AN UNEASY PARTNERSHIP

By-the-book FBI agent Josie Gilbert has no business falling for her confidential informant, but she can’t walk away. She needs this case—her career needs this case. And suave thief turned FBI asset Connor Randall is too deep in the mob syndicate to pull out now. But when the crime boss they are trying to take down becomes a target himself, Josie is forced to take Connor into hiding without blowing his cover. Now, dodging hit men and fighting a perilous attraction, she has to make a life-and-death decision. Can she trust the man who has stolen her heart…or is he working one last con?

“You are a mystery. Are you a bad guy turned good? Or still a con man? I can’t be sure.”

Connor reached up to touch Josie’s hair. “We’ve been together for days and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trust you. I just don’t know what to do about you.”

“What’s there to do?” he asked. “Except your job.”

“I’m not talking about my job,” she said on a husky whipser.

“Then you must be talking about this.” He kissed her, tugging her closer, the feel of her in his arms too strong to resist.

Josie tugged away. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m supposed to watch you, make sure you don’t walk away from your obligations.”

“I’ve stopped running. You need to understand that.”

“And you need to understand I won’t be a conquest. I can’t—” A noise stopped her, stopped them both in their tracks.

She grabbed her weapon. “We need to understand that we’re still on somebody’s hit list.”

LENORA WORTH

has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fifteen years. In February 2011 her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence made the New York Times bestseller list. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-six years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Forced Alliance

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Keep thy heart with all diligence:

for out of it are the issues of life.

—Proverbs 4:23

To Shiny—with many thanks :)

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DEAR READER

QUESTION FOR DISCUSSION

Extract

ONE

A glint of light pushed through the skyscraper-gray dusk, allowing the sun to offer one more ray of hope to the city of New Orleans before the hungry, humid night engulfed it in shadows. Just as that sun slipped behind the tall buildings up and down Canal Street, a muffled shot hissed downward through the air and made contact with human flesh.

At about the same time, Connor Randall adjusted his formal bow tie and stepped out of a still-purring black sports car. Holding the car door away from the sweating valet, Connor looked up and around, old habits dying hard.

And he spotted none other than Louis Armond standing a few yards away, the unmoving body of a beautiful blonde lying still by his feet. The Mafia king’s shocked gaze zigzagged up in a jagged path. He drew a weapon and pivoted in a nervous circle before he fell down on his knees and pulled the unconscious woman into his arms. His olive-skinned face twisted in grief and terror. Then he glanced around until his scowl hit on Connor and stopped.

Connor got back in his car and peeled out of the parking garage. He reached Armond, shifted down and hit the brakes. “Get in,” he called. “Mr. Armond, get in the car.”

* * *

FBI Special Agent Josie Gilbert’s cell rang at the same time she was about to bite into her first slice of veggie pizza. Still holding the pizza with one hand, she groaned and grabbed the offending device, squinting down at the caller ID.

Connor Randall?

Her confidential informant. The FBI considered him an asset. She considered him a pain in the neck. Right now, she sat in an unmarked car near the French Quarter, waiting to hear from him. He’d called her an hour earlier, stating that he’d been summoned by Louis Armond. The crime lord wanted to tell him something important. They were to meet at the opera house.

Please tell me this is all over and we finally have Armond. Josie’s prayer filtered through her worry. She always prayed when she was on a stakeout. Tonight, she just prayed that Connor wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“I hope you have good news,” she said on a hopeful breath.

His slightly British accent tickled at her earlobe. “Gilbert, we’ve got a problem.”

Well, that didn’t take long. She’d only been paired as Randall’s handler for a week or so, and that mostly meant keeping him alive or constantly questioning him about the Mafia boss he’d been shadowing for over a year now.

The Mafia boss who’d hinted at turning. Maybe tonight? He’d wanted to see Connor tonight. In his private booth at the opera. But only if Connor came alone and with no security or listening devices.

Josie’s pulse moved too fast, causing her nerves to tighten like a twisted wire. “You’re in trouble already?”

“Big trouble.” He sounded breathless and not-so-cool-and-calm, that trace of an accent just barely detectable.

Trying to picture him untying the knot of his tuxedo tie, she focused on the here and now. “Did you kill someone?”

“No. But Armond’s mistress is dead. He’s with me and...he insisted I bring him out to Armond Gardens.”

Insisted. Past tense. Connor was on the move. That meant she needed to be on the move right behind him.

Josie did a visual. The narrow side street glinted like a dark ribbon around shadows and shapes. No sign of anyone, though. Not even a stray cat. The opera house was a block away.

“Turn back, and we’ll bring him into headquarters.” When Connor didn’t respond, she said, “I don’t have time for games, Randall.”

“You can’t bring either of us in. We’re heading out of the city. And this is no game.”

Dropping the pizza slice back into the small box on the seat, Josie sat up, her thoughts whirling. Maybe her new boss didn’t like her, since from the minute she’d arrived at her new assignment, he’d teamed her up with the most notorious asset this division had ever encountered. Still wondering if that was a plus or a double negative, Josie figured babysitting a suave art thief turned informant must be punishment, pure and simple.

After a case gone bad in Dallas, she still carried a shield of guilt mixed with a solid need to find redemption, but Connor Randall was a live wire, not her ticket off the hot seat. Not redemption quality.

Connor Randall. Reformed con man now trying to save his own skin. Good-looking in a classic way with dark curly hair and rich blue eyes, he was comfortable in any situation and in any setting. The man moved so smoothly inside criminal circles it was hard to tell if he truly had turned toward the good side of the law. He had several aliases—Connor Simpson, Connor Clarence, Connor Butler. He could get in and out of the country like Houdini popping out of a water tank.

But he also knew how to escape just like Houdini.

Was he working with Armond to pull a fast one on her?

Okay, Josie, think. He’s watched all the time. We can track him. No way he’d try to escape. No way he’d purposely be involved in a shooting. He’d go back to jail. Forever.

But he’d gone in without a wire or any trackers.

“Are you telling me the truth or—”

“I’m not playing you, Agent Gilbert. I need your help. And soon.”

Josie held the phone between her left shoulder blade and her chin while she maneuvered her car out of the parking space. “Tell me everything. Now.”

“Someone shot Louis Armond’s mistress right in front of the opera house. I saw the whole thing and so did he, but...it came from the roof of a nearby building. A sniper with a silencer. Now he could be in danger. We need to hide him.”

Josie almost laughed out loud. Hide Louis Armond? That was like trying to hide the statue of General Stonewall Jackson centered in the Square. Near impossible.

But if someone was onto them...

She’d read the file, knew the history. These two men both had a lot of enemies.

Randall’s cover had almost been blown last year during the Benoit art heist involving Princess Lara Kincade but he’d managed to smooth that over enough to get back on the notorious Mafia lord’s good side and work toward either turning him or bringing him to justice. He’d been seen out and about with Armond all over New Orleans. But Connor Randall wasn’t the kind to sit around waiting. If the deal was off, they could both be on the run.

And this was a very big deal. Josie swallowed the bile of failure and glared at her phone. Please, dear Lord, give me the strength and wisdom to get it right this time.

Then she asked, “Are you kidding me?”

“Why would I kid about a thing like that? The man is in shock and he’s pretty sure he’s next. He even thinks the hit might have been meant for him.” He went silent then added, “And if you can’t do your job, I might be right there with him, since he’s practically blackmailing me into helping him.”

