InTooDeep

In Too Deep

Rachel Carrington

Carley Morgan is
desperate to find her kidnapped sister—and the man responsible. To do that, she’ll
first have to find someone she can trust who works inside the law. Someone
willing to trust a thief—because that’s what Carley is, a thief whose skills
have earned her top dollar. But those skills won’t help her convince Detective
Hunt Brandon she needs him.

Hunt doesn’t trust
easily, and the sexy redhead who broke into his house isn’t earning any points.
Once he discovers who Carley really is, he knows he should arrest her. But the
more he learns, the more he suspects they’re both hunting the same person. They
can help each other find the truth and put an end to an unspeakable crime ring.

Sparks igniting
between them, Carley and Hunt soon find the situation even more dangerous when
their feelings threaten to risk the investigation. And when danger turns to
long, hot nights, they both could end up on the wrong side of a bullet.

In Too Deep

Rachel Carrington

Chapter One

A loud boom of thunder and the unmistakable
knowledge he was no longer alone woke Hunt Brandon from a sound, and for the
first time in weeks, dreamless sleep. The bedside clock read three a.m. Shit.
He’d only been in bed a couple of hours.

Something clinked. Keys, maybe? Whatever it
was, it wasn’t a normal sound, especially considering he lived alone…and
preferred it that way. His hand slipped beneath his pillow and closed around
cold steel. Reassured that he was still in control of the situation, he made
sure the clip was in place. Rolling to his feet, he crouched down beside his
bed and scooted toward the wall beside the door.

Soft footsteps were barely discernible but
to Hunt they sounded a jackhammer pounding against concrete. His partner
accused him of having ears like an elephant and, in this instance, he was more
than grateful for the exceptional hearing he’d inherited from his mother.

His eyes accustomed to the darkness, he saw
the brass handle turn. The door swept open without a hint of sound. Hunt
waited. If his sleep was going to be interrupted, it was going to be for a hell
of a lot more than just an unlawful entry collar.

Go ahead, buddy. Make your move. I can
have the bracelets on you and a patrol car here in less than five minutes.
And, hopefully, he’d manage a couple more hours of shuteye.

Dressed in black to fade into the darkness,
the figure moved into the room with an economy of motion. A thin beam of light
swept across the top of Hunt’s dresser until it fell on his wallet and shield.
Tucking the flashlight beneath one arm, the figure picked up his wallet
simultaneously with the twist of Hunt’s wrist that switched on the bedside
lamp.

Weapon trained on his uninvited guest, he
stood. “Put the wallet down slowly and raise your hands in the air.” With
reflexes born out of years of intense practice, he flexed his grip on the gun,
anticipating the intruder’s next move.

The figure hesitated but the slide of the
clip made compliance the only choice. With a sound of frustration his uninvited
visitor dropped the leather trifold to the dresser and extended hands in the
air.

Hunt reached for the handcuffs on the
bedside table. “Now turn around and remove the mask. I like to look my
unexpected guests in the eye.”

Fingers encased in black leather gloves
caught the bottom of the black face mask and tugged it upward. A wealth of
vibrant, copper-colored hair spilled across slender shoulders and, as Hunt’s
mouth fell open, the intruder tossed her head back, revealing a porcelain face
and eyes as green as polished emeralds.

He almost grinned. So that was why the
footsteps had been minimal. Though the woman was tall and curvy, she held
herself with a grace that couldn’t be anything other than natural. A gymnast
maybe? Definitely athletic.

“You’re staring at me.” The voice, a husky
drawl, brought his gaze to her face.

“I think I’m entitled. You broke into my
home.”

“Actually, I didn’t have to break in. You
should remember to lock your doors.”

He hadn’t forgotten to lock his door, but
then, he hadn’t actually expected a thief, no matter how beautiful, to admit to
a crime. With a grunt, he tossed the silver bracelets in her direction. “Put
those on and then tell me your name.”

She snapped the handcuffs into place with
an efficiency that told him she’d done it before. “Is that usually the first
thing you do when someone breaks into your house? Ask a name?”

Her carefree attitude spoke volumes. This
wasn’t a woman who was intimidated by a cop. And since she hadn’t bolted from
his bedroom at the first glimpse of his badge, he figured she’d probably
crossed paths with one or two detectives in her time.

“Considering no one’s had the balls to
break in here before, that’s not a question I can answer.”

“You mean because you’re a cop? Is that
supposed to deter people?”

