Hot on Her Heels (3 page)

“None at all,” he said easily.

“Fair enough. But why us? What did we do to deserve your contempt?”

He didn't like the word
contempt.
It implied emotion, not rationality. “You were easy targets,” he said. “If I hurt you, I hurt Jed.”

“By now you must be aware that Jed doesn't give a damn about any of us. He's not much of a father.”

She said the words easily, but he heard the tight pain in her voice. She might have accepted the truth about her father, but it still had the power to wound.

Garth shrugged. “If it distracts him, that's enough for me.”

“No, it's not,” Izzy said. “Come on. You didn't mean for it to get this messy. That's not your style.”

Her assessment annoyed him—probably because it was true. “You don't know my style.”

“I can guess. You want a clean victory,” Izzy told him. “When you started this, you thought we were one happy family. Cut one and we all bleed. You thought you could weaken Jed by going after those he loved most. Which was quite the miscalculation, big brother. Feeling a little foolish now, are we?”

“No.” Foolish didn't exactly explain what emotions he'd experienced.

The ruthless side of him said that he should tell them the truth. That their father had come to him, offering him the chance to run Titan World on the condition that all three of Jed's daughters never get a penny.

But he didn't say the words. There was no reason to hurt them further. Jed would do that well enough without any help.

“We're not your enemy,” Skye said. “We don't want anything from you.” She glanced at Izzy, who was shaking her head, then sighed. “Izzy wants you to be part of the family, but that's different. We're not after power or money. We just want to live our lives in peace. Is it that you can't believe that, or you're in too deep to back off now?”

Before he could answer, Izzy moved from her sofa to his and sat next to him. She angled toward him and touched his arm.

“We're sorry about your mom. I don't understand how Jed could be so callous and cruel—which I guess are the same thing. Or maybe I do understand and it scares me. He's my father, too. Why does he have to be so bad?”

Garth didn't want to think about his mother or what had happened to her. He drew back. “This isn't going to work. I've made my decision. I know what I want and I'm going to get it.”

Izzy only smiled. “You can't. We're your family. Not Jed. He deserves what he's going to get, but not us. You know we're innocent. You know we don't deserve what you're doing to us. Every time you act against one of us, you're becoming more and more like Jed, and that's not who you are.”

He felt the truth of her statements but didn't say anything.

“You're pressuring him, Izzy,” Skye said. “You have to stop. Enough with the emotional blackmail. Let's deal with facts. If you didn't arrange the explosion on the oil rig, who did? Or was it an accident?”

Garth appreciated the change in topic. “The preliminary reports all suggest a man-made cause. Someone did it on purpose.”

“If not you, then who?” Skye asked.

“I'm working on that.”

“Why do you care?” Izzy asked.

“I'll take responsibility for what I did, nothing else.”

“With all you've been doing,” Skye said, “you're a likely suspect.”

He nodded. “I know, but it wasn't me. Explosions are too dangerous. There's no way to control all the outcomes. I always know the end game.”

“I don't suppose you'd take a lie detector test,” Skye said.

He chuckled. “No.” Although he would be open to intense questioning by Deputy Dana, he thought humorously. She intrigued him with her determination and irreverence.

“When you find out who was responsible, will you tell us?” Skye asked.

“Be careful what you ask for. You may not like the answer.”

She frowned. “Do you already know?”

“I suspect. There's a difference.”

Skye looked stricken, as if she had thought of something impossible to believe. “Will you tell us?” she asked again softly.

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“I'll tell you,” he said firmly.

She stood. “Then I guess we'll wait to hear.”

He and Izzy rose.

Izzy looked at him. “About the family thing. I'm not kidding. You're one of us now. Quit being mean.”

Then, before he could stop her, she wrapped both her arms around him, leaning against him. The embrace was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. He was used to having women in his arms, but this was different.

She released him, then stared into his eyes. Her mouth curved into a slight smile.

“Next time you're going to hug me back,” she whispered. “You need us, Garth. And we need you.” Then she raised herself on her toes and kissed his cheek. “It's going to be okay.”

As if she wanted to reassure him. But this was his game and he was winning. Didn't they get that?

Skye eyed him. “I'm not comfortable with the whole embracing thing just yet.”

“Not a problem.”

“I hope Izzy's right. I hope you are worth saving. We're about to find out.” She smiled. “You may not like the process.”

The women left.

