Hard to Stop (15 page)

When she pulled in front of his townhome, he stirred and opened his eyes. He slid a look her way. "Hope the nosy neighbors aren't watching. They have enough gossip for weeks with me in my underwear and a tall, dark, beautiful woman at my side."

She smiled. Maybe he was coming out of it. She walked around to his side of the car and helped him out. He was still pretty shaky and definitely needed her support to get to the front door. She could only hope the bad guys didn't do a drive-by right now, because they'd both be goners.

Once they got to the safety of his front door, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Which key?" He had about five on his ring, and as long as he was coherent, she wasn't about to do the hunt-and-peck method for finding the right one.

"I'll get it." He slipped the key in the lock and leaned against the frame and allowed her to go first. "Gotta shut off the alarm."

"Sounds good." She gave him his space as he entered the code. They walked together toward the kitchen with her holding on to his elbow, even though he seemed to be getting stronger by the second.

"Going upstairs. Shower."

"Do you need any help?"

He chuckled and glanced her way. "You wish." He smirked as he walked stiff-legged up the stairs.

At least he was back to his normal sarcasm. "Are you sure you're up for this? I mean, with your arm and stuff."

"I'm fine. The arm's good. After a shower, I'll be good as new. Despite what you think about me, I'm not too macho to let you drive if it comes down to that. But it won't. I'm made of pretty stern stuff. Believe me. I might need help rebandaging my arm, since it's full of toxic river water. Make yourself at home. I pretty much have anything you might imagine in the fridge."

"Nice legs, by the way," she quipped.

"Glad you noticed." Without another word, he went upstairs, while the cop, combined with the woman in her, couldn't help but be curious about what kind of stuff he might have hanging around his house. She opened the giant Sub-Zero fridge that should be obscene for a single person to possess and found it stocked with a variety of waters and cheeses of every kind—from the relatively mundane imported Swiss to some exotic stuff imported from France. That was too big a temptation for her to overlook, so she sliced a chunk of it and found some crackers in the massive pantry. Geez, this guy knew how to live. She grabbed a bottle of IZZE soda and sat at the counter on a barstool that was so comfortable she could fall asleep on it.

The water in the shower had been on for at least twenty minutes now. She'd give him five more, then she'd go check on him.

She was about to fortify herself with more cheese and crackers and make her way upstairs, when he eased down. "Look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants. I didn't know you had anything resembling everyday-Joe pants or a hoodie. Slumming it today, huh?" She whistled because she knew it would annoy him. "Although those khaki pants and Burberry hoodie probably cost more than my mortgage payment each month."

"And yes, I've regained sensation in my extremities. Thanks for asking." He shrugged. "And it's not my fault I make a lot of money and like nice things. I have some connections. I could put a good word for you at The Alliance if you're interested. Sabrina and Jake make probably about ten times as much as you." When he slipped his arm around her waist, she couldn't be sure if it was for additional warmth or something else. "Let's make a snack bag for the road. I've heard Jersey can be a wasteland filled with bad food, casinos, and strip clubs."

She barked a laugh. "Almost as bad as getting stuck in Brooklyn, right, Mr. Upper East Side?"

"Brooklyn I might survive. They do have good pizza, so I've been told." He grabbed some things from the refrigerator and the pantry and threw them into a thermal bag. "I brought a couple of towels to wipe down the passenger seat." He stopped her before they made it out the door. "You going to tell me where you were going and why you were trying to lose me?"

She chewed her lip. "I have an idea of where Mick is. I got the information from Josh."

"The meathead outside the gym?"

She rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated sigh. "Mick's friend Troy moved away a couple of years ago. Troy was the older brother Mick never had. He lived next door to us for years and sort of took Mick under his wing. Troy's parents fell on hard times, and they got evicted when they couldn't pay their mortgage. Since then, Troy had bounced around a lot, and I'd lost touch. Josh gave me a possible address in Jersey. I was going to check it out later today. Alone."

"You weren't going to invite me? I'm disappointed in you, Detective."

