Эль Кеннеди – Witness Seduction (страница 4)

Caleb coughed abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrinkling her brow.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, fine.” He began to inch away again. Lord, the way this guy acted, it was as if she was carrying the Ebola virus or something. “I really do have to go. Take care of yourself, uh…?”

“Marley,” she supplied.

“Marley,” he echoed. He lifted his hand, giving a stilted wave and a brisk nod, and then hurried off with long, smooth strides.

She watched as he walked away, shaking her head to herself. He disappeared around the side of the house and a few moments later, she heard the Strathorns’ front door shut.

Okay. Well, that was kind of weird. He was probably telling the truth, and really was renting the house next door, but maybe she ought to call the number Debbie had left for her just to make sure Caleb Ford was who he said he was. He’d been acting a little odd for her liking.

Yeah, she definitely should call, she decided as she bent down to take care of the ladder. She pushed it to the wall, leaning it length-wise against the house, then glanced down at her arm, which was beginning to ooze blood.

With a sigh, she headed into the house, making a mental note to contact Debbie Strathorn as soon as possible. Caleb Ford might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he was still a stranger.

And these days, Marley’s guard went on high alert when it came to sexy men who made her heart skip a beat.

A girl couldn’t be too cautious, after all.

“SO…WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?”

Caleb nearly tripped over his own feet at the sound of AJ’s voice. He’d expected to find the master bedroom empty, but AJ was casually sitting at the desk, sipping from a tall Starbucks cup.

With his military-style buzz cut, tattooed arms and black leather jacket, Adam James Callaghan looked like the type of guy Caleb would be slapping handcuffs on and dragging to jail.

But AJ was a damn good agent, a bit of a legend around the Drug Enforcement Agency. He’d spent three years undercover with a Colombian drug cartel, which was how he’d gotten all the tattoos. Had to prove himself, show he was one of them, AJ had told Caleb. He’d also managed to gather enough evidence to take down the entire organization. But now he was stateside, assigned as Caleb’s new partner.

Caleb walked over to the desk and peered at the monitors, instantly spotting Marley in the kitchen. She was pulling a first-aid kit out of the cupboard under the sink.

“What was what about?” he asked, absently reaching for one of the steaming cups sitting in the cardboard tray on the desk.

AJ shot him a look loaded with disbelief. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I come back from a coffee run to find—”

“You came in from the back, right?” Caleb cut in.

“Yes, I came in from the back. Same way I’ve been coming in for the past week. And yes, I parked the car two streets over. And no, nobody saw me when I cut through the park on my way here.” AJ frowned. “Now quit interrogating me and tell me what the hell you were thinking, making contact with Kincaid.”

Caleb walked over to the king-size bed and sank down onto the edge. “She fell off a ladder.”

AJ swiveled his chair around to face him. “She fell off a ladder,” he repeated.

“Yes, but she managed to hang on to the roof. She would have fallen off that, too, if I hadn’t gone out to help her.” The defensive note in his voice made him want to cringe, but he knew AJ’s thoughts on the subject of Marley Kincaid. And none of them were too positive.

AJ put down his coffee cup in obvious annoyance. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, we’re on a stakeout, man. The whole point of a stakeout is remaining out of sight, inconspicuous.”

“I know that,” Caleb ground out. “But what did you want me to do, watch her tumble to her death?”

“What I want you to do is focus on the bastard that killed one of our own.” AJ frowned. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, Caleb, and I don’t particularly like it, all right? She might very well be helping Grier and you know it.”

“Yes, and she might not be helping him,” Caleb countered, meeting his partner’s hard gaze with one of his own.

“Then explain the hundred grand that was wired into her bank account after the DEA got the tip that Grier was heading to San Diego.”

“It was a joint account, you know that. Grier could’ve made the deposit as easily as Kincaid.”

“And she has no knowledge of what’s going on in her own bank accounts? If a hundred thousand dollars mysteriously wound up in my account, I’d be talking to the bank, or calling the cops. Unless I know my slime-bag ex put it in there, and I’m planning on helping him get out of the country.”

