Did you find anything at Alexa’s?” asked Jonathan as he skimmed through the news headlines on his tablet. He picked up a piece of toast from the plate in front of him and crunched down. He brushed away a few crumbs that had landed on his pants. A soft breeze swirled around him, rustling the fronds of the palm trees surrounding the pool. Glancing up, he shielded his eyes as Elijah’s silhouette moved into the shaded alcove where Jonathan ate his breakfast every morning.
Elijah sat down across from him and helped himself to a freshly baked croissant from the basket in the center of the table. He broke it in half, a little puff of steam rising up and evaporating almost instantly. “No, nothing. But one of the tech guys is still going through her laptop. So far nothing suspicious to indicate she knows anything.”
“And you made it look like a robbery so as not to arouse suspicion?”
Elijah nodded and popped a piece of croissant into his mouth. “Just like you asked. We took the two televisions, some art, her jewelry, and her computer. Made a mess.”
Jonathan sat back in his chair, his fingers tented. “I’m surprised she hasn’t called to tell me about it. You know how needy she can be.”
“Maybe she’s spoken to Melanie?”
“Maybe who’s spoken to me about what?” Melanie sauntered toward them, dressed for the pool and the sun in a black one-piece bathing suit, a floppy straw hat, enormous sunglasses, and a diaphanous black robe. She held a script in one hand and a champagne flute filled with orange juice—and probably a lot of champagne—in the other.
“Have you heard from Alexa this morning?” he asked.
Melanie gave her head a little shake. “No. Why? What’s she done now?”
“Probably nothing. But…” He reached into his pocket and placed the earring on the table. “I found this in the library last night after the party.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “And? Spit it the fuck out, Jonathan.”
Even when she was annoyed with him, he loved her strength. He wished Alexa had inherited at least some of it, but she was all soft and weak where Melanie was angles and resilience. “I had my conversation with Kramer vis-à-vis Astor and Crosby in the library last night during dinner.”
Melanie scoffed out a laugh. “What, you think she was hiding in there? Spying on you? Please. You’re getting paranoid.”
He picked up the earring and twirled it slowly between his fingers, watching the facets catch the light. “It’s not paranoia. It’s caution. I had her place searched last night.”
She tapped her foot impatiently. “And did you find anything?”
“No.”
“So that’s it, then. She doesn’t know anything.”
Jonathan twirled the earring again, the diamonds glinting at him. Winking at him, as though they had tricked him, somehow.
“I still think we should keep her close. Just to be sure.”
Melanie sighed and took a sip of her orange juice. “Fine. Whatever floats your boat.” She paused and took a few steps closer, then set her glass down on the table. Slowly, she pulled her sunglasses from her face. “And if she does know?”
“Then we’ll have to deal with it.”
* * *
Alexa dug her fingers into her thighs, trying to anchor herself against the onslaught of emotions crashing through her, twisting her into knots. She felt as though she were drowning, choking on confusion, disbelief, and fear.
“What…what did you say?” she asked, her voice sounding far away, muted by the blood rushing through her ears. She took a shaky, shuddering breath, and for a brief moment she wanted to scream. Her entire world was unraveling around her, spinning out of control, and she didn’t know what to do with herself or how to process any of it. Breathing and blinking were all she was capable of, and she could feel herself getting swept away by the nauseating chaos of the situation.
Zack’s hand—strong, but gentle—landed on her shoulder, and she dropped her head forward, some of the tension going out of her neck. Two wet splotches appeared on her leggings, and she realized she’d started silently crying.
“I know it’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry,” said Detective Morales, her tone sympathetic. Zack’s thumb traced slow, soothing circles at the base of her neck. The room spun for a second but then settled back into place. Alexa looked up, past Detective Morales and out the window.
The sun still shone. The windows of the Los Angeles Times building across the street winked metallically in the light. The sky was still blue. Horns still honked occasionally from below. Phones rang in the offices adjacent to Morales’s. A photocopier hummed, people laughed.
Everything was still so normal, despite the fact that Alexa’s world had just tilted on its axis, upending everything. Upending her life, and everything she thought she’d known.
Despite the shock of the detective’s words, Alexa realized that she believed her. “How do you know?” she asked, her throat thick.
Without a word Morales slid one of the file folders across to her. With shaking hands Alexa accepted it, and the rest of the room dropped away. On one side were full-color mug shots, held in place with a paper clip. She sorted through them, recognizing face after face. Men and women she’d seen in her house growing up, who she’d assumed were friends of her parents and nothing more. Not loan sharks, and blackmailers, and drug dealers, and arms traffickers. Pimps and fraudsters and corrupt businessmen.
Murderers.
Alexa gasped when she landed on a very familiar face. “It’s Jack,” she whispered, pulling the photo free from the pile and handing it to Sean. He stared down at the picture of Sierra’s ex-boyfriend, a former state senator now serving twenty years for kidnapping, forcible confinement, assault, election fraud, and stalking, plus other fraud and weapons charges. Jack, who’d tried to kill both Sierra and Sean, two people Alexa loved dearly. Heat flushed through Alexa’s body as a flicker of anger rose up, sharpening her focus. “Jack’s involved with this Golden Brotherhood?”
