Текст книги "Dangerous Surrender"

Автор книги: Katie Reus

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

Chapter 7

Neal groaned as the sound of a phone ringing cut through the quiet room. He recognized the ringtone, otherwise he’d have ignored it. Opening his eyes, he looked over at the naked woman in his bed. Sunlight from a couple open blinds streamed through, highlighting her face. Her body was perfectly toned but she had more wrinkles around her mouth and eyes than he remembered last night when he’d picked her up. But he’d needed some quick stress relief and she’d been cheaper than buying a professional for the evening. All he’d had to do was buy her a few drinks.

Ignoring her presence, he grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and answered it. She didn’t even stir as he left the room. “Yeah?” His voice was hoarse and raspy. Probably shouldn’t have drank so much last night. Or done those lines of coke. But the woman had had extra, what was he going to say, no?

“Get out of your place now.” His contact’s voice was urgent.

“What, why?”

“Uniforms are headed to pick you up for more questioning. Not sure why exactly but something is going down.”

Panic detonated inside his chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. “Your contact told you? Does he know you’re warning me?”

The man snorted. “Hell no, he doesn’t know. We were talking shop and about Taylor coming back to town to talk to the police. I made it sound like everyone at the office was worried about her—which they actually are.”

He leaned against the wall outside his bedroom, his knees weak. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, it sounds like they’ve got some evidence that’s going to clear her and implicate you. Get out now because if they bring you in…”

He wasn’t ever getting out. That was the unspoken message. One he received loud and clear. “I’ll be gone in less than two minutes. I’ll contact you when I’m somewhere secure.” He knew exactly where he was going but he sure as hell wasn’t telling anyone else. Everyone could be bought or pressured.

“What do you want me to do about her? I’m still in Vegas and haven’t been able to find her. I know she was in the hospital briefly, but I have no idea where she went when she left.”

“Why was she in the hospital?” That didn’t make sense unless he actually had winged her or maybe even shot her. But if he had, that had been a long damn time for her to wait to go to the hospital. He shouldn’t have done that coke yesterday, but he’d needed it. It made everything in his life seem manageable. Damn it, had he missed something in the elevator?

“Don’t know. Couldn’t find out anything either.”

Damn it. He hurried back into his room, still on his phone as he headed to his walk-in closet. The woman on the bed didn’t stir. If he couldn’t see the rise and fall of her chest he’d have thought she was dead. “And you haven’t been able to track her through credit cards?”

The man snorted. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had. She’s not using anything. And she’s got backup of sorts. Not sure if it’s that Vadim guy but whoever was at that house has some sort of training.”

Neal knew his contact had never actually seen her at the house he’d gone to so it was possible she hadn’t been there, but he’d bet she had been. Otherwise why had that man pulled a gun on his contact? It could have been because he didn’t like people trespassing on his property. But from the account Neal had heard, his guy hadn’t done anything to warrant a gun being pulled on him. And Neal believed him. He’d always come through before.

“Come back to town. If she’s headed this way maybe you can cut her off before she makes it to the police station.” He grabbed what he thought of as his run-bag, which was loaded up with extra clothes, toiletries and a small stash of cash. Not a lot, but enough that he could get out of the city and stay unnoticed for a while. He’d need more to get out of the country though. He’d also need to buy a new ID, maybe a couple fake ones so he could lose anyone trying to track him and pick up all the cash he had stashed around the city. It wasn’t the police he was worried about as much as the Russians. A shiver snaked through him at the thought of what they’d do to him. Everyone knew the stories about how they tortured their victims, but Neal had actually seen someone brutalized once. It had been a warning of sorts by their enforcer. The scary fucker had wanted to make sure Neal knew what would happen to him if he crossed them.

“You still want her eliminated?”

He paused, thinking about his options. He needed her dead before she talked to the police. Although if they had evidence that he was lying then it wouldn’t matter if she was dead. Still, he couldn’t stand Taylor. She’d always looked at him as if she was better than him. She’d come from nothing, unlike him. And she thought she was better? “If possible, yes.”

“I’ll try to get her but if she’s coming in to the police station they might give her an escort. I’m not going down for you.”

