The Betrayal (14 page)

With renewed energy, he strode with purpose to the kitchen and picked up his phone from where he’d left it on the counter. Scrolling through his contacts, he found her number and listened as it dialed out.

* * *

Chloe stood right inside the doorway and glanced around the dimly lit bar, trying to quell the nerves in her stomach. Although it wasn’t the usual place she chose to hang out, with its dated interior and pervasive smell of stale alcohol, it wasn’t hard to guess why Declan had suggested it.

The clientele were few. A couple of men with grizzled cheeks and graying hair were deep in conversation at the far end of the bar. The only other occupant was an older woman with heavy makeup and deep wrinkles around her mouth that told the story of a chronic smoker. She sat alone at one of the scarred wooden tables scattered around the room, a half empty glass by her elbow.

Although Chloe had never been there before, the bar wasn’t far from her apartment and the short drive hadn’t given her nearly enough time to fully think through her actions.

Why had she agreed to meet him?
It was nearly ten-thirty at night. She should be home in bed going over her notes for the witnesses due to appear at the committal hearing in the morning, not meeting with the defendant…

Had she totally lost her mind?

She cursed Savannah under her breath. Meeting with Declan was wrong on so many levels. She shouldn’t have accepted his invitation, despite Savannah’s encouragement and Chloe’s misgivings about Stanford’s evidence. Halting mid-stride, she turned on her heel to leave.

Pushing open the door she’d just entered through, she glimpsed the back of a cab, its taillights receding in the distance. She tugged out her car keys and swung around, intending to head back to her Honda. She gasped when she ran into a hard, hot wall of male.

“Going somewhere?”

Chloe jumped back as if she’d been scalded. His hands reached for her arms and steadied her.

“Whoa! I didn’t mean to startle you.” He offered her a quick grin.

Heat seared her cheeks. Flustered, she looked anywhere but at his face. If it were possible, he looked even more delectable in his casual white T-shirt and jeans than he had in his formal suit and tie. The stretchy fabric of his shirt hugged the impressive expanse of his chest and she was sure she could still feel the warmth of his fingers where they’d touched her.

“I’m sorry, I-I was just leaving. This isn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t have agreed to come.”

“And yet you’re here.”

When she turned to face him, his gaze captured hers and wouldn’t let it go. Her heart thumped crazily. She swallowed, and tried to speak.

“Declan, look… I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s not right.”

“Stanford’s lying.
That’s
what isn’t right.”

CHAPTER 13

Chloe stared at Declan and bit her lip—torn. Stanford
was
lying, at least about part of what he’d said. It stood to reason if he’d lied about one thing, he might have lied about others. He might even have lied about it all. He’d agreed he had regular access to Declan’s apartment. It was possible he’d also accessed the laptop. She didn’t know and the confusion and uncertainty of all this was driving her crazy.

On top of all that, she wanted to believe the man who stood in front of her, looking more scrumptious than any man had a right to look. When he called, she’d been shocked. It was like he had ESP. From the time she’d ended her call to Savannah, she’d vacillated about calling him and there he was, on the other end of the phone. It was more than a little surreal.

She’d barely given herself time to brush her hair and throw on some makeup—so much was her haste to meet with him. Despite the lateness of the hour, she still hadn’t changed from the suit she’d worn to court.

He continued to hold her gaze, his eyes encouraging her to stay. Knowing if she left now she might never get to the bottom of it, Chloe nodded and followed him inside. Declan headed toward the bar.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

Chloe eyed the barman whose overgrown hair and ragged black T-shirt had seen better days and knew instinctively that ordering a margarita was probably something best not done here. She looked back at Declan.

“I’ll have a beer, thanks,” she said.

One dark eyebrow lifted in surprise. “You don’t look like the kind of girl that drinks beer.”

She shrugged. “What does a girl that drinks beer look like?”

His gaze held hers for a significant moment before sliding down her very sensible pale-pink blouse and even more sensible tailored suit, which now looked more than a little rumpled. Despite everything, heat followed in the wake of his gaze, tingling her nerve endings.

