Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1 (29 page)

Glen’s lips curved in a chilling smile, and his gaze landed on Burton. “He gave me away, didn’t he? Because if you came here suspecting me, you wouldn’t have put your gun down.” He withdrew it from his jacket and laid it on the far corner of his desk.

She didn’t say a word, refusing to show him how rattled she was.

He pushed away from the window. “But to answer your question, it’s not the weapon I’m most interested in.” He opened a drawer on his desk, unzipped a long and narrow leather case and produced a hunting knife. “It’s the flash drive, I’m after. The one your friend insisted she didn’t have the night I killed her.”

Oh god.

She shook her head, her stomach cramping violently, protesting the reality that Cara’s murderer was the man she’d worked with side by side, never suspecting a fucking thing.

The phone in her hand rang, and Glen shook his head. “Don’t answer that, Max.” He dragged the tip of the knife across the desk. “Put it down. Slowly.”

She set it on the floor next to Burton, then stood, refusing to be in a position that physically gave Glen the edge.

“You know, I was sure you had realized it was me that night, right up until you called to tell me what happened.” He cocked his head, as if remembering. “But they had roughed you up a little, probably couldn’t see so well with one of your eyes swollen up so badly.”

Her lungs burned from the effort it took not to lash out at him. He had two weapons within easy reach and she didn’t have one. She needed to keep her head, needed to bury the fury at what he’d done to her friend.

He gave her a quick once-over. “Snake wasn’t very rough with you today, was he? I’d say the bomb did more damage.” Something in his eyes brightened.

“You set the explosive that killed Blackwater,” she guessed, and when he nodded, her mind made the next disturbing leap. “Jillian. It wasn’t some attempted hit on you gone wrong, was it? You killed her.”

“Is this the part where you’re all shocked at what I’m capable of?” He moved toward her. “Jillian stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. Kind of like you.”

She forced herself to hold her ground, instinctively knowing that some part of him wanted her to run so he could use his knife. “Then why am I still alive? You could have made a move the night we met at the diner.”

“Had you gone to stay at my family’s cabin when I suggested it, you would have died months ago. But you always were stubborn. Then of course when the case and flash drive didn’t turn up, Blackwater became convinced you knew something, so I had to behave myself until we knew for sure.”

Her gaze fell to the knife he tapped against his thigh.

“And then when I was visiting your parents a couple weeks ago, checking in on them, they mentioned a woman named Sherri. She used to date your brother, apparently, and lived in Canada. They thought maybe they should see if she’d had heard from you. Seemed like a long shot, but what the hell.”

“My parents trusted you.
I
trusted you.” Over and over again. They’d been friends. They’d bitched about work, laughed together. God, she’d mourned with him over Jillian’s death and it had all been a lie.

“You know, your parents I understand. But you, Max? We worked side by side and you never saw or suspected anything. What kind of cop does that make you?”

Anger ripped through her. “Go to hell.”

Whatever Glen saw on her face seemed to excite him. “I always sort of liked you, even when you were being a pain in my ass by pursuing Blackwater.”

“Why spend all that time covering up for him only to kill him?” She wanted to hope that Tess would call Lucas when Max didn’t answer her phone, but that wouldn’t guarantee he’d get back here before Glen decided to use his knife.

And it only took one look in his eyes to know that he had no plan of letting her walk out of the room alive.

“I was tired of dealing with his shit, and it just so happened that other people felt the same way.”

“So you were paid to screw him over? Must be some big bucks in whoring yourself out like that.”

His eyes narrowed, and she braced for his response, but he seemed to catch himself at the last moment. “Since you were the first to mention the weapon, I feel like I should at least offer you some control over your fate.”

The phone rang again, and this time she saw Burton stir, his fingers brushing it.

“If you tell me where the case is holding the device,” Glen began, “then I promise I won’t let you suffer.” He got in close, dragging the knife across her abdomen. “But I have to admit that I’m secretly hoping you don’t say a word.”

“What’s on the flash drive?”

“Names of just about everyone Blackwater has dealt with or paid off, and records of some of those transactions.”

