Read Trust No One Online

Authors: Diana Layne

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Spies & Politics, #Espionage, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

Trust No One (45 page)

BOOK: Trust No One
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“I’m not–” Ben protested, interrupting Tasha when a knock on the door interrupted both of them.

All three pairs of eyes turned to the door.

“Tulsa police. Open up.”

MJ’s eyes widened. Police?

Ben.

She sprang to her feet, ready to kill. “You.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Her heart ripped open further, this time from pain. Later, she’d have to sew up her defenses again. For now, she had to survive what seemed to be a quickly developing clusterfuck. “You used my baby to get us here. You had the police waiting.”

He shook his head. “No. This isn’t right. My sister’s a cop, something’s wrong.”

“A cop? How convenient. Told you it could be a trap,” Tasha said.

“No, it’s not convenient,” Ben protested. “Something is wrong. She knows what I’m doing. They shouldn’t be here.”

His sister was a cop? Wasn’t that lovely? Built-in help for a trap. “Angelina.” So close but too far. The enormity of what was happening pressed on MJ. She sank back onto the bed, let her head drop into her hands. She’d shared thoughts with this man, nursed him, slept with him through his nightmares, shared her body. He knew how important Angel was. She thought he understood.

Oh, he understood all right. He knew Angelina was the only thing that would bring her running.

And it worked.

Ben knelt in front of her, pressed his hand against her knees. “I swear, I didn’t–”

Another pound on the door cut him off. Just as well, she didn’t want to hear his lies, she’d want to believe them too badly.

“Open now, or we’re busting down the door.”

“We fighting or we going?” Tasha asked, setting Cy aside to check her weapons.

No doubt the three of them could take them. “They’ll likely have a sniper positioned.”

“True.”

“Then there’s Angel. I don’t want to screw up the adoption beyond repair.”

“It’s looking pretty screwed already. We can work around it.”

MJ knew that would mean leaving the country, not an option she wanted to be forced to choose. “Or I can hope for another time to fight.”

“Then we’re going to have to open the door before the big boys out there bust it down.” She picked Cy up in one arm, slipped her two pistols and knife back into her bag and walked toward the door. “Keep your shirt on, fellas. We’re getting dressed in here.”

Dressed?

Tasha opened the door. When she did, three policeman rushed into the room revolvers drawn, a fourth was left standing in the doorway with his revolver out as well.

Tasha, in typical Tasha fashion remained calm and unruffled. “You’re interrupting a little
Ménage e trois
you know.” With Cy tucked under one arm, Tasha ran her free hand down her neck, drawing attention to her breasts.

“What?” the policeman in the doorway asked, his gaze darting inside. He realized he’d been duped. His voice hardened.

“Step back, ma’am. Hands up.”

“Ooh, I like your accent, honey,” Tasha drawled.

He ignored her, seeming to pay little attention to her sultry posturing. Instead, he waved his revolver like a pointer, which was not only unprofessional but dangerous. He might be one of those backwoods cops who got off on guns more than women. “You two. Over there, too. Hands in the air.”

“Officer . . . Johnson,” Tasha said, pausing just long enough to read his nametag, “I can’t exactly hold both my hands in the air.”

The policeman, with hard eyes under bushy black eyebrows, looked as if he could easily be tempted to use Cy for target practice. “Put the dog down. Raise your hands.”

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Do it.”

When Tasha complied, Cy went nuts, running toward Officer Johnson, snarling, grabbing his leg. “Ouch, get him off.” He shook his leg and motioned to another cop, the combination of movements making him look as if he were doing a strange new dance. “Get this damn dog now before I shoot him.”

The second cop bent over and tried to grab Cy, but the dog turned on him and snapped his finger between sharp little teeth. “Shit.” The cop jerked his hand away and jumped back. “Shoot him,” he ordered.

“Um . . . really that would be so messy. I should hold him instead,” Tasha said, her voice resounding with an I-told-you-so kind of resignation. Her calm was amazing given Cy’s life looked to be very close to ending. MJ knew it was an act and Tasha would take out the cops single-handedly before she let them kill her dog.

“Do it slowly,” Officer Johnson agreed.

Tasha knelt and scooped up the dog.

While Tasha picked up Cy, MJ spotted Ben out of the corner of her eye. He was staring across the street through the open door.

MJ followed his gaze, looking past the fourth officer who stood framed in the open doorway. Across the street, in the fast food play yard, a woman holding Angel stood watching them.

“Angelina,” MJ whispered, her heart ripping. She grabbed hold of the only hope she could grasp at the moment. She’d done nothing wrong. Okay, maybe impersonating the nurse and the B&E was illegal, but killing those men had been strictly self-defense.

Come to think of it, none of the cops had mentioned why they were there waving their guns around like drunk cowboys.

MJ, feeling it was better to deal with the known than unknown, asked them. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“We have warrants for two women. MJ Thornberg. Tasha Shivko.”

Yeah, well, there it was out in the open.

“May I see the warrants?” Ben asked, sounding genuinely curious.

As if. MJ firmly believed Ben had ratted them out. He was the reason cops were here. The reason it was going to take her longer to get Angel.

If that woman was even his mother. Most likely she was an agent from Vista. It was entirely possible that by the time they were processed and released from jail, Angel would be lost in the foster system, never again to be seen.

MJ’s heart stuttered. She braced her legs to steady herself. That couldn’t happen. Somehow she had to keep that from happening.

Damn Ben.

“So we’re under arrest?” Tasha asked, while Ben looked at the warrant.

Officer Johnson blinked. Tasha’s question seemed to momentarily stun him. Surely they didn’t do things so differently in Oklahoma. A warrant equaled arrest, right?

