Run the Risk (24 page)

“And you used that to your advantage!”

He accepted that accusation. “Just as you’ve used it to your
advantage since then.”

“Complaining?” she asked with a sneer.

Logan understood her. Whenever she worried, she got more
sarcastic, almost as a cover to her real thoughts. “The sex is amazing, so, no,
you won’t hear any complaints from me.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“But if I wanted only sex, I could have that without you.”

She drew in a sharp breath.

Rushing so that she wouldn’t misunderstand, he said, “I wanted
shy, withdrawn Sue Meeks. I sure as hell want Pepper Yates. You’re stronger than
I ever realized. More independent. Loyal and funny.”

“I haven’t denied you, Logan. You don’t need to pour on the
compliments.”

“Only speaking the truth.” He desperately wanted her to
understand. “The thing is, last night, holding you while you slept, waking with
you tucked close this morning…that is and always will be special to me. I’ll
never take it for granted.”

Anger deflating, she eyed him. “Never?”

Emotion left his voice gravelly. “Even before I saw the real
you, I had regrets and reservations. I’d wanted Morton Andrews for so damned
long. I wanted to avenge my friend Jack. That need drove me. Hell, it almost
consumed me.” He glanced at her. “But then there was you, and I hated that you
were involved…”

“You involved me,” she whispered.

“No, Andrews did that. But I brought it all back out in the
open, and I’m sorry for that, too.” He pawed the steering wheel. “For a while
there, I wished that I’d done things differently. The thing is…” He felt the
beating of his own heart, and he sensed her suspended breathing. “Now I know
you, Pepper, the real you, and I wouldn’t want to give that up, no matter
what.”

After a small eternity, she reached out a hand to him.

Acceptance—of his explanation, or…of him? Praying for the
latter, Logan squeezed her fingers. “I need you to trust me, honey,” he stated
again.

She gave one small nod. “Okay.”

He was glad to have that settled, but he couldn’t relax yet.
“We’re going to Reese’s apartment first.”

Confused, she looked out the window. “I heard you tell my
brother to meet us at Dash’s house.”

“Yes, and we’ll get there eventually. But I want to
double-check on things first, and if I’m not satisfied, I want a safe place to
stash you until I can work it out. My house is probably being watched, so we’re
going to Reese’s apartment.”

“And my brother?”

It wouldn’t be easy, because they both knew that, regardless of
the danger involved, Rowdy would put his life on the line for her. Logan knew
what Rowdy meant to her, and because he now accepted that he loved her, too, he
wanted her happy.

“You have my word, honey. I’ll do whatever I can to keep him
safe.”

More than a little displeased with his promise, she gave him a
disgruntled frown, murmured an insincere “Thanks,” and looked away.

* * *

M
ORTON
RAN
A
HAND
over his new,
darker hair, cut in a ridiculously shabby way. He didn’t like it; it made him
look average, when he was anything but. The beard shadow, sunglasses and bulkier
clothes helped conceal his identity.

He missed his fine wardrobe, as he missed his caravan of cars
and toadies. But it wouldn’t be for much longer. The cops thought him dead.
Business associates discounted him as a continued threat.

As always, he had the upper hand.

He only had a few loose ends to tie up, and thanks to his
plebian pretense, he’d have that handled very shortly.

Sitting alone in a compact car under a shade tree, the irony
struck him: so many masquerades at work. Rowdy Yates had dodged him by
disguising his sister, and now he’d use that knowledge to kill them both.

Rowdy had cost him a great deal, but today he would pay up—with
nothing less than his life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

R
OWDY
CHECKED
HIS
WATCH
. Very shortly,
Logan and Pepper would be at Dash’s home. He didn’t have much time, but before
he allowed his sister to be taken into police custody—even for her own
protection—he wanted to check out Reese Bareden. The easiest, most expedient way
to do that was to go through his apartment.

On his way into the building he passed a woman heading out with
a dog. Giving away nothing of his purpose, he nodded at her, but she avoided his
gaze, edging away with a tight hold on the dog’s leash. Rowdy glanced back and
saw her heading for the sidewalk.

