Mason: The Sinner Saints #4 (8 page)

“Didn’t work out,” Bowie said simply.

“Oh,” Charlie said. Sara caught the high, hopeful note in her voice, but if anyone else did they kept their mouths shut. “When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago,” he said.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Charlie asked, playfully reaching up and hitting his shoulder.

“Didn’t think you’d care,” he answered.

An awkward silence filled the room. Sara might not know exactly what was going on, but she could manage a pretty good guess. One she confirmed when she glanced around to see that everyone was looking anywhere
but
at Charlie and Bowie.

“So…” Charlie said, after a long moment had passed. “You seeing anyone else?”

“Okay, Charlie,” Carter mercifully broke in. “Maybe we should get around to the matter at hand.”

“Yeah. Of course,” Charlie said, shaking her head. She glanced one last time up at Bowie before heading back to her chair. “So, Sara, those are the guys. And like Mason said, this is Sara Baumgartner—the woman who did
not
steal the Evening Star.”

“And we’re one hundred percent certain of that?” Jake’s gaze narrowed on Sara.

“We are,” Mason said, his voice firm.

“How?” Jake asked.

“Because I had eyes on her all night.”

“All night?” the pale-eyed one asked. Rhys.
Iceman
.

“Yes.” Mason tightened the muscles in his jaw as he bristled. It was obvious that he didn’t like being questioned, though Sara wasn’t sure if he thought it was his word or her honor that was under attack.

“It also doesn’t hurt that I figured out who did take it,” Charlie said.

Sara’s eyes went wide. She instantly disregarded every glowering male in the room. “You did?”

“Well, maybe that’s an overstatement,” Charlie admitted as she began to poke around on her laptop. “I don’t exactly know
who
he is, but at least now we know what he looks like.” She swiveled the computer around. “This is the guy you were following, right?”

Sara bit into her lip as she looked down at the still image. The picture was taken from a high vantage point, probably from a private security camera, and clearly showed the one angle that Sara hadn’t managed to get a good look at—the man’s face.

Not that it mattered. His dark pants and shirt might have been unremarkable, but Sara would have recognized that distinctive peacoat anywhere. Add to that his tousled, wavy blonde hair and overconfident posture, and all her doubts fell away.

This was their guy.

“It’s him,” Sara said, then looked up at Charlie. “How in the world did you find him?”

A sly smile spread across the woman’s face. “I have my ways.”

Sara felt Mason’s hand slide over the curve of her right arm as he moved in behind her. “When I sent Charlie that message last night, I let her know the route, the time and the last known location of the man you followed from the museum. All it took was a little digging through back channels to turn up some evidence.”

“Fine,” Charlie said, snapping her laptop shut. “Give all my secrets away, why don’t you?”

“You forget,” Mason added. “They’re my secrets too.”

Sara brushed aside their playful banter. There was only one thing that she was interested in.

“So, if you found this, did you figure out where he went?”

The smile faded from Charlie’s face. “Not yet. I’m sorry. This guy, he’s crafty. His disappearing skills border on magical.”

Damn it
.

Sara closed her eyes as her head fell forward.

“I did say
bordered
,” Charlie rushed to add. “He might be good, but not as good as everyone in this office. His trail hasn’t gone completely cold. I’m still working on it.”

Mason stroked his hand down the length of her arm. “These things take time, Sara.”

“I don’t have time,” she snapped.

“Yes. We do,” he said, entwining his fingers with hers. His eyes were calm and steady. Sara knew it was a common soothing technique, but damn if it didn’t work. “We have two days left.”

“Until what?” a voice from behind asked.

Mason turned toward the big guy, Bowie. “Until we hit the deadline imposed by the man who kidnapped Sara’s parents.”

“So, that’s why you were after the necklace,” Jake said. His head tilted slightly to the side, as most of the hostility drained from his expression. “It’s their ransom.”

“One part of it,” Mason said.

“What’s the other part?” Bowie asked.