No wonder Blackwater had looked rattled. He must have suspected someone was about to retaliate for his screw up. “Including your name, right?”

He grinned again. “There are people who will pay an obscene amount of money for the flash drive
and
the case, and frankly, I’m done with being a cop.”

“You sell that information and you’ll make more enemies than you can out run in a lifetime. And if you don’t think the buyer would use the information on that flash drive to extort everyone else, painting you with one hell of a bulls-eye at the same time, then you’re clearly not the mastermind you think you are.”

A flash of anger crossed his face, and he shoved her back a step.

Max caught his wrist and twisted, wrenching his arm back as she pivoted to get behind him. He slashed back with his knife, catching her across the thigh.

She stumbled backward, hitting the desk. With her gun still out of reach, she closed her fingers around the lamp on the corner of it and whirled, smashing it against his face.

He dropped the knife, and when he doubled over, she drove her fist up under his chin, snapping his head back.

“Bitch,” he snarled, lunging for her.

Max was fast, but the weight of his body knocking into hers stole her breath even before they hit the ground. Kicking out, she nailed him in the chest, but he landed a blow of his own this time.

She curled in on herself, protecting her abdomen from a second assault, but leaving her back vulnerable. Pain radiated up her spine from the kick, and she rolled away from him, but not fast enough to escape the lamp he brought down on her head.

Lucas stayed close to the wall as he moved soundlessly up the stairs. Sounds of a struggle came from the room at the far end of the hall, and it was all he could do not to sprint toward it. A struggle was better than silence. She was alive and fighting him, fighting hard.

Adrenaline and fear pounded through his veins, riding him so damn hard, he barely heard Eli start up the stairs behind him. They’d planned on each taking a floor, which turned out to be unnecessary when they heard voices coming from upstairs.

He was halfway down the hall when everything went completely silent, but he didn’t slow down, didn’t let his mind latch on to any possibility of what that silence might mean.

The door was ajar, and he kicked it open, immediately spotting them. Glen stood next to the desk, one arm wrapped around Max, using her as a shield, his gun at the base of her skull.

She leaned heavily into Glen, visibly struggling to keep her gaze locked on Lucas.

Without a clear headshot, he edged farther into the room, Eli right on his heels.

“Drop them,” Glen ordered, tugging Max closer to him. “I don’t think I need to tell you how this goes down if you don’t.”

“How much time do you think shooting Max will buy him?” Lucas asked Eli.

“Five, maybe ten seconds and then you’ll be so far down his throat he won’t be able to breathe without choking on your gun.”

Glen didn’t even blink at their exchange. “Do you know what happens to cops in jail? If I had to choose between that kind of hell and death, what do you think I’d go with? Put your guns on the fucking floor or Max dies.”

“Don’t do this, Glen.” The sound of Max’s voice drove a spike through his chest, and Lucas prayed Glen was stupid enough to move another inch or so and give him the shot he was so desperate to take.

Eli took a step away from him, seeking a better shot himself.

Glen jammed his gun against Max’s head hard enough to make her cry out. “Put. Them. Down.”

“Don’t.” Max shook her head. “Take a shot.”

Lucas cursed, then held out his gun, slowly bending to set it on the floor. Looking just as frustrated, Eli followed.

His friend had barely straightened when Glen shifted his aim and pulled the trigger. Eli stumbled back, hitting the wall behind him and sliding to the floor.

Son of a bitch.
Lucas managed only a step, before the gun was back on Max’s head.

“I know where the flash drive is.”

Both men’s attention snapped to Max. She sounded even more convincing than when she had lied to Blackwater.

“I’ll take you to it,” she vowed, “but not if you shoot him.”

Uncertainty blinked across Glen’s face. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“The flash drive was in her lip gloss.”

Lucas kept his expression neutral. How in the hell did she know that? And why hadn’t she mentioned finding it to him before this?

“And where is it now?” Glen demanded.

Max scoffed as if the question were almost too stupid to answer. “First we get in your car and drive, then I tell you.”

“Or I put another bullet in your boyfriend’s partner and see if that doesn’t change your mind.”

“Tell him to go fuck himself, Max,” was Eli’s strained reply. Blood ran down Eli’s arm, pooling on the floor.