Dismissing her from his mind, he went up to Reese’s apartment.
There were two doors on that floor, but he saw no one, so he got out his tools
to pick the lock.

“You’d think a cop would know better,” Rowdy whispered as the
lock easily gave way. After checking one more time for curious spectators, he
slipped into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

Detective Bareden was an orderly guy. That made it easier. He
went to the desk and laptop first. He wasn’t a computer expert, and Bareden had
a lot of his online files password protected. But he still found plenty.

On him. On Pepper.

And on Lieutenant Peterson.

“Huh.” Strange. Why all the curiosity about his lieutenant?

Every cop he’d ever known kept a hard copy of his records.
Since he couldn’t quickly access the computer files, he’d look for the paper
trail and hope for the best. Rowdy checked the desk drawers but found only the
usual inside. It appeared Bareden had a healthy savings account, plenty in his
checking, organized receipts.

Nothing that Rowdy could use.

He left the desk and went into the bedroom. He checked both
nightstands without much success and then, on sudden inspiration, removed the
drawers to look behind and under them.

That’s where he found the file—taped inside the nightstand
behind the drawer. He flipped it open, skimmed it quickly, and then not so
quickly.

Sitting on the side of the bed, the file open on his lap, he
read over the lieutenant’s history on the force, her rise in the ranks and her
efforts to clean up corruption.

He also read other, more interesting accounts. Four in total.
It looked pretty damning.

It was not what he’d expected.

The front door opened and closed. On alert, Rowdy considered
the window, or maybe the closet—

As if he’d expected to find Rowdy there, Detective Reese
Bareden strode in. He was armed but had left his gun in his shoulder
holster.

He came right into the bedroom, right up to Rowdy. “Is there a
good reason why I shouldn’t beat you into the ground?”

Whoa. That calm was a surprise. Rowdy took his measure, felt no
real sense of menace and shrugged. “Might not be as easy as you expect.”

“The way I feel right now, I wouldn’t want it to be easy.” But
he rubbed his face as if merely disgusted. “What are you doing here, Rowdy?”

“You know the answer to that already.”

“Right. When it comes to your sister, you don’t take
chances.”

Despite Reese’s lack of real aggression, it seemed prudent to
get to his feet. “I thought you were at the station.”

“And so you felt free to let yourself into my apartment?”

“Something like that.”

He shook his head and propped his shoulder on the wall in his
typical stance. “Alice called me.”

Alice? Who the hell was…the lady with the dog. Damn it. She
hadn’t looked concerned. In fact, Rowdy wasn’t at all sure she’d even noticed
him. “She’s a neighbor?”

He nodded. “She was taking my dog out for a walk, saw you, and
became apprehensive.”

Reese had a dog? He hadn’t counted on that, either. “She must
be a suspicious sort then, because I gave her no reason.”

As if that bothered Reese, he murmured, “Yes, she is. Very much
so.” To clear away that thought, he shook his head. “Luckily for you, she gave
me a detailed description of the
intruder
—otherwise
you might have found yourself staring down the barrel of my weapon.”

So Reese had known it was him? “And…what? You don’t mind me
visiting?”

“You have reason to be extra cautious.” Reese loosened his tie
and opened the top button of his shirt. “And unlike you, I’m not nearly so
mistrustful.”

Rowdy held up the file. “I’d say that’s debatable.”

“You read it?”

“The gist of it, yeah.” Puzzle pieces came together. “Logan
doesn’t know?”

Reese worked his jaw. “I won’t demolish a reputation lightly. I
wanted solid proof before saying anything. A few secretive visits are nothing
more than circumstantial evidence.”

Suddenly Lieutenant Peterson stepped into the room, her gun
already drawn. “Would one of you care to tell me what’s going on here?”

Shit. “Dude, you need an alarm system.”

“Apparently so.” Reese glanced at the lieutenant’s gun.

Rowdy considered his options, but the idea of being caught by
anyone other than Reese hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d known Reese was at the
station, so he thought he’d have time.

He hadn’t counted on his neighbor making that call.

