Collision Course (15 page)

Chapter Eight

They
were silent as he drove to the motel. Grateful for it, Trey used the
opportunity to organize his thoughts. He had to tell everything to Casey in a
way she’d believe. Not figure him for a crazy person. Or worse yet, think him
involved in the whole thing and haul his ass to the sheriff.

As he
always did when he pulled into the motel parking lot, he scanned the area,
checking license plates on the cars before driving around to the rear of the
building. He couldn’t believe his sudden attack of nerves when he unlocked his
door and stood aside to let Casey precede him. He was glad he’d left the
bedside lamp on low so they weren’t walking into a dark room.

Casey
sat down in one of the two chairs at the standard motel small round table,
waiting for Trey to take the other one. Instead he locked and bolted the door
then shoved his hands in his pockets and began pacing.

“T.J.,
sit down. Please.”

He
paused for a moment in front of her. “I can’t. Sorry. Would you like
something?” He waved at the room. “Not much here, but I can offer coffee or a
cold drink.”

“What
I’d like is for you to tell me the real reason you’re in Connelly and why it’s
got your shorts in such a twist.”

He blew
out a breath. “Okay. Only please don’t think I’m making this all up.”

“Why
would I do that?”

“You’ll
know when you hear what I have to say.”

“Then
say it, damn it.” She shifted in her chair. “Come on, T.J. I promise you can
trust me. And maybe I can help you.”

Trey
tried to tell her everything in a logical manner, beginning with the telephone
call, but his mind kept jumping bouncing from one event to another. To her
credit, she listened in silence, not interrupting, until he got it all out. He
paused twice to run a glass of water from the bathroom sink, chugging it down
each time. When he finished, he dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed,
worn out from the effort, panicked all over again as he realized the danger of
his situation.

“T.J.?”
Her soft voice had the feel of a caress. “T.J., look at me.”

He
lifted his gaze, hesitant at what he’d see written on her face. A lot of the
tension drained from his body when he saw not censure or denial but
understanding and a strange kind of sympathy.

“First
of all,” she began, “in my six years with the feds, I was either involved in or
heard about cases like this but on a much smaller scale. It happens more often
than you might think and of course more than you see on television or read
about.”

“So I’m
what, a dummy, for being so naïve about it?”

“Not at
all.” She shook her head. “Why on earth would you have reason to suspect a man
like Charles Bennett of anything illegal? Check out at his reputation, for
god’s sake. The people he’s seen with. It would be like suspecting the pope.”

Trey
raked his fingers through his hair. “But…listen, I like to think I’m smarter
than the average bear. Shit. I have two college degrees and fifteen years’
experience in the global marketplace. I should be aware if something not kosher
is going on. Except…”

“Yes,
except.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Okay, some things to consider here
in order of importance.”

“First
is getting the sheriff off my back,” he told her. “If we don’t I have no choice
but to leave here.”

“No.”
Casey shook her head. “No, you can’t leave for a lot of reasons. The first one
being we don’t know how safe the next place can be.”

“I
realize that but—”

She
leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face serious. “The second is, I can
protect you if you’ll let me.” When he started to object, she held up a hand.
“You’d be foolish not to take advantage of what I can offer. I’ve seen you on
the gun range, and you’re good. Damn good, as a matter of fact. But I’m better
and you know it. And with more than the handgun.”

He
lifted an eyebrow. “What else?”

“You
mean besides my excellent Krav Maga skills?”

He gave
her a half-grin. “I have to say I don’t know too many women who are trained in
the official self-defense system of the Israeli Defense
Forces.”

“Well, then.” She let out a breath.
“T.J., I’ve
got all those years with the feds and the military, years when I learned how to
sniff out something off. How to be ready for anything.”

“I
suppose you’re going to tell me you sniffed me out right away.”