He stared after them, wanting to call them back and say he wasn't worth saving. That they were ridiculous to waste their effort this way. At the same time, he had the strangest feeling that they had just won this round and that the unexpected victory had put him behind.

 

I
T WAS NEARLY NINE
that night when Garth rode the elevator from his condo building's parking garage. He was tired, not surprising after a nearly fifteen-hour day, but his weariness seemed to be deeper than usual. He'd brought home a briefcase full of work he had no intention of looking at and he was oddly reluctant to spend the evening by himself.

If he had to define his mood—something he rarely bothered doing—he would say he was lonely.

It wasn't as if he usually spent evenings playing poker with the guys, but lately the emptiness seemed more profound. Maybe it was because he'd lost his best friend. Or maybe all he needed was a drink and some TV time in front of a football game.

When the elevator stopped on the main floor, he got out and crossed to pick up his mail. On his way to the bank of locked boxes, he saw someone sitting in one of the overstuffed sofas. A familiar someone, watching him.

Dana Birch stood. “You're keeping late hours.”

She wasn't in uniform. Instead she wore jeans, a leather jacket and boots. Nothing stylish or upscale, yet the no-nonsense clothes suited her.

Garth swung his attention to George, the evening doorman for the building. The older man shifted uncomfortably.

“You, ah, have a visitor, Mr. Duncan.”

“So I see.”

Dana moved toward him. “Don't blame George. His nephew is a new recruit in the Titanville sheriff's office. I've helped him out a couple of times. George owes me.”

“Does he?”

Garth got his mail and tucked it under his arm. He had his briefcase in one hand and a bag of Chinese takeout in the other. “Why are you here?”

“Because you are.”

Not that he minded—Garth wasn't intimidated by a powerful woman. In fact, he found the challenge appealing. There was something about Dana's mouth, though. The fullness of the bottom lip, the slight curve at the corners. It spoke of sensuality and promise. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.

“Starting a fan club?” he asked.

“Not exactly. I've taken a leave of absence from work so I can follow you. I'll be on your ass until I figure out who and what you are.”

“You already know who I am.”

“Not really. Izzy thinks you're brother material. Skye and Lexi aren't so sure.”

An unexpected twist. “You're the deciding vote?”

She smiled. “I'm here to test your character. Think of me as a trial by fire.”

He would give the Titan sisters points for creativity. “You don't scare me, Dana.”

“Give it time.”

He chuckled and held up the bag of takeout. “You hungry? I have enough for two.”

“Lucky me.”

“Is that a yes?”

She paused for a second, before grabbing the bag. “Sure. Why not?”

They walked toward the elevator.

As they passed the main desk, George gave him a thumbs-up. Garth bit back a laugh. Given the fact that
Dana was both prickly and determined to see the worst in him, the odds of him getting lucky that night seemed close to zero. But he was a man who enjoyed a good challenge.

T
HEY RODE THE ELEVATOR
in silence. Dana hadn't realized she was hungry until she inhaled the scent of the takeout and her stomach growled. Just as disconcerting was her awareness of the man standing next to her. Garth hadn't bothered to look even slightly concerned about her showing up for the second time in two days. Why couldn't he at least pretend to be nervous?

They exited on the top floor and she followed him to his penthouse. He unlocked the door, then waited for her to go first.

She walked into the dark space. Seconds later Garth flipped on lights.

Yesterday morning she'd been more interested in the man than his home and hadn't noticed much beyond the open floor plan and killer view. Now she ignored the display of city lights and instead concentrated on the surroundings.

The condo had been built in a loft style, with a huge open room. The living area was in front, a dining area to the right. A half wall separated a restaurant-sized kitchen with sleek cabinets and gleaming granite from
the rest of the room. The furniture was large, the colors subdued and masculine, the carpeting plush. The space looked expensive and comfortable, a rare combination.

“You had a good decorator,” she said.

Garth tossed his leather briefcase and mail onto a table by the door and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Thanks. He did a nice job.”

“Not a woman? Color me surprised.”

“I appreciate talent in either gender.”

“Aren't you Mr. Open-minded?”

He came up beside her and pointed to the large, wood dining room table. “Shall we?”

She walked to the table and set down the bag. He crossed to a built-in wine cellar tucked in the wet bar between the dining and living rooms.

“Wine?” he asked. “Or are you on duty?”

“Wine is fine.”