“Not as prim and proper as you, that’s for sure.”

She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted, but the teasing gleam in his eyes cooled her indignation.

“Looks can be deceiving,” she murmured, shocking herself. Was she actually
flirting
with him?

His eyes flared with some indefinable emotion and Chloe’s stomach somersaulted. God, she was so out of her league.
He
was out of her league. Girls like her didn’t get to go out with guys who looked like they’d stepped out of the pages of
GQ
. Boys who looked like that were the exclusive property of the cheerleaders, the popular girls, the girls with bodies to die for and hair to match. Not short, shy Italian girls with hair that could only be controlled by a decent drenching—and even then it was a struggle.

In an effort to restore the conversation to a level she could handle, Chloe forced her pulse to slow and cleared her throat.

“I’m actually more of a margarita girl, but I thought I might offend the barman’s sensibilities if I asked for one.”

Declan looked around at their surroundings and grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about the venue. I’m trying to fly under the radar. I passed a handful of reporters and a couple of photographers outside my apartment this afternoon. They were yelling out at me about the hearing.” He shook his head. “It’s already started.”

Chloe felt a pang of sympathy, mixed with a fair dose of guilt. “I understand.” She shrugged. “This place is fine.”

Their drinks arrived in frosted glasses. Declan slid some money over the bar and Chloe murmured her thanks. Collecting their beers, Declan turned and headed in the direction of one of the abandoned tables in the dimmest part of the room.

“We can talk over here,” he said and pulled out a chair for her.

Warmth seeped through her at his chivalry. For all her hard-fought independence, there was something inside her that still appreciated that kind of attention from a man. She reached for one of the glasses and took a sip from it. It was yeasty and cold. The froth stuck to her lip and she licked it off.

Declan’s gaze followed the movement. Even in the dimness, when she glanced up she saw the flare of awareness in his eyes. Desire kindled low in her belly. She gritted her teeth against it; now wasn’t the time to let her hormones dictate her actions. A man’s life and career was at stake.

And that man sat across from her.

Declan seemed to come to the same conclusion. He shook his head and his forehead creased in a frown.

“You must know Stanford’s lying. I read his statement. There was nothing in it about a visit to the park.” He shook his head in disgust, as if still unable to believe it. “I don’t get it. Why haven’t you called off the dogs?”

“How do you know I haven’t?” she challenged.

“Because I wouldn’t have had half a dozen media personnel ready to ambush me outside my apartment the minute I stepped outside, if you had.”

Chloe’s shoulders slumped and she gave it up, unsure why she’d felt the need to challenge him in the first place. The truth was, apart from her efforts to talk her concerns over with Webber and her telephone call to Savannah, she’d done nothing more than toss arguments back and forth in her head ever since she’d heard Stanford’s evidence at the hearing.

“What do
you
make of Stanford’s evidence?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she’d spoken aloud. And no wonder; the question had been at the forefront of her thoughts all afternoon.

Declan’s lips compressed. “I don’t know how to explain it and for the life of me, I can’t come up with a reason why Charlie would lie—about everything. That’s the problem.” He stared at her, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “All I know is that I didn’t do it.”

“What does he have to gain?”

“Nothing.” Declan shook his head helplessly. “It’s what makes this whole thing so unbelievable.”

Chloe leaned forward and took another sip of beer. “He’s the same rank as you, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He’s been an agent a few years longer, but we’re the same rank.”

“Has that caused friction?”

“No!” He’s been a good mate from the day I started. I’d have trusted him with my life. It just goes to show how wrong I was.”

“Perhaps he thinks you did it? Perhaps someone else is loading the gun and using him to fire the bullets?”

“But why would he lie about me being at the park? There’s no way in the world it happened and yet he says he was with me.” Declan ran his hands through his hair, his frustration evident. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Chloe nodded thoughtfully. She knew exactly how he felt. Well, probably not
exactly
. After all, it wasn’t her reputation and freedom on the line. But there’d been times in her life when she’d known the same sense of bewilderment that now emanated from him in almost-palpable waves.

