Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (21 page)

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Authors: Shelley K. Wall

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance)
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Trev spoke calmly to Nate, “The camera recordings are streamed to a secured site on an FTP server.” He wrote a number on Nate’s papers and shoved it toward him. “Here’s the IP address to get to it and the password information to view the recordings. Have Cheryl or one of the guys pull them. It will prove what I’m saying, but if anyone mentions one word about anything else on those recordings, I swear I’ll make them wish they’d never seen it. Extract the part you need, nothing more.”

“No problem.” He knew Nate didn’t understand why he was getting all upset. There was no way in hell he was going to have pictures of Sophie half-dressed pinned to someone’s cubicle wall. He and Nate exchanged glances for a second. Then they both stood up.

“Can I go now?” Sophie asked. Her words were layered with anger but she hesitated to stand up — probably for fear that she’d just get pushed back into her seat once more. “Are you done with me?” Her tone seemed to imply that she wished to be rid of them. In truth, he didn’t see how she could not feel abused by the chain of events.

Trevan touched her arm. “Almost. Give us just a few more minutes.” She snatched her arm from his grasp and looked away. She focused on her hands, which she pulled in and clasped together on the table in front of her. He winced.

Nate had observed all this, probably making a mental note of what an emotional fuck-up he was. Trevan motioned with a slight movement of his head for Nate to step out so they could talk.

The two men exited.

“I’m not even going to ask exactly what happened, or what the hell that was all about,” Nate started as soon as the door shut.

“Then stop talking. I don’t want to hear it.” Trevan didn’t need anyone telling him whether it was okay or not. He wouldn’t listen, anyway. “She didn’t do the transfer and if what she’s telling us about her dad is accurate — and I’d bet my life it is — then we’ve wasted our time watching her. But the bigger question is: who did do it? I think we may have found that yesterday, but we need Cheryl’s help to be sure. We’ve wasted most of the day on this.”

“Whoever did it knows we’re watching her. That’s why they chose her.” Nate leaned against the wall. “Or, they want her out of the way
and
they know we’re watching her.”

“Good point,” Trev admitted. “ Either way, she still might not be safe.”

“Judging by what happened to Bob, I’d say there’s no doubt about it. Let’s go talk to the rest of the team and see how they want to handle this.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sophie waited in the room by herself while they validated her story. Trevan spoke with her dad personally, but then instructed Nate to confirm the call. Nice enough guy, he thought. It sounded like her mother had as much to do with his absence as he did. Whatever their issues were, Sophie was telling the truth. He knew it the minute she said it, and he hated himself for not digging further into the details on her dad. He’d left it up to Nate and under normal circumstances that would have been fine. But for the last few weeks, Nate’s head had been on his own dad. Trevan should have checked it out himself. Not once, until the bank records came in, did he think she was involved. Knowing she had this trust fund she’d refused to use just because she wanted to make it on her own made him even more amazed by her strength. And more angry at himself for not believing her completely. He was slipping. No, he was distracted.

He had to meet her dad sometime. Seemed like dad had drawn the short end of the parent stick. Still, she didn’t have anyone else and she needed to mend that fence now while there was still time to get to know him. Whether she liked it or not, he was her family … and that mattered.

He watched her pacing the room for a little while, afraid to go in and talk to her. She had looked at the glass and cussed him out. Everyone else watched, a little surprised, and then laughed. It made him mad that they thought it so funny. She hated him now and she seriously wouldn’t like having to spend the next couple of weeks with him while they finished the data analysis and hopefully made the arrests. If it lasted longer than that, she’d probably kill him or he’d get reassigned. He wasn’t sure which would be worse at this point.

An hour later, he was still sitting in the other room, watching her through the glass. He would have been amused if he didn’t really care what happened next. She was sitting with her back to the window — to him — facing the other wall. Nothing could be mistaken about the intention in that. He knew she was crying because she put her hand to her face a couple of times like she was wiping her eyes. Everyone else had grown bored and left, thankfully. He didn’t need more witnesses as he talked with her. Still, even as mad as she was, he wanted her to let him touch her. He couldn’t help it.

