Cat Got Your Tongue? (20 page)

“No.”

“Alex.”

They stared at each other, once again in a deadlock, and Alex was tempted to clam up and leave him in blissful ignorance.

“You’ll let me explain?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t back down. Blissful ignorance might have been the easy way out for her, but Cole would never tolerate it. No, he wanted answers. Now.

“Damn right. Now get in the car.”

****

While the limo made its way back to Cole’s hotel, Alex told him about the renewed interest in the Taylor Museum and gave him the short, glossy version of her conversation with Eddie.

He didn’t go all King Kong on her, but he wasn’t pleased either. He sat against the leather seats of the limo with a fierce expression and tension dripping off him as he waited for her to finish.

“Word on the street is that there are several disgruntled people unhappy about the fact that we’ve shacked up,” she said, not pleased to have her personal life scrutinized in such a way.

“Shacked up as in business or sex?”

“Both.”

“So why would that disgruntle them?”

“Because I’m in the way.”

“Meaning?” Cole raised an eyebrow, his even tone clipped with irritation.

“Both times they broke into your house, I was there. They also know that because of my mother, I have a deeper knowledge of the way they operate and therefore, I’m better able to counteract their moves.” It was the only advantage she had from having a cat burglar as a mother.

Cole nodded. “But I thought you said they don’t touch your clients.”

“They don’t usually.”

“So what’s changed?”

“Apparently what they want from you and what they stand to gain far outweighs any repercussions they might get from me in return.” She remembered the cold shiver that had run through her when Eddie had told her. Alex looked away, inhaling deeply as the familiar feeling of dread settled in her stomach. “Eddie Jones told me to watch your back.”

Cole went rigid. “What do they want from me though?”

“Your Renoir.”

“Then why kill me for it? And the link between the Renoir and the Taylor museum? What’s that got to do with anything?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but there’s something to be said for the timing of all this. The Renoir was at the museum when it was robbed fifteen years ago. And now, all these years later, they’re after the painting at the same time there’s renewed talk of the missing paintings from the museum. I’m willing to bet a month’s salary that the Monet was at the museum that night too.”

“So they’re moving in on your territory,” he said, his agitation mounting. “That can’t be good.”

Alex felt a headache coming on. “No, Cole. Stomping all over my turf changes the way I’ve worked for years. I’ve always managed to keep a fine line between them and me and somehow maintain a relationship with my mother—whilst still remaining within the grey area of the law.”

“A very shady grey area,” he grunted. “So your ego’s hurt.”

Alex’s jaw fell. “It has nothing to do with my ego, you jerk.”

“You’re mad because with them moving in on your turf, they’re forcing you to choose sides. You’re going to have to choose if you’re one of the good guys or one of the bad guys.” He gave a laugh of disbelief. “You don’t get to sit on the fence anymore and that’s what’s got you riled.”

“That’s unfair,” Alex said, but knew he had just defined what she’d been refusing to.

“Have you thought…?” His voice trailed off, his expression twisting with a brief flash of confusion as he stared through the window behind her. “Get down!” he shouted, reaching for her.

The car hit them with a deafening crash, the impact flinging Alex against Cole like a limp rag doll. The limo spiraled out of control and confusion reigned as the car spun around and drew to a stop.

“Oh, my God,” Alex gasped and tried to sit up. She winced and touched her head.

“Are you okay?” Cole asked, quickly assessing her, seemingly unperturbed by the bleeding gash on his forehead.

“I hit my head but I’m fine. What the hell was that?”

Cole turned in his seat, searching through the windows. “A damn car came straight for us and somehow, I doubt it was an accident.”

Alex followed his gaze and felt her world shift. An intimidating solid black Hummer with a gleaming wrap-around bull bar guard was in the process of turning around to face them, the impact having turned their car in the opposite direction. Oh, crap.

She jabbed at the button to retract the privacy window and slapped a hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Warren, forget everything they ever taught you at limo school. These guys are after your boss and are meaner than him with a bigger car and a scary looking bull bar.” Her tone was even but edged with urgency, and Warren nodded. He straightened, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “You just drive and I’ll tell you where to go.”

