Flash of Death (7 page)

She set his water down on the glass coffee table in front of him. He picked it up and sipped at it without comment. At a loss for anything else to do, she sat down on the matching chair across from him. “Thank you for rescuing me...again,” she started stiffly.

“My pleasure. But let’s not make this a habit, eh?”

Her gaze snapped up to his. “Do you have reason to believe there will be more occasions in which I need saving?”

“Yes, actually. I do. And we need to talk about that.”

She stared at him. “You think the SUV in Denver and that mugger are related? Wow. And I thought I was paranoid.”

“You have an enemy, Chloe. And he or she could be rich and powerful. Given the frequency and violence of these attacks, that person is very angry at you.”

She frowned. “But this is my first real gig as a forensic accountant. And I haven’t found anything that could convict Paradeo’s senior executives, yet.”

“That doesn’t negate the fact that you’re the person who could uncover the evidence to put them in jail.”

“If not me, someone else would do it.”

“Still, you have no business strolling around a big city like this at night, alone, enemies or no enemies.”

“What business is it of yours how I live my life, anyway? It’s my life.”

“True. But your sister loves you a great deal. She’d be devastated if anything happened to you.”

That was a low blow, invoking her sister. “And why do you give a darn about Sunny’s state of mind?” she snapped.

“Why
don’t
you?” he shot back.

She recoiled, offended. “I think you should leave. Now.”

“Sorry. I’m not done talking, and you really need to hear what I have to say,” he retorted grimly.

She gauged the distance to the phone on her kitchen counter. She would never make it across the living room and get 911 dialed before he reached her. She’d seen his reflexes firsthand in the alley, and although she was pretty out of it after her head hit the wall, he had moved in a blur of speed.

He shoved a hand through his hair. A pang of memory, of the lust provoked by that hand on her body, speared through her. Fine. She admitted it. He was still as handsome as ever. And sexy, darn him. And his smile was still as charming when he said, “This conversation got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Her eyes narrowed skeptically, but she made no comment. He could talk all he wanted. It was his breath to waste.

“Sunny married my good friend and colleague, and that makes her family. Which, by extension, makes you family, too. If for no other reason than that, I would be concerned for your safety. Additionally, in spite of what you seem to think, I consider you and I to have a...connection...after Saturday night.”

“Do not
ever
speak of that again,” she gritted out from behind abruptly clenched teeth.

He frowned as if he’d like to argue the point with her, but then continued plowing through whatever twisted logic he was pursuing. “The fact remains that I am worried about your safety. And so is Jeff Winston. He asked me to keep an eye on you until we can figure out who’s trying to—” he paused as if stopping himself from saying something too revealing “—who might be trying to harm you,” he finished lamely.

“Harm me?” she exclaimed.

“You said yourself that the SUV in Denver came out of nowhere. I heard its engine gun. And there were no skid marks, Chloe. That vehicle was accelerating toward you.”

She shrugged. “The driver probably didn’t see me.”

He leaned forward, his intense silver gaze altogether too sexy and distracting. “Then why didn’t he stop or even slow down when he nearly hit you? I guarantee you, had I not knocked you out of the way, he would have hit you, and you would have died.”

“Are you implying that the driver was trying to kill me?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you outright that’s how it is.” He leaned back once more in a casual sprawl across her sofa that left her abruptly short on oxygen. Did he have to be so blessed attractive?

“That’s crazy,” she declared forcefully.

He sighed. “I figured you’d feel that way. I was hoping not to have this conversation until I had solid proof. But that guy in the alley forced my hand.”

“So you were planning to follow me around without my knowledge and spy on me indefinitely while you gathered this hypothetical proof?”

Chagrin crossed his features, but then a cajoling twinkle in his eyes took over, making him look even more boyish than ever. “I’m not spying on you. Think of it as me providing security. Good thing, too. Who knows what that jerk in the alley would have done to you if I hadn’t been there.”