Casey’s
eyes were glued to him as she answered. “As a matter of fact, I did. I knew the
minute you walked into the Half ’n Half you were hiding from someone. Or
something.
For a second I thought it might be the law, but if it was you’d hide
yourself someplace where you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. My next guess?
You were hiding from someone dangerous in a place you didn’t think they’d look
for you. How am I doing so far?”

So far,
she’d hit the nail on the head. The fear snaked through him again. If she’d
noticed it, who else had? Obviously, the sheriff.

Shit,
shit, shit.

“It’s
okay.” She hitched her chair closer to him. “T.J., I can help you.” Her laugh
was a little unsteady. “Unless, of course, you’re one of those macho men who
can’t accept help from a woman.”

“No, I’m
not.” He blew out a breath. “And yes—an unqualified yes —to your offer of help.
Jesus, I’d be pretty stupid to turn it down, wouldn’t I?”

“Okay,
then.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Okay, one more question.”

“Anything.”

“What made
you decide to trust me? Tell me what’s going on with you. I’d think in your
position, you wouldn’t trust anyone.”

His gaze
slid away from her. “I know how stupid I’m going to sound. More than you can
imagine. But I have…a feeling about you. My gut tells me if you knew the truth
about my situation you wouldn’t tell me I’m crazy or tell me to go to the cops.
Or worse yet, call Charles Bennett and tell him some nut was running around
telling crazy stories about him. We’ve had a connection practically from day
one.” He shifted his gaze to her face. “Go ahead, tell me how idiotic I sound.”

But the
look she gave him said the opposite. “A connection? Then I must be an idiot,
too, because I felt the same thing.” She rubbed her hands over her face.
“Although I have to tell you, any kind of connection was totally off my radar.”
She inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “But we’re in it, now, and I’ve got
your back.”

“I’m
glad someone does because I’m in way over my head here.”

“First
we need to do something about the good sheriff. Make him stop thinking of you
as a so-called ‘person of interest.’ That means we need a plausible story.”

“Let me
put on a pot of coffee. One thing I have to say about this place. They don’t
stint on the few amenities they offer.”

“Good.
Coffee’s good.”

Casey
watched him brew the coffee, fill two clean mugs and bring them to the table. A
visible line of tension still ran through his body, the air around him
vibrating with it. But his face appeared a little more relaxed. She had to
swallow her little cry of victory that he willingly trusted her and had agreed
to let her help him. The past ten years had taught her a lot of men had a hard
time giving control to a woman. In charge of things they considered masculine
responsibilities. Thank god T.J. didn’t seem to be one of them.

They
managed to come up with what she considered a plausible line to feed Ben.
Something about T.J. wanting to pursue writing rather than being a part of the
family business. Disagreements with his parents because of it. He’d decided to
drop out of sight until he figured out if he could write something and anyone
would buy it. And his relatives would never think to look for him in a place
like Connelly.

“I can
convince him your story’s real,” she assured him. “Ben knows I have a good
bullshit meter.”

T.J. sat
in the chair opposite her, his body more relaxed, the lines of strain on his
face easing. But she didn’t think anything would cure it until this mess was
over, especially after he told her about the phone call he’d answered by
mistake and the two men who’d tried to box him in at the bank. Then he
explained as best he could what he’d found so far, starting with the infamous
Funda Foundation file.

“Everything
I’ve worked on through today and all my notes on it are stored in a filed in
cyberspace,” he explained. “I didn’t want to take the chance of someone getting
hold of my laptop and reading what I had so far.”

She
listened while he explained everything he’d uncovered, the trail of money and
drugs and guns. The activity in both Africa and South America.

“And
we’re talking about just the tip of the iceberg.”

“You
need to be extra careful,” she cautioned him. “Charles Bennett is a powerful
man on the global scene. And if he’s involved in shit like this, he has
outreach everywhere with some not so nice people.”

“You
think I don’t know that?” He rubbed his face. “Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever
been afraid of anything in my life until now. But the minute I answered the
phone call in his office, the instant I began cracking those files, I began to
live believing every breath I take could be my last one.”