The car shot off as the Hummer fell in line behind them and Alex collapsed in her seat, looking out the back window.

“Who are they?” Cole growled, glaring at the car tailing them.

“No idea. But I’d say they were sent by the same person who sent the others.” Her mind scrambled for a plan and she moved forward to the edge of her seat, groping for her phone.

Their bodies jerked forward as the Hummer hit them from behind with a force that suggested their attackers were not fooling around. The sound of the impact, breaking glass, and screeching tires was deafening and Alex had to shout to be heard.

“Warren! Just keep going. No matter what happens, don’t you dare stop the car!” Alex said, punching in a number on her phone.

Cole’s eyes flickered between the Hummer and her phone. “Who are you calling?”

Alex ignored him and dialed the security manager who worked at Max’s office. “Winston!” Alex said into the phone. “I have a client in trouble and I’m going to be making a drop at Max’s office in a few minutes.” Without waiting for a response, she belted out further instructions. “Back door, have it open and close it the minute we’re in. My partners will be there soon.”

The Hummer had fallen back several cars behind them and Alex wondered if they were backing down, satisfied with the message they’d delivered. She took in her surroundings, trying to determine their location.

“Stay on the line,” she told Winston and tilted the phone away from her mouth. “Warren, there’s a slipway coming up that will take us to Max’s office.” She returned to the phone. “We’ll be there in five minutes, so be ready. Yes, just as we rehearsed for Max.” She ended the call and looked at Cole.

“What the hell are you doing, Alex?” Cole asked through gritted teeth, dark eyes searing into hers.

“I can’t explain now,” she replied, already punching speed dial on her phone. “I need you to trust me.”

Cole cursed and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t have to do this alone. I refuse to sit back and—”

“Remember when I said that sex would complicate things between us?” she interrupted, yanking her wrist out of his grip. “Well, this is complicated. You have no choice but to back off and let me get us out of this.”

“Dammit, Alex—”

“I’ve been trained for this, Cole, and I know what I’m doing so you have to let me do the job you’re paying me for.” Alex shoved him away and put the phone to her ear. Dan was on the line and had no doubt heard their exchange of words. “Dan! We have a car crusader. A black Hummer. Can you guys do a pick up at Max’s office? ETA in five minutes. You know the drill.” She hung up the phone, slid to the edge of her seat, and barked several instructions to Warren.

“Alex, where the hell are we going?” Cole demanded.

“You’re going to Max’s office.”

Cole shot forward, grabbing her shoulders. “Not without you, I’m not.”

Now was not the time for that conversation. “You have no choice. I’m trying to keep us alive.”

“There’s no chance in hell I’m going to let you dump me to play a Charlie’s Angel.”

“This isn’t a game, you ass.” She should have known he’d never let her go. “Fine,” she said, pushing him away.

She cursed when she saw the Hummer still tailing them. They might have backed down but they weren’t going away. It was time to lose them. Now. “Warren, you ready for some sharp turns?”

“Ready as ever. Hold on to your bootlaces,” Warren replied and maneuvered the limo around the next corner so sharply that the tires screeched. The limo sped faster, turning another corner, and Warren sped along, handling the car with surprising ease.

Several harsh twist and turns later, there was no sight of the Hummer.

“Warren!” Alex yelled above the noise of the screeching tires. “Max’s building is coming up so head for the service door. My door’s busted from the impact so make sure you pull up against the curb on your side for an easier exit.” Alex looked through the front window, relieved to see Winston waiting outside. “As soon as the car stops, we all head through the door and it will be locked on closing.”

A moment later, the black limo pulled to an abrupt and screeching stop.

“Alex,” Cole growled, grabbing her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“Yes. Just go, you’re blocking the exit. I’m right behind you.” Alex waved a hand at him to move so she could follow. Cole and Warren bundled out of the car, Alex straight behind them.

“Alex!” Cole shouted, immediately turning back for her but Winston stepped forward, his large bulk ushering Cole through the security door. With a brief nod at Alex, Winston closed the door, locking Alex outside.