After giving the impression of mulling the question over in his mind, Johnson answered. “Yes, ma’am, you are. You’ll need to find something to do with that dog so we can cuff you.”

“Looks like everything’s in order,” Ben said, handing the papers back. “But with this dog situation, why don’t we meet you at the station later, and you can make the formal arrest then? That way we’ll have time to take the dog to a safe place.”

“Since you’re not under arrest, why don’t you just take the dog yourself, or else I’ll call animal control?”

Ben lowered an eyebrow, obviously remembering a few minutes earlier he’d been on the wrong side of Cy’s teeth himself.

“Get his leash,” Tasha suggested. “I’ll hook it on him and you can hold him while we leave.”

“Careful there,” Officer Johnson said, watching Ben. Of course the other three policemen couldn’t be ignored either.

Once Ben had the dog, snarling and snapping at the end of a tight leash, one of the other cops holstered his revolver, briefly patted Tasha down before pulling her arms behind her to cuff her wrists together. He repeated the procedure with MJ.

So where were their rights? MJ kept quiet knowing that could be a minor technicality that would set them free.

But not to be. He Mirandized them as he led them to the unmarked squad car. He opened the back door.

Tasha slid onto the back seat first. “It’s very cold out here, could we have our jackets?”

Officer Johnson instructed another cop to get their jackets while MJ followed Tasha into the car. The cop with the jackets tossed them into the backseat and slid into the front passenger seat. MJ didn’t catch the name on his tag, but this one had sandy blond hair that looked in need of a good haircut. Not nearly as neat and professional looking as Officer Johnson with his dark military style hair, his mustache well trimmed.

“Sir, if I could ask you a few questions?” MJ heard one of the remaining two policemen say to Ben before Officer Johnson slammed the car door shut.

Immediately she looked for Ben, standing in the doorway, still holding Cy on his leash. They rather matched, man and dog, she thought. Both with dark eyes and dark hair, both dangerous, and yet both capable of being very cuddly. MJ smiled.

“Glad you’re so cheery about this,” Tasha said.

“You know that old saying, it’s easier to smile than frown.” MJ didn’t want to tell Tasha she’d been smiling over Ben and that damn dog.

“Okay, honey, you keep on smiling all through the time they book your ass for murder.”

The smile dropped off MJ's face.

 

* * *

 

“Sure,” Ben said in response to the officer’s request to talk to him. “Let me go lock the little dog into the bathroom.” He turned around and headed into the room, followed by the cop. Cy snarled and snapped, fighting the leash. Damn, what did Tasha see in this dog? Ben dragged the little furball behind him, hoping he could get him through the bathroom door and lock the door behind him. After the remaining two policemen left, he’d call his mom. She had a way with animals as well as children.

Ben began to make plans. Not only was he now left with a kid and a dog, he’d have to go to the jail and make bail for MJ while being careful to not get caught himself for the Amber Alert. No, maybe he better have his sister take care of springing MJ from jail. He supposed he’d have to ask his mom to help a while longer.

For now, he didn’t want to answer police questions until he had the dog locked in the bathroom. “Should just take a minute for me to get this little dog in the bathroom so I can answer–”

Ben caught a glimpse of an upraised arm out of his peripheral vision. Before he could turn or step away pain exploded.

Then the world went black.

 

* * *

 

Ben’s mother, or the woman pretending to be Ben’s mother, still held Angel from inside the play area at the fast food restaurant. MJ hungrily watched her baby as they drove by.
Oh, Angel, when will I get to hold you again? 

MJ remembered back to the first time she’d seen Angel, held the warm wiggly body. No, she didn’t need those memories; she drew herself back to the present before she got lost in the past.

“She’s probably not even his mom.” She spoke quietly, aware only a cage separated them and the two policemen in the front seat.

“You’re convinced lover boy set us up?” Tasha asked in a voice just as quiet.

MJ hated like hell that Tasha phrased it that way. Made her feel stupid all over again. Because she had started considering him trustworthy, or at least hoped. Just a little. Boy, she sucked at judging men’s character. Seriously.

“I don’t see any other explanation.”

“At least this one didn’t try to kill you.”

“You’re cruel, woman. But right.” MJ shot her a dark look. “Did they mention why we’re under arrest?”

“I don’t think they did. Seemed like they were struggling to simply remember what they were supposed to do,” Tasha said under her breath.

MJ agreed with that assessment and was tempted to say more when something jumped out at her. “Didn’t we just pass the road the police station is on?” she said, still careful to whisper. They’d driven over in this area when they first got to town.

Tasha stared back at the road they passed. She turned back to MJ, one eyebrow arched.

“You know you just missed the turn to the police station?” Tasha asked. “Do you book somewhere else?”

“Yeah,” the cop in the passenger seat laughed. It wasn’t a sound MJ liked. “We book somewhere else.”

MJ and Tasha stared at each other. ‘Set up’ their gazes said to each other. Somehow or another, something wasn’t right. Either these cops had been paid off. Or there was another possibility. They weren’t really cops at all.

MJ’s stomach dropped. She so did not need this.

Tasha looked grim.

The cop car looked real. There was a cage between the seats. No handles on the inside of the back doors. Perhaps these were fake cops, and they bought a car at auction. Which honestly would be the best of the two bad situations.

If they were real policemen who were on the take, it would be harder to get away unscathed. Things could get ugly quick if they had to kill a real cop to escape . . . no question, it would be life or death because real policemen wouldn’t let them walk away alive, not wanting the two women to be able to testify.

With the sun dropping lower in the afternoon sky behind them, it became obvious they were heading east out of town. Toward the foothills of the Ozarks. As they drove on, the road eventually rose at a gradual incline, and the car suddenly started slowing.

BOOK: Trust No One
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