“I’d have gotten his hand off my mouth and screamed my head off, and someone would have come to the rescue.”

Trent snorted. “That guy was a lot bigger and stronger than you. Don’t kid yourself. He’d have done exactly what he wanted to with you long before the police could come to the rescue, no matter how fast they responded.”

A chill chattered down her spine. Was Trent right? Had she really come that close to disaster? Surely not. She announced, “I don’t buy your conspiracy theory. Muggings are an everyday occurrence in big cities. And as for that car in Denver, the driver had probably been drinking and didn’t want to stick around in case I called the cops on him.”

“You’re determined not to believe me, aren’t you?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m going to keep digging until I get the proof I need to convince you.”

Crud! She really didn’t need him following her around and tipping off Herrera and his cronies that something was odd about her. Trent would totally mess up her investigation if he persisted with this little delusion of his.

The first order of business was to get rid of him and his boyish smile and magnetic charm. The second was to call his boss and have a chat with the man. Jeff Winston struck her as eminently reasonable. He would call off this obsessive lackey. “Fine. Whatever. Please leave and don’t bother me again.”

“Bother you? I’m trying to save your life!”

“Whatever makes you feel like a hero. Just keep your distance from me or I’ll call the police.”

He opened his mouth. Shut it. Stood up. Took a single step toward the door, then turned to face her. “For the record, my being here has nothing whatsoever to do with Saturday night. I’ve had hot lays before and I’ve never followed any of them around to save them from their own misguided ignorance.”

Her jaw dropped in outrage, but before she could gather herself to tell him in no uncertain terms what a giant jackass he was, he was out the door. Dang, that man could move fast.

So furious she nearly flung his glass of water across the room, she squeezed her fingers into fists until they hurt. How did Trent keep getting under her skin? Call her ignorant, would he? She definitely hated him. Passionately.

Yup, the man had passion down to a fine science. And as memory of the things he’d done with her flashed through her mind, she groaned with a different kind of passion. The man was as irritating as sand between her toes.

Not about to waste another minute on him, she picked up her phone and dialed Jeff Winston’s number.

“Winston Ops. Go ahead.”

“This is Chloe Jordan. I’d like to speak to Jeff Winston, please.”

“One moment, please” the smooth female voice said, “while I check to see if he can take your call.”

While she waited for the secretary or whoever it was to return to the line, she opened up the laptop on her counter and typed in Jeff Winston’s name. She was till absorbing the shock of the long list of companies he and his grandfather owned and the total cash value it represented when the female voice returned. “One moment for Mr. Winston.”

“Hi, Chloe. This is Jeff. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Except I have a little problem with an employee of yours. This may sound strange, but I think he’s stalking me.”

“Are we talking about Trent Hollings?”

“Yes. Does he have a history of this sort of behavior?” she asked in relief.

Jeff laughed. “Hardly. Women chase him like crazy, but he never gives them the time of day.”

“Well, he’s following me.”

“I know. I told him to.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sunny is family now, and so are you. I sent Trent to keep an eye on you until we can figure out who might want to, umm, bother you.”

“You mean kill me?” she retorted.

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he demurred with patent insincerity. Jeff Winston obviously believed someone was out to kill her, too. She tuned back in to what he was saying.

“...wouldn’t want to unduly alarm you, Chloe. But my people pulled footage from a traffic camera in Denver, and that SUV appeared to be targeting you specifically,” he finished delicately.

“It was a fluke. Or the driver mistook me for his ex-wife, or he didn’t see me. I don’t know what Trent thinks he saw, but the man’s delusional.”

Jeff replied gently, “The vehicle idled with its engine running for nearly an hour in its parking spot. But the moment you exited the club, it pulled out into the street. It waited in place for you to start across. When you did, it accelerated directly at you. I hate to alarm you, but Trent wasn’t mistaken.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Look. He’ll stay out of your way. I can put a full surveillance team on you if you’d like, but I thought you might be more comfortable having someone you know do the job. Plus, Trent will be a little more unobtrusive than a large team of operatives.”

