Chapter Fourteen
When Spence organized the counterattack to the expected ambush at the Clover Clubhouse, he wanted to be first in line to confront Julio.
To deliver the first blow. To knock that smug bastard off his feet.
Not the best attitude but Spence wasn’t a cop.
He wasn’t bound by legalities and restrictions.
As a lawyer, he was technically an officer of the court and expected to follow rules.
But Julio deserved punishment. Swift and hard. For the way he’d terrorized Mollie.
She was a lot stronger than people thought. Braver, too. Her pretty blue eyes shone with the kind of determination he’d seen as a Ranger when working with displaced victims in war-torn countries. Those who fought back were those who survived. That was Mollie.
Working with Jamison and Rossi, he had deployed his security team throughout the house and grounds of the mansion that had once belonged to Irma Winchell.
The greatest complication came from the crowd of people who had left the church and rushed right over for the reception.
They ranged in age from toddlers whose parents used the free childcare facility funded by Irma’s foundation to ladies in their eighties who had grown up with Irma.
Mingling among them, his security staff watched for signs of threat and danger.
Spence had communication links with Jamison, Rossi and Quintana, who was inside the house.
Thus far, there hadn’t been much to report.
Rossi mentioned seeing a tall guy with a cowboy hat, which made Spence think of Marshal Youngblood in Denver.
He couldn’t be here, could he? According to what Marshal Easton told them, Youngblood was supposed to be protecting Mollie, not working for Julio.
Spence had stationed himself in the position closest to the shed Mollie called the Clover Clubhouse.
Still wearing his navy blue suit to cover the shoulder holster, he’d hidden in the leafy branches of one of the nearby cottonwood trees, watching and waiting and telling himself that bringing Mollie to Bethany’s house wasn’t a huge mistake.
She’d be safe…as long as she didn’t venture out of the storage room on the third floor.
And then he saw her, striding down the hill toward the so-called clubhouse. She came directly toward him, showing no shame at all for breaking her promise to stay in the safe location. She’d conned him.
Somehow, she’d found time to change clothes into an amazingly short skirt that showed off her legs. Stopping at the base of the tree, she tilted her head up and said, “We need to talk, Spence.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to quit acting like Tarzan and climb down from that tree.”
His perch in the cottonwood felt damn silly. While Julio was using snipers with high-tech rifles, Spence crouched in a cottonwood. He swung down from the branch and landed on the ground beside her. “Okay, Mollie. Why did you leave the third-floor storage room?”
“Because it was stupid.” She stepped closer to him. Her slender hands grasped his lapels and pulled him closer to her. “Let’s talk about us. You and me, Spence.”
Her voice swirled around him, demanding and inviting at the same time. He’d been imagining this moment with her since they met. Their prior hugs and kisses had fueled his desire, and he was ready for more. “Now?”
“Why not?” she purred. “I can’t think of a better time.”
On tiptoe, she pressed her mouth against his and lashed her tongue across his lips.
An expert move that he thoroughly enjoyed.
He hadn’t thought Mollie was so experienced.
After another, harder, more aggressive kiss, he wondered why the contact didn’t feel the same as before.
Their kiss lacked electricity. Did she feel it, too?
He had to ask, “What changed your mind?”
“Being close to you. I told you how much you excite me. I can’t hold myself back.”
Her words struck a jarring note. Sure, they were drawn to each other, but they didn’t talk about it. Mollie wasn’t this forward. She was practical. This felt…wrong.
When she reached up and caressed the line of his jaw, he caught her hand. Her nails gleamed with a recent manicure. Her skin felt velvety and smooth. Not like a woman who worked with her hands in a garden shop. Where were the scratches from thorns? The calluses?
This was not Mollie. He grabbed her wrist and held on tight. “Nice to meet you, Madison.”
His cowboy boots clunked with every step as Youngblood crossed the concrete barn floor and came closer to Mollie. He squatted down to her level and stared into her eyes. “You caused me a whole lot of trouble,” he said. “Before you and your dad came along, I had never lost a witness.”
“I had to leave. Leave Denver.”
Her voice came out garbled. She couldn’t control her mouth.
Loose lips sink ships. Why did she think of that?
Her mind wandered, following a path she couldn’t consciously navigate.
If the hankie pressed against her nose had chloroform, that would explain her dizziness.
She didn’t know much about the drug, but knew it caused hallucinating.