Morales tipped her head. “It’s complicated, but yes, I think so. There was never enough evidence to prove it, and he wouldn’t talk. Probably because he knew he’d have a date with a shiv the second he found himself in gen pop.”
“Fucker,” Sean ground out before tossing the photo back on Morales’s desk.
Alexa continued flipping, her heart pounding faster and harder with each face she recognized. Faces of criminals she knew to be associated with her father in some way.
“Wait, go back,” said Sean, twirling a finger in the air. She did, and he snatched a pair of photos up off the desk. “Son of a bitch.”
She knew she’d seen the men in the photos before but couldn’t seem to get her brain to work fast enough to place them. “Who are they?”
Sean jabbed a finger at the first mug shot, the one of a bald biker-looking guy. “Frank Ross. Taylor’s father.” His expression grim, he flipped to the other picture. “Ronald Baker.”
“Taylor’s stalker…Holy shit,” Alexa said, tracing her fingers over the face in the picture as recognition snapped through her. “They were involved with the Golden Brotherhood too?”
Morales nodded. “Yes. Again, no one will talk, but there’s a lot of uncorroborated evidence pointing in that direction. The FBI is still investigating.”
“My father was involved in almost killing my friends. In almost killing the people I love.” Her voice came out flat, almost monotone as she tested out the words, weighing them as she spoke. She pulled the folder closer, flipping through page after page of evidence. Interviews, investigations, words blurring together. A litany of awful things her father was allegedly responsible for.
Given what she knew from her own experience with her father, the only word in that sentence that felt out of place was allegedly.
“How do you know I’m not involved?” asked Alexa, frowning up at Morales.
“Because we’ve been investigating you too. I don’t think you’re involved. And I don’t think you would’ve given me the heads-up about your father’s threat against me either. If you were here simply for information, to try and find out just how much I know, I don’t think you would’ve tipped me off.” Morales clasped her hands in front of her on the desk and leaned toward Alexa. “I’ll ask you once, and then we’ll be done with it. Alexa, are you involved with the Golden Brotherhood?”
Alexa met the other woman’s gaze and shook her head slowly. “No.” For several seconds Morales held her eyes as though searching for something, and then she nodded once.
“Has he ever hurt you?” asked Morales.
Alexa’s fingers tightened around the folder, the manila bending slightly under her grip. Shame crackled over her, hot and prickly, and she swallowed, her mouth dry. “Not…not intentionally.” She forced the words out, struggling with what to say. Zack’s hand tightened the slightest bit on her shoulder.
“What do you mean?” asked Morales, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“I don’t…It’s far in the past, and it wasn’t criminal. It doesn’t matter.” She already felt as though she’d been hit by a truck after everything that had happened over the past day, and she could barely make sense of everything as it was. Now wasn’t the time to layer on another complication. And especially such a personal one.
Especially in front of Zack.
Morales stared at her for several seconds before letting it go. Alexa had a feeling she wasn’t off the hook indefinitely, but she could handle only so much right now. Opening up that old wound wasn’t happening. Not today.
She reached for the second folder and began paging through it, not really taking in any of the information in front of her as her mind reeled and spun with what she’d already found out. Her eyes skimmed over the terms money laundering and larceny, and her mouth opened before she even realized she was going to speak. “My father is a mobster who played a role in hurting my friends. He’s hurt a lot of people. He’s dangerous. And I can help you? That’s what you’re telling me?” She pushed the folder away. She’d seen enough, and she swallowed thickly, fighting a wave of nausea. “He’s a criminal, who’s hurt people I care about,” she murmured, letting the words sink in. Wishing that they weren’t so easy to believe. Wishing she had even the tiniest bit of doubt that Morales was telling the truth.
But everything in front of her, coupled with what she’d learned yesterday and over the past ten years of her life…it made sense. A damn boatload of it. A shard of guilt pierced her, but she shoved it away. If all this was true—if he’d tried to kill her friends, if he’d hurt other people to feed his own selfish need for power—he wasn’t worthy of her guilt. That much she knew for certain.
Morales nodded, flipping the first folder closed. “You present an opportunity this investigation has never had before. The biggest problem is that no one will talk, and the Brotherhood is pretty much impossible to infiltrate. Believe me, we’ve tried.” She pressed her index fingers to her lips before pointing at Alexa. “But you…You’re in a unique position, because you have inside access and aren’t involved. He has no idea you’re here?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay, let’s just back the fuck up for a second here.” Zack’s voice came from behind her, sending a ripple down her spine. How was it possible that she was so aware of him, so responsive to him when she shouldn’t have room for anything except the chaos of the past day?
Alexa swiveled around to look up at him. A muscle in Zack’s jaw ticced, and his gaze swung down to meet hers. His deep-brown eyes were hot, an angry glower knitting his eyebrows together and sending a pulse of heat straight through her. “You’re not doing this,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “It’s way too fucking dangerous.” He turned that glower on Morales. “I can’t believe you’d suggest something like this.”