“None of your concern.” The lump in Sara’s throat grew. It was one thing having some help tracking down
l’étoile
. It was another to have a room full of strangers poking their noses into her private concerns. Especially since she knew they didn’t stand a chance in hell of bringing Malcolm down. “The only thing that matters is that if he doesn’t get the necklace in two days, he will kill them.”

No matter how many times she said those words, it never got any easier. The prick of tears stung her eyes. Damn it. Not now. Not in front of these guys.

Sara dipped her head down and covered her face with her hands, as she wrestled with her emotions, desperate to get them back under control.

“Do we know the identity of the kidnapper?” she heard Bowie ask.

“Malcolm Van Zandt,” Carter chimed in. “Runs most of the West Coast art black market, and is not to be underestimated. He’s not above trying to pin his crimes on others.”

“Do we have a location on him?”

“Not yet, but we will soon,” Carter said. “Mason is working that angle, while Charlie focuses on the missing necklace.”

“Anything else we should know?”

“Apparently, there are other players after the Evening Star. At least two others that we know about. Possibly three. Right now, we can’t determine how they’ll factor into the rescue mission.”

What
?

Sara snapped her head up. Things were moving fast now. Too fast. Tears be damned. These guys had no idea what they were stumbling into.

“No. Absolutely not,” she blurted out. “There’ll be no rescue mission.”

Rhys captured her gaze. The look in his eyes went beyond piercing. It was downright surgical.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because the moment Malcolm catches wind that any of you are involved, he will come after each and every one of you,” she said. “And he won’t stop until you’re all dead, if for no other reason than to show the rest of the world what happens to anyone who thinks about crossing him.”

For a brief moment, the room was totally still. Then slowly, one by one, smug smiles began appearing on the men’s faces. Some had the grace to tuck their heads down toward their chests in an attempt to hide them; others did not.

Sara looked over at Mason. He was definitely part of the latter.

“You’ll have to forgive us, but we hear that speech a lot,” he said. “Turns out we’re a hard team to take down.”

Sara felt her blood begin to boil. It would have been one thing if they didn’t trust her word. At least that she would have understood. She was used to having to prove that she wasn’t defined by her last name. But not being taken seriously? Having her concerns dismissed so casually? Screw that.

“So were my parents,” she shot back. “So were the last half dozen crews that Malcolm is rumored to have taken out. And I say
rumored
because no bodies were ever found. They simply disappeared. Gone without a trace.”

“Sara, I know you’re concerned, but—” Mason tried.

“Stop, Mason.” She shook him off. “Just because we shared a couple of tacos and flirted a little does not mean that you know anything about me.”

“Maybe not.” His eyes narrowed, his expression turning serious in a snap. “But I had thought that saving your life would’ve earned me at least a modicum of your trust.”

“That’s funny,” she said, moving closer so they stood toe to toe. “Because I thought that being the only person in the room with a personal knowledge of Malcolm’s tactics and organization would have earned me a shred of respect.”

A long second ticked by as they faced off, fists propped on their hips. Staring the other straight in the eye. Neither of them backing down. A strange energy crackled between them. One that was so intense that, for a moment, Sara almost forgot that there were other people in the room.

Almost.

Until Jake cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should leave you two alone to…uh…work this out, while we continue the briefing somewhere else,” he said, his voice dripping with humor.

Heat rushed into Sara’s cheeks, but she refused to succumb to embarrassment. She shook her head.

“That’s not necessary,” she said, turning her back on Mason. “Though it might be hard to believe, some of us can still manage to control ourselves around your friend.”

“Glad to hear it,” Carter said. “Because I’ve decided to give you and Mason the use of my office for the day.”

“You are?” More than one person asked.

Apparently, this was some sort of big deal. Sara got the feeling that Carter Macmillan didn’t hand over control of his personal property easily.

“Safety is understandably your primary concern right now, Miss Baumgartner,” Carter continued. “And I want to assure you that it’s ours as well.”

