LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

call the police.”

      She called from the bedroom. “I’m wondering the same thing. We can’t just leave him there on the kitchen floor. H-he has a wife.”

      Riley swallowed. The beach girl liked married men? He cleared his throat. “We’ll call the police as soon as we’re out of here.”

      “Wait a minute.” She stumbled from the bedroom in a pair of jeans, pulling a T-shirt over her head. He caught a glimpse of a lacy white bra. “Won’t that look suspicious? There’s a dead man in my house, and I’m not even here.”

      “I’ll clear things up for you later. You’re not safe in this house.”

      Her eyes narrowed as she hooked a finger along the gold chain around her neck, pulling a large locket out of her T-shirt. “You’re not safe in this house. For whatever reason, you don’t want the cops to find out about your activities. And why would you? You murdered a man on the beach and you kidnapped me.”

      Frustration gave an edge to his voice as he jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. “I didn’t murder him. Don’t you get it? They discovered your identity and came after you.”

      “They came after you.” She hugged herself and rubbed her upper arms. “They probably figured you used me to escape. That’s why they came to this house and killed Carlos. Once you get away from me, I’ll be safe.”

      Too bad his wife hadn’t figured that one out.

      Pain sliced behind his eyes, and he ran a hand over his hair, clasping it in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “You’re in it, Amy, whether you want to be or not. These people don’t leave loose ends.”

      “I’m not a loose end.” She widened her stance and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I didn’t see those people. I don’t know who they are. But I know who you are.”

      Damn. She didn’t trust him. And why would she? He didn’t trust himself to protect her either.

      He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Could he leave her here? He’d take off for his safe house, and she could stay here and call the cops. She’d tell her wild story of one scuba diver killing another and people shooting at them from a boat. But there would be no body. There would be no blood. No bullets. No evidence at all.

      The Velasquez Drug Cartel didn’t leave evidence. Or witnesses.

      Even if the cops believed Amy’s fantastic story, they couldn’t do much to protect her. If the Velasquez gang decided to kill her, the cops couldn’t stop them.

      Or maybe he’d overreacted from the get-go. From the minute she’d valiantly pulled his enemy’s body from the ocean, Riley had felt protective of her. She’d only been doing her job and had landed in the middle of an international intrigue.

      If he distanced himself from her now, it just might save her life. He was dangerous company.

      “Okay.” Riley blew out a long breath. “I’ll stay with you until the cops arrive, and then I’ll head out the back door.”

      “Really?” Her voice squeaked and her eyebrows shot up.

      “Really.” He tugged at the wet suit around his waist and peeled it off his body, standing on one foot at a time to free his legs from the constricting neoprene. “What are you going to tell the police?”

      Her gaze raked his body as her chest rose and fell. “The truth.”

      “The guys on the boat will have removed the body of their comrade and my scuba gear from the beach by now.” He nudged the wet suit lying in a twisted heap on the carpet. “I can leave this here if you think it will bolster your story.”

      “Why would I need to bolster my story?” She dragged her gaze from his wet trunks, meeting his eyes, a pleasing shade of pink washing over her cheeks.

      The beach girl had been checking him out. And he liked it.

      Riley’s fingers plowed through his long hair. “You plan to report a murder on the beach with no body. Your ex-boyfriend is dead on your kitchen floor with no signs of a struggle or break-in. Why is he your ex? Bad breakup?”

      “No. Yes.” She folded her arms across her stomach. “He lied to me about being married.”

      Riley whistled through his teeth. “Do you have a history of violence?”

      “Not yet.” Amy clenched her fists and took a step toward him.

      “I’m just sayin’.” A strange sense of relief flooded his veins. He knew a valiant woman like Amy wouldn’t knowingly get mixed up with a married man.

      “Do you think they’ll suspect me of murdering Carlos? I’m pretty strong, but not strong enough to strangle a man. I broke it off as soon as I discovered his marital status. Why would I kill him and then call the cops? It would look much worse if I ran out now, wouldn’t it?”

      She covered her face with her hands, and guilt stabbed his belly. He didn’t want her to feel worse. He wanted to smooth everything over and make sure she kept safe after he left.

      He tripped over the wet suit as he rushed to her side and curled an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. Her T-shirt felt soft against his bare chest, brushing a tingle of desire along his skin.

      Her salty hair tickled his lips as he spoke. “Just tell the truth. You’ll be fine. There’s no evidence that you killed Carlos even if the police find your story unbelievable.”

      “C-can’t you stay and talk to the cops with me?” She clutched his arm, her nails digging into his skin.

      “I wish I could help you out, beach girl, but I can’t afford the time if they decide to arrest me.” He couldn’t afford the exposure either. Having his picture splashed all over the newspapers in connection with two murders would torpedo any chance he’d have to follow his lead on the Velasquez Cartel and any of its customers.

      And right now the Velasquez lead was the only thread they had in connection with Jack Coburn’s disappearance.

      Amy took a shaky breath and stepped back. “You’re not going to tell me anything else, are you?”

      “No.”

      “Then you’d better get ready to leave so I can call 911. I can’t bear to be here with Carlos like that.” Her bottom lip quivered, and her dark eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

      Riley cupped her face with one hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m sorry about Carlos. What do you think he was doing here?”

      At his touch, she’d closed her eyes, but now her eyelids flew open, droplets of tears trembling on the edges of her long lashes. “Huh?”

      “Carlos. Why was he in your house and how did he get in? Did you give him a key?”

      “I gave him a key once to feed my cat when I was gone for the weekend. But he gave it back to me.”

      “He made a copy.”

      Her eyes widened. “He wouldn’t do that.”

      “Really? The man entered your home while you were at work. I thought you broke up with him a few months ago?”

      “I did.” She wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

      “Did he contact you after the breakup?”

      “A few times but…” Her arms flailed at her sides.

      “Face it, Amy. The guy never got over you. He probably came here hoping he could change your mind. Didn’t work out too well for him.”

      She dug her fists in her hips. “The back door is in the kitchen. You can leave before the cops get here.”

      “If he made a copy of your key, it’s probably still in his pocket. Do you want me to take it?”

      “So

Скачать книгу