“Let’s think about it. As far as I see it, everything revolves around your login details. Somehow, he’s gotten hold of them.”

“But how?” Declan exploded. “The username was issued to me when I commenced my employment with the AFP. I chose the password. I gave them out to no one.”

“So the only possible explanation is that someone stole them. Let’s back up a minute. What department issued the username?”

Declan shrugged and sat back against his chair. “Human Resources, as far as I know. That’s what I was told at my induction.”

“And what about your password?”

“I was asked to provide one at the induction. Someone from HR spoke with the newcomers. We all filled in a mountain of paperwork, had photos taken for our ID’s, provided tax file numbers, bank accounts, superannuation details and a bunch of other stuff…and then we were asked to come up with a password to use for computer access.”

Nervous excitement tightened Chloe’s stomach. “How did you provide your password?”

Declan looked momentarily confused.

“Did you give it verbally or were you asked to write it down?”

“We were asked to write it down,” he said slowly, comprehension dawning.

“See!” Chloe grinned. “Someone else knew the procedure. I bet it’s still stored in your personnel file, along with all the other forms you filled in. It’s not too great a stretch to imagine someone accessed that file and discovered your login details.”

“But who? And more importantly, why? As far as I know, I’ve done a darned good job since I started. I’ve had my fair share of successes and was well on the way to a promotion. In fact, Gary Julian encouraged me to apply for the team leader’s position that’s about to be advertised.”

Chloe sat forward. “Did Charlie Stanford know you wanted to be a team leader?”

“Of course. He was one of the first people I told.”

“And how did he react?”

Declan shrugged. “Like you’d expect. He offered me congratulations and agreed that I’d make a great team leader.”

“And that was it? You didn’t sense any undertones?”

“No. It’s like I told you before, I can’t, for the life of me, fathom why he’d say those things about me when he knew they were just plain false. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe he was hoping the additional evidence would put you away that much quicker,” she responded dryly.

Declan took a healthy swallow of his beer and then set the glass down. Chloe tried not to notice how strong and masculine his hand was or remember how his fingers felt, firm and warm around her arms when she’d stumbled into him outside. She took another gulp from her beer.

“You
are
a beer girl,” he teased, a grin tilting the side of his mouth upwards.

Heat rushed through her and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She was inordinately grateful for the room’s lack of lighting.

Declan’s smile faded and his expression turned serious. “All of these questions you’re asking—does this mean you believe me when I tell you I didn’t access those files?”

His gaze searched hers. She saw the uncertainty that warred with hope in their green-flecked depths. She nodded, her eyes not leaving his.

“Yes, I believe you. I think I always have, but the evidence dictated otherwise. In the end, I took the only way out I knew. I chose to have the system do its work and let the courts decide.”

“What a perfect world you live in,” he mused.

Chloe shrugged. “Perfect or not, it’s my world. I’m an IA investigator. I have to believe, above all else, that justice will be served and that the truth will prevail.”

Declan’s lips twisted in a grimace. “I wish I could be so idealistic.”

Irritation surged through her and she sat up straighter in her chair. “Don’t patronize me, Agent Munro. I don’t know what happened to make you so cynical, but don’t foist your preconceived notions on me. You know nothing about me.”

“I was referring to my own experience. But you’re right, I don’t know much about you. We could change that,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her lips.

Chloe gasped at the heat in his eyes and tried not to let it affect her. She might as well have tried stopping a tsunami.

Desire ignited a path of need deep inside her and she was reminded of how long it had been since she’d been intimate with a man. She could barely remember the details, but the wanting was still the same. It hadn’t changed.

Declan must have seen something in her eyes, or maybe he heard the tiny whimper of need that escaped her parched lips? Either way, her hand was suddenly engulfed inside the warmth of his.