Lawless (2 page)

"They want her pretty bad."

"Her?"

Another long silence crawled across the phone line. 
"The witness is Trasatti's daughter."

Milo whistled.  "She's turned on her family? 
Wow.  That had to take guts.  She may never be able to show her face in public
again."

"Yeah.  She definitely has…uh…tenacity.  Not
to mention, her testimony is vital to bringing down several key players. 
Chicago PD has the granddaddy by the balls, but, with what she's giving them,
the DA will be able to cripple the organization so badly, they'll never stand
again."

Milo wondered if the girl knew exactly what she
was getting herself into.  She'd grown up with the mob, so she had to know they'd
use whatever means necessary to seek her out and destroy her.  The Trasatti
organization was worth millions of dollars.  Even if the grandfather sat
rotting in jail, the rest would never go down without a fight.

"Okay, let's say I'll consider helping you. 
I still have a day job."  Even though he was currently cooling his heels. 
"Also, the higher-ups are not going to be too keen on you using someone
they now consider an outsider."

"Milo."  Quinn used a cajoling tone.  "These
aren't things you need to worry about.  You know me.  I've already spoken with
Sheriff Williams.  He said you'll be down at least two weeks healing and
waiting to be cleared for work again.  Good ol' Bill also said he'd be more
than happy to extend your time off if needed."

"Good ol' Bill?  Since when have you been on
first-name terms with my boss?"

Quinn chuckled.  "Like I said, you know me,
Milo.  I need someone extremely discreet that could shoot the balls off a
chipmunk from two hundred yards away, and you're that man."

It was Milo's turn to laugh.  "Damn, you make
me sound good."

"You are good, and I need you.  What do you
say?  Can you meet me in Salt Lake to take custody of her?"

He sighed.  "Why the hell not."

Back inside, he dropped a five on the bar for a
tip.  "I'm outta here," he told Scott.  "Looks like I've found
me some entertainment for a few days."

"Must have been a good phone call.  What's
up?"

"I'm headed to Vegas.  An old friend is
getting hitched, and he just invited me to attend."  At least the old
friend part was true, and if Scott and his other buddies expected him to be out
of town, it would give him a chance to get this woman hidden before anyone
started nosing around.  "It sounded like a good excuse for a wild weekend,
and it's not like I'm doing anything else."  He glanced at his bandage.  "Well,
semi-wild weekend."

*        *        *

Milo woke with a start and automatically reached
for the Glock he kept on the nightstand.  He had his hand wrapped around the
butt of the sidearm before he remembered he was in a hotel room on the
outskirts of Salt Lake, and the noises that had woken him were from other guests. 
He'd honed his knee-jerk reaction from his days in the military, and sometimes
when he wasn't quite coherent, his old training automatically kicked in.

He flopped back on the bed, hot and sweaty.  The
temperature had registered 95 degrees when he'd driven into town late yesterday
afternoon, and it hadn't cooled one bit.

He glanced at the clock.  Five minutes to six. 
Quinn and the woman would be touching down in another hour.  If he got up now,
he'd have time to gas up, grab some snacks for the way home, and eat a decent
breakfast before he was supposed to meet them.

As he showered and dressed, he couldn't shake the
strong feeling that agreeing to help had been a mistake.  Sure, he and Quinn
were friends, but he'd left the Marshal's Service because he didn't want that kind
of stress and pressure in his life.  Now here he was, right back in the thick
of things.  Maybe, deep down, he really hadn't shaken that underlying need to
make up for what had happened three years ago.

Sixty minutes later, Milo pulled into a secluded neighborhood
park in a suburb of Salt Lake, not surprised to find it deserted except for a
man and a woman.  He recognized Quinn immediately.  Brown hair, muscular
build.  He sat on a shady bench facing away from Milo.  Next to him was a woman
wearing a white ball cap, her dark ponytail sticking out the hole in the back
of her hat.

Milo exited his truck, a hot wind blowing in his
face.  Quinn caught his eye before he had taken two steps toward them.  Always
the alert one.  That's part of what made his friend so good at his job.

As Milo drew closer, he could hear the woman
speaking.

"…ridiculous.  I don't understand why I can't
stay here close to the city.  This place is out of the way.  No one will find
me here.  And it's not so far from civilization that I feel like I might
suffocate."