Caleb’s jaw tightened at the thought of Grier taking off and disappearing. Oh, no, not happening. Caleb would catch the son of a bitch long before that happened. The DEA finally had hard evidence on the guy, after years of being unable to bring charges against the supposed web designer. Three months ago, an informant inside the Ruiz cartel—the Brazilian outfit they’d been trying to bust for years—had provided information about a shipment Grier was scheduled to distribute for the Ruizes.

Only, the raid they’d organized hadn’t gone as planned, and Grier had yet again escaped arrest.

“If she’s helping Grier, we’ll find out,” Caleb replied. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe she’s involved, maybe she’s not. But don’t paint her with Grier’s brush until we have some proof.”

Even as he said the words, he knew AJ wouldn’t heed them. His partner believed in Marley’s guilt. Caleb, on the other hand…he was ninety percent sure Marley wasn’t involved in any of this. He didn’t quite believe Marley was in cahoots with Grier now, or that she’d been aware of his actions then. Grier was smooth, and according to his file, he’d fooled women before. Killed them, too, or at least he’d been suspected of it.

Still, ninety percent meant there was still that ten percent of doubt floating around in his head. He didn’t want to believe Marley was somehow funneling money into her ex’s hands, but it wasn’t something he could rule out, either. At least their presence next door ensured they’d see Grier if he showed up.

“And if she’s not involved,” Caleb added, “she could be in danger. You know what happened to Grier’s previous girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she found out he was a criminal and tried to help the cops.”

“Her dead body wound up in a Dumpster in Nevada, for Chrissake.”

AJ sighed. “And I’m sorry that happened to her, but at least she was trying to take down Grier. Kincaid, on the other hand…I don’t know, man, the hundred grand in that bank account makes me mighty reluctant to trust her.”

“Well, you don’t have to trust her. You just need to watch her.” Unwittingly, Caleb snuck another peek at the monitor, where Marley had finished bandaging her cut. She was now in the second-floor bedroom, fixing her ponytail.

He wished he could find out exactly what was going on in her head. He needed to know more than what these brief glimpses provided. First and foremost, had she truly been oblivious to her fiancé’s criminal activities?

Yet there were other questions he’d also love to get the answers to. Like what had she seen in Grier in the first place? Why was she doing all these renovations on her house by herself? What did she look like naked?

Caleb stifled a groan. It always seemed to come back to that, didn’t it? Marley Kincaid’s incredibly appealing body. It was the tease of watching, but not really seeing. Catching glimpses of her breasts in silhouette, but never knowing exactly what color her nipples were, never knowing how those firm mounds would feel in his palms or rubbing against his chest, pressed up to his mouth….

Jeez, AJ was right. This attraction really was getting out of hand.

“Grier will show up soon,” Caleb declared. “Whether Marley is helping him doesn’t matter. My gut tells me he’s going to come for her.”

AJ didn’t look convinced. “You know I usually have the utmost respect for an agent’s gut, but how are you so sure? I’ve read his file, Caleb, and he doesn’t form attachments. He uses people, then walks away.”

“She’s different.” Caleb’s voice grew quiet. “He never moved in with anyone before, never proposed marriage, never opened a damned joint savings account. I’m telling you, AJ, he’ll come for her.”

“He’d better,” AJ said with a trace of bitterness. “That bastard needs to pay for what he did to Russ.”

The sound of Russ’s name brought a deep ache to Caleb’s chest. He hadn’t had many friends growing up—being carted from foster home to foster home put a cramp in a guy’s social life—but Russell Delacroix had been the exception. Caleb had met Russ at a group home when he was sixteen, and the two of them developed a friendship that had thrived for years. Russ had been the one who convinced him to join the DEA, and they’d been partners for eight years.

As long as he lived, Caleb knew he’d never forget the sight of Russ’s body crumpling to the cold ground of that warehouse three months ago. Even now, the memory of Russ’s blood staining the dirty floor sent a wave of rage through Caleb’s gut.

Russ had been family, a brother. And losing him to a drug dealer had been a crushing blow.