Josie wanted to say good riddance, but even though she’d been hardened by witnessing the worst kind of crimes imaginable, she hadn’t resorted to letting people get killed on purpose. She’d become an agent after her father had been carted off to jail when she was a teenager. Her father, a con man who’d fooled everyone, even his own family, had masked his crimes behind the persona of a successful financial adviser and businessman.

No wonder she didn’t trust Connor Randall.

She’d made up for the sins of her father by helping to bring in a couple of other most-wanted criminals. But then things had taken a bad turn. She didn’t like being glued at the hip to a man who represented everything she hated, but maybe that was the price she had to pay right now.

Since that art heist had also involved the infamous Mafia lord, everyone at the New Orleans division of the FBI had been on the alert. Connor Randall had been there that night in the dank, dark wine cellar of an old mansion in the Quarter. And he had shot and killed Frederick Cordello, the man who’d wanted the princess dead so he could take the priceless Benoit paintings he’d believed she had.

Ironically, Louis Armond, allegedly a millionaire con man himself who mostly dealt in fake designer purses and shoes and illegal sales of priceless art, had proof that the paintings belonged to him. But after the ensuing publicity and scandal behind the whole affair, Armond had decided to take the high road to stoke some of the heat. He’d sent the paintings off on a museum art tour and then he’d become a very important witness for the FBI. A reluctant secret witness who had yet to give them anything of significance.

“You need to come back to New Orleans,” she said now, her gaze scanning the street behind her.

“No can do.”

Anything could happen with Randall. Nice to look at but hard to read. She hadn’t managed to get a bead on the real Connor Randall. Yet. But she couldn’t leave him hanging. Armond wouldn’t have any qualms about either shooting Connor or pinning the blame on him. Or worse, persuading Connor to turn. If he hadn’t already.

She worked her own persuasion. “Louis Armond agreed to immunity in exchange for information, remember?”

“I took that into consideration when he scrambled into my car and held a gun on me. I can’t come back to the city right now. Too hot. I found him...right after it happened, holding a weapon.”

He lowered his voice. “Whoever did this sure scared the man. I’m his last hope and he’s my only hope. If I don’t help him cover this up, he’ll kill me and be done with it.”

“Well, that sure makes this more understandable,” she said on a sarcastic note. Then she regretted that note. She’d learned not to take anything for granted, not even an informant who grated on her last nerve. Heading northwest out of town, she decided to play along. “Tell me what you need.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, this is bad, but it’s a chance to...get you inside his world.”

Good point. That way, she could keep an eye on both of them and maybe convince Armond to cooperate.

“But what if this is a setup?” she asked, her mind moving through several scenarios. “Maybe he’s luring you out so he can kill you. I mean, has he told you the big secret he wanted to share?”

“Not yet.” She heard a chuckle. “As for him killing me, yes, he could do that. I’ve already considered that angle, but right now he’s in no shape to kill anyone. He says he didn’t kill his mistress and I believe him. I think a sniper made this hit. He thinks they’re onto him and that they’ll come after anyone associated with him, including me.

“He’s so scared he might be willing to save us a lot of trouble by cutting an even better deal.” He went silent for a second or two. “Armond isn’t the kind to scare easily, so I’d say we’re onto something big here. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now I’m not at liberty to walk away.”

Josie read between the lines. The man had him right where he wanted him. Connor could testify against Armond, and if he told the truth—that he’d seen the man holding a gun over a woman lying on the street—things could go bad for Armond. But if Connor could be persuaded to put a different spin on that story...well...he might get to live.

Right. She’d never known a Mafia boss to have a change of heart unless he thought there was something in it for him. This could get messy. Connor could turn back to the dark side to save his own hide.

“Where are you now?” she asked. She had the car out on the street, moving.

“We just arrived at his estate on the Old River Road. It’s like a fortress, so he should be safe here for a while. I’m not sure how safe.”

He gave her the address and some directions, but Josie was pretty sure this place wasn’t on any map.

“Okay, got it. On my way.”

“Oh, and by the way, we have to make him believe you will help us clean up this mess. If he asks, and trust me, he will, you have to be prepared to make this go away.”

Connor ended the call before she had a chance to burst out laughing. Or protest.

Wondering why she hadn’t become a teacher like her mother had suggested, Josie quickly called Special Agent in Charge Joseph Sherwood and explained what Connor had told her. “I’d like to go in alone and undercover for now, sir.”

After a long silence, the older man said, “You can go in alone, but I’ll have a team on standby in case you get into trouble. We’ve worked too hard to bring Armond in to let anything go wrong now.”

There was another slight pause and then he added, “Meantime, let me know if you need any backstopping. I’ll get the techs involved and I’ll work with the locals on the shooting.”

“Yes, sir.” If he was willing to set up an undercover background for her, Sherwood must understand the magnitude of this mission. She might be in this for days, possibly weeks.

She’d go out to the Armond compound and get Armond and Connor to safety. That is, if someone else didn’t beat her to the place and do harm to both of them.

TWO

Josie checked her rearview mirror several times to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Normal Saturday-night traffic streamed along the interstate.

She bumped up her speed, her pulse zooming along with the vehicle’s high speed. Why was she so worried anyway? Connor could handle himself. He knew all the tricks of survival.

But...Connor Randall was almost legendary around the bureau, so maybe Armond considered him more valuable alive than dead right now. If anyone could charm a snake, it’d be Connor Randall. She didn’t want to think about how he could turn a woman’s head, too.

She hadn’t decided if the debonair Mr. Randall had finally mended his ways or if he was just working on one last big con. They’d had several conversations, or as Connor liked to call them—interrogations. She asked questions, and he either answered with a cool disregard or said nothing at all. She’d pulled him in earlier today to get a better handle on tonight’s mission, and the man had waltzed in wearing a custom-made tuxedo and a custom-made smile.

Get that out of your head, she told herself. So he was handsome and debonair and...still a criminal in her mind.

She only wanted to get Armond and him out alive and make sure Armond lived up to his side of this bargain. Her career needed a serious boost. If the Mafia lord was running scared, they’d never get the truth out of him.

Josie made a few turns to check any tails. She got off an exit ramp and looped back around to where she’d started, zooming as fast as she could.

There! She spotted another car behind her, doing the same loop. This time, she stayed on the interstate but zigzagged between other vehicles and took a different exit. When she felt sure she wasn’t being followed, she exited again and took the back roads that followed the Mississippi River.

No other cars were in sight, so she breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever had been behind her was gone now.

Or maybe they were just waiting.

Connor might be right after all. Maybe this went deeper than just someone trying to take down Armond. Maybe someone was also after Connor. The list could be long and far-reaching. Which meant they might be watching her, too.

* * *

Located about forty-five minutes north of New Orleans and set back off a narrow country road near the Mississippi River, the Armond estate consisted of a stunning antebellum house that was well over one hundred and fifty years old and set in the middle of an acreage that rivaled Versailles.

Stately columns surrounded the big stucco house. Massive mushrooming live oaks that had been planted over three hundred years ago lined the long drive leading to the double front doors. A high black iron fence and electronic gate surrounded the whole thing, while armed guards and nasty watchdogs patrolled the perimeters.