And now the lieutenant had joined them. When the two of them
only shared an accusatory stare, Rowdy asked her, “Why are you here?”

“So I need to go first? Fine.” She motioned for Reese to step
back. “He’s been cagey, secretive. Before bringing you and your sister in, I
thought I’d find out why.” Her gaze went back and forth between the two men. “I
didn’t expect to find you here. Are you working with him, then?”

Rowdy didn’t understand her. “Him who?”

“Reese.” She nodded at the file in his hand. “The two of you
have joined Morton’s ranks?”

Slowly, Rowdy grinned. “That’s what you think? Seriously?”

Reese didn’t see the humor. “I would have loved to be
wrong.”

“You
are
wrong, Detective.” Her
gaze skittered over to him, and her eyes narrowed. “You really believed I’d let
you get away with this? Not likely. I’ve known for weeks that you were up to
something.”

“He’s been following you.” Rowdy fanned the folder in the air.
Because he believed it to be a misunderstanding, he gave her a verbal nudge.
“Detective Bareden thinks you’re the one who’s been cozying up with Morton.”

Her delicate jaw clenched.
“Never.”

“Bullshit.” Reese took a forceful step toward her, drawing her
aim. “You’ve kept your more personal association with Morton under the
radar.”

“What personal association?”

To free up his hands, Rowdy dropped the folder onto the
nightstand. If anyone started shooting, he had to be ready. “It’s all in there,”
he said, hoping to give them a chance to sort out the confusion. “Dates and
times documented.”

Slowly, after an impressive visual standoff, the lieutenant
lowered her gun. “Seriously, Reese? That’s what you’ve been doing?” She curled
her lip in disgust. “All this time you were watching
me?
My God, are you an idiot?”

Reese frowned at her vehemence. “No.”

“The proof says otherwise.” She holstered her gun. “I detest
Morton and his ilk. Yes, I’ve had conversations with the man. But that’s
all.”

“Why would you do that?” Rowdy asked.

“He tried to buy my involvement, and we both know what happens
to those who deny him. So I met with him. He made veiled offers, and I strung
him along. But I gave him
nothing.
”

“Yes, but you were quite charming,” came another voice, “so I
allowed you the ruse.” Morton Andrews stepped into the room. He held a Sig Sauer
9 mm with a silencer attached. Beside him stood another thug, a big, bald,
sweating menace, and equally armed.

“Fuck me sideways,” Rowdy said. “Is there a damned turnstile on
the door now?” Incredible that so many would come trooping in when he’d thought
to be the only one.

“Give it time,” Morton all but purred, “and I can guarantee you
will be fucked in every way imaginable.”

“Is that a come-on or a threat?”

Morton laughed.

He’d done what he could to change his appearance, but Rowdy
would know those cold, dark eyes anywhere. “Gotta tell you, Morton, you look
like shit.”

“It’s temporary.” At his leisure, utterly relaxed, he stood
blocking the bedroom door. He smiled at his cohort—who pointed the gun at
Rowdy—then addressed the lieutenant. “If my business dealings hadn’t gotten so
complicated, I’d have tended to you next.”

At that open threat, Reese tried to step in front of the
lieutenant, but Morton wasn’t having it. “Ah-ah, now. None of that.” He aimed
his gun at Peterson. “Hand over the weapons, slowly. Place them on the floor and
then walk to the other side of the bed. Make one wrong move, and I’ll put a
bullet through her brain.”

Reluctantly, both Peterson and Bareden were forced to hand over
their weapons. Morton used his foot to kick them across the hardwood floor, out
of the bedroom and into the hall. He produced chain-lock handcuffs and tossed
them onto the bed. “How convenient that you have a slatted headboard. Put one
cuff on your wrist, thread the other through the headboard, and then she can
cuff herself to you.”

“On a bed?” Peterson said. “No way.”

Reese gave her a quelling frown. “You wish.”

Morton sighed. “Do it now,” he said as if reciting a boring
litany, “or I shoot her in the head. Your choice.”

“Great. Fucking great.” Reese attached the cuff to his left
wrist, threaded it through, and raised a brow at Peterson.

