Sean Page 17

  “I’ll wire the place beforehand. Don’t worry, we’ll get him. His arrogance, and his belief that he’s got you over a barrel with the threat against your father, will make him less careful than usual. If anyone can get him to talk, it’s you.”

  For the first time in what seemed like ages, a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “So, are you suggesting I use my feminine wiles on him? Hell, that’s what got me into this mess in the first place. And I wasn’t even trying.”

  Sean grinned. “You don’t have to.”

  She rolled her eyes, then rubbed at her arms as if cold. Only he knew the chill had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.

  “I’ll be right there, Laurel. Nothing will go wrong.”

  “I wish I was as confident of that as you are.” She paced again. “We have other work to do. Or I do. I need to find out who we can take the evidence to afterward. I don’t know who I can trust in the department. It would be just my luck to pick the one guy who the Rochambeaus have in their pocket. I’m sure Bentley isn’t the only one. Just as I’m certain they haven’t gotten away with everything they’ve done for so long without some help inside the police department.”

  With an adamant shake of her head, she crossed the room again. “No offense, but the federal guys will just make a nightmare out of this. My father’s entire career, both present and future, is in the balance here. I want as much control over how this situation is handled as possible.”

  Sean crossed the room, pulled her back into his arms. “It will all work out.” He thought about the probable aftermath, the media storm when the news broke. And he knew it was going to get a lot uglier before it got any better. “Can I get you to promise me one thing?”

  “I don’t know. Ask me.”

  “If we think, afterward, that there is any chance that your father might either be involved or hurt by what we’re doing, then you have to go to him and tell him everything, so he’s at least prepared for the aftermath.”

  She trembled slightly, but held his gaze, then gave him one short nod. “Yeah,” she said roughly. “I promise.”

  Sean snugged her back against his chest, wishing like hell this was already over. Wishing like hell he could do more to protect her, to protect her father. At least there was something he could do about securing the area where Laurel and Alan were going to have their meeting. “Okay,” he murmured, his mind already spinning out all the possibilities for what he wanted done. “Let’s sit down and map out a strategy for what you’re going to say.” He pulled out the chair for her, then went to put on a fresh pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

  IT TOOK ALMOST A WEEK to set up. A week of sleepless nights and a steady diet of coffee and antacids. Despite the fact that Sean had spent every evening and night with her, sneaking in and out like a thief each time, she was still jittery and slightly nauseous at the thought of what was about to unfold.

  She stood in the middle of the backwater bridge, gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles hurt.

  “He just pulled up,” came the soft words just above her ear, where Sean had wired her hair barrette with a microscopic speaker. “You’ll be great.”

  She made a little snorting sound, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth anyway. Just hearing his voice, so calm and steady, was a tremendous boost. It made her glad Sean had come up with a way to keep them connected, even if it did make her a little more nervous about unintentionally giving him away.

  She knew the area was wired to pick up even the softest spoken word. She wore only the small mike, which would go undetected even with relatively sophisticated scanners. Not that she expected Alan to have any such thing, but he’d been more than a little wary about meeting her here. She’d finally been forced to tell him that she was going to do what he wanted, but had some additional questions on how to handle certain potential obstacles and would feel more confident if they could have one last meeting to come up with a specific game plan.

  He’d agreed, but she sensed this was going to be far harder than even she imagined. All his instincts were on red alert and she had no idea how she was going to get him to let down his guard enough to give her what she needed. Gain his trust, Sean had advised her. She fidgeted a bit, stared out at the slowly moving water as she tried to figure out just how in the hell she was going to do that. Barring that angle, her only other option was to spark a fight with him, to make him angry. Angry enough that he lost control.

  Sean didn’t want her to go in that direction unless she felt it was absolutely necessary. But she wasn’t sure convincing Alan that she was now one hundred percent in his corner would encourage him to share any confidences. She strongly suspected she knew where this meeting was headed. She braced herself, took a strengthening breath, as he walked down the narrow park path toward her.

  Her thoughts strayed to her father, to his unwitting role in all of this. Perhaps, at the very least, she could get Alan to relinquish more information on just what he knew about that old case that she didn’t. After all, with the added threat of her father’s life being on the line, perhaps he wouldn’t view sharing some of the other details as being all that detrimental to the hold he had on her. Alan was arrogant. That was a character trait she could exploit. And would.

  “I was surprised to hear from you,” he said.

  Laurel felt her knees knock, felt the muscles in her thighs begin to knot as she fought the shaking. “If we’re going to make this work, we have to have a game plan in place to deal with the various obstacles we’re most likely to face.” She kept her gaze directly on his, her tone brisk and totally businesslike. After all, to Alan this was a business transaction.

  As expected, he registered a blink of surprise at her superior tone, then a smile of admiration. He believed he’d won. And that she wasn’t at all happy about it. Which was exactly where she wanted him. His arrogance had gotten him into this mess…and she was determined that his arrogance would also be her ticket out of it.

  “Now that’s more in line with what I had in mind,” he said. “I’m glad you finally came around to seeing things my way.”