Neal was well aware of that fact. His contact was only helping him for the money. “I’ll call you soon.” Hanging up, he pulled on a pair of slacks and a light-gray, wool pullover sweater. Getting out of his condo unseen wouldn’t be hard. He had good security but there were a couple exits he could use to get out without any guards seeing him on camera. Since he didn’t know when the police would be here, he wasn’t going to waste time waking up the woman in his bed.

If anything, maybe the cops would waste time questioning her—whatever her name was—which would give him a better lead time. Not that he was leaving the city. Not yet. He needed more information, needed to know exactly what the police had on him. If he didn’t have to flee, he didn’t want to. He liked his name and the life he’d created. Not to mention running from the Russians was stupid. But if the cops had proof that he’d killed Hugh and tried to kill Taylor then he was gone. He’d be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life, but fuck, he’d just have to do it because he wasn’t going in a cage.

Everything of importance he owned was in a storage locker, his safety deposit box, or on his boat. While he hated the thought of leaving his condo forever, there was nothing irreplaceable in it. Bag in hand, he grabbed his laptop and headed out. As he hurried to one of the stairwells, he pulled up his private bank account using his cell phone. When he couldn’t login, he frowned and called the bank. There seemed to be something wrong with his pin. A slither of anxiety worked its way through his system.

By the time he’d made a safe exit and left on foot, using the connection to a neighboring condo complex to locate his extra getaway car, he was beyond raging. With the exception of ten fucking dollars, all the money in his account was gone.

Transferred. To who the fuck knew where.

There was no way to stop it either. His heart beat out of control, the pulsing in his ears so loud he felt as if he was going to split apart at the seams. This couldn’t be happening.

Where had his money gone?

Taylor. That bitch must have taken it. Which meant he had no way to pay off the Russians.

She was too smart for her own good. Glancing around, he was thankful to see he was alone in the parking lot neighboring his condo. He wondered how long the cops would take to get there. Even with everything going on it made him laugh to think of how that woman in his bed would react to being woken up by cops. Too bad he wouldn’t get to see it.

Once he made it to the older model Prius he’d paid for in cash months ago, he started the engine. But he didn’t leave right away. The windows were tinted and he’d been sure to avoid all video surveillance when leaving out the side exit. He used his phone to check his work email, then half a dozen other work related accounts.

Locked out of all of them.

This was definitely Taylor’s doing. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as wave after wave of uncontrollable anger raged through him. She was dead no matter what happened. If he had to strangle the life out of her himself, he’d do it with no problem. No one stole from him and got away with it.

* * *

“You okay?” Roman asked quietly from the seat next to Taylor. He slid the pad of paper where he’d just finished his statement about yesterday’s events onto Detective Hurley’s desk.

They were sitting in Hurley’s messy, small office. Unlike what she’d seen of police stations on television and from her experience as a teenager when her mom had taken her down to the police station to press charges against her stepfather, there were quiet offices on the second floor above the main first floor. Hurley had dropped them off here, given them paper to make their statement and said he’d be right back.

Taylor had already finished scribbling down what she knew about yesterday and refused to look at Roman, but nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” She could feel him drilling holes in her with that intense gaze of his, but she didn’t care. She’d heard what he said about wanting to get rid of her. It hurt her more than she’d realized, especially after that kiss they’d shared.

Well screw him. She wanted to be gone too.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she turned completely away from Roman, looking at a big bookshelf on one wall. Thick notebooks and what looked like procedural manuals were stacked on it. On the top shelf was a picture of Hurley wearing a football uniform and holding a helmet under his arm. “Did he play pro football or something?” It would certainly make sense considering how big he was.

“Nope,” Hurley said, stepping into the room and making her nearly jump. Carrying a manila folder and a cup of what she assumed was coffee, he nodded at both of them. “I played in college, but got injured. I was never going to go pro anyway.” She didn’t hear any wistfulness in his voice and he continued quickly, not giving her a chance to respond. “I’ve got good news, bad news, and just news.”

“Good news first,” Roman murmured, sitting up at full alert, his body coiled tight, like a predator.

She hated that she was remembering what he looked like without his shirt on and how she’d felt with his big body pressing her down against his bed… Wait, Hurley was saying something. She snapped her gaze to where he sat behind his desk, his expression grim.