Connor paced out on the downstairs gallery, walking from column to column while he waited for Josie Gilbert to arrive. A guard stood near the big double doors, making sure Connor didn’t venture too far. Every now and then Connor would touch a hand to the still-warm eggshell-white patina of the old stucco. This house had good bones and an aged, distinguished history. When he’d first seen what was now called Armond Gardens, Connor thought this was exactly the kind of place he’d always dreamed of owning. But it hadn’t taken him long to realize a mansion didn’t make a home. A lot of criminal activities and nefarious comings and goings went on behind this tranquil, elegant facade. He didn’t want to live here now. But he sure didn’t want to die here, either. Not tonight.

Now he had a reason to live. He hoped to give his sister, Deidre, the kind of home she deserved even if he never lived there with her. His sister, just a few years younger than his thirty-two years, deserved a home of her own, and she deserved some peace of mind. He’d changed his ways for that purpose and he intended to see it through to prove to Deidre that he’d turned back toward the Lord.

His cell buzzed.

It was Armond, huddled up in the back of the house. “What is the holdup?”

“She’s on her way,” Connor said and then ended the call.

The man was seriously agitated, to the point of calling Connor himself rather than ordering a guard to carry a message. Someone had just murdered his young girlfriend, and he knew he might be next. Plus, he knew if his wife returned from New York and heard this, she’d leave him. Mrs. Armond had warned her philandering husband several times but Louis Armond thought he could get away with everything from murder to infidelity. Another great example of the criminal mind.

Somehow, he now expected—no, demanded—Connor to fix this. Kind of ironic, considering Connor had a target on his back that had been put there because he’d been associating with Louis Armond. Was this payback time, or had Louis understood that Connor had witnessed part of the shooting and might be willing to tell all? Including the fact that Armond could have possibly been the shooter or hired the shooter. If Armond hadn’t killed the woman, then who had? Connor wondered. And why had Armond been all alone on the street, without any of his guards?

Armond could have killed Connor several times over, tonight or any other night. They were out here away from the city in a fortress full of big-muscled bodyguards and a state-of-the-art security system. He’d be dead and buried in the river by now if Armond wanted him that way. The man knew Connor had worked with the FBI to take down Frederick Cordello for attempted art theft and murder. When Connor had shot Cordello to protect Princess Lara Kincade, Armond had witnessed the whole thing, but Connor had smoothed that one over by explaining the FBI had forced him to cooperate.

Which happened to be the truth.

That persuasive conversation, and Connor delivering on his promise to Armond, had saved Connor. For now. He’d found the famous Benoit paintings that technically and legitimately belonged to Armond. Armond already knew Connor had no love for the FBI. If he played the hand he’d been given, Connor might be able to stay alive long enough to be free from both Armond and the FBI.

Finally.

Or he could be dead before morning.

“But you’ve got lawyers, people,” Connor had reminded the man after Armond had jumped into his car and they’d hurried out of New Orleans. “I just happened to come along at the wrong time. I saw you standing there and I reacted.”

“You were in the right place,” Armond replied, a hint of fear coloring his nervous appreciation. “We have to keep this tight. No one can know I was associated with that poor girl. I can’t call the lawyers or anyone else. Too dangerous.” Then he’d turned in the seat, waving the weapon he still held. “You owe me, remember?”

So now Connor was being held as a “guest” in the Armond fortress. He’d wanted to get closer to the criminal, but not this way. Armond could turn trigger-happy and shoot him on the spot.

To keep building up to the rapport they’d once had, Connor asked the Mafia boss why he’d thought it a good idea to bring his girlfriend to the opera while his wife was out of town.

“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” Armond retorted. “I told her never to acknowledge me in public. But she showed up, scared and shouting at me to do something.”

Armond thought he’d been set up by someone who wanted him dead. Someone who’d killed the girl just to show him they were serious. “I’ll be next. That’s how this works.” He’d included Connor in his fears. “They know you were my close associate, so now they might know I’m in cahoots with the feds.”

The scared bully had centered on Connor the way a newborn lamb might center on the human who’d fed him a bottle. Attachments such as this could only lead to more trouble. Connor was in so deep now, he wondered how he’d ever get out of this. But he could use this latest development to his advantage, at least.

Armond came out the door, sweating and ruddy-faced, surrounded by armed guards. “This woman—are you sure she can take care of this?”

Armond didn’t know Josie. Up until a couple of weeks ago, Connor’s handler had been a by-the-book veteran of the FBI. But John Burgess had abruptly decided to retire, and just like that, Josie Gilbert had walked into Connor’s already-complicated life. That could work in their favor now, however. Armond technically didn’t have any choice. He had to trust Josie, and he didn’t have a clue that she was FBI.

“Yes,” Connor replied, trying to piece things together, since he knew Josie would question him with a heavy-handed attitude. The newest FBI special agent to hit town did not approve of Connor’s methods. But they were stuck with each other until he could prove his merit and finally go free.

Right now, he had to get his facts straight regarding this bizarre turn of events.

The parking attendant had watched in surprise as Connor got back in his car and took off. He might have seen the whole thing, and by now the police and the FBI were probably swarming around the crime scene. The attendant could have given them Connor’s license-plate number and a description of his car, too, but Sherwood obviously would already know Connor had been on the scene. Since the FBI kept tabs on his whereabouts, he understood they’d see him as a suspect. He had to have the story straight. And he was hoping Special Agent Josie Gilbert would agree with him on that.

“She’s good, Louis. She has experience in these matters.”

Or at least he hoped she did. If Josie would think beyond her distaste at having to work with Connor, she’d realize they had Armond. The man would do anything to stay out of the limelight and keep this nasty business from his irritable wife, or he could decide he no longer wanted to talk.

“Is she ever gonna get here?”

A car pulled around the curve and waited at the gate. Since Armond had already told security to let her in the minute she arrived, the gate swung open.

Connor’s heartbeat slid into fast gear, the way it always did when he was on a big case. Or maybe tonight it was the added thrill of working with Josie Gilbert. Could he help it if he had a secret crush on her? He’d have to put all of that aside while they tidied up things. Now he had a niggling doubt regarding the newest addition to the New Orleans bureau. There was the Dallas incident that no one wanted to discuss.

“Go back inside, Mr. Armond,” he suggested. “I’ll update her and bring her to you.”

Still dazed, Louis Armond nodded and hurried past two bodyguards into the big drawing room to the left of the central hallway. Connor nodded to one of the guards and shut the doors. He needed to prep Josie Gilbert.

Now the fun part. Had she trusted Connor enough to come alone? He prayed she’d been wise enough to know they had Armond cornered and scared. He also prayed they could use this little dustup to their advantage. If so, he might be able to finally shed Louis Armond’s iron-tight grip and the halo of death that came with being in a forced alliance with a beautiful, determined female FBI agent.

That would, however, depend on how this night’s work went, and whether he and Josie would live to see another day.

THREE

Josie checked her gun and got out of the unmarked car, then took in her surroundings. The big antebellum house stood stately and quiet in the moonlight. It was beautiful, but tonight it held a sinister aura of death and destruction.

Nice digs, Mr. Armond. Sure that the original owners of this gracious old mansion would turn over in their graves at the sight of several armed guards with snarling dogs and three blacked-out luxury SUVs and the new name of Armond Gardens, she wondered exactly how much money it took to own such a showplace.

And how much of that money had been ill-gotten?

