A Wicked Seduction (16 page)

Gathering up her notes, she stuffed them into a file folder that also held Michael's picture, a faxed copy of the restraining order he'd violated, as well as all the necessary paperwork she needed to arrest the man for breaching the terms of his bond agreement. Just as she reached for her shoulder holster, Cole walked into her office and came to an abrupt stop when he saw her quick movements as she secured her revolver against her left side.

“Where are you off to?” he asked.

Jo clenched her jaw in annoyance. She didn't need an interrogation from her brother when time was of the essence, but she knew from experience that he'd never let her walk out the door without giving him an explanation. She kept it as succinct as possible. “I'm going to check a lead on the Edwards case.”

Surprise transformed his taut features. “You know where Roseanne's husband is?”

Cole had been there that morning when Roseanne had sought Jo's services, and knew the details of the case. “Possibly,” she replied, treading carefully with her answers. Slipping into her lightweight jean jacket, she adjusted the sides so it concealed her weapon and handcuffs. “I'll have a better answer for you once I verify the information I was given.”

He scowled at her. “The man is said to be armed and dangerous, Jo. I'll have Noah go with you.” He
turned, stuck his head out the door, and before Jo could stop him he yelled down the hall, “Melodie, send Noah into Jo's office immediately.”

Jo felt her temper rise and resisted the urge to pick up the brass paperweight on her desk and pitch it at her brother's thick head. “I don't need or want a baby-sitter, Cole. I can handle this case on my own.” Her tone was adamant, her words succinct.

He didn't seem to notice. “I'm not giving you a choice,” he refuted. “You either take Noah with you, or I take over the case.”

His ultimatum struck her like a physical blow and once again made her all too aware that her brother didn't trust her to handle things on her own.

Noah entered the room on the tail end of Cole's comment, took in the standoff and tension between brother and sister, and frowned. “What's going on?”

Cole waved a hand toward Jo, his expression creased with annoyance. “Jo's following a dangerous lead and she's going to get herself hurt, or worse.”

Her cheeks heated with indignation, and she rounded her desk to close the distance between her and her brothers, feeling the onslaught of a long-overdue battle brewing deep within.

“I'm going to tell you both
exactly
what's going on,” she said, reaching deep inside for the kind of strength and fortitude she hadn't allowed herself to grasp for too long. “I'm tired of being coddled and treated like I don't know the business or what the hell I'm doing.” She pinned Cole with a direct look. “I just went through all this doubt and upheaval from
you with Dean when I wanted you to trust in my instincts. Dean was and is an innocent man, and I was right. Yet here we are having this same conversation, with you questioning what I'm capable of, what I can handle, and if I'll make the right decisions.” Her voice cracked, and she realized that she was just as much at fault for
letting
them overwhelm her with their take-charge personalities. Not anymore. “I've had enough of your overbearing, dominating attitudes.”

Cole looked stunned by her outburst, obviously having no clue how she'd felt, while Noah regarded her with equal measures of surprise and amusement. Neither said a word, and she took advantage of the silence.

“I love you guys,” she said, meaning the heartfelt declaration. “You've done so much for me and you've always been there when I needed you the most. When Mom died you took care of me, and when Dad passed away you both did your best to raise me. But you've also taken that responsibility to the extreme, beyond where it all should have ended when I graduated from college and decided to become a cop.”

“And look at what happened,” Cole said gruffly, referring to Brian's death.

His reference hurt, but she pushed the sting aside, refusing to let anything deter her from this overdue discussion. “How long do you intend to remind me of the mistake I made? I know I screwed up, but I can't dwell on the past forever. I have to trust in my
self and my instincts again and I can't do that if the two of you are constantly trying to shelter me from harm.”

“We just don't want you to get hurt,” Noah tried to explain.