“The good news is that the bullet tested positive for your blood type,” he said, looking at Taylor. “I guess Powers Group has that information on file?”

She nodded. “Yes. I travel a lot with Hugh—used to travel with him—sometimes internationally so they’ve got most employees’ pertinent information in case there’s ever a disaster.”

“Until they do a DNA comparison they won’t know for sure that it’s you, but it’s sure not Neal Lynch’s type. Which brings me to the bad news. He’s in the wind.”

In the wind? “He’s…gone?”

“Yeah,” Hurley said, his mouth pulled into a tight line. They went to pick him up this morning and he was already gone. Doesn’t look like much is missing, but a woman he’d brought home last night was there and had no idea he’d even left. They’ve run his cell phone records and he received a call from a burner phone about ten minutes before Oceanside PD showed up at his place. Now he’s either ditched his phone or turned it off because they can’t track him. Not the actions of an innocent man.”

A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Despite the hurtful words Roman had said earlier about her, she glanced at him. His expression was unreadable, but he reached out and squeezed her hand in silent support. She looked back at Hurley. “Timing of that phone call can’t be a coincidence.”

“Nope. And the call originated from somewhere in Vegas. So it could be the guy who came after you yesterday. My money’s on it being him because I don’t believe in coincidence.”

Iciness settled over her as she tried to digest everything. Neal and whoever he’d hired to come after her were still out there.

“What are they doing to hunt him down?” Roman asked.

“They already got a warrant and have frozen all his assets so he doesn’t have access to any money right now. He could have accounts we don’t know about, but they’re digging into all his records trying to find out if Lynch’s got any extra houses or something that will lead them to him.”

“What about the man who came after Taylor yesterday,” Roman continued, his body language never changing.

“We’re still looking for the guy, but so far we’re coming up empty. There’s just no evidence to go on. It’s another reason for you,” Hurley said, looking at Taylor, “to get back to California immediately. You need to make an official statement and lay low for a while. At least until Lynch is caught. And he will be. Without funds he’s going to be fucked…uh, screwed. Once he’s caught he’ll turn on the guy he hired to come after you. A man like him has no loyalty. Is there a place you can go after you’ve made your statement?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she murmured, the wheels in her head turning. She didn’t even want to think that far ahead. She needed to talk to the Oceanside PD then figure out what to do about Hugh’s funeral. After that she’d worry about everything else.

“How are you going to get back home? It’ll take some time but considering the situation, I think we can arrange an escort—”

“I’m taking her,” Roman interrupted.

She looked at him in surprise. “Um, that’s not necessary. I’m sure you can’t wait to get rid of me,” she snapped with more heat than she’d intended. Gah, she hadn’t wanted him to know he’d hurt her. Without waiting for his response, she turned back to Hurley. “I can either drive or Powers Group has a company jet. I can probably use it. I just…normally I’d talk to Benjamin Escobar—he’s head of security there—but I don’t know if I can trust him.”

The detective’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Why do you say that?”

She lifted her shoulders as Roman’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. In the small room it was easy to hear. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. His jaw clenched once before he met her gaze. “I’ve got to take this, but whether you take your company jet or not, I’m going with you.” At that, he got up and left, his rubber-soled shoes silent as he entered the hall and moved out of sight.

Frowning, she turned back to Hurley. Taylor wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. She’d thought Roman had wanted her gone so why was he insisting on coming with her? Maybe he felt he owed it to Vadim. Shaking off the thought, she said, “Remember the man I told you about last night, Gordon Simpson?”

“The one waiting outside the PD?”

“Yeah. Escobar is his boss. I guess he could have been working for just Neal, but I don’t know. Escobar is kinda scary. I don’t see any of his guys doing something without him knowing.” Which she knew made her sound like a little kid, but she didn’t care. Benjamin Escobar had an edge to him.

Hurley snorted softly. “Well, scary or not, Escobar vouched for you. Went on record with the guys at Oceanside and said there was no way you killed Mr. Powers.”

She straightened in her seat, surprise jolting through her. “He did?”

“Yep. I don’t know for sure but it sounds like he’s got a good relationship with the department there and he made sure the detectives on the case knew his thoughts about you.”