She ignored the shiver of unease that chased down her spine. She hadn’t seen anyone following her since she’d left the main road, so she needed to relax and get on with this. But she had a bad feeling, a kind of fluttering in her stomach that indicated this whole setup felt wrong. Shaking it off, she did one more visual and prepared to get on with her work.

As she approached the wraparound porch, a man stepped out of the shadows, causing her to also wonder why she’d agreed to come out here to help someone she’d only met a few days ago. She was glad she’d reported her whereabouts back to the New Orleans bureau in spite of Connor telling her to keep quiet, and that she’d warned Sherwood that things might get dicey.

“Bring him in, Gilbert. Nothing dicey about that.”

Did he mean Louis Armond or Connor Randall? Sherwood didn’t care for the charming informant. But Joseph Sherwood didn’t seem to care for anyone around him, for that matter.

“Sir, I can’t do that.” She explained on the way out what Connor had told her. “Armond refuses to let him leave. So he’s set me up to help with the situation. Alone. Armond doesn’t want the feds anywhere around this estate. Let me go in and see what I can find. Randall and I will figure out how to handle this, and I’ll try to keep you posted. But I need your permission to go dark if necessary.”

Sherwood had reluctantly agreed. Now she had to show him she knew her stuff. Her boss already gave off an air of disdain whenever she spoke to him. Maybe he resented having to take on an agent who’d messed things up in her last assignment.

Just one more reason for Josie to make this one work.

Connor Randall met her at the low steps onto the brick-floored porch. Glancing toward the two-ton guard at the door, he pulled Josie aside. “You did come alone, right?”

She wanted to say, “No, actually, I brought the whole New Orleans bureau with me.” But she was too intrigued and too hopeful that she could corner two rats at once. Tonight’s operation had her rattled. She was out here on her own, with no backup, making this up as she went. She wouldn’t admit that part of the shake-up inside her soul had to do with this man, who sure looked good in a tux.

“I’m alone,” she replied. Then she lowered her voice. “But I did report in, since my SAC told me to bring you both back to town, so I can’t hold them off for too long. The news of a dead woman near the opera house has already hit the airwaves.”

She didn’t need to explain that the FBI and the NOPD already had forensic teams on-site at the crime scene. The locals would take the lead, then turn things over to the FBI.

Connor’s expression turned dark and hard to read. “Has Armond’s name come up?”

“Not yet to the public. But I’m to get you both to a safe house immediately.”

Connor’s surprised look changed to a resolved one. “And you managed to hold Sherwood off for a while?”

“Yes, but he wasn’t happy. He wants to go by the book on this one so Armond won’t bolt.”

“Any mention of a black sports car on the scene?”

She shook her head. “Only a dark car. That’s the official word.” Tired of the interrogation, she said, “I need to be briefed, and don’t leave anything out.”

“I’ll explain everything,” he said.

“You’d better. I’m risking a lot, coming here on my own.”

Too late, she realized she was also locked in. The high iron fences and the army of guards told the tale of illegal comings and goings. What if Armond refused to let either of them leave? She’d read dossiers about torture tactics and worse, especially regarding agents who’d been caught. And she knew firsthand what could happen to informants who got caught. Putting those images out of her mind, Josie gathered her thoughts.

“Armond might pretend to be ready to cooperate, but someone scared him silly tonight. He’s desperate and that can be dangerous.” The threat of death made people do desperate things.

Connor cleared his throat and whispered close, “But we’ve got him right where we want him. He believes you’re here to help us. And...he’s kind of holding this over my head, if you get my drift.”

“How did you get involved, anyway?” she asked while she did another visual of the well-lit gardens and the too-dark tree line. Even with guard dogs, someone with criminal intent could get in here. “He and you should have been inside, finishing up with what we hope is the information we’ve all been waiting for.”

“I was on my way in when this happened. I’d just turned into the parking garage.” He glanced back at the double front doors. “I saw Armond standing there with his mistress. Which was so not like Armond. Then I saw the woman fall to the ground. I backed out of the garage and floored it to Armond. He was leaning over her in shock, a gun in his hand.”

“You saw him shoot her?”

“No. I saw him leaning over her with a gun. But when he looked around and glanced up to the rooftop above them, I figured a sniper had done it.”

“So you stopped to chat?”

“I stopped and called out to him to get in my car. His guards hurried to surround him, but he turned and came around my car and jumped inside. Told me to drive.”

“Why did you take that chance?” she asked, wondering if he’d thought this through. “You should have called me right away.”

“He seemed especially grateful to have a getaway car, and his guards scattered, so I had to do something. Then he held a gun to my head,” Connor replied. He shrugged as if this whole affair was nothing much. “Two thoughts entered my mind. One, he wanted me to get him out of there, and two, he was so erratic, he might decide to shoot me if I didn’t do his bidding.”

Ignoring his cool explanation, she asked, “And you didn’t think to call this in to 911?”

“Look, I’ve been tailing him when I could. I know I’m supposed to stay out of sight but I was so close to getting him for good last year. And tonight, well, I thought this would finally be over. This was supposed to be the last time I had to deal with the man.”

He put a hand against one of the colossal columns and gave her a blue-eyed stare. “I didn’t think. I just went after him before he got shot, too. If he gets himself killed, we’ll never get the information and evidence we need to get to the real power behind his empire.”

“Great. So now I’m an unofficial accomplice to two of my informants leaving the scene of a murder?”

“He didn’t kill her,” Connor replied. “He was with her, but he didn’t kill her. The kill shot hit her clean and right between the eyes, and I didn’t hear the shot. That means it came from a distance and it was silenced. He did pull out his gun, so someone could have seen that and misinterpreted it.”

She doubted him already. She wasn’t confident in the plan to come out here, since Connor had been the one to mastermind it. Josie liked to be in control, so her first few weeks on the job at her new assignment were not going as she’d planned. She couldn’t afford to mess up another big case with a wanted suspect. And yet, she’d gone way beyond the call of duty by convincing her boss that she needed to see this through. Now, why was that?

Maybe it had been the hard-edged request from Connor over the phone, or it could now be the serious glint in Connor’s storm-blue eyes. Why did they seem so much darker in the moonlight? And why in the world should she trust this man?

Well, the higher-ups—excluding Sherwood, of course—seemed to dote on him and praised his services, assuring her that Connor Randall had turned over a new leaf. Since she didn’t always believe in second chances or quick change-of-heart turnovers, she found that hard to swallow. She was about to test that theory.

Could she be sure? Lord, grant me wisdom.

“What do you expect me to do, besides haul you both in?”

Connor gave her that steady, level stare that worked on most other women. “I expect you to do your job. We have one of the most notorious mobsters in this country in there waiting for us to help him out of a sticky situation. And we don’t have much of a choice, the way I see it.” He leaned close, his smile as enticing as the moonlight. “And we could both use a break, don’t you think?”

Josie pushed at her hair, rattled that he knew her history about as well as she knew his. Okay, so they both had trust issues. And the need to clear a few bad marks. “Yeah, there is that.”

He must have sensed her doubts. “Look, I appreciate this. You’re with me. You’re safe.”

“I don’t need you to keep me safe,” she retorted, touching the gun strapped to her belt. Her whisper was for his ears only. “I’m a big girl, Mr. Randall. I was top of my class at Quantico.”

He held her arm. “Before we go in there, you need to understand something. Being top of your class at anything doesn’t matter to these people. They are the worst kind of scum, and they would sooner butcher you than look at you.”