"You know the mob is everywhere, Ariana. 
Your family might not have direct connections with anyone here, but word gets
out."

Milo paused a few feet from their bench to allow
them to finish their conversation before he interrupted.

Ariana slumped her shoulders.  "I'm so tired
of this game.  Why can't I testify now, give a deposition or something and be
done with it?  If I'd have known what this entailed and how drawn out it would
be, I might have made a different decision."

If first impressions were correct, it appeared
Milo might have a spoiled diva on his hands.  If so, he'd be giving Quinn hell
later for not mentioning that part of the deal.

"You made the right choice.  You only have to
tough it out for one more month."

"This isn't right.  It seems I'm being
incarcerated along with my father.  When this is over, I expect you to send me
somewhere warm and tropical.  Hawaii.  San Juan.  Somewhere far away that has a
pulse, with perhaps a library and a university nearby.  These nowhere towns are
stifling."

Milo took a step forward, but stopped when she
continued speaking.

"I don't understand why you think this small
town cop can protect me better than anyone else has.  You haven't been able to
keep me off the radar so far.  How is some backwoods deputy going to be a match
against the Trasatti men?"

Quinn cleared his throat and looked over his
shoulder at Milo.  "Ariana Trasatti, I'd like you to meet Milo Sykes. 
Milo, this is Miss Trasatti."

The smart-ass remark Milo had poised on the tip of
his tongue evaporated when the woman turned.  The unusual color of her eyes fell
somewhere between green and blue and completely captivated him.  She blinked a
couple of times, her long lashes fluttering as her mouth turned downward into a
frown.  She tossed a nasty look at Quinn.  "You knew he was behind me,
didn't you?"

Quinn had been a constant thorn in Ariana's side
from the moment he'd been assigned to her case.  Of course she was grateful he'd
done his best to keep her safe, and yes, she wasn't the easiest person to
protect, but it was the snarky little things he did like letting her make an
ass out of herself in front of Deputy Sykes that got under her skin.  He
obviously enjoyed one-upping her every chance he got.  That was fine.  Anything
that challenged her these days was a godsend.

The small-town deputy certainly was not what she'd
expected.  She'd pictured him older, maybe overweight, with definitely a lazy expression
on his face, not this blond Viking god with eyes the color of the Mediterranean
Sea.  If he wasn't wearing cowboy boots, she'd wonder if he was a mirage she'd
conjured from spending too much time in the heat.

Ariana stood, tilting her head upward to meet his
gaze as she extended her hand.  "Deputy Sykes."

He smiled and grasped her hand, his eyes twinkling. 
Confidence radiated from his self-assured stance, and he didn't seem insulted
at all by her unflattering remark.  In fact, he seemed somewhat entertained by
it.

"Miss Trasatti."  The firmness of his
grip along with the intelligence in his startlingly blue eyes set her on edge.

Quinn stood and shook Milo's hand as well.  "Good
to see you, buddy.  You're looking fit.  Except that little band-aid on your
arm."

Indeed, he was.  Ariana took advantage of their focus
on each other to give the deputy a closer inspection.  She wondered about the
white bandage circling his arm, but said nothing.

The curve of Milo's grin showed obvious affection
for his friend.  "I could say the same.  Life seems to be treating you
well.  Settled down yet?"

The dark-haired marshal shook his head, giving his
friend a half-cocked smile.  "Never.  I've managed to elude that
distraction this long.  I think I'm safe."

Milo's brows shot upward.  "Yeah, but you're
so afraid of falling in love that you avoid the ladies.  Think of all the fun
you're missing."  His gaze slid to Ariana's.  They connected for the
briefest of seconds, but it had been long enough to stir her blood and send her
mind wandering.

She wanted to ask him if his look had been a
warning or an invitation.  Perhaps the look had been an unconscious view into
his thoughts.  Or maybe it had been nothing more than a coincidence that he'd glanced
at her the moment he'd uttered those words.

It was also possible that utter boredom might have
short-circuited her brain, causing her to imagine sexual encounters with the
handsome deputy.

"How about you, Milo?  I don't see a ring on
your finger."  Quinn threw the challenge back in his friend's face.

"Too busy having fun."  Again, he looked
at her.

