Dangerous Kiss (19 page)

“Your silence does not bode well for your answer, Mr. Franklin.” Burlington tapped his foot impatiently. “Where are the needles?”

“In the car.” The big man kept his eyes on the floor.

Burlington pursed his lips and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. His jaw went rigid.

Jake’s spirits rose. Finally, something was going their way. If Burlington blew up at his bodyguard, Jake had to be ready to take advantage of the situation. He dropped Claire’s hand and moved a half step in front of her. His arms hung loose at his sides.

Burlington turned his gaze toward Jake and the hairs on his neck spiked. One false move and this would go south real quick. He had to get Claire out of here.

“Mr. Franklin, this type of negligence will not be tolerated. If you cannot improve yourself, you will not be accompanying Mrs. Burlington and me to South America. Get the needles now!” Red spots of frustration dotted his cheeks.

“Yes, sir.”

Without another word, the thug shuffled out into the parking lot.

Burlington swiveled the gun back to Claire. “My patience has grown thin, Ms. Layton. Put the phone and the flash drive on the table.”

Claire hurled the devices at their tormentor. They flew by Burlington’s head, missing him by at least a foot, and bounced off a round dining table.

Quick as a snake, Burlington fired a bullet into the hardwood floor. The wood cracked beside her feet.

Claire screamed as she jumped into the air.

Fear grabbed Jake’s heart and squeezed. Her scream vibrated inside his head. Panicked, he shoved her shaking body behind him, primed to launch himself at Burlington.

“You look quite savage, Mr. Warrick. I suggest you not act out the violent fantasy playing in your head.” He cocked the gun. “As for you, Ms. Layton, if you knew the women in my life, you would know that I am quite practiced at dodging missiles.” He shrugged his shoulders as if the entire situation was all too common for him. “Take a seat, both of you.”

Clair huffed behind him and flopped down into a chair. “Bastard.”

Jake eased into the seat next to her, on the lookout for an opportunity to at least get her out of here. He didn’t mind taking his chances, but he wouldn’t risk her life for a bit of evidence.

Franklin trotted back in, his face flushed. The goon must not be used to running in the summer heat. Either that or his head still ached from the omelet pan Jake had cracked against the big man’s skull.

The giant clasped a small envelope-sized black case in one gargantuan fist. “The needles.”

“Put the needles on the table, Mr. Franklin, then go stand next to Ms. Layton. We don’t want Mr. Warrick to forget what is at stake here.”

Claire flinched when Franklin moved beside her, cigar smoke and sweat floating like an invisible cloud around him. The asshole chuckled.

Shame and anger boiled in Jake’s veins. Some fucking protector he’d turned out to be. How could he let her down like this? They were stuck between a breathing rock and Burlington’s Smith and Wesson.

Burlington reached into his pocket with his free hand and drew out two zip-ties.

“Shit,” Clair said under her breath.

“There is no need to whisper, Ms. Layton. I am rather impressed with these pragmatic items.” His lips twisted in wry amusement. “I admire its unassuming efficiency. Too often my colleagues get wrapped up in convoluted schemes to defraud their clients, showy actions that land them in jail. Simplicity is the key to a successful scheme. Whether it is little old ladies, pension managers or small-town police officers, give them a plausible and easily understood explanation for cash losses and they will accept it.”

Fuck. Sweat slid down Jake’s spine as dread solidified in his belly. Burlington had no plans to leave them tied up while he split.

“Ah, I see understanding dawning in your eyes, Mr. Warrick. When you quit, the answer to why was obvious. You had the flash drive and were planning to use the information to access the three million dollars yourself. No one walks away with my money. No one.”

“That’s not true, not everyone is as big of a crook as you are. Anyway, the flash drive is incidental, worthless to anyone but you.” If Jake could keep Burlington talking, he could increase their chances for survival.

“That is where you are woefully ignorant. The Cayman Islands bank account codes on the flash drive will give anyone access to my funds.” Burlington shrugged his shoulders.

“The money you stole from the little old ladies and pension funds?” Claire’s soft words hung heavy in the air.

He marveled at the innocent curiosity in her voice. She might not know his plan’s details, but she played along as if she never doubted it would work.