“Oh.” She bit her bottom lip, digesting the newest piece of information.

“I’ve already passed on the info about Simpson though so hopefully by the time you get back to Oceanside they’ll know more about why he was at the station. If it had anything to do with you, they’ll find out. Powers was an influential, powerful man. They’re working around the clock to close the case.”

“Good.” That didn’t mean she believed Escobar wasn’t involved. But why would he have vouched for her to the police when he barely knew her? They’d worked at the same company for a while but he was not a warm, friendly type. That being an understatement.

She felt as if her brain was about to go into overload and she just hoped she could count on the man as an ally.

* * *

Roman didn’t stray too far down the hall as he answered his phone. If it was anyone else, he’d have ignored the call, but when Wyatt Christiansen called, he answered.

“Hey, boss,” he said quietly.

“Roman. What’s going on with Taylor Arenas? Has she been arrested?” That was something he liked about the man. He always got right to the point.

“How do you even know about that?” And how did Wyatt know Taylor? His billionaire boss was happily married but that strange sense of possessiveness swept through Roman again nonetheless.

He snorted softly. “Vadim.”

Roman wondered why Vadim had mentioned it to Wyatt at all. “She’s fine and no, she’s not being arrested. I’m taking her back to Oceanside in the next hour or so.” Because no matter what she said, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. Ever since they’d left his house earlier, she’d been quiet, withdrawn. He’d thought maybe she regretted the kiss they’d shared but after what she’d said in Hurley’s office about him wanting to be rid of her, he realized she’d heard what he said to his brother. Roman wanted to kick his own ass for saying that lie out loud. As soon as they were alone, he was going to explain to her why he’d said it.

“How are you getting there?”

Roman paused. He respected his boss, but his personal business was just that. Personal. And he was off for the next few days so it wasn’t like this would interfere with his work schedule. Unless he was missing something here, Wyatt should have no reason to be asking about Taylor. “Respectfully, why do you want to know about Taylor?”

Wyatt let out a short sigh. “I’ve been trying to hire her away from Powers Group for years. Vadim’s assured me she’s innocent and I…I respected Hugh Powers. I just want to make sure Taylor’s all right.”

“More like you want to get a head start on the headhunting,” he said dryly. The words were out before he could censor himself. He liked and respected his boss a lot, but he was always very aware of their professional relationship. Unlike Jay, Wyatt’s right-hand man, Roman didn’t have that type of relaxed relationship with the billionaire where he always said what was on his mind.

To his surprise, Wyatt let out a sharp laugh. “You’re not totally wrong. She’d be a big asset to me if I could hire her, but Vadim asked me to help out.”

And Vadim never asked for anything. Wyatt didn’t say it, but Roman knew it was true and part of the man’s reasoning. Vadim was a fucking genius and someone Wyatt would never want to lose. “Fair enough. I’m driving her back. Shouldn’t take us more than five or six hours. And I’m taking her directly to the police station.”

“You can take the private jet. I’ll have Ellie set it up.”

“I thought Ellie was off.” Ellie was Wyatt’s assistant but Roman was sure she’d taken off work with her new husband, Jay. He had friends in town who hadn’t been able to make it to their wedding and Jay had wanted to show off his new wife. He hadn’t said the words but Roman knew Jay well.

“Damn it, I forgot. I’ll have her temp do it or I’ll just do it myself,” he grumbled and Roman figured he was counting down the seconds until the efficient blonde returned to work. “Just show up at the hangar when you can, I’ll make sure you’ve got a ride.” He disconnected before Roman could respond.

Not exactly surprising. When Wyatt was done talking, he was done talking and nothing else needed to be said.

The jet ride was a nice surprise, faster, and a whole lot more secure than him driving Taylor. He didn’t think she’d have an issue flying considering she’d mentioned taking her company’s jet, but he had a feeling she’d have an issue with him going. Not that it mattered, it was happening. Because he was making sure she made it to California safely and he wasn’t trusting her safety to anyone but himself.

Taylor was more than just an obligation. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known her long, he found that he wanted to know every little thing about this woman. And he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

Chapter 8

Taylor gratefully took the bottle of water the flight attendant gave her and tried not to wonder what Roman was doing at the front of the plane. The tall, slender woman was beautiful and looked runway ready even in her blue and white uniform. Her inky-black hair was pulled up into a complicated-looking chignon and her lips were a ruby red that made the woman look like freaking Snow White.