Casey
couldn’t seem to help herself. She reached for one of his hands and closed her
smaller one over it. The simple contact sent heat flushing through her.

“I know
it sounds trite to say it, but we’ll get everything taken care of. I still have
contacts with the feds—”

“No.” He
pulled away. “No feds. I trust you, Casey, but I don’t know any of them. Maybe
one of them is even in Bennett’s pocket. It’s not so farfetched to think so. I
have someone I can go to when I’m ready.”

She
tried not to show her hurt when he drew away. “Who?” she asked. “Who do you
know?”

“Casey,
please. Nothing against you. I trust you but I don’t know your contacts. I have
a friend I went to college with who’s in Homeland Security now. We’ve kept in
touch and I’d feel secure with him.”

“And you
don’t think he’s being paid off?”

He shook
his head. “No. They invented the word honest for Max. But I want to cross every
T
and dot every
I
before I call him.”

“Okay,
then. We have a plan.” She finished the last dregs of the cold coffee and set
the mug on the table. “I think you should take me home now. We both need a good
night’s sleep.”

They
stood at the same moment, close enough she could feel his breath on her face.
She didn’t know who moved first but it didn’t matter. In one second he had his
arms around her, his mouth devouring hers. The sudden intensity of her feelings
and the explosion of need gripping her frightened her. It opened doors she’d
thought closed once and for all.

Painful
memories of Paul Marsden tried to intrude and for a moment every one of her
muscles tensed. She couldn’t make another mistake.
Pretend it’s just sex.
Forget letting out all the emotions you keep bottled up.
This time, she
told herself, she really did just want the hot sex.

Alarm
bells clanged in her brain, so loud they shut out all her thoughts, but the
need roaring through her blunted them. Images of Paul were replaced by flashes
of the dream and her pulse beat a rapid tattoo.

Breathe!
Breathe! Breathe!

Her
breasts ached and the throbbing in her womb invaded her entire body. The
muscles in her pussy clenched with instant need. More than that, she wanted to
take his fear inside her and make the danger go away.

His
large hands moved up and down her back, clutched at the cheeks of her ass,
squeezing them. She pressed as hard against him as she could, feeling the thick
ridge of his erection through the denim of his jeans.

He broke
the kiss, trailing his lips across her cheek and down to her neck where he
nipped then soothed each bite with his tongue. He nibbled at her ear lobe and
swirled the tip of his tongue at the sensitive spot behind her ear. Moving his
hands around to the front, he slid them between their bodies and up to cup her breasts.
He squeezed them, his thumbs rasping her nipples through the layers of her
clothing and her bra. A fresh wave of lust surged through her.

“God,”
he breathed. “I’ve wanted you every day since I laid eyes on you. Thought about
how you’d look with your clothes off. Imagined touching every inch of you.”

“Me,
too.” Oh, yes. She’d imagined it. Memories of her dream flashed through her
brain, ratcheting up her desire for him.

His
mouth moved over her face again, sprinkling kisses even as his hands continued
to roam everywhere on her.

“Clothes,”
he said. “We have too many clothes on.”

The
undressed each other in frantic haste, tossing garments anywhere they landed.
T.J. ripped back the covers on the bed and they tumbled onto the sheets, lips
fused together again, hands roving everywhere.

He knew what to do with a
woman’s body. Knew the right places to touch, to caress, to stimulate. She felt
him everywhere—her breasts, her tummy, her thighs, down between her legs to her
clenching pussy. He separated her folds, gliding into her wet heat. As he
slipped two fingers inside her, his thumb found the hot button of her clit and
rubbed it.

The
heated length of his cock branded itself against her thigh and she reached for
it, her hands itching for it. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the throb
of his pulse in the thick vein wrapped around it. One finger reached up to
touch the velvety top and caught the tiny drop of fluid sitting on the slit.
She wanted to bend her head down to lap at it but she didn’t want to break
T.J.’s hold on her.