“Of course not.” Burlington’s voice rose an octave. His jaw tightened and he took a menacing step forward. Then, as if recalling himself, he released a quick breath and smoothed his expression into a mask of superiority. “Stealing is a repugnant activity. I paid myself a bonus percentage of the market profits they wouldn’t have gotten without me.”

“That’s a one-way ticket to prison.” Jake would enjoy seeing this weasel in an orange jumpsuit.

“Only if the police find out about it, which is why Kendall had to be silenced.” He jerked his head in a firm nod.

“She was blackmailing you.” The pieces came together in Jake’s head. The money manager had been adamant the phone not fall into anyone’s hands but his.

“Yes.” Burlington shook his head. “It is extremely distasteful to discover the child you reared and sent to the finest boarding schools would stoop to something as low-class as extortion.” Burlington sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “She had extraordinary technical skills and hacked into my accounts. She downloaded everything she needed to try to bleed me dry.”

“That’s why you let Darcy kill her?” Jake asked.

The zip-ties rested in Burlington’s hand. The gun pointed to the floor. Burlington was caught up in telling his tale.

“Termination was not a part of the original plan, but there is little in this world that Mr. Darcy cannot mess up. We had hoped Kendall would give him the flash drive and phone as she had promised him. Then, Mr. Franklin would take care of him and return the items to me. Neither of us realized just how far Mr. Darcy’s methamphetamine paranoia had progressed.”

If Jake took a run at Burlington, Franklin would try to save his boss, leaving Claire free to escape. As far as plans went, it wasn’t a great one. But he didn’t have time to come up with anything better. They needed to act now.

He straightened up in his seat, adrenaline pumped through his body. He doubted he’d make it out alive, but he’d go down saving her. A fair trade.

He forced his breathing to slow. Kept his sights on Burlington. Tracked Franklin out of the corner of his eye. His body was primed and ready to take action.

“It was a simple plan. The only difficulty was keeping the truth from my wife, who I doubt would be pleased, even if it
was
necessary. Charlotte is more than my wife; she is my partner, my soul mate. Why, just thinking of her makes me anxious to move forward with this endeavor so we can be together again on the beaches of Brazil, enjoying our millions.” He took a step forward. “Mr. Franklin, if you will be so kind as to restrain Ms. Layton. I do believe Mr. Warrick will be more cooperative if his lady love is…how shall I put it…effectively detained.”

Claire gasped and dropped Jake’s hand, drawing his attention away from Burlington. In the dim light, he couldn’t make out her features exactly, but he didn’t need to. The image of her storming into Harvest’s bar a few days ago, her temper running at full steam, was enough.

He hadn’t come to Dry Creek looking for the woman of his dreams, but he’d found her anyway. A redheaded firecracker with a smart mouth, a fast brain and a body that had him praying for X-ray vision. If he died saving her, she needed to understand the sacrifice was worth it to him. Grasping her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers.

A powerful hand pulled against his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh, but Jake refused to be torn away from Claire.

“No, Mr. Franklin, let us allow them this moment. Our social mores demand that every condemned person be granted one last request. This is theirs.”

Burlington’s words danced on the edge of Jake’s consciousness. His focus centered on Claire. He put everything he wanted to say into that kiss. From the moment he’d tapped her on the nose, he knew he’d never be the same. He’d been bewitched by her fiery hair and luscious curves. She’d captivated him with her stubbornness and passion. Her sarcastic, quick wit had mesmerized him. She was his warrior pixie.

“I love you, Claire Layton.”

Her dazed look sharpened. It morphed from understanding to horror.

In one fluid movement, he stood and jammed a finger into Franklin’s eye socket.

The big man howled in pain and slapped his hand over the injured orb. Jake whipped around, pulling Claire up. “Run.”

She hesitated. Fearing she’d die by his side, he swung her by the arm and catapulted her past Burlington.

Burlington’s head snapped around, following Claire.

Ready to inflict serious damage, Jake barreled toward Burlington.

C
laire inhaled heaven.

Granny Marie’s apple strudel must have just come hot out of the oven. Its cinnamon scent permeated her bedroom. Exhaling, her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered in anticipation. In a few minutes it will have cooled enough to eat. This time she wouldn’t rush in to cut off a slice and burn her mouth on a steaming apple. For once, she could wait. Anyway, her toasty-warm bed was too comfortable to leave.