Blood-soaked images flashed through her head. She’d been undercover during a drug raid in Dallas and...she’d messed up big-time. Her informant, a young female recovering junkie, had been tortured and left for dead because of one slipup. Josie’s slipup. She couldn’t let bad information be her guide ever again.

Somewhere off in the bug-infested woods, an owl hooted. Then she heard the flutter of powerful wings.

Another shiver of apprehension went down Josie’s spine, but she shook it off. “Got it. I’m good.” She stared over at him, took a breath. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring this man down. If we help him tonight, we’ll have leverage, and hopefully, that will convince him to give us the goods on his operation.”

“Exactly,” Connor said as he ushered her to the big front doors. “He hasn’t executed me yet because I’m the only witness and my testimony can save him. And he’s kind of blackmailing me into helping to save his hide. See, we do think alike.”

“For now,” she replied, thinking a jury wouldn’t trust either the Mafia don or the good-looking man in the tux. She sure didn’t, now that he’d told her he was doing this to save himself. What a noble concept. “But, Randall...don’t take me for granted, ever.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Once they were inside, the elegant warmth of the old mansion shimmered in hues of tasteful art, glittering crystal and aged bone china. The place looked untouched, like something out of another century. But the creepy factor echoed in the garish glowing yellow lights and the scent of too much aftershave.

“Swag,” she whispered to Connor. “By the way, let’s start with first names only unless I have to tell him I’m also FBI.”

It still smarted that her new supervisor had kept her so out of the loop on a lot of things regarding Louis Armond that she’d been forced to tug information out of Connor instead. She was surprised Sherwood had let her take point on a one-woman stakeout tonight. But Sherwood had warned her he’d also have a team of other agents out and about, too.

Fat lot of good that had done Armond.

Before he could respond, two big men came up the hall. “We need to check for wires or weapons,” one of them growled.

“I have one gun,” Josie offered, lifting her jacket to show her weapon. “And if you expect me to help with this little problem, I’m keeping it.”

Connor gave a slight nod to the men. After patting her down and checking the gun, they seemed satisfied. But they also followed on her heels.

He turned her to the left and motioned her inside the big, antique-filled drawing room, then closed the aged pocket doors. “Mr. Armond, this is my friend...Josie.”

“Does your friend Josie have a last name?” Armond asked, clearly in control of himself now that help had arrived.

“Just Josie for now,” she replied before Connor could come up with a name. “You only need to remember that.”

“I see, Just Josie.”

Armond sat in a brocade high-backed antique chair, a cup of coffee steaming on the table beside him. His salt-and-pepper hair was crisp with some sort of pomade but his olive-colored skin was pale against his white tuxedo shirt. Did everyone around here wear tuxedos?

Armond gave her a thorough once-over. “So, Connor has briefed you on the situation and...you can take care of this?”

Ah, there was that bit of fear and doubt she’d expected. “Yes, he did, and I can, sir. The good news is that no one has come forward stating they saw you with the girl. So far Connor is your only witness and he can vouch for you. The bad news is that, yes, she’s dead and, yes, the NOPD is all over this.”

“So my name hasn’t come up?”

“Not so far. The only news right now is that there’s been a shooting near the Quarter.” She pulled out her cell. “I’m checking any trending right now.”

“Trending?” Armond looked confused.

Connor stepped forward. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Josie sat beside him on an exquisite butter-yellow brocade sofa. “Trending—it means news of your mishap might be all over the internet or evening news by now. We’ll check for any witnesses, any mentions of your name, any videos streaming about a woman being murdered.”

Armond’s face twisted. “Lewanna. That’s the woman.” Then he changed his tune. “Isn’t that dangerous, checking on your phone?”

She shook her head. “It’s a burner.”

“Of course,” Connor said on a reassuring note. “I told you Josie knows her stuff.”

Armond didn’t look convinced. “So...what should I do now?”

“I’d say we wait,” Josie replied, her fingers tapping on her phone. It really was a burner. She’d hidden her secure work cell in her car, where his men couldn’t find it when they went out to do a search. She’d fill the burner with what she needed and send it to the fake email account she used as Josie Grant. Then she’d hide the phone in her lockbox in her apartment. If she got out of here alive, of course.

“Look, Mr. Armond, your girlfriend got shot on a city street and there’s bound to be other witnesses who will come forward and tell what they saw.” She leaned forward, her dark bangs covering her face in what she hoped was an intimidating, mysterious way. “Some of them could lie, so it’s a good thing Connor came along when he did. He knows the truth.”

Glancing over at Connor, she caught a whiff of admiration before his eyes went dark again. Then she turned back to Armond and did her tough-girl act. “Did you see the shooter?”

Armond shook his head. “No. I was too busy telling Lewanna to leave. We could never be seen together.” He held his hand to his head as if he had a bad headache. “I can’t believe she’s dead. If my wife hears this...”

Connor got up and poured coffee for Josie and then got himself a cup. “So why did she show up at the opera?”

“She was frightened,” Armond replied, his hand shaking when he tried to take a sip from his cup. He finally gave up and grabbed a silver flask off the table. Opening it, he poured what looked like whiskey into his coffee. “I’ve never seen Lewanna like that. Someone had left a nasty note on her porch, along with a dead rat.”

“Do you think she ratted someone out?” Josie asked.

“No, but someone thinks she did. And that means they also think I ratted them out. Lewanna showed me the note.”

Connor glanced over at Josie and then turned back to Armond. “Do you have that note?”

Armond looked shocked, as if he’d forgotten. “I tucked it into my pocket.” He pulled the crushed paper out and stared down at it, then began reading.

“Your boyfriend has been playing outside the boundaries. Tell Armond he’s a dead man if he crosses that line again.”

He threw the letter down and stared at Connor. “They know something. They musta found out I was meeting you tonight to give you information.”

“You can still give us information,” Connor replied, his gaze full of resolve.

“Did you read that note?” Armond asked in a shout.

Josie took her napkin and reached for the paper, careful to keep her fingerprints off it. “Cutouts from magazines. How juvenile.”

“How serious,” Armond replied. “It might look like I killed her, but I didn’t. I was standing there trying to talk her into leaving. I had dismissed my guards for the sake of privacy.” He rubbed a hand down the bald spot on top of his head. “Happened so fast. Had to be a sniper. It’s a terrible thing, her being shot. But I’m a target, and someone wants me to be aware of that.”

He finished his spiked coffee, back to being the boss he thought he was. “I need you two to get to the bottom of this. Right away. And you need to tell the feds all deals are off.”

Connor gave Josie another glance. “You don’t trust your own people, so that means you think this is an inside job?”

Armond nodded, shrugged. “I’ve made many enemies. Some of my close associates have betrayed me.” His keen stare indicated that Connor was one of those.

Josie did an eye lift to show her displeasure. “Let’s start at the beginning,” she said. “We’ll need a list of anyone you might have inadvertently offended, especially recently. And we need to check all your personal weapons to see if anything is missing.” She tapped notes into her phone.

“Maybe they made it seem like a sniper, but someone else with a closer aim could have done it with a different weapon and a silencer.” She tapped notes into her phone. “The forensic team and medical examiner can determine that if they can find any bullets to compare. Based on the angle and where the bullet entered, the type of weapon, all of that will come into play.”

“The shot could have come from the building directly right behind us.” Armond nodded, snapped his fingers to bring a guard running. After he’d ordered sandwiches, paper and pen, he turned back to Josie and Connor. “You’ll stay here at Armond Gardens as my guests while you’re doing the legwork, understand.”

