Sins That Haunt (20 page)

“No. I'll let Christian do it. I wouldn't want to waste police resources on something like this.”

His temper flared. She didn't owe him anything. But no way was he going to allow her to shut him out—again. “Okay, what the hell is going on?”

“With what exactly?”

“With you. All of sudden it's like you don't trust me. First you blow up at me in the hospital. Then you don't tell me about the file. And it sure as hell looks like you'd rather have Christian help you than me.”

“Oh please, don't tell me you're jealous over Christian.”

“Of course not. He's very happily married to your best friend. And I see how you look at them when they act all goofy and in love.”

“How's that?” she snapped.

“You're happy for her.”

“She's my best friend,” she said, toning down her sass. “Of course I'm happy for her.”

“And jealous. You want what she has.”

“Every woman wants what she has.” Then she tried to backtrack. “Except me.”

“You don't want to be happy like that?”

“Drop it. I'm not getting into this with you.” Grimacing, she stood and scrubbed her hands over her face. “I'm stiff. I think I'll go take a warm bath.”

It wasn't right, his drilling her. She needed some rest after yesterday, but he wanted to know. “Okay, but first tell me why you left me out of the loop about the file being in your car.”

Her shoulders rose and fell as she drew a breath. “I didn't want to put you in a position where you'd have to lie to your team.”

“How so?”

“Dan Petry. What if he'd been responsible for my accident?”

“I'd have arrested him myself. Do you doubt that?” She couldn't possibly think any obligation he had with the force would prevent him from protecting her?

“No.” She took a seat on the opposite couch. Away from him. “I would have asked you not to say anything to your team until we'd learned his name.”

“And?”

“I didn't want to compromise your job. JJ knew about the file. You and I knew about it. And your team knew. In fact, you told me they wanted to see it. There's nothing in it of real value to the FBI . . . except the name of that cop. Statute of limitations doesn't hold for a dirty cop.”

He nodded, now understanding. “What if JJ had called Dan Petry and he was a member of my team. That was your logic?”

“It was possible.”

What she didn't understand was that if she'd asked him, he'd have kept the information to himself. He wasn't reporting back to his team with every detail of Shannon's life, especially if it had nothing to do with their case. But in her mind she was protecting him . . . just like when she'd taken off with Maggie.

“And the flash drive? Do you not want me to have the file?”

She scrunched her face. “What are you talking about? He's gone to make a copy. Christian told me the feds don't cooperate with ICU so
I
gave him the flash drive. Your hands are clean. When he gives it back to me, you can have it.”

He smiled, appreciating her looking out for him and wishing like hell she'd cut it out. “That was thoughtful, but from now on let me decide for myself.” He knew what she was doing. She figured she'd screwed up so many lives she wasn't going to screw up his. “If I make the wrong choice, it's on me. Not you. I'm not the guy buying into a lottery scam or giving my credit card number over the phone. Do you trust me, Shannon?”

“Yes,” she said, making him thankful she hadn't hesitated.

“Then trust that I know what decisions work for me. Okay?”

She got to her feet and nodded. “I do trust you. But you have to understand how hard it would be to watch you mess up your career because of me. Thirteen years ago I made the right decision . . . for both of us. Those first few years I didn't know whether I was coming or going. But my life could've easily gone south instead of north. And you wouldn't be who you are today.”

“Who do you think that is?” Exactly what was it she thought he'd done with his life without her in it?

“Well, that's just it, isn't it? All I know is what I see—a good man.” She left the room without a look back.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't follow her. A bath would do her good. She could relax and let go of some of the shit from the last week.

* * *

Christian and Maggie offered to pick up Indian food for dinner. It was Shannon's favorite and the best place in town didn't deliver. Noah used the time to check in with Damon.

“We have an appointment with John Hyatt,” Damon said.

“Do we?”

“Like we told Santos, we're thinking about expanding our operation to San Francisco. We'll need capital.”

“You think he'll push through a loan? Won't prove a thing.” They needed Hyatt on Santos's payroll.

“Sure it will, what with us overextending ourselves and no bank in Nevada or California willing to increase our line of credit. You see, we haven't proven ourselves, and our own bank would like to see a few more years under our belt before loaning us more money.”

“That's our story and we're sticking it to him?”

“Got the documents to prove it,” Damon said by way of answer.

If he was legit, he'd ask a whole lot of questions. If not, he'd push through the loan. But it still didn't prove he was on the payroll. Damon anticipated his next question.

“Look, first things first. The team checked him out. He's not just some bank loan officer. He's chief financial officer. He's also a family man with a wife, two teenage daughters. I pulled his file from their HR department. Born in Maine, he moved west with a promotion, one of many. And he has a fancy house in the northwest of Vegas.”

“Exceeding his paycheck?” Noah pulled Maggie's laptop forward.

“Nah, it's mortgaged to the hilt.”

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. “Why are you telling me this, then?”

“Why would a guy who owes a fortune on his house buy a boat?”

“He bought a boat?” He punched in Hyatt's name and hit Search.

“Last month; nice one too.”

“So he likes to carry debt. Doesn't prove a thing.” First and foremost, the Internet listed him as the chief financial officer with West-Lights First National. Then his LinkedIn profile followed. He wasn't on Facebook and didn't appear to have a Twitter account. “In fact it proves the opposite of what we want.”

“He also picked up a new BMW Z4.”

“Well, no wonder he's in debt.”

“Yeah, he and Santos like their toys. Want to know what else they have in common?”

“No, I don't.” Even though Damon couldn't see it, Noah rolled his eyes.

“They like to spend money on blondes.”

Noah did his best to stay calm. Shannon was safe.

“Mrs. Hyatt gives Silicon Valley a new meaning. That stuff's not cheap.”