  She lifted a shoulder in an insignificant shrug. “You left me with no other way to view it.”

  He was smug, almost preening in his victory. “Well, there is that. And while I still see that temper of yours, simmering there beneath the surface, you can hardly hold me in contempt for my misdeeds, or any moral failing, seeing as we both now understand that everyone’s morals are up for sale. For the right price.”

  She worked hard not to give away her anxiousness at the opening he’d just given her. “And just what was the going rate for yours?” she snapped. “Just how much did the Rochambeaus have to pitch in to the campaign coffers to insure a little inside help at the district attorney’s office?”

  It was a bold move, but he’d opened the door. Could it really be this easy? She worked to keep her fingers from toying nervously on the railing.

  Alan’s pause in replying only lasted several seconds, but it felt like several lifetimes to her.

  “When you sell your soul, does the price tag really matter?” he replied, his face set in stone, cold, implacable.

  For the first time she noticed a bit of that haunted look edging his soulless eyes. She was very familiar with the signs, having seen them staring back at her in the mirror every morning for the past several weeks. It wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for, but it was potentially damning. A good defense attorney could still spin it his way, though. She needed more.

  “How can I be certain that if I do this for you, you’ll keep your end of the bargain?” she asked, back to business.

  “You can’t.”

  “Then why am I standing here?” She stepped back, as if to say he was wasting her time.

  His smug countenance slipped just a little. But it was enough for her to realize she did have some leverage here. She’d dangled the possibility that she was prepared to deliver him out of hell and into a rosy future.
Now that he’d tasted victory, he wouldn’t want to risk losing what he’d gained.

  “What I’m asking,” she went on, pressing her advantage, “is for some show of confidence from you. That my father will be spared.”

  “I think I can promise you that.”

  “And that his reputation will remain unscathed during your campaign against him.”

  Alan smiled and it made the hair on her arms stand on end. But it was a good reminder of just how evil this man could be. “I don’t know that I can give you that. The information I have is too valuable not to use to discredit my running mate.” He held up his hand. “And don’t cry to me about his sterling legacy. He was the one who made those decisions during that trial. I merely dug them up.”

  “Exactly what did you dig up? I’ve done my own digging, as I suspect you know. And while I agree that some of his rulings bordered on questionable, we’re not privy to what was argued in chambers, what reasons he might have had for the decisions he made. Unless you know something more that I don’t.” It was a direct challenge. She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  “I think perhaps that question should have been directed to me.”

  Laurel spun around, her mouth dropping open in shock to find her father stepping out on the path behind her.

  It took considerable control not to swing her gaze to the spot where Sean was hiding. Had he done this? Would he have betrayed her like this? She knew, even in that split second of reaction time that he would only have done it to protect her, because he saw it as the only way to make certain this was completely over. But she wasn’t sure, even with good motives, that she’d be able to forgive him for doing this without telling her.

  Her father stepped forward and her thoughts snapped back into focus. “Dad, what are you doing here?” She glanced at Alan, but his expression was just as confused and wary as hers likely was.

  “We’ll discuss your reasons for keeping me in the dark about this little situation when this is all over.”

  She started to argue, but he’d already turned his attention to Alan. “And you…I’d like to hear your answer, Mr. Bentley.” He moved until he was between the two of them. “What information is it you think you have on me? Because I’ll be more than glad to clear up any misconceptions you might have.”

  From Sean’s position in the trees, about twenty yards away, he could only see the side of Seamus Patrick’s face. But he had clear access to Bentley’s. All of which was being recorded on film. He was as shocked as Laurel had been at Seamus’s sudden arrival. Of course, he’d had the benefit of seeing him arrive before either Laurel or Alan had noted his appearance, but couldn’t alert Laurel. Showing himself now might stop Alan from revealing the most crucial pieces of information they were likely to get.

  He adjusted the frequency on his receptor to accommodate the more booming voice of Judge Patrick Senior.

  “Just what is it you think you know about that trial?”

  Alan visibly swallowed, but maintained a smug sort of defiance nonetheless. “I guess we’ll discover that when the campaign begins,” he boasted, the epitome of prosecutorial bluster.

  Seamus chuckled, completely at ease. Sean’s heart began to pound. They were so close…so close.

  “Oh, I don’t think that will come to pass, young man. Why don’t you share what you know now?”

  Alan’s face had paled slightly at Seamus’s heartily spoken words. “I’m not some greenhorn, fresh from law school, Mr. Patrick.”

  “‘Your Honor’ will do just fine. It’s a phrase you might want to reacquaint yourself with. For when you go in front of the judge to plea for your freedom.”

  Now Alan drew himself up straighter and taller, appearing grossly offended. But through the scope, Sean could count the individual beads of sweat that had sprung up on Bentley’s pale brow. He grinned, figuring he deserved to enjoy himself a little.

  “I can’t imagine what you’re referring to. I have done nothing wr—”

  “Has it occurred to you that I didn’t just happen upon this little meeting by accident?”

