was all he could come up with? “Being a jerk doesn’t make him dangerous.”
“It doesn’t make him safe, either.”
“You’re going to have to tell me more than that to persuade me he poses any threat.”
The muscles along his jaw tightened, and she could hear his teeth grinding. After a few seconds, he released his death grip on the steering wheel. “This goes no further than this vehicle, all right?” he said.
She nodded. “All right.”
“Last month, right after your sister disappeared, we broke up an illegal marijuana-growing operation and human-trafficking ring. The guy in charge had once worked for Prentice, though he swore they had no connection now. We think Prentice was overseeing the operation, but we couldn’t prove it. Then, shortly after that, a pilot was murdered after he flew a weapon that had been stolen from the US military onto public land near Prentice’s place.”
“A weapon?”
“I can’t elaborate, but Prentice had links to that, too. Again, we didn’t have any proof to tie him directly, but if we’re right and he’s behind these crimes, we’re talking about somebody who’s proven he won’t let anything—or anyone—stop him from getting his way.”
“Now you’re just trying to frighten me.” The tactic was working, too, though she’d never admit it to him.
“You’re right. I am trying to frighten you out of meeting with this guy I don’t trust as far as I could throw him.”
“If I make sure he’s aware that other people—the task force—knows I’m meeting him, he won’t try anything,” she said. “Right?”
Instead of confirming her evaluation of the situation, he leaned forward and switched on his emergency flashers. “Did he say he knew something about your sister’s disappearance?” he asked.
“No. He just said he’d be happy to talk with me about Lauren. He acted like he knew her. I mean, he called her Lauren and said she was a lovely person.” The way he’d said it—“such a lovely person”—had been a little creepy, but that was probably just Rand’s dislike of the guy rubbing off on her.
“When are you supposed to meet with him?”
“Why do you need to know that? So you can crash the meeting and scare him off?” It would be just like him to charge in, his dog barking and lunging, ruining everything.
“I won’t scare him off. And I won’t crash the meeting. I’ll come as your escort.”
“You told me yourself he doesn’t like law officers. If you come along, he’ll clam up and won’t tell me anything.”
“We won’t tell him I’m a cop.”
“Then how do I explain this random guy who invited himself along?”
“Tell him I’m your boyfriend and I’m very jealous and overprotective.”
The words sent warmth flooding through her. Hormones again. It was getting pretty warm in this car. Maybe she should roll down the window. “That doesn’t say much about me, that I’d hang out with a jealous and overprotective guy,” she said.
“Just tell him I’m a friend.” His expression softened. “Please. I’ve got good instincts and I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
The “please” did it—that and the fact that she was beginning to have her own reservations about a private meeting with Richard Prentice. He was probably harmless, and he might not know anything about her sister, but she should cover all the bases by talking to him, and also staying safe. “All right. You can come with me. But you have to not act like a cop.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, no strong-arming the guy, or firing questions at him. Let me do the talking. And the dog has to stay behind.”
He glanced at Lotte, clearly torn. “Nothing says cop like a police dog,” she said.
“All right,” he said. “But if he makes a wrong move, I won’t keep quiet about it.”
She sighed. And she’d thought questioning Richard Prentice would be the hard part—he’d probably be a piece of cake compared to handling Rand Knightbridge.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Rand waited for Sophie in front of the duplex he rented in the south end of Montrose. Marco Cruz lived in the other half of the building, but he wasn’t home today to give Rand a hard time about being reduced to wearing civilian clothes and leaving his weapons and his dog behind, like an ordinary civilian. But, given Prentice’s animosity toward the Rangers, Rand’s only choice was to make this visit incognito.
Sophie had insisted on driving, too, though it had been Rand’s idea to have her pick him up at the duplex—just in case Prentice had someone watching Ranger headquarters. He wouldn’t put it past the man.
Her rented sedan turned the corner and glided into his drive. He jerked open the door and climbed in even before she came to a full stop. “Hello, Rand.” She lowered her sunglasses and looked him up and down.
“Do I pass the test?” he asked, buckling his seat belt. He’d dressed in khakis and a blue sports shirt with a subtle pinstripe. Nothing too fancy.
“You clean up nice, Officer.” A smile played across lips outlined in cherry red.
“I could say the same about you.” In addition to the red lipstick, she wore careful makeup that accented her big brown eyes and beautiful skin. Her hair was up, with tendrils curling around her temples. Her blue dress, of some silky material, clung in all the right places. She smelled good, too, like something expensive and exotic. She looked elegant and beautiful—the kind of woman who would appeal to a billionaire who could have anything, or anyone, he wanted.
He pushed the thought away. Sophie was too classy to go for a lowlife like Prentice. The man might have more money than kings, but money couldn’t buy morals. “Have you thought of what you’re going to say to him?” he asked as they headed out of town.
“I lay awake all night thinking about it. To start, I want to know how he knows Lauren, and when was the last time he talked to her. I’ll ask if he knows why she was in the area.”
“It’ll be interesting to find out if he really knows anything.”
The entrance to Prentice’s estate was unmarked by any sign but, unlike other properties in the area, featured a stone guardhouse set back thirty yards from the road and a heavy iron gate. A guard stepped out to meet them. Sophie lowered her window. “I’m Sophie Montgomery,” she said. “I have a meeting with Mr. Prentice.”
“Yes, Ms. Montgomery, we’ve been expecting you.” He nodded to Rand. “Who’s he?”
“This is my friend Jake Peters.” It was the name they’d agreed on, in case Prentice had a roster of the task force. Jacob was Rand’s middle name and Peters was his mother’s maiden name.
“Mr. Peters is not on