He could see where Damon was going with this. “So you think Hyatt needs money?”

“He spends more than he earns,” Damon said. “Say Santos stumbled across Hyatt. He learned the guy was giving out loans with no assets to back them up. The loans never got repaid, but he needed to keep them off the books. So he had to create new loans to cover up the delinquent old ones. He could use real names, fake ones, names of the deceased.”

“This guy could set up all kinds of bullshit businesses, real or otherwise, to siphon fraudulently obtained loans.”

“Right. They met and struck some kind of bargain. We need to look at the loans he signed off on. Santos could be using him to bankroll his payroll. He could have gotten loans to who knows how many people who wouldn't normally qualify. Then Santos set them up in businesses that can launder his money. Like a new car dealership in San Francisco.”

If their suspicions were correct, Damon needed to give himself a pat on the back. “Hyatt would be creating a vicious circle and one hell of a paper trail. Hopefully one we can follow that will lead directly to Santos.”

* * *

The appointment was for noon the next day. That would give him time to go through the file and do homework on the names Shannon had collected, with or without Christian's help, but he was leaning more toward
with
. His boss might not approve, but finding JJ's killer wasn't part of a federal case, so thinking on it now, cooperating with ICU wasn't a no-no. And even if it was, he didn't give a shit. Shannon's life could be in danger. Her life trumped the rules.

As it turned out, Shannon needed her rest. She didn't come out for dinner. He'd wanted to bring her a tray, but Maggie suggested she do it. Christian agreed.

“She likes to play matchmaker. If she thought it was a good idea to push you two together, she'd be the first one to butt in.”

That earned him a scowl that would have had another man shitting his pants. Not Christian. “What? I'm just saying you have a sixth sense. You know Shannon wants to be alone.”

“Nice try,” she said, grabbing the tray. “Guess who else wants alone time?”

Christian grinned at Noah as Maggie left the room. “She's all bark.”

“I heard that,” she yelled.

“Love you, darling,” he yelled back in a thick southern drawl.

“Up yours” was her answer.

Yeah, Shannon wasn't the only one who wanted what these two had. Could he have it with Shannon?

* * *

Irritated with tossing and turning, Shannon grabbed her robe and opted to catch the sunrise; better that than staring at a dark ceiling. Summerlin was a beautiful community; she might as well take advantage of it, now that she was awake. Maggie had chosen to build here because travel time to either the club or the apartments, where she helped house her dancers, was short. There were lake views, mountain views, and desert views, sometimes all three at once. If you were inclined to get up early enough, Maggie‘s place afforded a spectacular sunrise over the mountains. Her girl pal had tried to talk her into buying a place out here, but this was too domestic for Shannon. She spent more time in her office and car than in her high-rise penthouse. She, unlike Maggie, didn't do home and hearth.

The guesthouse had its own outdoor space. A wrought-iron guardrail prevented anyone from nosediving over the rocky cliffs should the awe-inspiring, unobstructed views of desert and mountain overcome your sensibilities. It was a little chilly this time of year and this early in the morning, but it was worth not watching the sunrise through glass. She snagged the large sheepskin throw off her bed and went outside. Choosing one of the chaises longue, she lay back and covered herself. It would take a few seconds, but soon she'd be toasty warm. She guessed she had about twenty minutes to wait. So she hunkered down and closed her eyes, inhaling the crisp morning air.

“Move over, will ya?”

“Go away, Noah.” She kept her eyelids shut.

“But I want to watch the sunrise.”

So much for enjoying the view. “Then grab your own chair.”

“But you have a very warm blanket.”

She looked up to see him standing over her. He wore baggy gray sweats, a well-worn undershirt, and a mischievous grin. The guy had never looked sexier. “Who says I want to share?”

“Come on, Shannon,” he complained, wrapping his arms around himself. “It's cold.”

“Then go inside.” No way did she want him that close to her. There'd be no repeat performance of Tweedsmuir. No matter how much her feet wanted to jump up and demand an encore, her head knew better.

“Shannon.” He whined, actually whined.

“You're not funny.”

“A little bit,” he said, lifting her blanket and forcing her to make room for him. Then he cocooned her in his arms and kissed her temple. “There, isn't this better?”

“Better for whom?” She'd planned to watch the sunrise, not come out here for a snuggle fest . . . as nice as it was. She burrowed deeper into his shoulder, more for warmth than how good he felt.

He rested his chin on her head. “How's the bruising?”

“Okay. I think I was more stiff than anything. I borrowed Maggie's hot tub and it seems to have loosened everything up. My neck's sore and I was told to expect worse. The whole thing could have been worse. If he'd hit me harder . . .”

“I could have lost you.”

She tipped her chin up and saw him staring off into the darkness. “Noah?”

He looked down at her, his eyes dark and moody as he ran his knuckles across her cheek. “I don't give a shit about tomorrows. What counts are the todays. When I saw you on the gurney I was seventeen again. Alone, heartbroken, and desperate to have you back. Things have changed. We've changed. But I still care for you. And now I realize that will never change. You can put a country between us, but my feelings for you will never go away. I think I'm falling in love with you all over again.”

Then he kissed her. Slowly at first, giving her time to accept what he'd said. In a day or two he might no longer feel the same, when the shock of her accident wore off. As a kid he never said anything he didn't mean—he'd been logical to the point of driving her insane. So why was he not thinking rationally now? He couldn't be falling in love with her. He didn't know her, not anymore. But now, in this moment, she didn't care. Because she might be falling for him too. And she'd end up heartbroken all over again. It didn't matter. Life was full of heartbreaks so what was one more? She kissed him back.

Light shone through her closed eyelids. “We're missing the sunrise,” she said. “It really is spectacular.”