“I don’t advertise my profession on my
front door.”

She lifted one shoulder, a careless shrug
designed to irritate. It almost succeeded. “It doesn’t matter. Everything about
you screams cop.”

“To most criminals, yeah.”

Her full lips curved into a smile. “Is that
what you think I am?”

“Lady, you broke into my home. I believe
your presence supports that allegation. Now I’ll ask you again, what’s your
name?”

“And if I refuse to tell you, Detective
Brandon? Are you going to arrest me?”

“I’m going to do that either way.” He
glanced around the room, his mind beginning a slow spin. “You know, most
burglars start with the stuff they see in the first room they come to. Since
you didn’t, I’m assuming you’re after something else. You want to tell me what
that is before I read you your rights?”

“Not particularly.” The two words were
clipped.

“Fine. Then we can do this in an
interrogation room with weak coffee and bright lights.”

She took a step toward him. “Sorry to disappoint
you, but I won’t be able to join you.”

“Not one more move,” he threatened, lifting
the nose of the gun in warning. Dammit, he didn’t want to have to shoot her.
That tight lycra clinging to her curves without a doubt concealed a body that
was damn near perfect. It’d be a shame to scar it.

Continuing to smile, she lowered her arms
to shoulder level. “You don’t really want to arrest me, Detective. In fact, you
want to know more about me. I can see that much in your eyes, and putting me
behind bars won’t serve your purpose.”

She had a point but he was still a cop. And
she’d just committed a crime. Duty screamed loudly in his ear. “Just tell me
why you’re here. You don’t have a gun so I’m assuming you didn’t come here in a
half-assed attempt to kill me. And you don’t look stupid so I can’t imagine
you’d really consider doing that anyway.”

Tipping her head to one side, she studied
him with green eyes that seemed to glow in the meager light offered by the
lamp. “I suppose I could tell you that much but this isn’t exactly how I
planned our first conversation.”

“Improvise.”

The slight tipping of her lips told him she
found his retort amusing, though he saw something in her eyes…a touch of pain,
maybe? “Okay, fine. You have something I need.”

One eyebrow lifted. “That’s a different
approach.”

She made a sound in the back of her throat.
“Not sex.”

“Damn my luck.” He was starting to enjoy
the dialogue, and his guard slipped another notch—along with his gun.

Apparently, just the moment she’d been
waiting for. She leaped forward and her feet landed solidly in the center of
his chest. The force of the blow rocketed him backward, flinging him onto the
mattress.

He pushed himself off, adrenaline pumping
through his veins like high-octane. With one swipe of her hand she took out the
light and darkness claimed the room. He took a moment to regain his bearings
but she wasn’t waiting.

She caught him across the cheek with a
swift uppercut left hook. Damn. She hit like a man. With a string of curses he
stumbled back, staggering across the carpet. Two feet caught him in the solar
plexus again, slamming against his ribs like a baseball bat. The breath ripped
from his lungs, he dropped to his knees and tried to suck in necessary oxygen.

The beautiful redhead didn’t wait around to
see if she’d killed him. Instead she burst out of the bedroom and down the
hallway, her movements as quick as the flame of a lighter. Seconds later he
heard the thump of the front door.

Shit. For the first time in his life he’d
been bested by a woman. That didn’t sit too well with him but what made matters
worse, he’d liked the physical contact. In his line of work he met a lot of
female victims and few aggressors. So meeting one who could knock him on his
ass definitely upped his curiosity.

She’d definitely been right about one
thing—he didn’t want her behind bars, not before he knew just what it was she
wanted from him. For all he knew, it might be something he’d enjoy.

Carley’s blood still hummed with the
aftereffects of her nocturnal visit to Detective Brandon’s home. It had been
quite a while since she’d used the simple basics she’d learned from her father.
Usually she preferred to rely on technology but she wasn’t surprised to find
the rush was still there for the old ways.

But beyond that was the image of the man’s
face still imprinted on her brain. God, he was attractive. With dark hair, dark
eyes, broad shoulders and an absolutely fabulous set of abs, he was definitely
going to make this job a bit easier.
Down, girl. You’re not here for sex…at
least not yet…not until you know what’s going on with Dani.

A single schoolteacher who rarely dated,
Dani was Carley’s kid sister, and up until three days ago they’d talked every
day, sometimes more than once. Then Dani had become unreachable. No returned
phone calls and no answers. After seventy-two hours Carley’s internal radar had
gone into overdrive and she’d taken a red-eye from New York to Charleston.