“Then tell everyone in this room to forget what they’ve heard and send them home,” she said. “Hand over whatever information you’ve been able to dig up so far, and I’ll take it from there.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he said, with an apologetic expression. “But I can promise you that no one will make a move that might endanger anyone—your parents especially—without consulting you first.”

Sara’s back teeth ground together. Damn it. She knew she shouldn’t have even expected that much, and truth be told, she didn’t know why Carter was granting it to her. She hadn’t exactly made the greatest first impression on the guy.

On any of them, if she was being honest.

And yet, for some reason, the looks she was getting now were nowhere near as hostile as they had been.

“The rest of you, consider yourselves on alert. I’ll filter down information as it becomes available,” Carter said. “And you’ll be able to find me in Mason’s office if you need me.”

That must have been the signal that the meeting was over, because everyone silently nodded and started toward the door.

Everyone except Mason.

Sara didn’t need to turn around to know he was still there. She could physically feel his stare as strong as any touch. The column of her neck came alive. A line of tingles traced down her spine, radiating out along her limbs.

And, God help her, that was just knowing he was near.

What the hell was she going to do with herself when she was trapped in a secure room all day?

Fortunately, she was granted a reprieve when Carter stopped at his door.

“Mason. Charlie,” he called. “A word in my office. My
new
office.”

“You got it,” Mason said, his voice close behind her. So much closer than she’d realized.

She turned toward the window as he followed his boss out, watching the reflection of his broad shoulders and tight hard backside move away in the glass.

Damn. It was going to be a long day.

A really long day.

Chapter Seven

“All right you two,” Carter said the moment Mason’s office door clicked closed. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”

Mason leaned his shoulder against the wall as his old friend walked over to his desk and propped his hip against the side. Carter just stood there, his gaze flicking back and forth between Mason and Charlie, his glower growing darker with every second.

“So, neither one of you is even going to try to come up with an excuse?” he asked, sounding very much like the disappointed
Captain
that Mason knew so well.

“An excuse for what?” Charlie asked, moving away from the wall and making her way to his stainless steel chairs.

A smile cracked Mason’s lips. She was a braver soul than he. He’d learned years ago that it was better to stick close to the exit when Carter was in this kind of mood.

“How about this?” Carter said, puffing out his chest slightly as he crossed his arms. “Yesterday I signed off on a simple surveillance assignment for Verity’s museum, and this morning I walked in here to find a fugitive had broken into my office and set up shop.”

“So, she
was
able to bypass our security systems,” Charlie said. “How long did it take her?”

“Forty-two seconds,” Mason answered.

“Hot damn.” As usual, Charlie didn’t bother hiding her glee. “She is as good as I’d hoped.”

“
As you hoped
?” Carter raked a hand through his hair. “Oh, God. Please tell me you haven’t made Sara Baumgartner your current project.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Charlie said, with a far too innocent shake of her head.

“The hell you don’t,” Carter said, his brows pulling down as he leaned forward. Mason had seen sweat break out on the foreheads of military brass under the force of that particular scowl. Charlie didn’t even blink.

“I never met Sara until this morning.”

“As if that matters,” Carter growled. “I don’t know what it is with you and taking these broken birds under your wing. You did it with Verity. You did it with Tessa. Hell, even with Ally to some extent.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine who I picked that up from,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“This isn’t Charlie’s fault,” Mason piped in.

Carter’s head snapped up. “Oh, I’m aware that this isn’t
totally
her fault. That became crystal clear the moment I caught you and Miss Baumgartner getting to second base on top of my desk.”

“Dang, Mason.” Little laughter crinkles appeared around Charlie’s eyes as her mouth fell open. “When I talked about getting close to her, I was thinking more along the lines of a
my place or yours
thing. Not a
let’s do it right here on my boss’ desk
thing. Though I have to admit, that’s pretty hot.”

“Settle down,” Mason said. “He’s exaggerating. I didn’t even make it to first.”

