Mine to Hold (Mine #3)(19)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Colby Harrison’s body.

“You think she did it?” Lane asked as his arm brushed against hers.

Gwen looked over at him. He’d been her partner for a year.

Her lover for six months.

“If I’d been her, I would’ve probably killed him,” Lane added. “I mean, shit, you read the file on her. The fellow’s son went full-on stalker over the woman. He had a gun to her head when the cops arrived. Everyone there knew just what he’d done, but then the Senator started spinning that bull about Claire being the mastermind—”

Gwen’s sigh cut through his words. “Men. You see a pretty face, and you forget the danger.”

He blinked at her. Then he leaned in close. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “You’re the only pretty face I see.”

Gwen wouldn’t let her reaction to his words show. She’d learned to be very careful with Lane. With everyone. “I’m saying I think there is more to Claire Kramer than meets the eye.”

Lane ran a hand through his hair, tousling the short locks. “Despite what he said, I’m betting that Noah York is going to put an army of lawyers in our path, not just one lady, if we go after Claire Kramer again.”

Lawyers didn’t scare Gwen. “Then we just have to be sure that when we go after her, we have enough evidence to knock our way right through that army.” And she knew just where they had to start with that evidence. “Let’s go get Vincent Finch. I want him brought into the station.” She had plenty of other questions to ask the guy.

If Claire Kramer had killed the senator, Gwen wasn’t about to give the woman a free pass. She might feel bad for what Claire had been through—

But you don’t get to kill in my town.

***

The plane was in the air. Noah exhaled slowly. He’d wanted to get away before the cops stopped them, but…well, we’re still clear.

Claire was beside him. She wasn’t looking at him, though. Her gaze was locked on the window.

The pilot was up front. They were alone in the back. Secure. So he waited, knowing that sooner or later, Claire would turn to him.

Five minutes later, she did.

“Do you think I killed him?” Claire asked as her delicate eyebrows arched.

Noah shook his head.

“Why not?” She seemed confused. “I don’t have an alibi. I don’t—”

“You misunderstand me, Claire.” He caught her chin. For this part, he needed her to look directly into his eyes. “I don’t care if you killed him.”

Her lips parted.

“But I will make sure that no matter what else happens, those cops stay away from you.”

“I didn’t do it!”

He kept staring into her eyes. “Were you at his hotel?” Say no. It would be so much easier to cover up if she just—

“I was.” Her gaze lowered. Her long lashes shielded her eyes. “I asked the bellman at our hotel where the senator had gone. He-he’d been there when the taxi driver got the destination.” She eased out a soft sigh. “I thought about talking to the senator alone. Asking him to pl-please stop. To just leave me alone.”

Anger surged within him. She shouldn’t beg.

Then Claire’s lashes lifted. Something new was in her eyes. A spark. Anger of her own. “Then I realized he’d just like it if I went to him, pleading. He wasn’t going to stop harassing me. There was no point in me talking to him. The bastard was going to hound me for the rest of his life.” Her breath eased out slowly. “I’m glad he’s dead. That should make me feel bad, but it doesn’t.”

It didn’t make Noah feel bad. During his life, he’d seen plenty of death. Before he’d started York Towers, he’d been a soldier, one too good at killing. He’d gotten a spot on an elite military team.

He and Trace Weston had run that team. Their job had been to rescue high-level prisoners who’d been captured by U.S. enemies. Collateral damage had been a way of life.

His fingers stroked down her neck.

Collateral damage.

After he’d ended his last tour, Noah had kept working with Trace. They’d gone independent. There were still individuals who’d needed their help. Powerful men and women who’d gotten caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Some of their clients had been extremely grateful.

One had been so grateful that he’d given Noah his first hotel.

And Noah had walked away from the bloodshed. From the battles. From the death.

For her, I’d walk back.

For Claire, he was coming to realize that he might do just about anything.

Even kill.

***

“There he is,” Gwen said as she pointed across the street.

Vincent Finch had just left his hotel.

“Let’s get him.” Lane let out a loud whistle.

Finch glanced up at the sound. They’d called him and told the guy they’d be coming back to pick him up.

Finch hurried toward the cross walk.

The light changed. Finch didn’t stop walking. He ran into the street.

An engine revved.

Gwen’s eyes widened. “Finch, stop!”

A black SUV shot forward. It slammed right into Finch. The guy’s body flew into the air, twisted, then hit the concrete.

The vehicle kept driving. It raced away with a squeal of its tires. She heard Lane calling for back-up. Gwen ran across the street.

Blood, oh, jeez, blood was everywhere.

Finch was face-up on the concrete. His neck was twisted. His eyes—closed.

“Finch?” Gwen put her hand to his throat.

No pulse.

Their only witness was dead in the street.

Chapter Five

“I have to leave town,” Noah said as he paced toward Claire.

Shocked, she could only shake her head. “We just got back in town an hour ago.” They’d made it to York Towers less than ten minutes before.

“This can’t wait,” Noah said.

Claire was shaken. Senator Harrison is dead. She wanted Noah to stay with her. She didn’t want to be alone and— “I can come with you,” she offered and hoped that she didn’t sound desperate. She sure felt that way.

He shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Where are you going?” What was happening?

“Vegas,” he said flatly. “I’ll be back by tomorrow.” He started packing. Claire just watched him, totally lost.

After everything that had just happened, he was going to fly away and leave her?