She swore mentally. An entire team of security men trailing her around was the
last
thing she needed. No way would Herrera miss something that obvious. And if this hypothetical security team was as ham-handed as Trent in its approach, it would surely succeed in wrecking her case and maybe getting her killed. Like it or not, Trent Hollings was the lesser of two evils.

“Really, Jeff. I don’t need any protection. I’ll be just fine.” God, why couldn’t her life ever be normal?

“With all due respect, Chloe, I’m not convinced. Tell you what. If Trent watches you for a couple of weeks and there are no more incidents, I’ll pull him off the job and never bug you again.”

It wasn’t a great compromise, but it was better than nothing. And as long as Trent kept his distance, she supposed she could tolerate a few weeks of knowing he was watching her. Although the mere notion of him checking out her every move sent shivers through her.
Yeah, but what kind of shivers?
A little voice murmured in the back of her head.

Not
those
kind! she shouted back at herself. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Two weeks. And then he’s out of here.”

“Deal. Pleasure doing business with you, Chloe.”

Was that laughter in his voice? Why did she suddenly feel like she’d played right into his hands? Nope, she didn’t like Jeff Winston much more than his incredibly annoying employee.

Chapter 4

C
hloe spent the remainder of the evening making multiple copies of all the files on Barry’s flash drive. She burned them to a CD, saved them to her online file storage account and, most importantly, forwarded them to Don Fratello. He couldn’t read even the simplest financial statement and would expect her to do the heavy lifting in analyzing the files, but this way the FBI had a backup copy. And their computers were super secure.

She took a cursory glance at the files, and it looked like Barry had grabbed a complete record of Paradeo’s activities for the past several years. It would take days or even weeks to plow through all the information, but if there was a money trail buried in here, she would find it.

The physical stress of travel and the emotional stress of being attacked had exhausted her, though, and eager as she was to dig into Barry’s files, she turned in early. Her professors always stressed that a case like this was a marathon, not a sprint. She had to pace herself if she wanted to stay sharp.

The next morning, she stumbled through her usual routine by rote, showering, dressing and eating breakfast with blessed normalcy. She kept a sharp eye peeled for Trent as she headed for work but never spotted him. She didn’t know which was creepier: seeing him following her or not seeing him at all. At least he was keeping up Jeff’s end of the bargain and staying out of her way. She made her way to Paradeo’s offices on the fifth floor of a downtown office building and spent most of the morning digging through the minor crises that had piled up on her desk in her absence.

It was nearly 11:00 a.m. before she was able to make her way past Barry’s cubicle without being obvious about it. She poked her head in to thank him for the gift and to give him a quick thumbs-up regarding the completeness of the content. But when she looked around the corner, he wasn’t at his desk. His computer was turned off and no papers cluttered his desk. Which was strange, come to think of it. His desk was normally messy enough that she had to restrain an urge to straighten it.

She asked his supervisor in the cubby next door, “Have you seen Barry, today?”

“No. He didn’t come in to work. And,” the woman added tartly, “he didn’t call me to tell me he was sick, either.”

“Okay. I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.” Something didn’t feel right in Chloe’s gut. Barry hadn’t been sick last night when she saw him. And now that the files were out of his possession, he had nothing to worry about. He should’ve been at work today and acting as if nothing was wrong. Trent’s paranoia was contagious, darn him! Barry had probably spent the morning in bed sleeping off his stress or maybe a hangover.

At lunch, she left the office and bought herself a salad at the deli down the street. She called Barry’s cell phone number to check on him, but got no answer. Her unease intensified. And speaking of which, where was her own personal ball and chain? She searched up and down the block for a tall, gorgeous physique in the crowd. No sign of Trent. But she swore she could feel his gaze on her. It was almost a physical caress in its intensity. No doubt about it, he was there even if she couldn’t see him. If only he didn’t make her skin tingle like that!