“I know it was you,” Mia said. “You killed your husband and now you’re trying to kill me.”
“I told you, it was your father and Tony who murdered Paul,” Vicky called out, leaning to the side as if trying to get a glimpse of Mia.
Or an open shot.
“I saw the pictures,” Mia informed the woman.
There was a short pause, as if Mia had managed to catch the older woman off guard.
“Of course you did,” Vicky at last said. “I showed them to you.”
“Not those pictures.” Mia glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one was sneaking up from behind. “I’m talking about the ones that show you kneeling beside your husband’s body to make sure he’s dead.”
Even from a distance, she could hear Vicky’s muttered curse of disbelief. “That’s impossible,” she at last said.
Mia shivered. Vicky had seen the snapshots. No doubt her father had included them when he’d given her the others.
“Did you forget to share those photos with me?” Mia demanded. “Or did you destroy your copies?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think George Ramon had the brains to keep the pictures,” Vicky at last admitted.
Mia frowned. She’d assumed Vicky had followed them to the remote property because she knew her father had evidence she was involved in the murder of her husband.
Now she didn’t have any idea why the woman had tried to burn them in the shed. Or seemed determined to lure Mia out in the open so she could shoot her.
“Clearly you underestimated my father,” she taunted.
“Your father was a cowardly drunk who peeked through windows and lurked in the shadows. If it hadn’t been for Tony, I would never have allowed him on my property.”
Mia squashed her flare of anger. The woman was hoping to provoke her into doing something stupid.
“He managed to outsmart you,” she instead taunted.
“Even fools get lucky once in a while,” Vicky snapped.
Lucky. Mia stiffened, struck by a sudden realization.
Vicky was right. It’d been hard to imagine that her father would have been waiting in the bushes with a camera to take pictures of the murder. Now she abruptly recalled that he occasionally used a disposable camera to photograph a few of the gardens he worked on, for new brochures or to show potential clients.
It was quite possible that it’d been nothing more than a coincidence for her father to be at Vicky’s mansion with a camera on the day of the murder.
Mia grimaced. It still troubled her that her father hadn’t gone to the authorities with the photos, but George Ramon had been fiercely suspicious of anyone connected to the government. And, as painful as it might be to admit, her father wasn’t above taking advantage of a situation.
“I don’t consider it luck that he was forced to witness you murdering your husband,” she said.
Vicky’s short, humorless laugh echoed through the thick silence that shrouded the area. “He managed to make a small fortune off that murder.”
Mia ignored the insult. Her father was dead. Nothing could hurt him now.
She was far more concerned with Lucas. The fire was out, but the shed had been filled with smoke. Was it enough to hurt him?
And where the hell was Max? He’d promised to keep an eye on Vicky. Surely he couldn’t be far behind her?
“What about Tony? Did you pay him off?” Mia demanded, sensing the woman’s growing impatience. Soon she was going to decide that she was done talking.
“Tony was in love with me,” Vicky drawled. “He would do anything I asked.”
Mia flinched. There were many reasons to hate the older woman, but the top of the list was the way she’d used and abused a young, vulnerable boy.
“Not anything,” Mia said with utter confidence. It was now obvious there was no mysterious drug cartel demanding her death. It’d been Vicky Fontaine who wanted her dead, and she’d done her best to try and manipulate Tony into doing the dirty deed. The older woman had clearly overestimated her power over her lover. Or perhaps she’d just underestimated Tony’s loyalty to his friend. “He wouldn’t kill me.”
Mia’s words clearly hit a raw nerve.
“I’m done with this,” Vicky snarled, her shadow moving as she lifted her arm. “Show yourself.”
Mia made a sound of disbelief. Was the woman so arrogant that she believed she could toss out orders and have them instantly obeyed?
“I don’t think so.”
Without warning there was the sound of gunshots. Mia instinctively crouched down, covering her head as she pressed against the shed. It wasn’t until the loud blasts stopped that she sucked in a deep breath and glanced around the corner.