He stepped in the door, closing it quietly, and waited for her to face him. When she didn’t, he sat at the table. He rested one hand on the table and the other in his lap, watching the back of her head. The curls were pretty much a disaster from the stress of the day but they still framed her head nicely.

“So, Trevan Prater of Prater Ranch,” Sophie said matter of factly, her back still to him.

“Yes.”

“Do you always go to this extreme to close a case?” Her voice cracked a little at the end. He wondered if she was still crying, but she wouldn’t turn around and look at him.

“No. Come on, Soph, surely you know what was real and what wasn’t?”

“Do I?” she hissed. “How would I know that? Nothing you’ve said, nothing you’ve
done
is true.”

“Yes, some of it was. Actually, a lot of it was.” Her words cut into him like razor blades.

“You said you were a good guy. You swore it.” She hiccupped now and he knew for sure she was crying. He couldn’t stand it anymore. The chair scraped loudly on the floor as he pushed it back and moved around the table to face her.

“I was a good guy. I still am.” He knelt in front of her. Her face was red and blotchy. Mascara colored tears ran down her cheeks. He sucked at this part; he couldn’t handle crying. “Look at me.” He willed her to raise her eyes to his.

When she refused, he put his hands on her arms and shook her gently. “Henry, look at me.”

“No.” Her bottom lip was quivering. “Why would you play me like that? Do you really have to go that far to solve a case?” Her voice came in short gasps. She’d cried so much she couldn’t really string a sentence together. “Because if that’s what you do as one of the good guys, then maybe you’re not as great a guy as you think you are. What a shitty way to make a living.”

“I wasn’t playing you. I never was. I had to get you away from here to make sure that we had time to figure it out, and whoever was trying to hurt you wouldn’t be able to. I needed to keep you safe.”

“Well, you really went the extra mile on that. You must be one of the best agents they have. I bet all the criminals want to have you chasing after them, screwing them.” She was being sarcastic now, and bitter.

“Soph, you’re angry. I deserve it, but I didn’t use you to solve this case. I understand you feel that way, but — ”

“Stop it! Stop psychoanalyzing me. You don’t understand me at all.” She fumed.

“You’re right.”

She glared at him. “You are the most disgusting man I have ever met. No one I’ve ever known would have stooped so low to get a project done.” She clenched her eyes shut to stifle the tears. “I was so stupid. I thought it was real for a few minutes there. You should be really proud of yourself. You’re really a great actor.”

“I wasn’t acting; it was
real
.” He put his hand under her chin and stroked her throat. He was exhausted with all the emotional turmoil in this room. “Everything between you and me was real. It
is
real. You can pretend it isn’t if you want to, but I can’t. I know what I felt. What I feel now. And this is no act.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell that to someone who cares.” She jerked her head back from his hand.

He stared into her face. “I thought I was,” he said quietly, admitting defeat.

“Can I leave now,
Agent Prater?

“No, I’m sorry, but you can’t.” He backed away to the other side of the table and sat again.

“Why not?”

“Because until we have this guy, or guys, in custody, I’m still stuck to you like glue.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at that, but no thanks.”

“You don’t get a choice in this, Sophie. This is a federal investigation. If we think one of our star witnesses is in danger, they are put under twenty-four-hour protection.”

“So now I’m a
witness
, not a suspect?”

“That’s right.”

“Wow, that’s a relief,” she said sarcastically. “Do you also sleep with witnesses or is that only reserved for suspects you’re trying to expose?”

Trevan clenched his jaw. “I’m a little more selective than that, whether you believe it or not. I’ll be back in a few minutes, then we’ll go.”

“Where are you going to lock me up now?”

“We’re going back to the ranch, until all the analysis is finished and it’s safe for you to come back.” He rose and walked out of the room, leaving her alone.

• • •

By mid-afternoon on Monday, Sophie and Trevan were once again hurtling east on Interstate 10 toward Fredericksburg. They’d stopped at her apartment, collected more clothes and her mail, and then got back on the road. Sophie sat still and silent in the passenger seat. The look on her face plainly told him to keep his mouth shut, so he had some nineties rock music blaring on his Sirius radio.

