Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Five minutes before…
He opened the front door himself. Yes, yes, he had security. He had staff who could have done the job for him, but Atlas opened the door to the Fed himself. I know how to open a freaking door.
FBI Special Agent Gage Emerick glared at him, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched.
Fury clear to see in every line of his face.
His parter, Sharon Hinkle, shifted nervously behind him, foot to foot, and her head craned so that she could get a look at Atlas.
She blinked when she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her green eyes widened.
“Took you long enough to answer the damn door,” Gage snapped.
Atlas shrugged. “I was…occupied.”
Gage’s jaw hardened even more. “Don’t you have people who could answer the door for you?”
“I do. But in light of recent events, I gave orders that only I was to determine which visitors were allowed in my home.” And, technically, he hadn’t allowed the Feds in yet.
They were still on the other side of the doorway.
“But my people did see you through the security feed. I was alerted that you were here, shouting to see me. So, here I am.” No sense having the discussion in the doorway, though.
“Do come in.” He turned away, giving them his back, and he marched across the foyer.
They followed. He heard their quick steps and the slamming of the door. But just as he turned for his study—
“This isn’t a social visit,” Gage snarled.
“Oh, you mean you didn’t come back because you find me incredibly charming and you want to be my new best friend?” He slowly turned back to face the Feds. His arms lifted to cross over his chest. “How disappointing.”
Gage huffed out a breath. “I know what you’ve done.”
Highly doubtful. “You know that I gave Lily the most satisfying night of her life?” A deliberate taunt that brought him untold delight. Sue him, he kissed and told. Because you will never touch her again.
The Fed surged toward him.
Sharon yelped and grabbed her partner. “No, no! Stop!”
Gage stopped, but his face had mottled with fury.
“I was occupied,” Atlas said again. He simply couldn’t help himself. Sometimes, he enjoyed being a prick. Especially to this bastard. You used my Lily. But…
Fuck.
Time to get down to business. He had assured Lily that he’d handle the Fed, so Atlas supposed he should handle the man. “Tonya Johnson.”
Sharon sharply inhaled. A dramatic, loud sound.
They already know about her.
And wasn’t that interesting? Either Gage and his partner were a lot better at their job than Atlas had initially realized or…
I’m about to be fucked. And not in the fantastic way that he’d fucked with Lily.
He waited, didn’t move. Time for the Feds to put their cards on the table.
“You are familiar with Tonya Johnson?” Sharon asked him, voice cautious.
“No. I’ve never met the woman in my life.
” True story. “But Lily’s friend, ah, Sloane—Sloane Armstrong, I believe is her name.
” He more than believed it. He had a full report on Sloane in his Lily file.
“She called this morning. She’d seen a news story about Tonya.
” His gaze slid between the two agents. Lingered on Gage.
“Sloane was concerned about the woman’s death—”
“Her murder,” Gage bit out.
“Because she recognized Tonya’s name.”
Gage kept glaring.
Sharon released him. Stepped to his side. “We are aware that Tonya’s father was Lyle Johnson. The big rig driver who killed all of those hitchhikers.”
Atlas kept his face expressionless.
“Guessing information about Tonya was included in the files taken from Lily’s house,” Sharon added with a questioning quirk of her brows at Atlas.
“We still haven’t been given the all clear to check Lily’s house,” he returned. “But if we are allowed to go in now, I’m sure we can provide you with a full listing of missing items.” He dropped his arms.
“Do you wait for all clears? Is that what you do?” Gage wanted to know. “Or do you just, oh, say break into a place when the mood strikes you?”
Oh, now he’s surprising me. But Atlas blinked innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean Detective Benedict Swain’s house. I’m talking about you, breaking into his place. See, I stopped by there first thing this morning. It was trashed to hell and back.”
“And you’re accusing me of doing that?” He rolled back his shoulders. “Sounds like the same sort of trashing that happened at Lily’s place. I don’t know why you would think I was linked to that type of activity. I’m an upstanding businessman. Ask anyone.” Well, except dead Detective Benedict Swain.
“You were there.” Gage took an aggressive step toward him.
“At Lily’s place? Yes. I was. So were you. You saw me there—”
“Benedict’s,” Gage bit out.
“When?”
But Gage just stared at him with his furious eyes, and Atlas knew the man was working on conjecture, not truth. Though the fellow’s instincts were way better than Atlas had assumed. “How about we get back to the murder victim?” Atlas asked. He thought he sounded polite.
Footsteps were coming down the stairs. A heavy tread. Desmond, frowning.