“That wasn’t a question,” Connor said low to Josie.

“Connor is a very smart man,” Armond said, his demeanor calm now. “He owes me his life, and right now, the only thing keeping him and you alive is my need for expediency on this pressing matter. Do you understand what I’m saying, Josie?”

“Clear as a bell, Mr. Armond. We’re going on a quest of sorts. If we succeed, we live. If we don’t, we die. Am I right?”

Armond’s chuckle was low and sure. “I like this woman.”

She understood the command. Giving Connor a frustrated glare, she turned back to the man sitting like a king across from them. “Okay, then. We’ll start with your immediate staff and work our way out. And I can promise you both, I’ll take care of whoever is behind this.”

And you, too. She would definitely take care of business with Louis Armond. But right now, she was playing a dangerous game. She wasn’t sure if she could help convince Armond to seek immunity and protective custody or try to save him from someone even more dangerous. But Josie did know she had to make sure she kept herself and Connor alive, because they had one thing in common. They both wanted this man out of commission.

FOUR

Armond had left them alone, but a member of his security team stood just outside the partially opened pocket doors. He’d been so paranoid, he’d rushed out of the room with his guard, but he’d ordered a giant named Beaux to guard the door.

Josie had no doubt that Armond would attempt to monitor their conversation. As paranoid as he seemed, he’d have set up security measures in every room in this sprawling mansion.

She went around the big room, touching things here and there in search of electronic bugs. When she was satisfied they were clear, she stared over at Connor and started whispering. “Look, I can’t just hang out here with you and Armond. I’m sure a team is already in place to get to the bottom of this, and they’ll want an update.”

Connor stepped close. “Careful. That priceless bust on the table by the window has its eye on us.”

Josie tipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Thanks for the heads-up. But we still need to discuss how we’re to handle this.”

Connor let her go, then paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Even though I vouched for you, they won’t leave us alone for very long, so we need to compare notes. I’ve stayed here before, so I know it’s not easy to get out. They’ll make sure we can’t leave if they don’t want us to leave.”

“Why? What good is there for Armond to hold us?”

“None, unless he thinks he needs us for leverage or bargaining. But he’s a hands-on kind of criminal. He’ll want to hover nearby until we prove to him we can help him. We have to convince him that he’s not in danger and that we’re on the level with him. If not, he’ll be done with us and...we’ll disappear in a permanent way.”

“Which is why I had to inform my superior,” she reminded him. “I’m already pushing it by being here without backup.”

“I can try to get us out of here if things get ugly,” Connor replied, still whispering. “I know all the secret passages, but the security here is ironclad.”

Of course he knew all the secret passages. “That’s why he’s keeping you so close,” she offered. “He’s afraid you’ll squeal.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Connor said, his eyes hitting on her lips. “I was close to ending this last year, but that art-heist fiasco kind of blew that out of the water. This is a second chance, if you look at being held captive as a positive thing.”

“A risky chance,” she replied. Josie tried to reestablish her position. “I get that you’re part of the inner circle, but I do have a job to do, remember? I can’t hang out and pretend I’m some mysterious cleaner. Armond expects action, not explanations.”

He shot a covert glance toward the hallway. “I can do the talking for both of us. Leave you out of any threads.”

What, did the man use a messenger pigeon? “I’m already tangled up in all the threads,” she retorted. “Besides, I have a secure phone in my car.”

“And how do you propose we get to that phone?”

Josie couldn’t believe she’d walked into such a convenient trap. “You’ve got me right where you want me, Randall. What’s the deal here?”

His face tightened into an irritated glare. “The deal is—I asked for your help and you came. So we have to see this through. Get over the notion that I’m out to do you in. I have enough problems without that kind of attitude.”

The man who’d fooled so many people was lecturing her about attitude? Josie wanted to handcuff him and take him into town, fast. But she had agreed to help him. Getting Armond had to be her only goal. For now.

“Okay, so what’s the protocol? How did you handle things with your last liaison?”

Connor lowered his voice again. “I came and went on my own most of the time, but when I needed to get a message out, I sent a text on a secure phone to an address that looks like it belongs to my sister, Deidre.” He put a finger to his lips to indicate they still needed to whisper.

Josie mouthed the words. “With an encryption?” How cloak-and-dagger of him.

“Yes, several codes. My friends know all of them.” He touched on his phone.

Josie nodded. The text messages were rerouted to the FBI. “I see your point.”

“Will that work?”

She nodded. “We need to let my, uh...boss know I’ll be late for work.” She glanced around, sure someone was listening right along with watching them. “Really late.”

“I’ll fix it,” he replied.

Not liking his smug tone, she shook her head. “No, we’ll fix it. You don’t make a move without me, understand?”

“Got it.” But he gave her a look that indicated he didn’t like her bossing him around. Then he started back tapping at his phone.

Wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his handsome face, she got right in his ear. “Maybe your last contact got transferred for this very reason, Randall. You didn’t play by the rules, and you didn’t bring Armond down when you had a chance.”

His expression hardened to stone. “Look, we can play this game of ‘I don’t like you, Connor Randall’ all night or we can get word out that you’re in and we’re a team now.”

He was right. They were wasting time standing here while Armond could be escaping out the back door. Or worse, while he waited for them to force the issue, or else. “If his people do a background search, they might figure out I’m FBI,” she said. “So we need to establish that I’m legit so we can stall him. Once we have him at the safe house, I’ll come clean.”

Connor clicked his phone. “I’ll tell Deidre that I can’t wait to see her on Mother’s Day.”

“That’s sweet, but this doesn’t involve your mother.”

“If you studied my file, you’d know my mother is dead,” he retorted with iron force.

“Sorry,” Josie replied, truly apologetic. She had studied his file. Several times. She should have remembered that fact, but the man had her all tied in knots. She attributed that to plain not liking him and missing her favorite pizza, but she had a feeling it went deeper than that. “Mother’s Day is your code...for what?”

“Mother’s Day means I’m in,” he explained. “My fail-safe is Thanksgiving.”

Josie almost smiled at that. “Is the Easter Bunny one of your cute little codes?”

“Funny.” He didn’t laugh. “No, but Memorial Day is coming up. A whole month or so with you, Josie. I see fireworks in my future and, yes, this could be memorable.”

“Just get back on task,” she replied, but she saw the gleam in his interesting eyes. So Mr. Cool had a sense of humor and he knew how to flirt. Too bad she really didn’t care. “So we go with Mother’s Day. And?”

“And I’ll be staying here for the weekend with my friend Josie, who needs to settle in and get established in her new position. Josie ‘handles’ things for people.”

“All right. We should be okay for now. But I do want to check on the latest update.” She didn’t like putting the cart before the horse, but what else could she do? They were stuck here with Armond until they could produce a plan of action.

So they both went to work, sending cryptic messages and waiting for even more cryptic replies. Soon they had enough of an update to give Armond a fresh report.

“We could tell him the truth,” she suggested on a read-my-lips whisper, her mind whirling.

“Excuse me?”

If this hadn’t been so serious, she would have laughed at the comical shock on his face. “We tell him it’s been handled. Which it has. We can inform him we’ve called our contacts and he’s safe as long as he does exactly what we tell him to do.” She started tapping away on her burner again. “I’ll even call some of my other confidential informants to make sure we have the right information.”