She half expected to see Vicky running in her direction. Instead she was still standing in the shadows of the cypresses, her gun pointed at the shed.
What was the woman doing? Either she was a terrible shot or she . . .
Mia’s breath suddenly tangled in her throat, her heart forgetting to beat as she leaned far enough to catch a glimpse of the small holes in the side of the shed.
The bitch hadn’t been shooting at Mia. She’d been firing bullets through the rotted planks of the shed.
“Stop,” Mia called out, her voice high with fear.
“Afraid I’m going to kill your precious Lucas?” the older woman mocked, firing more bullets into the shed. “Come out or I’ll keep shooting until your lover is dead.”
“You’re crazy,” Mia cried, pressing her ear to the rough wooden plank, trying to hear Lucas.
Had he been overcome with smoke? Hit by a bullet?
“I’m not crazy, just tired of trying to kill you,” Vicky corrected her, the scrape of metal warning Mia that she was reloading her gun.
“You tried to run me off the road,” Mia said, dropping to the ground as she crawled toward a nearby barrel. Vicky was right about one thing. Enough was enough. She had to end this before the woman managed to hurt Lucas. First, however, she needed a better angle. “And you put the drugs in my coffee.”
“Yes. But you refused to die.” The older woman’s voice held disgust for Mia’s refusal to bite the dust. “This time I’m not leaving until I’m certain you’re dead.”
Mia shook her head. The woman really was crazy.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m dead or not,” she warned, her fingers tightening on the gun in her hand. “Lucas’s partners already know about the pictures.” Mia didn’t bother to share the fact they hadn’t been able to tell Max they had proof that Vicky was involved. “It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late. Once I’m done with you and Lucas, I’ll get rid of the pictures.” There was a hint of panic in Vicky’s voice, the sound of her approaching footsteps making Mia tense with determination. “Without evidence no one can prove that Paul is dead. And they certainly can’t pin the blame on me.”
“It’s over, Vicky,” Mia prodded. “Give it up.”
“No.” Vicky continued to move forward. “I won’t let you destroy me.”
Reaching the back of the shed, the older woman shot toward the dark shadows where Mia had so recently been huddled.
Mia’s mouth went dry.
This was it.
Now or never.
Squashing her instinctive horror at deliberately harming another human being, she rose to her feet and aimed her gun. Then, as Vicky turned to shoot her, Mia squeezed the trigger.
There was an explosive flash of light from the muzzle of her gun, followed by a recoil of energy that jerked her arm back. Mia hurriedly bent low as she prepared for Vicky to return fire.
Instead there was a sharp cry of pain as Vicky toppled forward, landing on the muddy ground with an audible thud.
Clutching her gun in a tight grip, Mia inched her way around the barrel. She half expected Vicky to leap to her feet and start shooting. Instead she remained unmoving as Mia made a wide circle around the corner of the shed. Once out of sight of the woman, Mia darted toward the front of the
small structure to discover a crowbar had been wedged between the door and the jamb.
It was no wonder they hadn’t been able to get out.
Now she hurried forward, grabbing the bar and tugging with all her might. The slick metal made it almost impossible to get a good grip with one hand, but she wasn’t willing to put away her gun. Not when Vicky might rise from the mud like a vampire and try to finish what she’d started.
Giving one last tug, the crowbar at last came free, slipping through her hand as the door swung open.
Swiftly stepping into the shed, it took a minute for her eyes to become accustomed to the thick gloom. Inching her way forward, she at last caught sight of Lucas’s body stretched on the wood-planked floor.
“Oh my God, Lucas.”
Dropping to her knees, Mia reached to carefully turn him onto his back. His low groan assured her that he was still alive, but that didn’t ease her panic. It was too dark to see if he’d been seriously injured.
“Lucas,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his forehead as she tried to clear the fog of panic from her mind.