He returned with two glasses and a bottle of red. Dana didn't recognize the label, which wasn't a huge surprise. She was more of a beer drinker.

“Plates are in the kitchen,” he said, walking to a buffet, opening a drawer and pulling out a corkscrew.

She walked into the big kitchen and hit the lights. There was counter space for twenty, double sinks, double ovens and a warming drawer.

“Your caterer must love working here. All you need are minions.”

“I have minions. It's their night off.”

She turned away so he couldn't see her smile, then opened cupboards until she found plates. The flatware was in the drawer below. After grabbing a couple of paper towels for napkins, she returned to the dining room.

He'd put the now-full wineglasses at one end of the table, across from each other. While she set out the plates, he put containers of Chinese food in front of them.

“It's a historic occasion,” he said as they sat. “Did you want to say a few words?”

“None would be fit for polite society.”

He winked. “I'm not that polite.”

“True.”

He offered her what looked like kung pao chicken. “You're serious about the leave of absence?”

She scooped the spicy chicken onto her plate. “Absolutely. My new job is you. I know that makes your heart all quivery.”

Instead of serving himself, he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and took a sip of wine.

“I wouldn't describe any part of me as quivery, but I
am
curious as to your plan.”

“I told you. Watch, follow, catch you being bad.”

He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “There will be so many opportunities.”

“You think you're all that, don't you?”

“I know I am.”

The man had balls, Dana thought as she reached for
the egg rolls. Really big ones. And an ego the size of the
Titanic
. Both of which could work in her favor. If he didn't think she was a threat, he would be careless. And that's when she would see the real Garth Duncan.

He served himself from the containers. The overhead lights flattered his dark good looks and his easygoing personality made him an appealing dinner companion. He must have women lining up five deep to get a shot at him and his fortune. Fortunately, she was immune. She could certainly appreciate what she saw, but she wasn't interested. He wasn't her type.

“You must be disappointed,” he said. “My interview with the Dallas Police Department didn't include questionable practices. They were polite and didn't once beat me with a pipe.”

“Another hope crushed. I'll get over it. There's always tomorrow.” She sipped her wine. It was a smooth red that would probably be described as saucy or impatient or something else equally stupid. She just thought it was good.

“Izzy and Skye came to see me today,” he said. “Izzy's determined to save me from myself.”

“She has more heart than sense.”

“Not a fault you share?”

“I'm heartless,” she said cheerfully.

“Then we have that in common.”

“Lucky us. You might have snowed Izzy, but the rest of the sisters won't be so easy.”

“I wasn't trying to snow anyone. Izzy's decided this
on her own.” He leaned toward her. “How do you play into all this? If Izzy's convinced I'm to be brought into the arms of the family, why are you so determined to throw me in jail?”

“I've always liked sports. Besides, Izzy hasn't convinced me or Lexi that you're interested in changing your plan. The theory is if you're really who Izzy thinks, you'll understand my need to protect my friends. If you're not, you deserve what you get.”

“You're not a big believer in gray area, are you?”

“No. I'm not. And neither are you.”

He raised his glass to her. “Be careful, Deputy Dana. If we have much more in common, we'll have to be friends, and neither of us would be happy with that news.”

“Don't worry. I'll never like you.”

He smiled. “Is that a promise?”

“Sure.”

“Good. A challenge. And here I thought it was going to be a dull evening. My mistake.”

There was something in his eyes. Something predatory that made her want to squirm in her seat. She had to remember Garth was just a guy. He put his pants on one leg at a time.

“You expect to get away with things because of your position and your wealth,” she said. “That won't work with me.”

“Are you saying you've never used the fact that you're a deputy to get out of a ticket?”

“That's different.”

“No, it's not. Everyone likes to feel powerful and to feel that they have a certain amount of control in life. The need to be unique and recognized lives in all of us.”

She reached for her wine. “Don't tell me you're going to be insightful about the lives of ordinary people.”

“I'm ordinary.”

She rolled her eyes.

He shrugged. “I was. I've been there.”

“Remind your cell mate of that when you're in prison.”

He smiled. “That's not going to happen and you know it. I've done nothing wrong. Not legally.”

“If we exclude the explosion, you're still guilty of plenty. You've started rumors to drive down stock prices, including telling some reporter that executives at Titan World were stealing.”

He passed her a shrimp-and-vegetable dish that smelled delicious.