"What?"  She couldn't let the glance go
unanswered this time.  "Why do you keep looking at me?"

Milo kept his face expressionless as he studied
her.  Not a lifted brow, smile or frown to give away what he was thinking.  "I'm
just wondering how much trouble you're going to cause me with the ladies if I
take you home...to keep you hidden, that is."

Again with the sexual innuendos.  Both he and
Quinn regarded her with interested looks.  "I'll try to stay out of your
way.  Wouldn't want to damage that ladies' man reputation you seem so fond of."

Both of the men had the sense to appear chastised.

The smile dropped from Milo's face.  "I
apologize, Miss Trasatti.  That remark was out of line.  This is a business
meeting.  I'll try to remember that."

Quinn agreed.  "I'm sorry, too.  I've been
around you enough I guess I got too comfortable, and I shouldn't have." 
He nodded at Milo.  "And this guy has the tendency to bring out the worst
in me."  They exchanged quick grins.

Their apologies took her by surprise.  She hadn't
had her feelings recognized or valued by a man her entire life.  The men in her
family received respect.  The women were there solely to serve and to
please...at least while the men were around.

Since her first boyfriend, Danny, had been
murdered eight years ago just after her sixteenth birthday, she'd spent very
little of her social time around men.  Her separation from boys during the
first couple of years had been forced.  Her father would not tolerate anyone of
the male species touching his daughter again.  After that, she'd avoided male
relationships, partly out of fear of her father, and partly because she couldn't
bear to lose someone else she loved.

She blinked, trying to process her emotions in a
rational way.  "No harm done."  She took hold of her suitcase that
rested next to the park bench.  The nondescript black fabric bag contained
everything she could now claim in her life.  "Which way is your car?" 
The sooner this month ended, the better.

"Would you like me to get that for you?"
Quinn asked.

"I can manage."

Milo took the suitcase from her hand, giving her a
second surprise that morning.  "Sorry, but my momma taught me how to treat
a lady."  He headed off toward the parking lot, acting as though her
suitcase weighed nothing.

Ariana glanced at Quinn.  He smiled and shrugged. 
"Milo will take good care of you.  I promise.  I feel safer leaving you
with him than with anyone else in the world.  He's a good man.  Don't forget to
keep your head down.  Remember the rules."

She wanted to give him a snarky "yes, sir",
but she knew he had her best interests at heart.  "I will."

"One month, okay?  You can do this."

For a quick moment, she wanted to cry.  She wasn't
sure what had brought on that unwanted emotion, but she didn't like it.  She'd
been taught from day one weakness would not be tolerated.  Not from a Trasatti.

She pulled her sunglasses from her purse and
slipped them on, using the opportunity to also don her mask of indifference.  "You
know me, Quinn.  I'll survive."

"I know you will."  He gave her hand a
squeeze as they walked toward Milo's truck.

Milo opened the passenger door as she approached,
and her nerves clutched her stomach, leaving her feeling sick.

"Your carriage, milady."  Milo offered a
gallant gesture indicating she should enter.  She climbed into the vehicle that
would whisk her away to the next unknown segment of her life.

"I won't be in constant contact like I've
been before."  Quinn told her.  "I want it to appear as if you've
vanished.  This may be the only way to keep you safe."  He tucked a small cell
phone into her hand.  "This can't be traced to either of us.  Use it only
in an emergency."  His usual confident expression gave way to worry as he
leaned in and hugged her.

"Okay."  She worked to keep her voice
steady.  "Thanks for everything, Quinn.  I appreciate it."  Guilt
soaked into her thoughts, making her wish she hadn't made his life harder than
it had to be.  He really had done his best protecting her.

He softly punched her arm.  "See you in a
month.  Until then, I'll start working on that permanent exotic locale you've
been requesting."

She blew out a breath weighted with anxiety.  "Deal."

If only she could call her best friend and vent
about her messed up life.  One tiny call.  Five minutes speaking with Kenzie could
possibly save her sanity.  Too many disturbing scenarios continually flooded
her brain, and she couldn't help wondering about what had transpired back home
after she'd agreed to work with the police.  If she could just get a little
news from Kenzie, she'd be able to relax.  But phone calls, contact of any kind
was strictly forbidden.  Quinn had drilled that mantra into her head a thousand
times over.