Stranded With The Suspect. Cindi Myers
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she said nothing. He had obviously made up his mind. And what business was it of his how the Family spent their money? She opened her mouth to ask him, but he cut her off.
“Whose idea was it to come here?” he asked her.
“The Prophet’s.”
“He wanted you here so that you couldn’t tell us anything we could use against him,” Simon said. “But it’s too late for that now. We already have everything we need to put him away.”
“Are you saying you arrested him?” She tried to keep the alarm out of her voice, but failed. For months, the Rangers had been harassing Daniel Metwater and his followers. The Family, as they called themselves, got the blame for every crime that occurred on the public lands the Ranger Brigade patrolled.
“When was the last time you heard from him?” Simon asked.
“I haven’t heard anything from him since he brought me here three days ago,” she said. “Why? Where is he? What have you done to him?”
“We haven’t done anything. We don’t know where he is.” Simon’s eyes met hers, black and hard as coal. “I was hoping you did.”
She shook her head and sank onto the sofa, fearful her legs would no longer support her. “What’s happened? Why are you looking for him?”
“We found your friend Starfall’s baby.”
“Hunter!” Fear clogged her throat. Her tentmate’s child had disappeared from camp two days before Metwater drove Andi to Denver. Starfall had accused the Prophet of taking her child, but Andi knew that couldn’t be true. “Is he okay? Where was he?”
“He’s fine. He was with a couple of guys named Smith. Two brothers. Sound familiar?”
She shook her head, relief flooding her. “Then you know Daniel didn’t take Hunter,” she said. “Why are you still looking for him when you know he’s innocent?”
“The Smith brothers told us Daniel Metwater paid them to take Starfall’s baby,” Simon said. “Metwater said he wanted to teach her a lesson.”
Andi shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Then why did he kidnap Starfall and try to kill her? He tried to kill Ethan Reynolds, the Ranger who was trying to help her, too.”
“You’re lying. The Prophet would never do anything like that. He promotes peace.”
Simon stood over her, his shadow falling across her face, his bulk making her feel even smaller. “Why are you defending him?” he demanded. “What has he done for you but take your money and sleep with other women?”
She cringed at the words. “He’s trying to teach me not to be possessive.” Wanting the Prophet of their people all to herself was her personal failing, one she struggled with.
“A truly good man wouldn’t treat you this way,” Simon said, his voice gentler. “He would cherish you and protect you, not lie to you and use you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His expression hardened. “Maybe not. But I know you’re in danger if you don’t get away from him.”
“Danger?” The word shocked her out of her despair. She sat up straighter. “What kind of danger?”
“Daniel Metwater is running for his life right now. Every law enforcement agency in the country is hunting for him,” Simon said. “He knows sooner or later we’re going to catch him. When we do, he doesn’t want you around to testify against him.”
“I would never testify against him,” she said, horrified at the idea.
“You’re not married to him. You can be compelled to tell what you know.”
“But I don’t know anything.”
“I think you do,” Simon said. “You’re closer to Daniel Metwater than anyone. You may not realize the significance of the information, but it’s something big enough that he took care to hide you away here, under an assumed name.”
“If that’s true and he’s so terrible, why didn’t he just kill me?” she asked. “That’s apparently the kind of man you think he is.”
Simon’s expression didn’t change. “He has to keep you alive until your twenty-fifth birthday, when your trust comes under your control. If you die after that, the money all goes to Daniel Metwater—am I right?”
He was, though she had no intention of confirming this. “The Prophet would never harm me,” she said.
“I’ll bet Starfall thought the same thing, until he beat her and stole her baby.”
Andi pressed her hands against her belly, feeling the child shift inside her. “You need to leave,” she said.
“I’ll go for now,” he said. “But I won’t be far away.” He headed toward the door. “I have a feeling Metwater is going to come back for you, and when he does, he’ll find me waiting.”
He left, closing the door firmly behind him. She stared after him, rage and fear and sickness swirling through her. Simon Woolridge was a horrible man. How could he make such terrible accusations against a man who spoke words of peace and caring? Daniel Metwater had saved her, and so many others.
Simon was a hard, abrasive cop who had no concern for her or her feelings.
But Daniel Metwater, despite all his goodness, had lied to her more than once. As far as she knew, Simon had never lied to her, even when telling the truth hurt.
Simon prowled the hallway outside Andi’s room, immune to the appeal of well-upholstered chairs and elegant chandeliers. He viewed the hotel like a battleground, noting positions from which to mount an offensive, and the many places a fugitive might hide.
His conversation with Andi hadn’t gone as he had hoped. He had meant to come down hard on her, to insist that she come with him to a shelter or another place of safety. But one look at her beautiful, weary face had melted his resolve. Maybe it was better for her and her baby if she stayed here, where she would at least be comfortable. He would guard her and wait.
Metwater was going to come for her; Simon was sure of it. The man preached poverty and the simple life to his followers, but he had used the very people who depended on him to amass assets in excess of sixty-eight million dollars. And that was only the accounts Simon had managed to locate. There was probably more stashed elsewhere.
But he was a fugitive on the run now, his bank accounts frozen and unavailable to him. He would need money to leave the country, to run out of the reach of US law. Andi had money, and Metwater could be confident she would give it to him. All he had to do was get to her. A different type of man might have gotten by on wits and cunning alone, but Metwater was used to paying his way out of trouble.
He was the son of a man who had made a fortune manufacturing plastics in Chicago. He had a twin brother, David, who had reportedly embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars from the family business before Metwater Senior’s death. Without his dad to reign him in, David had really gone off the rails, racking up gambling debts, dabbling in the drug trade and getting in deep with the Russian mob. He had died under mysterious circumstances, supposedly killed by organized crime members he had tried to double-cross.
Meanwhile, Daniel kept on managing the family business, serving on the boards of various charities and cleaning up the mess his brother made. David’s death, he told the press, cut him deeply, to the point where he sold the family business and took to the road, preaching peace and poverty to a growing list of followers, who eventually followed him to the public lands of Colorado, where they set up camp in the Rangers’ jurisdiction.