“And?”

“And we show him why we need to focus on keeping him safe. We can’t go after whoever did this if we’re babysitting a paranoid Mafia boss. We need to move him to another location.”

Connor relaxed again. “That’s a good point. If the locals and the FBI can keep his name out of this for now, we can search for the real killer, and if we find that person, we’ll have them both in a corner.” He glanced toward the door. “And an added bonus—we get to live.”

Josie crossed her arms. “Armond has to trust us with sensitive information, so we need to really make this work.”

“I can handle him,” Connor replied. “He’ll come around if I keep working on him.”

She saw the confidence in his eyes. “You sure are smug for someone who walks in two worlds. You expect the man who probably wants you dead to trust you?”

“I’m trying to be low-key and relaxed for the camera.” He moved close. “So far, we’ve been whispering, but maybe we should act a little more lovey-dovey for the tiny red button embedded in that beautiful woman’s necklace.”

She didn’t dare turn to look at the stone-faced interpretation of a woman draped in robes. The one he’d mentioned earlier. But she scratched her ear and mouthed I don’t see how being lovey-dovey can help us.

He flashed his classic charmer smile. “I don’t know. Just smile and pretend you like me, and who knows, maybe you will one day.”

She grimaced and then laughed. “Too late for that. Why don’t we continue to pretend we’re putting our heads together to figure this out?”

“We are doing that.” He tipped his forehead to hers, then stood back. “I like literal interpretations.”

Shocked at how much that brief contact had zapped her awareness, she asked, “Is that your secret-handshake kind of thing?”

“That’s my staying-alive kind of thing. I have to be a carefree drifter who has a new woman on his arm every night. You need to be my latest conquest.”

Josie didn’t want to think about that, and she didn’t want to acknowledge the hum of curiosity and chemistry his words provoked. Now was not a good time to explore that little tug she’d felt earlier. “Don’t count me in on that list.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that. Not in reality. Right now, however...”

“We pretend.”

“Yes. Hard as that might be for you, we need to ramp up the sizzle that Armond will expect. If he thinks we’re close, he’ll be distracted, and that will crack his famous armor.”

Josie conceded yet again but her heart shouted a warning. Connor’s explanation was so smooth she felt the kiss of silk moving over her skin. She was supposed to be professional and courteous while she gave Armond a show? “The sizzle? Like bacon on a hot griddle?”

“Exactly.” His eyes lit up into a shimmering blue-gray as he turned and tapped out a text report. “We might end up liking each other yet.”

“Don’t get your hopes up on that,” she retorted. But she still felt the warm imprint of his touch after she said it.

* * *

Connor paced, his mind clicking with ideas. He was used to taking care of himself, but now he had Josie to think about. True, she was a trained agent, but his last FBI handler had been a tall, strapping fiftysomething family man. Big difference.

Of course, Josie Gilbert would tell him to drop the protective-male persona. She gave off so many hostile vibes he was surprised he hadn’t been burned by electricity by now.

Just one more thing for him to deal with—a bitter female FBI agent. Bitter? Or just determined to prove her worth after that little dustup in Dallas?

Connor certainly could understand that concept, since his now-dead mother had been a hard-core, bitter working woman. He didn’t mind that so much, but being around Josie only made him want things he couldn’t have. He’d been on his own for too long now to think about normal, mundane things such as dating or dancing or settling down. He would never admit it, but he liked working with the feds on the good side of the law. For a change. He did the same things that he’d always done, but now he used his experience and talent to help bring in criminals. That gave him a bit of redemption, at least.

He wondered about Josie. What drove her to be so structured and buttoned-up? Had she believed she’d come from a normal, peaceful family or had she known early on that something was off with her successful father? Had she grown up in a small town with the white picket fence and the whole cheerleader, high-school-prom persona? Probably. Until it had all come crashing down.

That crash and burn would explain her need for justice now.

He’d have to find out so he could see inside her head. Sure, he’d found her file and...studied it, but some of the things that had transpired in Dallas were on a need-to-know basis. Probably to protect her identity. Connor wanted the real Josie to show up.

But right now, Louis Armond was waiting in his office for an update. So Connor planned to give him one.

“Are you ready?” he asked Josie.

“Ready, set, go,” she retorted on a close whisper. “We’ve covered every angle, including a thorough email report to Sherwood. If Armond asks for my credentials, we give him a rundown. If that doesn’t work, we give him the phone number.”

“And he’ll call and get a glowing report on your services.”

“Everything is in place,” she whispered. “We’re on our own unless we give the fail-safe signal.” She adjusted her black leather jacket. “And I’m not talking Mother’s Day here, Randall.”

“Why don’t you call me Connor?” he suggested, hoping to crack just a tiny edge of that chip on her shoulder.

“Why don’t you just lead on?” she replied.

But he did see a trace of acceptance in her eyes.

Progress, at least.

“All right, so we have our stories straight?”

She gave him a curt nod.

Connor turned to the giant guard waiting outside the drawing-room doors. He prayed this would work and that Armond would finally agree to immunity in exchange for his testimony regarding his nefarious associates. Connor had managed to unearth enough information to know the man had some sort of silent partner.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said to Josie.

She gave him a look of resolve and challenge.

Josie Gilbert might be the biggest challenge he faced right now.

FIVE

The giant took them to the back of the house, where Armond’s massive study offered a wall of windows that gave a stunning view of the back gardens. With moonlight and strategically placed spotlights shining on it, the big sloping yard took on an ethereal glow. Only, tonight the moonlight seemed to chase after too many shifting shadows. Was someone out there right now, ready to do harm to all of them?

Josie’s golden-green eyes widened with a grudging admiration of the view, but she wiped her expression clean and turned tough again. “Mr. Armond, we’ve talked to all of our sources, and so far, you’re in the clear. No new information. But the police do know Lewanna’s identity, and they do have witnesses that reported seeing a man holding a gun standing near the body. Since the shot was muffled with a silencer, no one heard anything.” That had just come via rerouted text straight from her supervisor.

She tossed things over to Connor with a solemn stare.

“No one has yet identified me or my car,” Connor said. “If anyone saw you get in my car, they’re not talking.”

“Any reports of other such shootings?” Armond asked, clearly still shaken.

“No,” Connor replied. “Do you expect that?”

“I have no idea,” Armond retorted. “But if they were willing to kill Lewanna, they’ll probably try to kill anyone else close to me.” He glanced out the window, then back at Connor. “You already know too much. Some of my associates might feel the same way now.” He shook that off with a shrug. “I’m glad my wife is safe in New York.”

“Are you sure she’s safe?” Josie asked, her tone as warm and unaffected as the still wind outside.

“I have people in place,” Armond said with another shrug.

“Can you trust them?” Connor asked, wondering why Armond didn’t trust his local security team.

“I have to trust them right now,” Armond responded. “I’m a sitting duck. I knew better than to get involved with the feds. Starting with you.”

“You can trust me,” Connor replied, hating the lie but using his close relationship with the old man as collateral.

“I only need you now to hide me and help keep me safe,” Armond retorted. “Don’t make me regret that decision.”

And so much for that. Connor glanced at Josie. “He’s right. We have to be careful here. A lot of unsavory people know I work for Mr. Armond.”

Armond’s bushy brows lifted at that statement. “You used to work for me, but we both know why I had to...let you go.”

