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Deadly Lies

Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(34)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“It’s his fault. Tell him that.” Simple damn rules. “But I gave the guy his son back.” Just not the way he wanted. A soft laugh. “Warrant has so many f**king properties in this town. Too many. If he wants Adam, he has to start cleaning house.” Oh, yeah.

“Wh-who is this? We have a reward, sir, if you’ll just—”

He could almost see the cop next to the jerk, probably rolling his hand and telling the guy to keep him on the line. Not going to happen. “I didn’t ask for 50K.” That small change wouldn’t have even been worth the effort. “Adam was worth more.”

Sighing, he ended the call. He had his gloves on so he’d blend in with the other joggers—it really was a bitch of a cold morning—so he didn’t have to worry about leaving prints as he dropped the phone. The cell fell into the bushes near his feet. Then he took a deep breath and ran forward, knowing the path picked up again in about thirty feet. His heart began to pump, faster, faster…

He shot out onto the path and kept running. Blending with the others would be so easy now. Blending—he’d always been good at that. A smile could get you anywhere.

But money could get you everywhere.

He gave a little wave as he passed a sexy blonde. Everywhere.

How long would it be before they found the body? Hopefully not too long. Even in the cold, Adam would really start to reek.

If he’d timed things right—and he was so good at planning—the cops would be tearing apart those buildings looking for Adam just as the exchange was made for good old Quinlan.

Diversion. So simple. So perfect.

Damn, but this was easy.

CHAPTER Eight

We divide the team,” Luke said, hunching his shoulders against the biting cold and talking fast to Kim Daniels as the Warrant residence swarmed with activity around him. They’d pulled up a listing of every piece of property that Warrant owned. Turned out the guy owned nearly half the town. “Kim, we need to start with the most secluded properties first.” Because the kidnappers wouldn’t want an audience when they dumped their victim.

His finger tapped on the list of addresses. “These three businesses are closed down.” A fabric shop. A gym. An old garage.

“No eyes, no ears,” Kim murmured. “Sounds like prime dumping stops.”

Kim wasn’t sugar coating. She wasn’t the type. When she’d first heard about the news story, she’d turned to him and said two words: “He’s dead.”

Special Agent Kim Daniels wasn’t what most folks would call an optimistic kind of person. But then, with this case, it was hard for anyone to be.

“We need Monica,” she said quietly, her breath forming a small cloud before her face.

She was right. Of course she was. He and Monica couldn’t work as direct partners, but he could use her. “Take her to the properties with you.” He knew Monica was already on her way. Nothing would keep her away from a scene like this.

To keep working the profile, Monica would need to see the crime scene. When she saw the layout of the body and its placement by the killer, maybe something would click for her.

“Talk to Hyde,” Luke advised. “See who else we can spare for pairing with the local PD on searches.” Why did Slayton Warrant have to go to the media? Why?

“You’re sending Ramirez with Ridgeway and Frank Malone for the drop?” Kim asked.

“Yeah, he’s going, and I’ll be backup.” Because he had to be there. “Hyde’s calling in Kenton. He wants him to manage the media when this shit hits the fan.” And it would, soon. Especially once the media learned that Adam Warrant had been taken while two FBI agents were on the premises of The Core.

Kim stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “This isn’t your fault.” Her tight whisper. “Warrant went to the media on his own. He was warned, just like the others—”

“Like Ridgeway was warned?” He bit out the words and knew that up in that big freaking mansion on Rightmont Lane, Sam was having the same thought. “When you break the rules, people die with these ass**les, right? We broke the rules, too.”

Her gaze held his. “They don’t know that.”

None of them could be sure about what the kidnappers knew or didn’t know. “Once the exchange is made, I’ll feel a hell of a lot better.”

Luke understood the job. He realized that risks were there, every damn second, but acid had eaten away at his gut from the minute that he’d found out about Sam’s connection—and known that he’d use her. “I don’t want Sam caught in the crossfire.” He’d never forget the look in her eyes when he’d found her in the water…

Luke clenched his jaw. Seeing Sam, he knew what Monica must have been like, years before, when the nightmare first came to her life.

There were too damn many nightmares in the world.

“Sam’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for,” Kim said flatly. “Than we all are. She survived once, and she’ll do it again.”

But Kim hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen Sam. Or heard Sam’s first choked whisper when they’d forced her to breathe again.

“Men.” Kim shook her head. “Don’t you know, what doesn’t break us just makes us more dangerous?” A wide smile flashed now, one with a vicious edge. “That’s sure as hell what happened for me.”

Such a small, delicate woman. Exotic face. Slender build. But if the stories about Kim were true, and the things he’d seen in the SSD certainly made him believe they were, the woman was a perfect killer. Just one who happened to work on the side with the good guys.

“This is damn bullshit! Get out of my way!” Slayton Warrant appeared in the doorway, his face blotched red, his eyes glittering. “You ass**les don’t know anything! I want someone in charge. I want—”

“Us,” Kim said, her hands rising to her slim hips and balling into tight fists. “If you want the people in charge, you’re looking at them.”

Warrant’s eyes narrowed. “You two with the FBI?”

“Special Agent Luke Dante,” he told the older man, offering his hand. Warrant frowned, but took it in a quick, hard shake. “This is Special Agent Kim Daniels.” She didn’t offer her hand. Kim didn’t exactly have the best people skills.

“All the local PD on scene will be reporting to us from here on out.” Luke kept his voice cool. Monica would have been proud. “We’re going to start canvassing your properties to see what we can—”

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