“And I understand that. I really do.” She swallowed the tight knot in her throat so she could finish. “I might not have given either of you much reason to believe in me because of what happened in the past, but there are some things I have to do for myself. And while I'd really appreciate your support, if you can't accept my decisions or trust in my abilities, I can go to work for another agency who will. The choice is yours.”

Cole wasn't at all pleased that she'd managed to turn the ultimatum back to him, yet there was a glimmer of pride in the depth of his eyes that gave Jo hope. “We don't want you going anywhere else,” he said, his tone sincere.

Relief rushed through her, yet she didn't let her victory show. “Then we start compromising.” Which was the basis of any good, solid relationship, she thought, drawing on the advice that a smart older woman had offered her and Dean. “I'll be extra careful when I'm out in the field, and you stop doubting what I'm trained to do and quit smothering me.”

“Fair enough,” Noah said, answering for the two of them.

“Then we have a deal.” She smiled for the first time in days, and grabbed her folder of information
off her desk. “And now, I'm off to check out my lead…on my own.”

This time, no one stopped her, and it was such a liberating feeling to walk out the door without an argument hanging over her head or her brothers' words filling her with doubts and insecurities. Now she had a case to concentrate on, and a little girl to bring home to her worried mother.

She made the drive to Concord in twenty-four minutes, pulled into the shabby motel parking lot where Roseanne's husband had last made a credit card transaction, and brought her vehicle to a stop in front of the registration office. She entered the building and explained to the young clerk behind the desk the urgency of her situation and that she needed Michael Edwards's room number. He resisted at first, citing motel policies, but was ultimately swayed to release the information when she'd let him glimpse her holster and weapon and gave a quick flash of her P.I. badge.

Michael's room was on the second floor, and Jo silently approached the door and listened for sounds or voices. She heard a man's rough voice shouting, his words slightly slurred, followed by a loud thump, and a little girl's painful scream.

A chill slithered through Jo and her heart pumped furiously in her chest. She had to reach Lily, knew the young girl's life was in danger, but Jo also realized that even if she could get Michael to open the door he most likely would keep the safety chain secured so she couldn't get inside. And she wouldn't
risk antagonizing the violent man and possibly have him take his anger out on his daughter any more than he already had.

Frustration and fury swirled within her, and she returned to her vehicle to call for police backup from her cell phone. She was assured that a squad car would be there within fifteen minutes. To Jo, that seemed like an eternity when a little girl's life was at stake.

Just as she disconnected the line with a muttered curse, a small compact car zipped through the parking lot and came to a stop right below Michael's room. The neon sign on the roof of the car indicated pizza delivery, and since the parking lot was near empty of guest vehicles she hoped and prayed that Michael Edwards was the one who'd had a hankering for an Italian meal.

She wasted no time pocketing her Mace and grabbing a wad of cash from her purse, then hopped out of the Suburban and stopped the delivery person as he started up the concrete steps. He was so startled by her sudden appearance that when she asked what room he was making the delivery to, he gave her the number, which matched Michael's.

“I need to deliver that pizza,” she told the teenager.

A skeptical look pinched his features and he shook his head. “I can't let you do that.”

She didn't have time to cajole his cooperation, so she opted for the hard-line approach. “Look, I'm a cop and the man in the room is not only on the run
from the law, but he's prone to violence. Trust me when I say I'm doing you a huge favor by delivering this pizza for you.” Fear lit his pale blue eyes, and she took advantage of his apprehension and retrieved the cardboard box from his grasp, then shoved the bills into his hand. “There's enough to cover the cost of the pizza, plus a huge tip for you.”

He took one look at the money in his hand and decided not to argue further, seemingly figuring he was getting the better end of the deal. He jumped back into his car and hightailed it out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

Not wanting to spare another second, Jo took the stairs two at a time, knocked on Michael's door and announced, “Pizza delivery.”

