Big Easy Temptation (The Perfect Gentlemen #3)(106)

“And we catch more criminals with waterboarding,” Dax muttered.

Connor groaned. “Don’t get her started on Gitmo. Please. I promise to very nicely question the man who might be aiding the Russian mafia in trying to blackmail the president of the United States. There. See, you could have stayed with Freddy.”

“Uh huh, and that’s when you waterboard the man. I’m naive, my love, not stupid. I’m here merely as an observer,” Lara explained. “Why didn’t you stay behind if you need that file you’re trying to retrieve so badly?”

“What file are you waiting on?” Holland asked.

Connor’s gaze flashed up, meeting Dax’s in the rearview mirror as a rare patch of moonlight beamed into the vehicle. “The Natalia Kuilikov file.”

“Why do you need that?” She frowned.

“I want to check something.” Connor’s gaze skidded back to the road.

That sounded like his best friend’s “I know something and don’t want to tell” voice. It made Dax edgy, but he wasn’t going to interrogate Connor now. “Tell me when I should park. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“Don’t worry about Morgan,” Holland said. “I watched him earlier. He’s in no shape to run. He’s in poor health himself. He’s hiding out here so he doesn’t have to run. When we cased the place earlier, I didn’t see a boat dock. He’s on the water, but I seriously doubt the dude is going to swim for it.”

“In these waters? Not unless he’s suicidal.” Out this far, the bayou had plenty of critters that didn’t mind a little human feast. “I don’t want him escaping. We need answers.”

“We’ll get them,” Connor promised. “At least we’ll get whatever this guy knows. I doubt he knows everything. But he can point us in the right direction.”

“I want to know who killed my father.” A burning urge to right the wrongs done to his father had settled inside him that moment Freddy had given him true, hold-up-in-court proof that his father hadn’t been the man leading a teenage girl to a scuzzy motel room so that he could rape her. Deep down, Dax had always known it, but seeing proof centered him in a way he hadn’t been for years.

Now he could turn his gut-wrenching anxiety on the woman he loved and wondering whether she would leave him for good after tonight.

Up ahead, he saw the house his father’s aide-de-camp was living in these days. Peter Morgan had retired from the Navy recently, but it looked as if he hadn’t saved up much. The “house” was more like a shack. A glow emanated from one of the windows, so at least the place had some kind of power. Dax remembered Peter Morgan as a smart man, ambitious and friendly. He’d thought Morgan was not only his father’s man, but also his friend.

He’d been very wrong and now he was finally going to learn some hows and whys.

He parked the car and let the women slip out. They shut their doors quietly. Before Connor had the chance to move, Dax turned to his best friend. “What are you not saying?”

“I’m checking on something. Don’t worry about it. I’m crossing all my t’s and dotting the i’s on this one,” Connor informed him. “I put a call in to Roman before we headed out here. He knows where we’re going and when to expect us back. If we don’t call him within an hour, he’s going to come looking for us.”

“You think we’re being followed?” Dax hadn’t seen anyone on the road, but he trusted Connor’s gut.

“I’m just being cautious.”

Holland tapped on his window and he opened the door. “Is there something I should know?”

He eased out and tried to reassure her. “Connor’s just being paranoid.”

Holland narrowed her eyes as Connor closed up his laptop, shoved it in its bag, and emerged from the car. “I think we’re being watched. I can’t say why except that I can feel it in my gut. Someone’s following us.”

Connor nodded. “They’re good. I didn’t actually see anyone on the road, but I think they’re here, too.”

“We should leave, then,” Dax said.

“And give up what might be our one chance?” Holland asked. “If we walk away now, Peter Morgan will suffer a timely accident. Unless someone here thinks he’s a bigger part of this conspiracy than we ever dreamed.”

Dax had to shake his head. “No. He’s a pawn. But I don’t want to risk you or Lara.”

Connor sent him a meaningful stare. “You know I can hold my own.”

No arguing with that. Dax had seen the aftermath of Connor’s “work” in the Crawford building the night he’d been shot. It had been a surgical slaughter of enemies. Lara was a question mark but Connor would never let anything happen to her. “Yeah.”

Holland frowned and she eased the SIG from its place in her holster. “I’ll watch your back, Captain. When was the last time you were in a close-quarter fight?”

Sometimes he understood why Roman wanted a quiet, demure woman. “Not lately. Thanks for the reminder, sweetheart.”

“Well, when I need someone to direct operations on a battleship, I’ll give you a call. Now it’s time for you to let me do my job.” She eased into his space.

Fuck. No sweet, demure woman would ever get his motor running the way this one did. He’d take his slightly crazy female any day of the week. He brushed his lips over hers. “All right, then. Keep an eye on Lara, too. She’s a pacifist.”