“Hold on.” Tori grabbed his elbow and brought him around to face her. “What are you getting at? That the kidnapping is some kind of hoax?”

“I’m not getting at anything.” He yanked his arm free of her grip and wrapped his fingers around her arm instead. “But I’m gonna be on you like white on rice. If you hear from your pal Honor, you’d do well to let me know.”

She hiked her chin up in defiance of the implied threat. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll hurt you, Tori, and I bullshit you not. You may be rich now, but you got that way by selling your pussy to the highest bidder. One dead tramp would be no great loss to the world.”

Chapter 19

Son of a bitch!”

Coburn hissed the profanity under his breath out of deference to the kid. As for her mother, who’d already frowned at him for a slipped bullshit earlier, she was now staring at him as though a horn had grown from the center of his forehead.

He waggled the cell phone. “I guess you heard that.”

“That Agent Lee Coburn has been dead for over a year? Yes, I heard that.”

“Obviously she hasn’t got her facts straight.”

“Or I bought into your lies and now I’m—”

“Look,” he said, angrily cutting her off. “I didn’t ask for you either, okay? You want to go back to your house, take your chances with Doral Hawkins and anybody else who’s in The Bookkeeper’s pocket? Fine. Go. I’ll hold the door open for you.”

It wasn’t fine, of course, and he wouldn’t let her go even if she chose to. On her own, she wouldn’t live long. He’d been described as cold and heartless, and the adjectives fit. But even he would be uncomfortable sending a woman and four-year-old to certain death. Besides, she would be useful, now and later, toward building a case against The Bookkeeper. She probably knew a whole lot more than she was aware of. Until he’d wrung every last ounce of information from her, she stayed with him.

On the other hand, she and the kid were going to be a major pain in the ass.

He hadn’t counted on having to take care of anybody but himself until Hamilton could bring him in, and that was going to be dangerous enough, what with every gun-wielding yahoo within a hundred miles believing him to be a killer and kidnapper. He’d more or less resigned himself to not making it out of this intact, if he lived through it at all.

But now he was responsible for Honor and Emily Gillette, and with that responsibility came the commitment to seeing that they survived even if he didn’t.

Essentially taking back his offer to let her go, he said, “Whether you know it or not, you hold the key that will bust open The Bookkeeper’s crime ring.”

“For the umpteenth time—”

“You’ve got it. We just have to figure out what it is and where to find it.”

“Then drive me to the nearest FBI office and escort me in. We’ll all look for it together.”

“I can’t.”

“Because?”

“Because I can’t blow my cover. Not yet. Right now Hawkins and The Bookkeeper think that I’m just the freight dock worker who was lucky enough to get away. An eyewitness to the mass murder. Which is bad. But not nearly as bad as an eyewitness who’s also an undercover federal agent. If they discover that, the target on my back gets bigger.”

“But the FBI would protect you.”

“Like Officer Fred Hawkins of the Tambour P.D. was going to protect you?”

He didn’t have to spell it out. She connected the dots. “The Bookkeeper has local FBI agents on his payroll?”

“I’m not willing to bet my life against it, are you?” He gave her time to answer. She didn’t, which was as good as her saying, No, I’m not. “You wouldn’t be sitting there if you didn’t believe at least some of what I’ve told you.”

“I’m sitting here because I believe that if you’d intended to hurt us, you would have done so as soon as you arrived yesterday. Also, if everything you’ve told me is true, then our lives, mine and Emily’s, are in danger.”

“You’re right so far.”

“But the main reason I came with you has to do with Eddie.”

“What about him?”

“You’ve raised two questions that I want answered. One, was his death really an accident?”

“It was made to look like it, but I don’t think it was.”

“I have to know,” she said with feeling. “If he died of an accident, that’s one thing. Tragic, but acceptable. Fate. God’s will. Whatever. But if someone caused the crash that killed him, I want them punished for it.”

“Fair enough. What’s the second question?”

“Was Eddie a bad cop or a good cop? I know the answer to that one. I want you convinced of it, too.”

“I don’t care one way or the other,” he said, meaning it. “He’s dead. All I care about is identifying The Bookkeeper and putting him out of business. The rest of it, including your dead husband’s reputation, makes no difference to me.”

“Well, it makes a huge difference to me. And it will to Stan.” She gestured to the cell phone still in his hand. “I should call him, tell him we’re okay.”

He shook his head and pocketed the phone.

“He’ll be beside himself when we turn up missing.”

“I’m sure he will be.”

“He’ll fear the worst.”

“That you’re at the mercy of a killer.”

“He won’t know otherwise. So, please—”

“No.”

“That’s cruel.”

“So’s life. You can’t call him. I don’t trust him.”

“You mistrust on principle.”

“Now you’re catching on.”

“But you trust me.”

He looked at her askance. “What gave you that idea?”

“To have dragged me along with you, you must trust me to some extent.”

“Not as far as I can throw you. Probably even less than you trust me. But, like it or not, we’re dependent on each other.”

“How is that?”

“You need my protection to survive. I need you in order to get what I came after.”

“I’ve told you repeatedly—”

“I know what you’ve told me, but—”

“Mommy?”

The kid’s voice interrupted him. Honor dragged her vexed gaze off him and looked back at her daughter. “What, sweetheart?”

“Are you mad?”

Honor reached over the car seat and patted Emily’s knee. “No, I’m not mad.”

“Is Coburn mad?”

Hearing the kid say his name caused his gut to clench. He’d never heard his name spoken in a child’s voice. It sounded different.

Honor pasted on a smile and lied through her teeth. “No, he’s not mad either.”

“He looks mad.”

“He’s not. He’s just… just…”

He did his earnest best not to look angry. “I’m not mad.”

The kid didn’t buy it. Not entirely, but she switched subjects. “I have to tinkle.”

Honor looked at Coburn, a silent question in her expression. He shrugged. “If she’s gotta go, she’s gotta go.”

“Can we drive to a gas station? I could take her—”

“Un-huh. She can go in the bushes.”

Honor debated it for about fifteen seconds, then was prompted with a plaintive “Mom-mee.” She opened the car door and got out. As she helped Emily from the backseat, she told her that they were going to have an adventure and led her by the hand to the rear of the car.

Coburn heard nothing more except a few conspiratorial whispers. Emily giggled once. He tried to block out the practical implications of a female having to pee in the great outdoors and instead to concentrate on more pressing problems. Like deciding what to do next. As Honor had said, they couldn’t keep driving around in a stolen car.

So where could they go? Not to his place. It was sure to be staked out. He didn’t trust Stan Gillette to safeguard them. He was in thick with the Hawkins brothers, so chances were good he was crooked. Honor was certain of his love and loyalty to her and Emily, but Coburn wasn’t ready to accept that, not without seeing evidence of it for himself. Gillette could also be a law-abiding former Marine who would feel honor-bound to notify the authorities immediately. In which case he still had to be rejected.