Baddest Bad Boys(73)

Picking up the prepaid cell phone he’d purchased the day before, he dialed a number.

The person answered on the first ring. “Yes?”

“You screwed up. My fee just doubled.”

“Don’t pull that crap on me.”

“You were supposed to handle DeLuca.”

“There were problems. Tell me what happened.”

He summarized the evening’s events. “DeLuca ended up looking like a hero.”

“Where’s Ellie now?”

“With him.”

“Did either of them see you? Or anything that can be tied to you?”

“No.” He’d left his kit behind, but the items in it were common, untraceable. Wal-Mart probably sold thousands of rolls of duct tape a day.

“Then lay low until I figure something out. She’ll probably return to New York, but security will be tightened.”

“We both know that’s not a problem. Just get DeLuca out of the picture and I’ll handle the rest.”

5
“Deal?” Ellie wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly. He wanted a week? “Max, I—”

The broken door swung open just then, its squeaking hinge a warning. A uniformed officer pushed into the room, flashlight in one hand, a gun in the other. “Police! Put your hands where I can see them.”

Ellie closed her eyes against the blinding light. Her hands were already clutched in front of her, holding onto the blanket for dear life. If that didn’t qualify as visible, well…he could shoot her. She’d been caught naked enough times tonight.

“This is the owner of the house, Ellie DeLuca.” Max had raised his hands, while leaning slightly closer to her.

Another officer and a blond man wearing a suit came in. The civilian pointed to Max. “That’s my boss, Max DeLuca.”

The first officer nodded, holstered his weapon. “Sorry, ma’am. Are you folks okay?”

“Yes.” Ellie hugged the blanket and moved to get up. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dressed.”

Max shifted her back into his arms and stood. “I’ll carry you up.”

She choked back a protest. No one listened to naked people anyway. She’d have more sway fully dressed.

“Crime scene won’t like it,” the officer said.

“We probably obliterated the crime scene coming back in here,” Max pointed out. “But with the storm, we had no choice.”

The officer shrugged. “Try not to touch anything the intruder might have touched.”

Ellie suddenly recalled something else about her assailant. “You won’t find fingerprints. He wore gloves. Thin, latex ones. Like a doctor or dentist uses.”

The officer pulled out a small notebook. “We’ll need a full description.”

“Give us five minutes and a flashlight,” Max said.

The blond man handed his light to Ellie. Max nodded and turned away. “That’s Gerard Warhaven, DSI’s new chief of security, by the way. I’ll introduce you properly when we come back down.”

Upstairs, he went straight to Ellie’s old room and set her on the bed. Her skin prickled as she swept the beam around the dark room. Had that creep come in here?

Max stepped away.

“Don’t leave!” She swung the light toward him.

He was at her side in an instant. His hands closed over hers, squeezing them. “I’m not going anywhere, El. Just tell me what you need.”

“My clothes are in my suitcase. By the dresser. And my shoes—”

“Stay put.” He swung her suitcase onto the bed. “Don’t worry about shoes right now.”

After she pulled out underwear, jeans, and a tee, he turned away, giving her privacy. The lump in her throat swelled as she dressed. “All clear,” she said a few moments later.

“We need to go back down.” Max moved in, but instead of picking her up he cupped her chin. “I know this isn’t easy. I’ll get us out of here as fast as I can.”

Us. Uncertainty—about everything—threatened to overwhelm her. “Did I even remember to thank you?”

He scooped her off the bed. “Not yet. But then, I probably forgot to thank you, too.”

She had looped her arms around his neck, grateful he carried the flashlight this time. “For what? Dragging you out in the middle of a stormy night?”

“I’m talking about our deal, El. Thank you for saying yes.”

He thought she’d agreed? “A week?”

They were at the top of the staircase now. “We’ll talk about it later.” Max started down the steps. “Okay?”

Ellie took a deep breath. If she wanted to protest, to preserve her right to renegotiate, now was the time to speak up. Who was she kidding? A week with Max? “Deal.”

As soon as he set her on the couch, the power came back on. She blinked at the sudden brightness, tried to take in the people milling around.

Gerard Warhaven came over. Max introduced them. “I’d like Gerard to examine your foot, Ellie.”

“I was a field medic in the Army,” Gerard explained over her halfhearted protests. He cleaned the wound, then used butterfly sutures to close it before he bandaged it. “I’ll see if I can find a couple ibuprofen to ease the pain while you talk to the cops.”