"If you want me to call you Max, you need to call me Gianna or Gia, or G or bitch." She smiled. "Whatever you prefer."

"Gianna's a very cool name. I think I'll settle for that." He turned toward her. "But why did you come back for me—outside the obvious, of course." He did a come-on sign with his fingers, showing his annoying side once again.

"I decided it might be better if we worked on this together."

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

She sighed again.

"Hey, what's with all the sighs?"

"You're a walking, talking cliché. You live in one of the priciest areas of the city. You drive an expensive macho car. You survived an attack that most people would have died from. And you think you know everything."

He laughed and escorted her out the door toward his car. After wiping down the passenger seat with the towels, he helped her inside before handing her the bag filled with goodies. She contemplated the proper etiquette before she could dig in. Immediately was probably too soon. But she was a foodie. And she was Italian. It was in her blood to enjoy eating. And what he'd put inside looked amazing.

Once he'd settled inside, he turned on the ignition, clicked on the seat heater, and put the car in gear. "What's the address? I'll plug it into the navigation system." He looked at her.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was a good-looking man. And when he decided to change into his slumming look, it made him a lot more approachable. Dark khaki pants, a silky T-shirt, and a Burberry hoodie made her feel woefully underdressed. Shock of all shocks, he'd even put on a pair of tennis shoes.

As she rattled off the address and he plugged it in, she couldn't help but notice he winced as he shifted the car into gear. "I can drive if you're feeling too sore."

"I've been worse." He turned and gave her a cheeky smile.

She couldn't help but wonder what that might entail. Most cops had war stories to tell, and she had her fair share, but she expected his trumped hers any day of the week. Sooner or later, maybe he'd tell her. Then again, maybe he wouldn't. He didn't seem to be the sharing type. Which was fine, since neither was she.

"So what's your theory? You've been working the streets for a while. You've got to have a hunch about what this is all about. It's already a given you don't believe your brother is involved. So tell me about this former neighbor of yours. Maybe we can work on a strategy to scout him out before we make a move. Mick is not going to be visible. He's in deep hiding, so we need to find some way to smoke him out if in fact he's with Troy."

"All I know is that you need to stay far away when the time comes. He's not going to come out if you're around."

He glanced into the rearview mirror a couple of times and then shifted the car into third and squealed around the next corner, ignoring the friendly voice on his navigation system, which was currently recalculating. She glanced behind them. "What's going on?"

"We picked up a tail." He glanced again in the rearview and shifted, stepping on the gas. "I think."

"Where are you headed?" She guessed he was driving close to a hundred miles an hour, maybe even more. Hard to tell in this kind of car.

"Hell if I know. I've never been to Jersey, but I think we're close to the area where Tony Soprano buried his bodies. Didn't he own a garbage business or something?"

"Now is not the time to joke." She glanced behind the car as her heart raced. The nonstop adrenaline rollercoaster had to come to an end soon. Her body couldn't take much more. "Holy crap. It looks like one of those monster trucks, with three guys inside."

"You're one of those 'glass half-empty' kind of gals, aren't you?" He pushed the car to its limits. "It might be bigger, but we're a hell of a lot faster. That's the half-full part of me talking."

"I tend to be more realistic," she blurted as she glanced behind them again. Relief shimmied through when she didn't see anyone behind them.

"How reliable is the meathead at the gym? Would he double-cross you?"

"His name is Josh. And no, he wouldn't double-cross me." At least, she hoped not. She folded her arms across her chest to illustrate the point.

"Are you sure?"

Never say never. "Of course I'm sure. I've known him since I was in grade school."

"Just because you've known him a long time doesn't make him trustworthy." He held up his right hand only, since his left was on the steering wheel. "Don't get pissed at me. I was only asking."

"Because I've known you all of three days, I'm supposed to trust you? That's some faulty logic, if you ask me."