He should be with Lily. I told him to stay with her.
Atlas lifted a hand, and Desmond stilled half-way down the stairs. A good position to guard Lily and to listen to his conversation with the Feds.
Gage glanced toward the stairs. Swept his gaze over Desmond, then returned his attention to Atlas.
“Benedict is a murder victim. They pulled his remains out of the cabin—what was left of the cabin,” Gage amended.
“His badge was still on his body. Fucking burned to him. The poor bastard is unrecognizable.”
Atlas did not let his expression change. But he had a flash…a very long ago flash…
A smoke-filled room. Four beds. All bunk beds because that’s what they’d had in the group home.
The flames had been billowing, eating up the wood and the mattress.
His clothes had been scattered on the bottom bunk, and they’d already been burning, and Benedict had been right there, just watching.
Laughing. Not even realizing how close he was to the fire.
Atlas had tackled him before the flames could reach Benedict. That time. That time.
He kept his pose relaxed. “Tonya Johnson,” he said. “She’s the victim I was talking about.”
“You sure do like saying her name,” Gage noted. He edged closer. “Why is that? Is it because you get a little thrill thinking about your victim? Reliving the moment?”
Nope. He’d been wrong. Gage was clueless. Utterly. “She isn’t my victim.”
“No? Then you didn’t get her address from Lily’s files? You didn’t sneak off in the middle of the night and head to Shreveport? You didn’t go into her bar and convince Tonya to walk out with you?”
“No.” Easy. Calm. “I didn’t.” What a crock of BS. How did this man solve any cases for the FBI? Oh, wait, he’d been using Lily to solve the cases. Check.
Gage took another step toward him. “You’re telling me that you didn’t drive your knife into Tonya’s stomach, then yank it to the side—to the right, to the left—to cut her wide open, and then stab her until she died?”
Sharon’s hand had dropped to her waist, hovering near her holster.
Gage’s hand was in the same position. Way too close to his weapon for comfort.
Just what did these two Feds expect him to do? Lose all control because they were asking him a few idiot questions? “Haven’t been to Shreveport recently,” he retorted. “Been a bit busy. What with getting kidnapped and becoming engaged and all.”
“I recognized Tonya’s name. I heard the news story, too.” Gage’s nostrils flared. “I called the Shreveport PD. I interviewed the responding officer. He found some interesting items with the vic.”
Based on the smugness in Gage’s tone, this was not going to be good news.
“You’re a rich man, Atlas.”
Desmond still lingered on the stairs. Watching. Listening.
“Rich men buy gold cufflinks, don’t they?” Gage wanted to know. “Expensive, distinct cufflinks.”
Atlas did not blink.
“They get their initials on their gold cufflinks,” Gage continued.
“Bet you didn’t realize it, but before you killed Tonya, she stole them right off you.
See, the bouncer revealed that was what she did.
Quick sleight of hand. She’d fleece men in the dark.
Make out with them, steal from them, and her bouncer buddy would send them running so that she and Mico could cut profits.
She took your cufflinks, even as you killed her.
One was found in her pocket. One was still gripped in her blood-stained, dead fingers. ”
Hell.
Gage smiled at him. “The bouncer chased her attacker off, by the way. Didn’t get a look at his face, but he described him. Physically. Your height. Your build. And guess what else?”
He wasn’t in the mood to guess.
“I got the cop on scene to send me a pic of the cufflinks. Just another piece of evidence. Another nail in your coffin.”
“I don’t think I’m dead, so I don’t need a coffin. Thanks, though.”
“Tonya Johnson is dead. You killed her.”
No, he had not.
“You are a killer, Atlas Bennett.” Spittle flew from Gage’s mouth. “And I’m placing you under arrest.”
Oh, this should be fun. “I’d like to see you try—”
“No!” Lily flew down the stairs. “Absolutely not! You are not arresting, Atlas!”
He turned his head toward her and smiled.
“Ah, there she is. The love of my life. My reason for being. My beautiful and bold protector.” He lifted a hand toward her.
“Lily, sweets, I am so thrilled that you put on clothing.” The dress did look sensational on her.
“Well, not thrilled for myself. I do adore you naked, but Gage doesn’t get the privilege of seeing you that way…
not ever again.” He cut his stare toward the Fed. “Not if he wants to keep his eyes.”
“What. The. Fuck?” Gage gaped at him.
“You do want to keep them, don’t you?”
“She isn’t the damn love of your life!”
Why? Just because I can’t love? But what if…he could?
“And you don’t threaten a Fed!” Gage raged.