Rolling onto her back, she reached for the covers to snuggle deeper. Her heavy arms slid across her warm body. There were no covers, only her bare skin sticking to slick leather upholstery. The truth unfolded slowly. She wasn’t in bed. No. It must be the couch.

Had she fallen asleep in the living room and kicked off the blanket in the night? How had she ended up sleeping on the couch? Had she been watching a movie? Struggling to remember, her thoughts moved as if they were mired in honey.

A crackling, popping noise snapped in the distance. Why would Granny Marie be making popcorn for breakfast? It didn’t make sense, but Claire couldn’t grasp why. Everything seemed off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

As she stretched, a tingling sensation burned up both arms. Damn, she must have slept on her stomach with her arms trapped underneath her. She flexed her fingers, trying to increase circulation in her numb limbs.

Only half awake, Claire sniffed the air hoping for another burst of cinnamon apple. An unexpected richness snuck in with it. She wrinkled her nose. Olive oil. Why did she smell olive oil? Straining to open her eyes, confusion swamped her sleep-addled head.

A sudden tension coiled tight in her stomach. She needed to do something, but what? A glimmer of the truth lay just beyond her mind’s reach, but like a half-remembered dream, it floated in her subconscious, swaddled in a fog.

Again, she tried to pry her eyes open, but the lids were too heavy. Panic ratcheted up her heartbeat, her blood rushed in her ears. Something was wrong. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? Why was it so hard to move? She tried to call out for help. Her tongue, thick and heavy in her mouth, hampered her efforts and only a soft moan came out.

Struggling not to lapse back into a dazed state, she inhaled deeply.

Smoke invaded her lungs. Choked her. Coughs racked her body as her lungs gasped to inhale clean air.

The violent spasms jarred Claire fully awake. Her eyes snapped open. She couldn’t make sense of what she saw.

She was on the couch in Harvest’s break room.

Naked.

Jake lay nude at her feet.

Candles, so many candles, surrounded them, their wicks alive with fire. It looked like a romantic tryst gone desperately wrong, as if they’d passed out after making love.

An oily trail dotted the hardwood floor, leading to the room’s only exit. Smoke snuck in under the door in a skinny column of gray.

Everything came back to her. Jake had poked Franklin in the eye, thrust her toward the door and gone after Burlington. As he had struggled with Burlington, the goon recovered enough to rush Jake. All three had gone down. Unable to leave him like that, she’d run full throttle into the melee. They’d rolled in a ball of flailing arms and kicking feet, chairs and tables knocked over by the combatants.

In the middle of the brawl, a sharp object had pricked her leg. Ice had surged through her veins and her body had gone slack. Though her vision had turned hazy, she’d seen Burlington looming above her, a half-filled needle in his hand. She’d wanted to lash out at him, but couldn’t lift her arms or legs. Helpless, she had sunk into a sea of desperation.

Unable to move, she had stared up at the ceiling while the skirmish had gone on around her. Fighting the effects of the drug, she had turned her head in time to see Burlington plunge the needle into Jake’s shoulder. He’d reared back and roared before collapsing to the floor.

She’d wanted to reach out to Jake. Touch him. Brush his hand with hers. But the drug was too powerful. Her vision turned dark. Unable to move or see, only her hearing connected her to the world.

“The other vial broke when the table flipped over. Half a dose will have to do for them both, Mr. Franklin. Take them to the break room and strip them. Light the candles in there. You will start the fire with whatever is flammable on the premises. It is a restaurant; it should not be hard to find something that will do the job.” Burlington had paused, his footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor away from her and toward the backdoor. “This cannot look like arson at first blush, Mr. Franklin. Do not disappoint me in this. Oh, and one final thing…”

At that point, she had fallen completely into the void. Saw nothing. Heard nothing. Felt nothing. Until now.

Terror ripped through her. She had to wake up Jake. They had to get out. She sprang up. Too quickly. The room wavered before her. Afraid if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t get them open again, Claire concentrated on the doorknob. Silver. Round. It seemed so far away. She counted to twenty and tried to keep her breathing steady as smoke filtered in under the door.