Her gaze snapped to Lucas before she answered Glen. “And how would you know if I was telling the truth or just what you needed to hear?”

Glen remained silent for a moment, then nodded for Lucas to move a little closer to Eli. “Over there.” He waited until Lucas was next to his friend, then inched Max forward, toward the door.

There was no way Lucas was letting him leave with Max. If Max had lied to Blackwater when she had a knife to her throat, it was doubtful she had any intention of telling Glen where to find the flash drive.

And the second Glen realized that, Max was dead.

Once they passed through the door, though, Lucas had every intention of going for the backup weapon tucked in his pants near the base of his spine. He knew he was fast, knew his aim was more accurate—even on a bad day—than Glen’s, but one second was all Max’s partner needed to press the trigger.

He mentally counted off the distance they travelled. One foot. Three. Five.

Glen’s eyes shifted just a fraction, and Lucas suddenly knew the man wasn’t leaving without putting a bullet in him. Max seemed to realize that too, and wrenched free, lunging for Lucas as Glen brought his gun up.

Her hands slammed into his chest, shoving him off balance. Lucas heard the gunshot then felt the hot spray of Max’s blood on his face as the bullet pierced her neck.

Jesus, no.

She fell against him, her body sliding down his, her fingers raking his back as she dropped. He locked his arms around her, keeping her from hitting the floor.

Her head was back, her eyes locked on his—and her hand locked on the gun at his back.

He pivoted, angling his body away from Glen’s and giving her a clear shot that caught her partner in the stomach.

Knocking into his desk, Glen doubled over.

Using his left arm to keep Max upright, Lucas reached behind him with his right and slipped the gun from Max’s hand. One bullet would have ended it, but Lucas didn’t stop pulling the trigger until he felt Max go slack against him.

“Stay with me, Max.” He gently lowered her to the floor, yanking off his shirt and holding it to the wound on her neck.

So much blood, but not enough, he prayed, to indicate the bullet had severed her carotid artery.

“Here.”

Max’s phone slid across the floor and hit his knee. Nodding in thanks at Ralph Burton, he dialed 9-1-1, rattled off the address and mentioned two police officers and one civilian had been shot before hanging up.

Bone-deep fear that help might arrive too late made it difficult for him to breathe. “Eli?” Lucas couldn’t tear his eyes away from Max’s pale face. “You okay?”

A pained snort. “Maybe you missed the part where that asshole shot me.”

“How bad?”

“I’m not dead.” He managed to get himself into a sitting position. “Toss the phone over here so I can call Tess.”

He did as Eli asked and then felt for Max’s pulse. Panic sliced through him at the thready rhythm.
Fuck.
He shouldn’t have left her alone here.

It seemed to take forever before Lucas heard sirens, and he clung to the hope that it wasn’t too late for Max. When he heard the EMTs enter the house, he hollered so they knew to come upstairs.

“All gunshot wounds,” Lucas explained to the first two EMTs through the door.” She took a bullet in the neck.” He nodded to Burton and Eli. “Abdomen and upper chest.” He didn’t waste his time pointing out Glen. “The shooter is already dead.”

If the EMTs doubted his assessment of the latter, they didn’t say anything and crouched to assess Max.

Two more EMTs arrived just as Max was ready to be loaded into the ambulance.

“Go with her,” Eli insisted when Lucas glanced back at his friend. “This is just a scratch.”

The EMT working on his friend snorted.

“I’ll find you when I can.” Lucas darted out the door, careful to stay out of the EMTs way when every part of him demanded he hold on to Max to keep her from slipping away from him.

Inside the ambulance she looked so vulnerable and pale. What had she been thinking shoving him out of the way like that?

The monitor tracking her pulse began to beep in warning as her pulse slowed down. Heart frozen in his chest, Lucas watched the beats grow farther and farther apart, until she flat-lined.

No!

The EMT’s movements seemed to slow, as though Lucas watched the entire scene in instant replay. She still wasn’t responding when they reached the hospital. The second she was wheeled inside, hospital staff swirled around her, and he was forced to the side.