  Alan fidgeted with his tie, straightened his cuffs. “I assumed, despite Laurel’s pretense of surprise, that she brought you into this.” He turned toward her, regaining a bit of the arrogance Seamus’s sudden appearance had robbed from him. “You made a grave miscalculation, sweetheart.”

  Sean gripped the scope more tightly, a split second away from coming through the trees and not stopping until he had Alan Bentley’s neck squeezed between his hands. But Seamus beat him to it.

  He didn’t touch him. But then a man like Seamus didn’t have to, to intimidate. He stepped right up into Alan’s personal space, completely blocking Laurel and forcing Alan to step back.

  “You cowardly little bastard.”

  “Dad, don’t—”

  He ignored her, continued putting himself quite impressively into Alan’s personal space. Sean glanced down at his other scanner, just to assure himself that his readings were right and Alan wasn’t carrying any weapon on his person, silently thanking the guys at Beauregard for letting him have access to such highly sensitive equipment. He’d thank them personally just as soon as he returned it before anyone noticed it had gone missing.

  “I should have dealt with you directly the first time I got wind of your underhanded schemes. This will come as a surprise to you, I’m sure, but there have been people monitoring your actions for some time now.”

  Alan scoffed, but there wasn’t much sincerity behind it. “Why should I believe that?”

  “What you choose to believe is up to you, young man. But your days of blackmail and scamming are over.”

  “In my line of work, we trust evidence. You’ll pardon me if I reserve judgment until I’ve seen a shred of it. Thus far, it’s all been words.”

  “Sometimes, words are the most effective weapons. I’ve built my entire career on that belief.” Seamus smiled, then shook his head and turned his back on Alan, as if he were no longer worth his time or attention.

  He looked at Laurel, who was standing there somewhat speechless by the whole display. “Dad, how did you know about—”

  He put his hand on her arm. “We’ll talk about all that when this is done.”

  “You might as well have your little conversation now,” Alan informed them, scraping together some semblance of superiority. “It might be your only chance.”

  Seamus didn’t even bother glancing his way, which was the ultimate insult to someone like Bentley. His face began to turn red and his mouth tightened as if he were struggling to maintain his composure. “Do you not understand what I’m capable of? Who I am dealing with?”

  Seamus said, “Excuse me” to Laurel, then turned to face Bentley once more. With his hands loosely linked in front of him, his legs braced wide, his demeanor so relaxed it bordered on jovial, Sean realized what an impressive prosecutor he must have made. And what a dangerous one he’d made, as well.

  “I’m very aware of exactly who you are dealing with, although I’m not so certain you do. In fact, you might want to check in with them to see if they still feel your partnership with them is a viable one.” He glanced at his watch. “Although they might be a bit busy at the moment.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the raid presently under way on a warehouse about twenty-five minutes from here. If all goes well, any number of the Rochambeau ‘family’ members are being taken into federal custody as we speak. In fact, a few hours from now, I imagine they’ll be sufficiently caught up in trying to determine how to fight off the list of federal racketeering charges levied against them to not care overly much what trouble you may or may not be having with one recalcitrant judge.”

  Alan swallowed hard then, and it was obvious he was scrabbling to gather every last scrap of bravado he had in him. “You must think I’m an idiot or something. You want me to think this is all over and give myself up.” He laughed, but there was nothing remote
ly jovial or self-assured about the sound. “Well, there’s something you should know about your daughter before you get too smug.”

  Laurel put her hand on her father’s sleeve and began to move between them. Seamus held her back, but it didn’t keep her from speaking. “All I ever wanted was for you to leave me alone. You refused. You dragged me into this because you were too weak to climb the ladder on your own strengths.”

  He snorted, then swung his gaze to Seamus. “I don’t know if she told you, but she was here cutting a deal with me to get Jack Rochambeau off—again,” he added with a sneer. “I guess it’s something the Patricks make a habit of. I’m not the only one climbing into bed with the ‘family.’ In fact, it’s getting mighty crowded in there.”

  Seamus reached for Bentley.

  Laurel shrieked.

  Sean came out of hiding.

  14

  “LET HIM GO, sir,” Sean requested calmly, reaching inside his jacket.

  “Who in the hell are you?” Bentley demanded, yanking himself from Seamus’s grip.

  Laurel spun around, both relieved and scared that Sean had abandoned his cover. She saw him reach inside his coat, move forward. “Sean, don’t—”

  Sean pulled out his badge, sending her a brief look. She’d thought he was going to pull a gun on them. He shook his head just slightly, chidingly, obviously aware of and amused by her assumption.

  “State your business, young man,” Seamus ordered.

  Laurel’s mouth dropped open. Her father hadn’t known about this? About Sean? Then how in the hell—? She looked to Sean, who had obviously noted her surprise. That meant he now knew she’d thought he’d betrayed her. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed silently.

  He gave her a nod, a brief twitch of the lips, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be okay. What they had was stronger than a misunderstanding, a bad judgment call. She looked to her father then and realized fully just what Sean had been trying to tell her with that look. She and her father had that same bond. And it was strong enough to weather anything, even asking if one of them had made a mistake. No matter the severity or the potential fallout.