she whispered.
“To take you into protective custody.”
Chapter 3
“Protective custody!”
Stunned, Lauren gaped at the man staring down at her.
“Why?” she asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few minutes.
“Because you’re our only link to David Jannisek.”
Becky’s latest love. The man she just might be serious about. With a shake of her head, Lauren tried to grasp what the heck this was all about.
“Why do you want to find Jannisek?”
His face seemed to get tighter around the edges. “You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
Henderson’s eyes went ice cold. Lauren could feel the chill from where she stood.
“Your boyfriend has had a run of bad luck at the track recently. Our sources tell us he owes his bookie more than five hundred.”
“Five hundred dollars?”
“Try five hundred grand.”
“Good God!”
Was that why Becky needed time to think things through? She’d fallen for a loser—just as her sister had? If so, Lauren ached for her. She could speak firsthand to that painful experience.
“He liquidated every asset he owned,” Henderson continued, wrenching her attention back to him. “Didn’t you wonder what happened to his Jag?”
Or didn’t you care? his expression seemed to imply. His gaze flicked to Lauren’s lapel once again, telegraphing an unmistakably cynical message.
“Your boyfriend blew the last of his credit on that little bauble. The store clerk said Jannisek told him to spread the cost of it over three separate charge cards, all of which maxed out.”
Lauren felt herself squirming on Becky’s behalf. Her sister didn’t have a greedy bone in her body, but there was no denying she was careless about finances—her own and everyone else’s. She never hesitated to hit Lauren up for a loan. And she’d apparently walked out of her house without her checkbook and credit cards! She probably didn’t have a clue that her latest love interest was up to his neck in financial hot water.
“Is that why you’re after him?” Lauren asked, still trying to comprehend this bizarre situation. “Because of what he owes?”
“I don’t care what he owes. It’s who he owes it to that I’m interested in.”
From the set of Henderson’s mouth, Lauren had the feeling that matters were about to go from bad to worse for David Jannisek—and, by extension, for her sister. Digging her fists into her jacket pockets, she braced herself.
“All right. Lay it on me. Who does he owe it to?”
“The man we suspect of controlling organized crime in the Southwest.”
“Organized crime?” Her jaw dropped. “You mean, like, the mafia?”
“The modern-day version of it.”
She was still reeling from that when he closed the distance between them, his boot heels thudding softly on the wooden floor.
Lauren took an instinctive step back. From across the room, Marsh Henderson projected a sizzling masculinity. Up close and personal, he was just a little bit intimidating.
Okay, more than a little. Except…
He hadn’t felt intimidating when she’d plowed into him in the backyard. For a few moments there, he’d felt strong and solid and safe.
“That’s the man I want,” he told her, his deep voice resonating with an intensity that raised goose bumps on her arms. “The mob boss. And you’re going to help me nail him, Becky.”
“How?”
“By letting me tuck you away in a nice, safe place. If Jannisek’s half as much in love with you as everyone says he is, he’ll come looking for you.”
“In other words,” she said slowly, incredulously, “you want to set a trap?”
“Yes.”
“With…with me as bait?”
“Yes.”
The blunt admission ignited a little curl of anger deep in Lauren’s chest. It hadn’t taken this tough-edged cop long to show his stripes. He didn’t care about her sister. Didn’t care about David Jannisek. All he wanted was to bring down this shadowy mobster. So much for solid and safe!
“And when Jannisek comes looking for the woman he supposedly loves,” she ground out, “he’ll find you instead.”
“That’s the plan.”
“At which point, you’ll convince him to identify the man you say he owes so much money to.” Her nails dug into her palms. “What if he doesn’t want to cooperate?”
“As I see it, he doesn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter. He’ll either cooperate, or spend the rest of his life dodging bullets.”
Shocked, Lauren took a step back. Henderson followed, relentless.
“That shook you up, didn’t it? To have the police show up at your door and inform you that Jannisek missed taking a clip full of bullets by a few turns of a car wheel?”
“I… I didn’t…”
He crowded in closer. “He’d just dropped you off, hadn’t he? A minute or two earlier, and you could have been sitting beside him when the bullets started flying. No wonder you skipped town for a few days.”
Oh, God! This was worse, so much worse, than Lauren had imagined. Poor Becky. She must be scared to death. It was time to set the record straight.
“Look, Henderson…”
“Marsh,” he corrected with a tight smile. “If we’re going to spend the foreseeable future in close proximity, we might as well get comfortable with each other.”
“We won’t be spending the future in any kind of proximity. You’ve made a mistake. I’m not Becky Smith.”
He went still. Completely still. The air around them took on a charged tension. The seconds ticked by while Lauren’s nerves stretched wire thin.
“The hell you’re not,” he growled at last.
“I’m her sister. Lauren Smith.”
Those incredible blue eyes narrowed to slits, dropped lower, settled on the diamond unicorn. When they lifted again, Lauren read scorn and flat