She could have a breakdown later. Right now Lucas needed her.
Concentrating on the best way to get Lucas out of the shed and into the SUV, Mia nearly missed the sound of a branch cracking as someone neared the shed.
With a surge of adrenaline she was on her feet, the gun pointed toward the open doorway.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” she warned.
“Mia, it’s me,” a male voice called out. “Max.”
“Oh, thank God,” Mia breathed, her knees going weak as the large man cautiously stepped into the shed. “Lucas is hurt.”
Using the flashlight on his phone, Max swept it over Lucas’s body. “I don’t see any blood,” he reassured Mia, bending down to place his fingers against Lucas’s throat. “And his pulse is strong.”
Mia bit her lower lip, relief searing through her. “He must have been knocked out from the smoke.”
Max straightened, reaching out to gently take the gun from her shaky hand. “He’s going to be fine.”
She nodded, wondering why she couldn’t stop shaking. Was she in shock?
“Vicky—” She started to warn Max, only to bite off her words when he held up his hand.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “Detective Cooper has her cuffed.”
A combination of relief and smoldering frustration churned through her. She wanted to be sure the older woman could never again try to hurt her. But at the same time, she really didn’t want to live with the knowledge she’d killed a woman. Even if it was in self-defense.
“She’s alive?” she demanded.
Max grimaced. Clearly he wasn’t torn. “Unfortunately. The bullet went through her shoulder. Cooper called for an ambulance.”
Mia nodded, wrapping her arms around her waist. She felt chilled to the bone.
“Vicky killed her husband,” she managed to say between chattering teeth. “Or at least, she convinced Tony to kill him.”
“We know.” Pulling off his jacket, Max wrapped it around her shivering body. “The detective parked down the road so we could sneak up without alerting Vicky. We heard everything.”
She blinked, her fear easing as she heard the whine of sirens as the ambulance raced down the road.
“It’s over?”
Max nodded. “Yeah, it’s over.”
As if capable of hearing their words, Lucas heaved a soft sigh. “Mia,” he breathed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucas had had enough.
He’d spent the night in the hospital to ease Mia’s concern that he wasn’t suffering any lingering effects from the smoke he’d inhaled. But now the sun was up and his patience was at an end.
He’d nearly lost Mia yesterday. He needed to have her in his arms.
Coming out of the bathroom attached to his private hospital room, he ignored the older nurse who was glaring at him. He was showered and dressed in the black slacks and white shirt that Max had dropped by last night. Now he grabbed his few belongings and shoved them into a small leather bag.
Bustling around like a fly who couldn’t decide where to land, the nurse at last reached to take his bag forcibly from his hand. “Mr. St. Clair, I must insist that you get back in your bed,” she muttered. “You haven’t been officially released.”
Lucas planted his fists on his hips. Usually he preferred to use his skills at negotiation to get his way. He’d been born with position, money, and power. Then he’d been trained to become physically superior to most people. It would have been easy to evolve into an arrogant bully.
Today, however, he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. Not when he didn’t know where Mia was, or why she hadn’t come to see him.
“You can insist all you want, but I’m getting out of here,” he growled. “Tell the doctor to get his ass in gear so he can sign me out.”
The nurse pressed her lips together, looking as if she wanted to put him across her knee and give him a good spanking.
“The doctor is very busy.”
Lucas reached to snatch the bag out of her hand. “Then I’ll leave without his approval.”
“Let me handle this.” A soft voice interrupted the brewing argument and Lucas swiftly turned to watch as Mia stepped into the room.
Instantly the tension that felt like steel bands wrapped around his chest eased. His gaze ran a greedy path over her beautiful face, which was framed by the dark curls left free to tumble over her shoulders. He allowed his attention to stray lower, taking in the cherry-red sweater and the faded jeans that hugged her lush curves with mouthwatering perfection.
The nurse gave a loud sniff. “He is very stubborn.”