Meanwhile Taylor was wearing borrowed clothes that didn’t fit right, had no makeup on and was wearing her zombie heels. Okay, her heels were actually awesome and the only thing that made her feel better. But she felt like crap otherwise and the dull throbbing in her side wasn’t helping any. And she really didn’t like the flirty looks the flight attendant had been giving Roman when they’d first boarded. Even if she couldn’t blame the woman.

It wasn’t like Taylor had a claim on him and he didn’t even want to be with her so whatever. His brother had taken them to the airport so she’d mainly talked to him, basically ignoring Roman. She’d felt as if he wanted to talk more to her, but she just couldn’t deal with how he made her feel all manic. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back against the plush, leather seat and tried to relax even though it was impossible when she knew what was waiting for her at the end of the flight.

“What you heard me tell my brother was bullshit.” Roman’s voice startled her.

She hadn’t even heard him approach. Opening her eyes, she turned in her seat to find herself staring into his mismatched eyes and fought that increasingly familiar sensation of being swallowed up by the man just by looking at him. “Excuse me?” As soon as they’d boarded he’d headed up to the cockpit and she hadn’t seen him even during takeoff. It was clear he knew the pilot and co-pilot, probably from previous travel with his boss. A shockingly jealous part of her had wondered if he’d been on more than friendly terms previously with the flight attendant. Ugh, she didn’t like feeling like this.

He sat directly next to her in one of the big, comfortable, leather seats instead of across the aisle from her, his nearness putting her on edge. That familiar masculine, woodsy scent wrapped around her as he leaned closer, his body heat scorching. “I don’t want to get rid of you.”

She wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t heard him at his place, because his words had hurt. “Then why’d you say it? Are you embarrassed by me?” That insecure part of her she thought she’d left behind in high school flared to the surface. The girl who’d never quite fit in—and still felt awkward in a lot of social situations—and wondered why a man like Roman had even kissed her.

He blinked as if she’d truly surprised him, something she figured didn’t happen too often. “Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed by you?”

His surprise soothed her ego, but she still wanted an answer to her first question. She shrugged. “Why’d you say it?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

“That’s helpful,” she muttered, annoyance ratcheting up more than hurt.

Gritting his teeth, he met her gaze. “That kiss took me off guard and… I don’t fucking know. You make me feel crazy and I didn’t want to deal with questions from my brother when I had no idea how to answer him.”

Okay now she was confused. “I make you feel crazy?”

“Yeah.” His voice dropped an octave and he leaned in a fraction before he stopped himself and pulled back. Not enough to put actual distance between them, his masculine scent teasing her senses as it wrapped around her. “I’m near you and I want to kiss you. I think about you, and I get fucking hard,” he growled.

Her lips parted in surprise and just like that, his gaze dropped to her mouth and he let out a soft groan she might not have heard if they weren’t sitting so close.

“Are you hard right now?” she whispered, unable to take her gaze from his face.

“As stone.” His words were a guttural confession.

Just like that her nipples hardened and heat flooded between her legs. His words were like a full-body caress for how they affected her.

Unable to stop herself, her gaze dipped down but he had his laptop case placed over his lap. When she looked back at him, his gaze seemed to darken as he watched her intently, waiting for a response.

She leaned a fraction closer, as if drawn by the magnetic pull between them. “My nipples are hard too,” she whispered, the bold admission unlike her. Everything going on in her life might be insane, but the attraction she felt for Roman probably took the cake. There was no explaining it.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he quietly blurted.

Okay, that doused some of her desire, but…her gaze fell to his mouth again and her nipples tightened even harder against her bra cups. “Good. Neither am I.” Which was mostly true. She didn’t have time for a relationship, especially now, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Roman. Maybe some good sex would be enough to get him out of her system. Though part of her was really disappointed by the no relationship statement even if she wasn’t looking.

The flight attendant chose that moment to interrupt them, asking Roman if he needed anything else. He answered no without looking at her, which made Taylor smile. Once they were alone again, she leaned back against her seat and tried not to fantasize about going to bed with him. She felt guilty for her thoughts with everything else going in.