“How do you know they weren't?” he asked. “Your assumption is I've created the situation from thin air. What if it was there all the time?”

Something she didn't want to think about. Jed might be a mean old bastard who didn't give a rat about his daughters, but she'd never thought of him as a crook.

“You're saying he
did
export illegal weapons to terrorists?”

“I'm saying you should check out the possibility before you assume anything.”

From everything she knew about Garth, he didn't bluff. “If you had proof, you'd take it to the Feds.”

“Maybe I'm collecting data. I do my homework, Dana. You should do yours.”

She pushed away her plate. She was here to make things better for her friends, not worse. If Jed was involved with all that Garth had accused him of, there was going to be one big mess to clean up.

“Let's change the subject,” he said, pouring her more wine. “How's your father? Florida is a great place, this time of year.”

If she'd been swallowing, she would have choked.

How much did he know about her? And there were variations on the question—who had told him and why? How had he known to go digging? And was he just playing the odds or did he have actual information?

“I wouldn't know,” she said coolly. “We don't keep in touch.”

“I'm not surprised. You never confronted him. Some children do—go back as an adult. Face the devil, so to speak. You just wanted to put it all behind you.”

She didn't know if he was asking or telling and she didn't care. She could go the rest of her life without seeing her dad and be very happy. There had been too much one-on-one time when she'd been younger.

Her mother had died when Dana had been young—too young to remember her. Dana's father hadn't been all that interested in his baby daughter and a series of girlfriends had offered indifferent care. Later, when
she'd been six or seven, she'd become a liability. The women who came and went didn't like a “brat like her” hanging around. Annoyed with Dana for making trouble, her father had started hitting her.

Or maybe he'd just hit her because he liked it.

The beatings had dominated her young life. There were always bruises she had to hide, sprains she couldn't explain. Maybe her teachers had known, maybe they'd simply looked the other way, but no one ever asked questions.

He'd left one day, without saying a word. She'd been sixteen and so grateful, she hadn't told anyone. She'd practically moved in with Lexi and her sisters who might have suspected the truth but had never discussed it.

Eventually she heard the old man had settled in Florida. She'd gone to college and never looked back. But how had Garth known?

“You did something with the fear,” he said. “I respect that.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

They stared at each other. There was no judgment in his eyes, nothing to make her uncomfortable, save the fact that he'd obviously uncovered her deepest, darkest secret. Which meant she had to learn his.

She remembered the scars on his body, scars he'd gotten while a prisoner, blindfolded constantly and tortured on a daily basis. Maybe Garth didn't have any secrets. Maybe he wore the truth on his body every day.

“I would recommend revenge,” he said, “but you're not the type.”

“I believe in that old Chinese saying. The one that says before you begin a journey of revenge, first dig two graves.”

“Not a problem. I'm sure there's a Titan mausoleum somewhere.”

Jed had created this enemy, Dana thought, almost able to feel sorry for the old man. He had earned whatever happened to him.

After getting Kathy, Garth's mother, pregnant, he'd set her up with enough money to take care of her and her baby. It beat marrying her, at least from Jed's perspective.

Everything had been fine until Kathy developed a brain tumor. Aggressive treatment and surgery burned through her insurance and Jed's money. Fourteen-year-old Garth had been desperate to save his mother and had gone to Jed to beg for enough to cover a last-chance surgery. Jed had refused and had thrown his bastard son out on the street.

That fourteen-year-old boy had grown up into the man sitting across from her. A man determined to exact painful vengeance. Garth had finally found a doctor willing to do the surgery for free, but by then it had been too late. While Kathy had survived, she'd been left mentally challenged. A friendly, simple woman who adored Garth but in no way realized she was his mother.

“What happens if you win?” Dana asked. “What do you want? The company? Your name on the letterhead? Are you going to run Titan World?”

“No. I'll break it up and sell it off. When I'm done, nothing Jed worked for will exist anymore.”

“It's not about the glory?”

“I was never in it for that. I want Jed to pay for what he did, nothing more. You should respect that. It's all black and white. You like absolutes. It's why you're a cop.”

A lucky guess on his part, she told herself. He didn't really know her that well.

“You're breaking the law to get what you want,” she told him. “That makes it gray. And going after the sisters is pretty sad. Come on. They're girls.”

He laughed. “Would you let them hear you say that? They think of themselves as powerful women.”