"Well, you are technically taking a trip with me to another state, so you must trust me somewhat. For all you know, I could be bringing you there for nefarious purposes." He chuckled and shifted gear once again as they hit the open road, leaving the other car in the distance.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Maybe you should be." He didn't look at her as he spoke, and she couldn't help but wonder what that meant. It might have been the first chink in his armor. Maybe one that spoke about vulnerabilities he couldn't or didn't reveal.

In the end, she opted to keep their banter light. "What are you going to do? Hit me with that massive portfolio of yours?" She laughed, enjoying the respite from worry.

"Hey, don't laugh. It would leave a mark. Sh—" His gaze focused on the rearview mirror again, and he swore. "Guess we didn't lose them after all."

"According to the map on my phone, there's a small road on the right. If you can get enough ahead of them, it might be a solution."

"Why isn't it showing up on my navigation system, then?"

"I don't know. But if it isn't on your navigation system, it might not be on theirs either."

He shook his head. "We're not going to fool them if they figure out it's the only option for our disappearance." He looked skeptical about her plan. Truth was, so was she.

"The nearest town is about ten miles away. Get enough ahead of them, and that's what they'll count on, especially if they're looking at the same map you are."

He shifted gear again and the car took off like a rocket. He had to be going about 120 right now, maybe more, but between the smoothness of the car and his expert driving, she hardly felt it.

When she looked behind her and saw the car fading into the distance, she breathed a little easier. "The turnoff is less than a mile away on the right. Five, four, three, two, one, okay, turn."

The car nearly did a 360, but he was able to keep control. "Where's the road?" He leaned closer to the window. "This is like a bad movie. There's even fog. This car isn't made for rugged terrain."

"Knew I should have driven my car." She scanned through her phone to try to find other ideas, but came up empty. "The curve's coming up. Right…now…turn."

The car made a sharp right, the tires spinning on the gravel road. He turned off the lights, making the journey feel even more ominous. Unless he was wearing night-vision goggles, she couldn't imagine how he was negotiating his way through the terrain.

"I thought you said there was a road here." Too focused on driving, he didn't bother to look at her. "I'm trusting your judgment and hoping you're—oh hell no—this road you found leads to a quarry. Negotiating a Jaguar down a quarry in the dark. Yep, that sure sounds like an excellent idea. Did you learn that in detective school?" He swore as the wheels spun in the dirt. "This cluster just got worse. We're stuck. Right in the middle of this so-called road. If they come after us, we're sitting ducks."

"We can hide in the woods." Her voice went up on the end, signaling she wasn't sure this would work.

"Let me get some stuff out of my trunk. And we'll head down the quarry. I've got some night-vision goggles." Without saying another word, he got out of the car and moved toward the trunk. "I've also got some firepower."

"If they figure out that's where we've gone, we'll be screwed."

"We need to trample some of bushes around the car. Make them believe we headed off down toward the road or across to the other side. Nobody but an idiot would hide in a quarry."

After they finished leaving a trail, they delicately made their way back and squeezed through the gate of the chain fence surrounding the quarry. "Don't worry. I've got this. We'll keep close to the inner wall," she said. And hope they didn't tumble to the bottom. That would be bad. If they survived, he'd never let her live it down.

"You okay with leading? I'm feeling fine now if you're worried I can't handle it."

"I'm okay. It's kind of steep."

"Let me see that Google Maps you're looking at." He forced her hand until the screen was visible. "Damn. How did that get screwed up?"

"Not sure. Let's hope to hell we don't get stuck down there."

"Yeah, there's that too."

"Glad we're on the same page. Death by quarry. That would be a new one to add to my résumé of possible death scenarios after the last couple of days."

"Now you're being a sissy. What happened to that half-full guy of a couple of minutes ago? I wouldn't imagine a guy with your background would be so fearful of a measly little quarry."

"I might be brave, but I'm not stupid. The upside is, they do have those cool machines down there. Maybe I could try one out."

She tsked. "You're such a guy."

"Last I checked."

She tapped on her phone, as if that would help dislodge the wrong information. "What the hell? Is that a truck I hear?"

"Anything in that crystal ball of yours? Maybe we should have listened when my driving directions thing contradicted yours."