Her cell phone trilled and she pulled it
out of her purse.

“Carley, thank God. Where are you? I’ve
been looking everywhere for you!” Janet’s voice held a note of censure.
Carley’s right hand, Janet prided herself on running a tight ship. Ordinarily
nothing got past her so her disapproval didn’t come as a surprise.

“I’m in Charleston.”

“South Carolina?” Janet’s voice edged up a
notch. “Is something wrong with Dani?”

“I’m not sure. It’s probably nothing but I
wanted to check.” Pushing herself off the bed, Carley walked alongside the
paneled bar in the hotel room that screamed wealth and whispered discretion.
Sitting adjacent to the Battery in downtown Charleston, the classy Barrister
Hotel afforded travelers and vacationers an extraordinary view of the Atlantic
Ocean and, though most probably weren’t interested in this additional sight, a
panoramic glimpse of the local police department.

Carley couldn’t have asked for a better
room, although the one hundred dollar bill she’d slipped the clerk had, no
doubt, afforded her the accommodations that met her exact specifications.

Silence stretched across the line and
Carley could practically see the wheels turning in her assistant’s head. “How
long will you be there?”

“I’m not sure about that, either.”

“You do realize we have a job Friday,
right?”

Carley almost laughed at the “we”. In
truth,
she
had a job to do. Though by now she’d managed to amass a tidy
fortune, Carley had resisted Janet’s repetitive suggestions to hire a team.
Maybe it had something to do with the adrenaline rush or just the memories of
her father. Either way, she still risked her freedom at least once a month.

“Carley?”

“I’m here.” But Carley had already begun to
drift from the conversation. She didn’t want to talk or worry about Friday’s
job, not when she had no clue if her sister had gotten herself into some kind
of trouble. “We may have to postpone Friday.”

“Postpone? Carley, it’s not a business
meeting. The target will be available on Friday only. With the Forresters out
of town until Saturday morning it’s the perfect time to acquire the
merchandise, and we already have a buyer.”

Trying to massage away a beginning
migraine, Carley stood at the window, staring out at the glittering lights
reflecting off the ocean. “I know, but I haven’t heard from Dani in three days.
I’m not leaving here until I know what’s happened to her.”

“And what am I supposed to tell your
client?” The bark of disapproval sent Carley’s temper soaring.

“Tell him he’ll get the damn painting when
I get it.” She ended the conversation, knowing she’d call later and apologize
to Janet. For now she needed a few hours’ sleep before she made her next
connection with the detective.

En route to the bed, she made a quick
detour by the bar and poured herself a shot of straight scotch. Staring up at
her from a silver frame was Dani’s innocent gaze. The alcohol burned in her
stomach like an untamed fire. Carley slammed the glass down onto the countertop
and whirled away.

“Dammit, Dani, where in the hell are you?”

Hunt’s nighttime visitor, the bruises she
left behind and his subsequent inability to sleep even another ten minutes let
alone the four hours he’d been going for, hadn’t placed him in the best of
moods. Walking across the tiled floors of the precinct, his gaze shielded
behind a pair of dark lenses, he ignored the cheerful greetings that only made
him grumpier. Seeking sanctuary behind his desk, he slumped over the scarred
wood and flipped through the stack of active files on his desk.

“Good morning!” Dave Papolnia was a morning
person, and Hunt had always considered it a glaring sign of their former
lieutenant’s sick sense of humor that he’d placed the two of them together.
“Hey, I brought you some cappuccino. You’ve got to try this kind.”

Hunt’s sunglasses dropped to the desktop.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t drink fancy coffee before
it’s going to sink in?”

“What’s wrong with you? You look even worse
than normal. Rough night?”

“You could say that.” He kicked away from
the desk and began rifling through the stack of files on the floor. “Did I get
any calls from a woman yesterday, maybe someone who didn’t leave a message?”

Dave considered the question while blowing
across the heated liquid in his cup. “Not that I can recall. Why?”

“Because I had an uninvited guest last
night…a woman.”

“Uh-oh. Did the stick turn blue?”

“Very funny.” Hunt dragged a hand through
his thick hair and straightened. “I’m being serious.”

Dave, lips still pursed, lifted his head to
look at him. “Well what did she want?”

“She didn’t hang around long enough to tell
me.”