“Though not for lack of trying, right?” Charlie said, her smile growing wider by the second. “Oh, this just keeps getting better. You’re smitten by the one woman in the world who can resist you.”

“I’m not smitten,” he said.

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s why you didn’t take your hands off her while we were all in Carter’s office.”

He didn’t? Mason’s mind whirled.

If so, he was just trying to make her feel more comfortable. Safer. Less afraid. That was all.

“Why do I get the feeling that you two are missing the point here,” Carter broke in. “We are currently harboring the prime suspect in a high-profile theft.”

“An
innocent
suspect,” Charlie added.

“Somehow I doubt that the police are going to care what we think,” Mason said.

“That’s why we need proof,” Carter said. “We need answers. And, most of all, a plan if they do come knocking on our door.”

“Unfortunately, I think the authorities are the least of our concerns,” Mason said. He drew in a deep breath and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “You should have seen the muscle these criminal organizations sent after her. They’re good. And very determined. They somehow managed to find her apartment, even though it’s registered under an alias.”

“Do you think they tracked you here?” Carter asked.

“I don’t
think
so,” he admitted. “But even if they didn’t this time, someone is bound to figure it out soon.”

“So, Sara wasn’t exaggerating?” Charlie asked.

“Not entirely,” he said. “Malcolm and his crew are impressive—just like the Russians and the South Africans—but they’re hardly invincible. I don’t think Sara really believes they are either. She just doesn’t want to see anyone else getting hurt.”

“Even if that means that she’s the one in the line of fire?” Carter asked.

“It’s an instinct that everyone in this building would understand.”

“Maybe,” Carter admitted. “But we’re trained soldiers.”

“Not all of us,” Charlie reminded them. “Sometimes you big guys forget there are other ways of fighting. I know I’d be afraid to go head to head with someone with Sara’s skills.”

Mason shot her a look. “The hell you would. Everyone knows you’re not afraid of anyone.”

“Not true,” she countered. “Why do you think I go out of my way to make friends with everyone that walks through these doors? I want them on
my
side.”

“Well, Sara is right about one thing,” Carter said, bringing them back to the topic at hand. “The longer this goes on, the more lives will be at risk.”

“We could always go the direct route,” Charlie said. “Find the necklace. Do the drop just like this Malcolm guy has asked. Have a couple of our FBI contacts waiting in the wings to swoop in once the hostages have been handed over safely.”

“It’s not a bad plan,” Carter admitted.

“No, it’s not, and on almost any other case I’d agree that it would be the way to go,” Mason said with a slow shake of his head. “But it won’t work.”

“Why not?” Charlie asked.

“Because the necklace is only the first part of the ransom,” he explained. “Malcolm has also blackmailed Sara into confessing to another crime she didn’t commit as a condition of their release. There’s no way he’ll let go of his leverage over her until she’s made it. Maybe not even then.”

“What was the crime?” Carter asked.

“She won’t tell me the specifics,” Mason admitted. “Says that I don’t need to know.”

“Shit.” The word slipped out of Charlie’s mouth. “It’s not the Kelham job that you asked me to look into last night, is it? Because if so, I’m not sure that you
do
want to know.”

“But you’re going to tell us anyway,” Carter said.

“It’s not good,” Charlie said, her trademark humor gone. “Two years ago, there was a theft at the Federal Reserve building. Nearly ten million in gold was taken from the Kelham Vault. The crew got in and out fast and relatively clean.”

“Sounds like a hell of a heist,” Carter said. “How come we’ve never heard of it?”

“Because the feds kept it under wraps,” Charlie said. “They didn’t want to expose the gaps in their security system and encourage copycats.”

“But knowing the feds, they’ve never turned down the heat on the investigation,” Mason said. “There’s no way he’ll release her parents until after her confession. Maybe not even until after the trial. That’s assuming he ever planned to let them go at all.”

“I doubt it. There was more to the Kelham job than just the theft,” Charlie said. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she turned to face him fully. “The thieves killed three guards when they entered the building that night—9mm slugs, straight to the head. Those bullet fragments were the only physical evidence that the thieves left behind.”