She heard low muffled sounds and words she couldn't make out, then seconds later locks unbolted and the safety chain slid free from the latch. The door opened a few inches, revealing a burly, unkempt man dressed in boxer shorts and a stained T-shirt. His hair was long and oily from not being washed, and the stench of body order and liquor that slipped up her nostrils nearly made her gag.

Still blocking the door and not allowing her to see inside, he handed her a ten-dollar bill.

She didn't take the cash. “Umm, the total came to eleven seventy-six,” she said, hoping he'd move away to get more money and give her the space she needed to maneuver herself inside.

“Goddamn expensive pizza,” he grumbled and
took two steps to the left to grab something off the nightstand—his wallet.

He fumbled through the bills and she nudged the door open wider to peer beyond the bed dominating the room. Her stomach turned over when she saw the little girl curled up in the corner, her eyes wide with terror and a bruise on her cheek. Her arms were secured behind her back and Michael had taped her mouth shut to keep her quiet. The whole scene was too reminiscent of another time, another place, and Jo's entire body flashed hot, then cold.

Dammit, where were the cops?

She'd come this far and wasn't willing to give up the leverage she'd gained. She focused on the one thought filling her mind, which was saving the little girl. Daringly, she stepped inside the room with the pizza box still in her hands, but Michael blocked her path before she could go any farther.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his face flushing red with the beginning signs of rage.

She looked up at the solidly built man in front of her, and despite the sudden anxiety gripping her she forced a sweet smile. “I'm delivering your pizza, and a little something extra.” Calling on strengths she never even knew she possessed, along with her martial arts training, she planted her foot into his belly and shoved him hard. The breath whooshed out of him and the force of her kick sent him stumbling back into the room, which also gained her full entrance. Tossing the cardboard box onto the bed, she withdrew her can of Mace and aimed it straight at his face.

“Don't move, Michael,” she ordered. “You're under arrest.”

He laughed menacingly, unthreatened by her choice of weapon. Still trying to gulp air into his lungs, he staggered toward a small table. Seeing the revolver resting there that he was after, Jo automatically dropped her Mace and withdrew her gun at the same time he picked up his and pointed it straight at her.

Adrenaline rushed through her blood. She started to sweat and her whole body trembled as old memories washed over her. She blocked the awful recollections the best she could and amazingly enough managed to keep her revolver leveled on Michael's chest.

She chanted the words Dean had left her with and she now drew strength from,
believe in herself. Believe, believe, believe.

Her finger curled around the trigger. “Drop your gun,” she told him, hating the slight quiver that found its way into her voice.

He gripped his pistol tighter, though his aim wasn't at all steady. “My wife has taken everything away from me, and I've got nothing left to lose.” A malicious smile curved the corners of his mouth. “So, you shoot me and I kill the girl.”

Believe, believe, believe,
Jo's mind screamed, knowing the test she was about to face. A test she'd failed before. Before he could fully train his gun on the little girl in the corner, Jo fired off the first shot, the blast of sound deafening in the small room.

Her bullet hit Michael in the right shoulder, knocking him on his backside from the impact. He hit the ground with a hard thud, and the gun in his hand flew across the carpeted floor. She kicked the weapon aside, far out of reach, and unclasped her handcuffs from her holster to restrain him.

Wounded and in pain, Michael didn't have much strength to struggle, and she manacled his wrists and left him lying on his stomach. She hadn't killed him, but she'd saved Lily's life, and that's all that mattered to Jo. She'd leave Michael's fate up to the authorities.

She moved to the little girl and unbound her hands and untaped her mouth. Lily let out a sob and hurled herself into Jo's embrace, wrapping her arms tight around her neck and clinging with all her might. She held the frightened girl and rocked and soothed her with comforting words, her own emotions just as raw.

She'd believed.
And she'd proved to herself, no one else, that she had the internal strength and ability to make right choices and follow through.

She'd fought the good fight here, and now she was ready to confront another fear. Life was too damn short and too uncertain, and she wasn't about to give up the one person who'd given her every reason to believe in herself.