Despite the thickness of the door, Alex could hear Cole shouting at her from the other side. Tricking him had been unfair, but his safety was her concern, her job, and it came first.

Without wasting time, she leapt into the driver’s seat of the limo.

With a quick glance in her rearview mirror, Alex stepped on the gas, grateful there was no sight of the black car. By the time she turned the next corner, the Hummer was back on her tail and unaware their intended mark was no longer in the limo.

She reached for her phone and redialed. “Dan! Where are you?”

“Alex, thank God. Where the hell are you?” Dan’s voice sounded choppy, as though he’d been running.

“In Cole’s limo. The drop off’s done. I’m still being tailed, but I don’t think they saw the stop.” Thanks to the afternoon traffic, the Hummer had fallen further behind.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Black windows. The limo’s a mess.” Her gaze flickered from one side of the street to the other in search of a parking garage.

“Where’re you headed?”

Alex saw her opening and readied herself for the abrupt turn, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “I have to go. I’ll call you later. Good luck with the irate shield.”

She flung the phone on the seat beside her, grabbed hold of the steering wheel with both hands and took the next corner.

A quick glance in her rearview mirror told her she’d managed to shrug off her attackers and she eased the wrecked limo into a parking garage.

She pulled to a stop on the third floor, grabbed her bag, and bolted toward the closest exit.

Monday evening

When Eddie Jones yanked open his kitchen door, he seemed relieved to see Alex—a surprising change to his usual brusque and impatient attitude toward her.

“You look like shit,” he grumbled, the attitude returning in a flash. He frowned at her messy hair and bloodied appearance, grabbed her arm, and hauled her inside. “Get in here before someone sees you, dammit.”

“Great way to greet a guest,” Alex said, heading straight for the fridge.

“You ain’t exactly a house guest, Alex. And making a habit of coming here’s gonna get us both in trouble.”

“No one saw me, Eddie.”

“What the hell happened to you?”

She handed him a beer and reached for a second one. “Someone tried to take down my shield.” Either that or serve a clear warning.

He gaped at her. “Shit, so soon?”

Alex’s beer froze mid air and she lifted her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour.”

“I lost my phone.” She’d thought of everything else but forgotten her phone on the seat in the limo. She fixed Eddie with a suspicious stare. “Why? What do you know?”

Eddie started pacing the kitchen floor, a grim expression on his pudgy face. “What the hell have you been up to, Alex? You’ve ticked off some really big asses.”

Alex drew in a sharp breath. If she had claws, they’d be protruding. “Like?”

“I’ve no clue.”

“Then how do you know I’ve ticked them off if you can’t tell me who they are?”

Eddie glanced at her. “Shit, they came after you tonight?”

“They’re after my shield. Or his stupid painting. I’m not sure which.” Alex took a long swallow of her beer, thirsty after the ride she’d just had, and looked at Eddie. “How do you know I’ve ticked someone off?”

“Word is out that you’re a royal pain in the ass. What have you done?”

Alex frowned. “Protecting my shield and asking all the right questions in all the right places. Three attempts in a little over a week. That’s got to be a record.”

“Well, you’re screwing with someone’s shit barometer,” he mumbled, running his fingers across his smooth head. “What you been fishing at?”

“After you told me about the renewed interest in the Taylor Museum last week, I went to the museum to check it out.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Cole and I discovered that his Renoir was at the museum the day before the heist.”

Eddie tilted his head. “And?”

“Well, I find it odd that there’s suddenly a renewed interest in the museum and that someone is after paintings with the same value of the paintings that were stolen from the museum. Someone broke into Cole’s house to steal the Renoir and almost killed him. Then they returned to start a fire and today, they tried to Hummer-smash him into oblivion. It’s all related and it’s all about those missing paintings. You know it. I know it. What I want to know though is why they’re after my shield? Why not just take the damn Renoir and leave him alone?”

Something about Eddie’s silence, his expression, had her stop and take notice. A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. Alex set her beer on the kitchen counter and turned to face him, her hands on her hips.