Connor cleared his throat. “Yes, but I’m back for now. If everyone can work with that?”

“I don’t have a choice and you certainly don’t,” Armond said, his gaze saying otherwise. “But I’m watching you, Randall.” He gave Josie a harsh appraisal. “And I’m still not sure about you, young lady. I’ll have my people do a rundown on you, but I need your full name.”

Josie gave him one of her undercover names. “Grant. Josie Grant.”

“Do you mind if I do a background check?”

“Not a problem for me,” Josie replied, her tough-girl stance sounding completely real. She tossed her straight dark hair and crossed her arms over her shiny black leather jacket. “I always watch my back.” She tapped her phone. “I’ve put people in place to squelch any rumors. And I’ve already done my homework on you. Your name won’t cross any lips.” Her eyes slanted up. “You command a lot of respect around these parts, Mr. Armond.”

Armond chuckled. “And I intend to keep it that way.” But he didn’t sound so confident right now. After giving her name to one of the guards, he waited, staring at them until the man returned and whispered something in his ear.

“Seems you also command a great deal of respect, Josie...Grant.”

“That’s what I get paid for,” Josie replied, obviously relieved that Sherwood and the techs had managed to set up a cover so quickly. She named her price and waited. Armond’s slight nod got his men moving. Josie sent the old man a lifted eyebrow in thanks.

Nerves of steel, Connor decided. He liked that in a woman.

Connor wondered if Armond truly did care about his wife or his grown son. The man was all about making more money, and he really didn’t care how he did that. Or who he hurt or destroyed in doing it. But he’d made and lost more money than anyone knew, and he’d had to get into cahoots with some ruthless people. In return, he’d pledged to keep names out of the conversation. Until the FBI had cornered him and offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse. No wonder he was afraid someone was after him. They’d need to remember that, too.

“Did you make that list of people you suspect?” Josie asked. “I can get right on that, since we’ve done a rundown on any chatter and cleaned that up for now.” She glanced around the room. “And we need to check your personal weapons.”

“I have the list you requested but it’s only a partial one.”

Connor’s hope deflated. The man still refused to name the main players. Witnessing the death of his mistress had done exactly what those players wanted it to do—scare Armond back into silence.

“Let’s get started on checking the weapons,” Josie said, shifting a worried glance toward Connor.

Armond motioned to a guard to open the weapons cabinet on the other side of the room. “And call down and have someone check all of the weapons in the cellar cabinet, too.” After a few minutes of waiting silence, Armond held up the list, but kept it away from Josie. “Just how exactly do you expect to continue cleaning up this situation?”

Connor had expected this. Armond didn’t trust anyone, but then he was a powerful man with a lot of powerful rivals. He’d go for nothing less than an all-out protection detail.

Before Josie could reply, a guard came in and whispered into Armond’s ear again. Armond’s almond-colored eyes widened.

“One of my high-powered rifles is missing.”

Josie turned to the guard to jot down the make and model of the missing weapon. Then she put her hands down on Armond’s desk. “That means even if you didn’t pull the trigger, someone took one of your weapons to make it look like you ordered the hit.”

“I bought that particular rifle for...my son.”

Connor grunted. “If they find one of your guns near the crime scene, you can bet they’ll want to question you.”

“I thought you were taking care of things,” Armond blurted, his anger boiling over toward Josie.

Josie went into tough-chick mode with a flip of those long, tattered brunette bangs. “Hey, I’ve already had a thorough report of the crime scene, and they didn’t find a gun. And we both patched things up to make sure your name won’t come up for now.” She put her hands on her hips and walked straight to the end of Armond’s huge teakwood desk. “I didn’t come out here in the middle of the night to enjoy the view, Mr. Armond. I’m good at what I do, but if you wanna find someone else—”

“I don’t,” he said, waving a hand to a hovering guard. “I just have to be sure about these things.”

“We all have to be sure,” Connor said, stepping in. “You need to get out of here. Josie and I think we need to go back into the city to do some footwork.”

“Unacceptable. I have the latest electronic equipment right here. You can research anything you need.”

Josie hit a palm on the desk. “Look, Mr. Armond, I know who you are and what you do. That’s not my problem. But if you want my services, then first, you need to pay me my asking price, and second, you need to trust me completely. Stop playing this game of passive-aggressive control. I’ll go out that door right now and leave you and your men here to finish this job.”

“You leave when I say so,” Armond retorted.

“You’re not my boss,” Josie replied.

Connor smelled a fight. Maybe Josie was spoiling for one, but he wasn’t. Not just yet.

“Hey, we have to stick together,” he said on an easy breath. “You don’t trust me, but remember, I did help you find the Benoit paintings—all three of them. And I haven’t sold you out to the FBI even though they’ve pulled me in, several times.”

He glanced at Josie, remembering how she’d been in on one of the last debriefings he’d had to endure. “I’m here to help, Mr. Armond. You can still make a clean break by telling us who your partner is. Or haven’t you realized that someone inside your organization is betraying you in a big way?”

“And that person could easily be you,” Armond replied.

“Me?” Connor held up his hands. “I don’t like guns. And why would I take out Lewanna? She seemed like a nice girl.”

“You shut up about Lewanna,” Armond shouted with a finger in Connor’s face. “You’re here because I decided to use your expertise instead of wasting you or maybe before I waste you,” Armond reminded him. “Just remember that whenever you think about walking away.”

“Nobody’s walking here,” Josie replied, her eyes snapping with annoyance. “We’re here to protect you, and it seems apparent that someone close to you is involved in this. Let’s get over the paranoia and work on getting to the bottom of this.”

Armond stared up at her, his dark brown eyes burning between insolence and fear. Josie stared right back, her expression unrelenting.

Armond finally sat back in his big leather chair. “What happens next?”

Josie stood, gave Connor a relieved glance and then turned back to Louis Armond. “We make a plan to move you. But until then, you stay put with your guards. You don’t let anyone but the two of us in or out of this compound.”

“Understood.”

Connor took over. “We go into the city, do our thing with setting you up in a safe place. Look for that missing gun. We’ll question the kind of people the police can’t even begin to find and we’ll get to the truth about who killed Lewanna.”

“You will report back to me.”

Not a question, but a demand.

“Of course.” Connor came to stand by Josie. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Armond stood and shook his head. “I need a more reassuring guarantee. Before I agree to move, you have to agree to one of my men accompanying you at all times. As insurance, of course.”

Josie let out a sigh. “You need to trust us.”

Armond motioned for the giant. “I will, because Beaux is going to be with you. He knows how to make people more trustworthy.”

Connor and Josie exchanged looks. Beaux was big, really big, and he had a perpetual scowl on his meaty face. He’d be hard to shake. And deadweight in quick getaways.

“Uh, that’s not such a good idea, Mr. Armond,” Connor replied.

“Then we all sit here and watch and wait,” Armond retorted.

Josie let out an exaggerated grunt. “Look, let’s just get moving with this before someone comes after you again. If he wants to tag along, then so be it. I refuse to sit here wasting precious time when I could be out there clearing you of any wrongdoing.”

She gave Connor a look that could have melted the Remington sculpture displayed behind Armond’s desk. This was not going to be easy. But then, Connor had learned that working with criminals and agents never was. And here he stood caught between two very opposing forces.

He had a feeling things would only get worse.

Things got worse in the next second.

They heard an explosion somewhere deep in the interior of the house.

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