The music was interrupted by a load
brrring
and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Trevan hit the answer button on his hands-free phone. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello Trev, how’s your day going?”

“Not too bad for a Monday. Everything going okay for you guys?”

“Sure. Sure. Hey, we dropped by the old ranch house this morning and saw you’d been there.”

Trev looked sideways at Sophie and rolled his eyes. She wasn’t going to like this, either. “Mom, you know you watched the house and you saw me there. I saw Dad on the back porch Saturday.”

Sophie’s eyes darted to his face and he knew she was just getting more frustrated as he spoke. How was he supposed to tell her his dad was the old man with the telescope? He held up his hand to stop an imminent explosion.

“Now, why would we watch the house?” the voice on the phone questioned sweetly.

“Because you knew I was there and you were checking up on me, weren’t you?”

The voice on the other side capitulated. “Okay, okay. Yes, we wanted to make sure you were okay.” There was a small pause, then: “Who’s the girl?”

Trev laughed. They had gone from pretending they didn’t know to getting in his business in about two seconds.

“Her name is Sophie and she’s sitting right here, Mom.” He sent a warm look at Sophie, only to get a scowl in return.

“Oh, uh. Hi, Sophie, nice to talk to you,” she said pleasantly.

“Nice to talk with you, too, Mrs. Prater.” He was glad she didn’t continue the silent treatment on the phone.

“So, are you two still in town or headed back to Houston?”

“We’re in between right now,” Trevan admitted, “but we’ll back at the ranch in a few hours. We’ll turn off the interstate in about fifteen minutes. We had to take care of some work stuff this morning.”

“Good. Then come by for dinner at seven. Your dad’s barbecuing and we want to meet your girlfriend.”

Trevan started to protest when Sophie shot him another deadly scowl but the phone on the other side went dead before he could say anything. He hated the way they did that when they thought he’d refuse. They made the demand, then gave him no chance to respond.

“Your parents? Your
parents
live on the hill?” She raised an eyebrow at him, her voice getting a little too loud.

“Yeah, I took the old ranch house when they built their new place up there. Their place is a lot nicer and has a fantastic view. Unfortunately, that view includes my backyard.” He looked at her with a sheepish half grin. “Sorry, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Jeez, could this possibly get any worse? Are there going to be naked pictures of me posted on the Internet next?”

Trev laughed out loud at that. “No, only half-naked ones. Just kidding. That won’t happen — not that I know of. But, that hero-worshipping thing you were trying to help with? Well, I think it worked.” He saw her try to hide a smile as she looked out the window. He thought for the first time since they’d interrogated her that maybe things would work out okay.

The silence stretched between them for five minutes but it felt a lot longer. “Sophie, have you ever ridden a horse?”

“Not since I was ten and that was just a pony tied to one of those leads. Why do you ask?” She looked at him, curious.

“We usually take the horses between the two houses. There’s a real nice trail up the hill.” He waited for her to make some sort of wisecrack about cowboys and horses but she didn’t.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“No problem.” He was glad. “You’ll ride with me.”

“I didn’t see any horses when we were there.”

“You weren’t looking.”

“But I don’t really want to.”

“You’ll go,” he stated flatly.

• • •

At six-thirty that evening, Trevor lifted Sophie onto his horse, Blackie, then pulled himself up behind her. Blackie was the biggest of their horses, a sturdy pulling horse, and would have no problem hauling the two of them up the hill. Sophie had argued with him about going. She had no desire to meet his parents. He insisted and she refused again. In the end, he gave her a choice, walk or ride. There was no staying behind.

“You call him Blackie?” she asked nervously as she held onto the saddle horn. Trevan’s arms rested gently around her, holding the reins.

“Yep. We also have a solid white horse called Whitey and we used to have a solid brown mare … guess what her name was?” He teased.

“Let me guess, Brownie?”

“Yeah, real original, huh? She died three years ago.”

“So if you have a paint horse, are you going to call it Spot?”

“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what we did.” He grinned in her hair and she chuckled.

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