Hot on Her Heels. Сьюзен Мэллери
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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