Mia’s lips twitched. “Yeah, I know.”
“Just hit the buzzer if you need me,” the nurse said as she conceded defeat and headed out the door.
Mia shook her head. “The poor woman is just trying to do her job,” she softly chided. “And you were supposed to stay in bed until the doctor is sure you’re not going to have a reaction to the smoke you inhaled.”
Lucas tossed his bag on a nearby chair as he strolled forward, framing her face in his hands. “I wanted to find you.”
She stilled, sensing the smoldering frustration that had forced him from his bed despite the nurse’s shrill protests.
“I promised I was coming to pick you up this morning,” she said.
“I know, but . . .” His words trailed away as he realized where they were.
Mia frowned. “What?”
He heaved a resigned sigh. The sterile hospital room wasn’t the setting where he’d planned to share his most intimate desires, but he didn’t want to wait.
He’d wasted fifteen years. He wasn’t wasting another second.
“I was afraid you would disappear,” he admitted with blunt honesty.
“Disappear?” She looked confused. “Why would I do that?”
He gave a lift of his shoulder. He’d tossed and turned all night, terrified that he was too late for a second chance with this woman.
“It’s what I did to you. Now I know how you must have felt.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks as he savored the feel of her satiny skin. “The thought that you might walk away and leave me behind . . .” He sucked in a deep breath, a shudder of horror racing through him. “It’s unbearable.”
She reached up to place her hands against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Lucas.”
“Neither am I,” he swore, holding her gaze. “I called Hauk this morning.”
“Why?”
“I told him that I was leaving ARES.”
“Leaving ARES?” Her lips parted, her eyes darkening with shock. “I don’t understand.”
Neither had Hauk. The man had refused to accept Lucas’s resignation, at first pleading for him to reconsider, before he was ordering him to return to Houston so they could talk in person.
“Your life and business is here,” he said. “So this is where I want to be.”
>
Her expression softened, but before she could respond, the door was pushed open and Max strolled into the room.
He was wearing a leather coat over his gray suit and his hair was ruffled from the stiff breeze. He brought with him the scent of fresh air that Lucas longed to breathe.
He’d had enough of the stench of disinfectant to last a lifetime.
Max silently took in the sight of Lucas wrapping a possessive arm around Mia’s shoulder before he glanced toward the bag already packed and waiting on the chair. “I can’t believe you’re still here,” he said in way of greeting.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”
Lucas smiled. Max knew him well enough to suspect he wasn’t going to wait for some damned doctor to tell him when he could leave. “Have you talked to Detective Cooper?” he demanded.
When Lucas had awakened in the hospital it’d been Max who’d told him Vicky had been arrested, and that the authorities had the evidence that George Ramon had kept locked in the silver case.
He’d also promised he would keep them updated on what was happening with Vicky Fontaine.
The younger man gave a dip of his head. “I did.”
Lucas tugged Mia closer, knowing this was going to be difficult for her.
“Did he let you listen to the tape?”
Max grimaced. “After some convincing.”
Lucas wondered exactly what convincing Max had been forced to use. But before he could ask, Mia was asking the question that’d no doubt been preying on her mind.
“Was it my father’s?”
“It was,” Max said, his tone gentle.
“What did he say?” Mia asked.
“He talked about witnessing Tony shoot Paul Fontaine and Vicky helping to load the body in the back of a black Mercedes.” Max met Lucas’s narrowed gaze. “He also claims that he saw them with stacks of money that Vicky hid in a large bag.”
Lucas arched a brow. “So Paul did have the two million.”
“Yeah.” Max nodded. “Seems like she decided to kill two birds with one stone. She got rid of her unwanted husband and got a fortune to continue to live in the style she assumed she deserved.”
So had Vicky convinced her husband to embezzle the millions of dollars over the years? Or had she taken advantage when she caught sight of him with the last two million in cash he managed to squeeze out of the accounts before he was murdered?