider this, my friend. If you nail her uncle, who do you think she’ll blame?”
“Me. I know.” Rick had no illusions about that. “Just like I know that when this case is over, we’re over.”
Laud switched off his bedroom lights, pressed his back to the wall and nudged aside the curtain. He hated coincidences—like the silver Ford Escort that started tailing him within hours of his visit to the insurance company.
Bad enough the insurance buffoons wouldn’t pay up on the townhouse fire. Further investigation, they claimed. Sure. Now this.
He let the curtain slip into place.
He swiped the back of his hand across his moist brow and stared at the overnight bag he’d dumped on his bed.
