Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(32)
She turned away from him and shoved open the door. Cold air hit her like a slap, but it was what she needed. Sam hurried forward, determined to get inside the house.
“Samantha.”
She froze at Max’s voice. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he followed behind her. Then he was there, catching her fingers, and curling his own around them. “You never know who’s watching, baby.” A sensual reminder, one with an edge of steel.
She glanced over, her eyes slanted toward him.
“I don’t really know you.” His head leaned down, and his lips brushed against hers. A lover’s caress. “But then, you don’t really know me, either.” A warning.
His mouth pressed tight against her lips. Hard, insistent.
She opened her mouth for him. Not because someone might be watching, but because she wanted to kiss him, and screw anyone out there. Let them watch. Their tongues met. They tasted. And the cold seemed to fade away.
Back with him. In his arms. Her heart beat faster, and her sex began to moisten. In his bed, she hadn’t needed to pretend. She didn’t have to lie about being strong. In bed, it was just bodies, needs.
Man.
Woman.
Rain began to fall on them, softly at first. Little drops that tapped on her skin, then harder, steadier as the storm that had threatened all day finally came calling.
Max’s head rose, and he stared down at her with water on his eyelashes and drops sliding down his cheeks. She tasted the rain on her tongue, and she still tasted him.
“Max!” A woman’s cry. High and frantic.
Sam’s head turned. Beth stood in the entranceway, waving. “The phone!” Beth shouted, “It’s—”
They ran for her.
Max beat Sam inside, and Beth pointed down the hallway. “Frank—he’s in his study. They called his cell. I-I know it’s them…”
Sam’s shoes squeaked and the water dripped onto the expensive tile as she raced for the study.
“Yes, I damn well got your proof,” Frank shouted into the phone, and Sam shut the study door, securing them inside. “Now you listen, and you listen good—”
He broke off, and Sam saw his eyes narrow. His thick Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought you wanted… five million.” His gaze darted to Max. Another hard swallow. “No, I don’t need another delivery. I’ll pay, you bastard, just don’t hurt him anymore!” Frank ran a shaking hand through his hair.
A victim. That’s what Fuck ’em Frank had become. Afraid. Desperate. He didn’t like being this way. She could see the fight in his eyes, but he didn’t have a choice, and he didn’t know what to do.
Sam looked away. She didn’t like seeing the victims. Couldn’t seem to deal with them anymore. Luke was great with them. He could always put them at ease and get every bit of witness testimony from them. The victims just made her feel… weak. Because I’m one of them?
“When.” The word snapped out from Frank like a command, but broke like a plea. The age spots on the back of his hand stood out in stark contrast to his white-knuckled grip on the phone. “I-I’ll have to go to the bank again. I’ll go and…” He broke off, listening. “Yes, he’s here.”
They want you. Frank mouthed the words to Max.
“We’ll make the delivery.” Frank’s gray eyes darted to her face. “Just the two of us, you have my-my word.” His shoulders slumped, and he ended the call.
Sam advanced on him. She took his phone and used caller ID to find the kidnapper’s number. The number was listed this time. The guy hadn’t blocked the number for this call. Damn odd. Their kidnappers seemed too smart for a slip like this.
But everyone screws up….
Sam took out her phone and immediately texted the number to Luke.
“They want ten million now.” Frank sounded lost. “Ten million. Bastard said the price went up because it took us so long to get to the bank.”
“He’s playing you.” Sam typed fast. 10 million. “The ransom was always going to be ten million.”
“Then why didn’t he say so from the beginning?” Frank yelled, turning on her, and really, it was only to be expected. That much rage, bubbling up, had to go somewhere.
Sam knew she was just a convenient target. She inhaled slowly before she answered. “Because this guy likes to jerk people around. He knows you’ll be frantic tonight, making calls to the banker at home, calling your lawyer, and busting ass to get the rest of his money. You’ll be weak and controllable. Exactly what he wants.”
Frank blinked.
“He’s upped the ransom before. He didn’t demand more with the first victim. I don’t know, maybe he thought after the deal that he could have gotten more.” The kidnapper wasn’t making that mistake again. “It’s the way he plays now.”
“Plays?” Max repeated. “We’re not playing. This is my brother’s life.”
“I know, and I need you to trust me. I can help bring Quinlan home.” Her gaze held his. “Tell me the location of the drop site.”
But Frank hesitated. “He said only me and Max.”
Sam’s hold on her phone tightened. Not the perps’ MO. One person always made the drop. Just one. “The SSD will monitor from a distance.” It was the same thing that she’d told Max. “The kidnappers will never know the agents are there, but we’ll be able to track them after the drop-off. We’ll find Quinlan—”