“You don’t even know what I’m suggesting,” said Morales, a hint of irritation adding an edge to her voice.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s not doing it.”
Alexa pushed to her feet and spun to face Zack. “She can make her own decisions, thanks.” God, she’d had enough of other people dictating her life, and she’d be damned if she was going to let Zack start.
“And I’m telling you, this is a bad one.” He leaned forward slightly, taking up some of her space, and a part of her wanted to shove him back, while another wanted to wrap herself around him.
“It’s my choice, Zack, if I want to do this or not. Not yours.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, everything—the fear, the anger, the shock, the confusing tangle of her attraction to Zack—melting together and bursting out of her. “Just because you’re my bodyguard doesn’t mean you get to boss me around and make decisions for me.”
His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. He glanced down for a brief second to where her finger was still pressed firmly against his chest. His very hard chest. “Actually, it does. It’s my job to protect you, and that means keeping you out of harm’s way. Not letting you walk right the fuck into it. God.” Nostrils flaring again, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, tension practically radiating off him.
“What about your rules? Communication and honesty and trust? Was that all bullshit?” When she swore, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he pressed forward the tiniest bit, her finger still jabbed into his chest, her nail bed white from the pressure. “Because what it sounds like to me is that you want to be in control. That I should just do what you want, when you want.” Heat flared in his eyes. Tension, thick and hot, gathered around them, but she wasn’t backing down. She couldn’t, not when her father had done these awful things. Not when she had a chance to try to make it right.
When Zack spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “I’m communicating to you that I honestly believe this is a terrible idea, and I need you to trust me to do my goddamn job.”
She took her finger away and stepped around the chair, getting right in his face. “I thought we were a team.”
“We are.”
“Right, but you’re the captain and I’m a benchwarmer.”
“I need to keep you safe.” His hand came up and curled around her arm, his grip firm but gentle. Something in his eyes shifted, the anger giving way to something softer. Something almost…imploring.
“Zack,” she said, some of the fire going out of her. She found it incredibly hard to think with his hand on her. All she could focus on was the warm, reassuring strength in his touch.
His gaze dropped to her mouth for a second, and then, with a sharp exhale, he took a step back. He dropped his head forward, shaking it as he stared at the floor. Finally, when he looked up, it was at Sean, not her. “And you’re going to let his happen?” he asked Sean, his hands out at his sides.
Instead of answering Zack, Sean looked up at Alexa, his hands clasped between his legs, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Do you want to do it?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Zack scoffed out a frustrated sigh.
“What do you want Alexa to do?” Sean asked the detective, his voice cool and calm in comparison to Zack’s.
Morales shot Zack a pointed look first. “You done?”
Zack took another step back and crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles in his forearms bunched and flexed, and some of Alexa’s anger dissolved into something hotter, sinking through her and settling between her thighs.
“I haven’t heard your plan yet, so probably not,” he said, his voice a little rough.
Morales gestured to the empty chair in front of her desk, silently asking Alexa to sit back down. She did, and even though the chair was solid beneath her, she felt as though she were a boat on a storm-tossed sea, unanchored and rocking violently as she fought against capsizing.
“The way you can help is simple, Alexa. Do you have access to your parents’ house?”
She nodded. “Yes. I see them regularly.”
“Good. What we need you to do is to plant bugs—listening devices—so that we can build a stronger case against your father.”
“With the idea that he goes to prison?” she asked, her stomach swirling sickly. Criminal or not, the betrayal would cost her.
Morales nodded. “Yes. Are you in?”
“Yes. I’m in. I’ll help you.”
She heard a muttered string of curses from Zack.
Morales nodded. “Good. And I think it’s best if you stick with Virtus for your security. Putting a police detail on you would only raise questions, and…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. “Given that your father already had my name, clearly there are people around here who can’t be trusted. I hate to say it, but the fewer cops involved, the safer you are right now.” Her mouth and nose twitched as though she’d just smelled something offensive.
Obviously struggling for control, Zack cleared his throat before speaking. “So how do we play this?” he asked Sean. “You mentioned that if Alexa suddenly hires security, it might tip her father off that she knows something, or at least suspects something, and I agree. It wouldn’t make sense for her to have security around her family if she’s got nothing to be afraid of. When she goes to plant those listening devices, how am I supposed to keep her safe if I don’t even have a valid reason for being there?”
Sean smiled confidently. “This is where the idea I mentioned earlier comes in. You’re right, it doesn’t make sense for you to walk into the Fairfax mansion as Alexa’s bodyguard. No way that wouldn’t set off immediate alarm bells.” Sean paused, glancing from Zack to Alexa. “It’s a bit unorthodox, but given the situation, I think it’s our best option for keeping Alexa safe, and allowing her to help the police with their investigation.”
“What’s your idea?” she asked, sitting forward in her seat.
“Until all of this is resolved, Zack’s not just going to be your bodyguard. He’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend.”