“I knew you weren’t dead,” Peterson grumbled while attaching
the cuff to her right wrist. They were both forced to sit in the middle of bed,
close together. “It couldn’t be that easy to get rid of you.”

“No, not easy at all. I’m here and I’ll be here long after the
rest of you are gone.”

Both Morton and his man were watching Reese and Peterson. This
might be his only opportunity. Sure, he’d probably get shot, but what did it
matter when that’s exactly what Morton intended anyway?

Masking his hatred, Rowdy started to move, and Morton said,
“Try it, and after I’ve shot you, I’ll rape her. Detective Bareden can
watch.”

Impotent fury brought him to a standstill. Yes, Pepper was his
number one priority, but he couldn’t sacrifice another woman so easily.

Morton smiled again. “So the infamous Rowdy Yates is also a
gentleman? Who knew?”

“Anyone who’d met him,” Peterson said. “That is, anyone not too
dense to see the obvious.”

Reese spoke quickly, probably to keep Morton from reacting.
“How do you expect to get out of here?”

The rage in Morton’s gaze subsided. “Don’t look so hopeful,
Detective. It’s true, I’m not currently in contact with most of my staff, but
hiring a man to guard the entrance of the apartment building was easy enough.
Money talks—you should know that by now, given the cops I’ve bought.”

“Not always,” Peterson told him. “You couldn’t buy me.”

“Ah, but you see, those I can’t buy, I destroy.”

“You still have the traffickers to deal with,” Reese pointed
out. “After the way you tried to cheat them, they’re not feeling real
understanding.”

Peterson rounded on Reese. “You knew about that?”

“Of course.”

Her exaggerated gasp nearly choked her. “But you didn’t see fit
to report it to
me?
”

“I didn’t trust you, if you’ll recall.”

Rowdy could see that Morton disliked losing their attention. He
spoke over them to regain center stage. “I’ll be dealing with the traffickers
next. They believe I’m dead, so they won’t be expecting me when I show up.”

“Show up?” Rowdy asked.

“After I take over, I’ll reestablish myself under an alias and
be more powerful than ever.”

“The traffickers are close enough for you to just drop in,
huh?” If they found the resources to get out of here alive, Rowdy would take
great pleasure in destroying that operation.

Discounting any interference with his plans, Morton said, “They
have absurd accommodations at a ramshackle house down on Third Ave. Filthy,
really. Not at all up to my standards.” He shivered as if repulsed. “I’ll enjoy
killing them all, but not as much as I’ll enjoy killing you.”

Reese said, “He’s not the one who saw you kill Jack Carmin. All
this time, you’ve been chasing the wrong person.”

“Shut up, Reese.” Whatever plan he might be forming, no way in
hell did Rowdy want his sister’s name bandied around in front of Morton.

“Had the incompetent fools questioned the reporter before
cutting his throat,” Morton muttered, “they’d have known it was his sister, not
him, who’d snitched. But no matter. I’m told that Rowdy and Pepper are
inseparable. Find one, you find the other.”

Every muscle in Rowdy’s body went taut. “You won’t get anywhere
near my sister.”

“Actually, men are seeking her right now.”

“You don’t know where she is,” Peterson said. “Even I don’t
know.”

“And you would have told me if you did?” he inquired.

“I would have killed you—when the time was right.”

Rowdy knew he’d find a way to destroy Morton with his bare
hands before he let him get anywhere near Pepper. If he died in the process, so
be it.

* * *

L
OGAN
PULLED
UP
to Reese’s apartment and the
first thing he saw was the woman with the midsize black dog held on a leash. She
looked toward him, and misgivings kicked him in the gut.

“Something’s not right.”

Pepper looked around. “What is it?”

Just inside the front doors, a burly thug loitered. “They’re
here.” He called Dash. Keeping his attention on the area, he said, “Pull up
beside me. When I get out, switch over to my truck and get Pepper away from
here.”

Without question, Dash said, “You’ve got it.” He pulled up
alongside Logan as directed, but Pepper wasn’t so obliging.