“And now Malcolm sees a way to pin their deaths on someone else,” Carter said.

“On Sara?” Charlie’s voice went up an octave. “No one in their right mind would believe that she’s capable of murder.”

“But she’s more than capable of pulling off the heist,” Carter said. “Once she gives them a confession, the feds won’t look any deeper than her skills and her family name for proof.”

“Why in the world would she even agree to such a thing?” Charlie asked. “She has to know it’s suicide.”

“The man has her parents. She’d do anything to get them back.
Anything
. Wouldn’t you?” Mason said, his voice coming out harsher than he wanted.

“Of course,” Charlie rushed to say.

“We’re not going to let her confess to anything,” Mason growled. He barely got the words out. His jaw felt tight, his back teeth ground together.

“Agreed,” Carter said. “But that still leaves the question of what we
are
going to do.”

Mason tilted his head down. He barely heard his friend’s words. His blood was boiling.

All he could think about was Sara. That’s why she was talking about the gas chamber last night. She’d agreed to take the fall for a capital crime—one that the feds were hot to bring someone down for hard. The second she confessed to those murders, she’d be trapped. No way they’d ever let her wriggle free.

The room had gone dead quiet. Both Charlie and Carter were staring at him. Waiting on him to set the tone.

“We go after Malcolm,” Mason said. “We take the bastard out at the knees.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Carter asked.

“Any damn way we can.”

***

Carter Macmillan knew how to pick a view. Sara had to give the man that.

She’d lost track of how long she’d been standing in the same spot, staring at the crowded vista of the business district. A half hour? A full one?

Not that it mattered. Somewhere she’d gotten lost in the sight of the city waking up below her. The streets filling up with cars. The buildings slowly illuminating one window at a time. It was beautiful in its own way.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that the sound of the door opening behind her startled her. She spun around on her heel in time to see Mason.

Thank God. A small smile curled her lips.

Funny. When did she start thinking of him that way? Not just as the least of all possible evils, but as someone that she was grateful to see.

Almost, she reminded herself.

It wasn’t just the memory of his strong arms and cute butt talking. She certainly hadn’t forgotten about their heated exchange in front of his coworkers. And she sure as hell hadn’t forgotten about the way he’d dismissed every one of her concerns. But even with all that, something about the man made her feel better when he was around.

Even when he wasn’t actively saving her life.

Maybe his constant, easy smile was finally getting to her. Maybe despite all her protests, she was finally falling for that slick con man facade.

Of course, right now, it didn’t seem as slick as all that.

He stopped just inside the door, crossed his legs and leaned his shoulders against the door after it shut. He wasn’t smiling now. He didn’t seem angry either. For the first time since Sara met him, there was an honest sadness in his expression that she had never seen before.

Had something happened? Was there news? Something that she didn’t want to know?

It didn’t take long for Sara’s nerves to get the better of her.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“Charlie just told me what happened on the Kelham job,” he said.

Sara let out a long breath. Was that all?

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked as her shoulders fell.

“No,” she answered honestly. “Though I figured you’d learn about it eventually.”

“So, why bother keeping it a secret?”

“Honestly?” she said with a nervous laugh. “I was hoping that you’d find out much later.”

Mason didn’t so much as crack a smile. If anything, the intensity of his gaze only sharpened.

“You mean after you were charged with three counts of capital murder.”

Sara’s face fell and she turned around to face the window. “Something like that,” she muttered.

She kept her focus on his reflection in the glass as he pushed off the door and started walking toward her.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I knew that you’d only try to talk me out of it,” she said. “That is what you’re trying to do now, isn’t it?”

“Do you want me to talk you out of it?” he asked.

Yes.

No.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” she said.

“It matters to me.”

Some tension seeped out of her as he stopped right behind her. There was something different about the caring light in his eyes. Something in the worried lines that creased his brow. For the first time, Sara didn’t get the feeling that he was playing her. Not entirely anyway.