That would explain the presence of Youngblood, who shouldn’t be in Oregon.
And it would make sense of the lady in a hat who turned into a stout man.
Youngblood gripped her jaw in his fingers. “Pay attention, bitch. Why did you run?”
The pressure on her chin hurt, and the pain was real. Not an illusion. She tried to pull away but could only manage clumsy, ineffective movements. “Men with guns. Shooting at me.”
“Well, aren’t you the little drama queen?” He scoffed and loosened his grasp. “Nobody was after you. Nobody gives a damn about you. They were supposed to kill Spence Cameron before he sweet-talked you into coming to Oregon.”
“Why?” she managed to gasp.
“Julio didn’t want you to have top-notch protection. He’d already relocated to Cloverdell and didn’t want you to show up and contact your sister.”
“Inheritance,” she said to explain. Not that she needed to tell him anything. “Art gallery.”
“We heard you were coming into money.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two men who had dragged her into the barn. “Do you believe her? Does she look wealthy?”
The short, plump man had exchanged his little-old-lady dress and feathered hat for a baggy gray sweat suit. “This one is no beauty. Not like Princesa.”
“We’re identical,” Mollie said.
A burst of anger cut through the confusion clouding her mind.
How many times would she have to hear how much prettier her sister was?
Even though they were identical? Her fingers clenched into a fist, and she felt the rounded surface of the canister in her hand.
A reminder that she wasn’t helpless. As soon as she was able to stand and run, she needed to use the pepper spray.
There might only be one chance for her to escape.
Youngblood towered over her. “Nobody is going to hurt you. Julio Flores will be making you a proposition, and I’d advise you to accept his generosity. Do you hear me?”
She bobbed her head. She’d heard. And had no intention of going along with anything Julio said.
* * *
When Madison chuckled, Spence heard the difference between her and Mollie. Madison’s laughter skated at the edge of derision. It was the kind of laugh that came before I-told-you-so. Mollie’s giggles were without guile. She expressed amusement without sinister undertones.
“How did you know I wasn’t Mollie?”
Coldly, Spence said, “She’s a better kisser.”
“I doubt that very much.”
Spence had an incoming call. He touched his earbud to answer. “What is it?”
“Mollie escaped,” Quintana said. “She tricked Thornton and locked him in. He had to shoot the lock to get out.”
“Where is she?”
“Don’t know.”
He told her to contact Rossi and Jamison to organize a search. They had to find her. Someone must have seen her.
Spence yanked Madison closer to him and stared into the familiar face of this woman who was a stranger. “Where is she?”
“You’d better find her. Julio isn’t known for his kindness.”
“Why do you suspect Julio?”
“Why don’t you?” She tried to wrench away from him. “He planned this meeting at Irma’s house, didn’t he?”
“You tell me,” he said. “The note was in your handwriting.”
“If you check, I’m sure you’ll find the note was typed. Julio learned to fake my signature years ago.”
“How do you know about the note?”
“Some of Julio’s men—like Easton—are loyal to me,” she said. “Doesn’t matter now. They’ve spotted you. Julio tricked you into coming here and making a fool of yourself.”
Spence didn’t want to waste time throwing accusations back and forth. “Where would he take Mollie? Where should we look?”
“If it was up to me…” She glanced over her shoulder. “…I’d go to the horse barn. From there, he and his men could get her into a car and drive away.”
Her gaze dropped to her feet and her forehead crinkled. The mannerism was similar to what Mollie did when she was hiding something. “What else? There’s something you need to tell me. What is it?”
“Ask your friend, Agent Jamison. He can put you in touch with the undercover agent who has been spying on Julio and me for five years. I can’t give you his name. I don’t know what he’s calling himself.”
A meeting with the undercover guy was already in his plans. “How should I approach him? If you care about your sister’s safety, you’ve got to help me.”
“Figure it out for yourself. You’re supposed to be the investigator.
” She sucked a breath through her teeth.
“Out of respect for Irma, I won’t tell you what I’m thinking about you, Spence.
It’s too obscene. As for Mollie, I care about her.
With all my heart and soul. I’ve been keeping her safe in WITSEC. ”
He didn’t know what she was talking about. The whole point of WITSEC was to protect. “She wasn’t in danger.”
“You have no idea how close the cartel came to harming her. In Salt Lake City, I stepped in. It was me who sent that teal dress. I knew it was her favorite color.”