It was definitely time for a subject change. “How do you like working for Wyatt Christiansen?”

Roman paused for a long moment, as if he didn’t like the shift in topic, but then he sighed and seemed to relax, the tension in his shoulders loosening as he leaned back against his seat. He was still turned in her direction. “He’s a good boss. Benefits are good too. He takes care of his people.”

“That’s a very succinct answer.”

His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile—she wondered what it would take for him to full-on smile at her. “There’s not much else to say. The guy’s a hard ass when he needs to be, but he’s fair. I like working for him and I like the people I work with. Did he offer you a job again?”

Her eyebrows raised at his question. “You know he’s offered before?”

“He mentioned it when he called earlier.”

“He could have contacted me for all I know but I still don’t have my phone.” Or her laptop, her tablet, e-reader or half a dozen other electronic devices she was used to carrying with her at all times. Being so disconnected was jarring.

At the same time, it was also oddly nice not to have to deal with anyone who’d known Hugh, whether they thought she was guilty or not. The thought of talking to people she worked with about Hugh made her want to tailspin into a breakdown.

“I don’t think he’d make an offer just yet.” Roman’s voice was dry.

Taylor snorted. “Yeah, but this jet is a nice touch. If it wasn’t for Hugh I probably would have considered Mr. Christiansen’s offer—well, offers.” But she hadn’t even thought about it, nice as it was to be headhunted. Now she had no clue what she planned to do once the dust settled. One of the main reasons she’d stayed with Powers Group was because of Hugh and because she loved her job. Now the thought of going back to work for the company was depressing.

Roman seemed to sense her mood change because he reached out and squeezed her hand. “We’ll be there soon, rest if you want,” he murmured.

She wished he wasn’t being so sweet and caring. Okay, that wasn’t true. She was incredibly appreciative of his support. It just made it harder because she knew this wasn’t going to last. Throat tight with a cacophony of emotions brought on by thoughts of her dead friend, she nodded and closed her eyes. The seat was like a big cloud so it wasn’t hard to relax. She couldn’t help but notice that Roman never let her hand go.

And she wasn’t inclined to pull it back from him. He made her feel safe, grounded and…not so alone.

* * *

“You ready?” Roman asked quietly as he and Taylor waited to disembark. As soon as they’d landed he’d received a call from Wyatt—who’d clearly taken a personal interest in this situation—letting him know that the detective assigned to the case, two uniformed officers and three men from Powers Group security were waiting for them. No one wanted to take any chances that Taylor didn’t make it to the police station.

After watching a couple news clips on his phone before they’d taken off, he’d seen how much the media was paying attention to the story of Hugh Powers’ death. No doubt the Oceanside PD wanted this wrapped up quickly and efficiently. There’d recently been an earthquake a couple hours north though so half the media attention was on the natural disaster.

Taylor nodded, her bright blue eyes seeming more vivid against her face under the afternoon sun streaming in through the open windows. “I think so. Guess it doesn’t matter now… Thank you for coming with me.”

He just grunted, not needing her thanks. Not wanting it. All he wanted to do was chase away the shadows in her eyes, see her smile. A real one.

When the plane door opened, she tensed next to him. Seconds later the pilot, co-pilot and flight attendant thanked them for flying with them with smiles on their faces—Wyatt’s people were always professional—before Roman and Taylor exited.

Carryon bag in hand, he went first, wanting to shield her from everything. Two matching, black SUVs and a slightly smaller black Ford Explorer were on the tarmac not far from the plane. Six men in total waited at the bottom. Three in black suits with black ties. All alert, all armed even if he couldn’t see their weapons. Two men were in police uniforms and one man was in slacks and a sports coat. He was the tallest. His hands were shoved in his pockets, pushing the bottom of his coat back and revealing his badge hooked on his belt. When he saw them, he straightened.

Roman reached behind him with his free hand and was pleased when Taylor took his hand. Moments later as they reached the bottom of the rolling stairs, the tallest man approached. Oh yeah, definitely the detective on the case.

The tall, lanky man with dark hair nodded at both of them, his focus narrowing on Taylor as he pushed his sunglasses back on his head. “Ms. Arenas?”