behind her.
Josh came up to Paige and rested his hands gently on her shoulders. “You did just fine, sweetheart,” he said, his thumbs stroking along her neck in an attempt to relax her.
“I did just fine?” Her voice was shrill. She was ready for a fight, itching to vent the turbulent emotions building within her. “My God, Josh, I came face-to-face with the woman Anthony had an affair with, and the man who had him murdered!” There was no need to explain any of the conversation she’d had with Carranza-he’d heard every word from the surveillance van. “What’s to stop him from killing me, too?”
Something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes, then was gone. “All he wants is the necklace, which we’re going to make sure he confiscates so we can prosecute him. We’re right where we want to be.”
“No.” Though his gaze held understanding, his inflexible tone cut off any further objections. “He knows you have the necklace and, judging by the conversation we heard, he intends to confiscate it-with or without your cooperation. I prefer we cooperate, which means accepting his dinner invitation.”
She glared at him for long moments, wanting to argue, wanting to refuse. He stared back unflinchingly, unwilling to compromise. Protesting would be a waste of breath, she knew.
“Fine,” she said flatly, turning away from him and going to her desk. Gathering files, she stuffed them into her briefcase, her movements brusque. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long day and I’d like you to take me home.”
THE MOMENT Josh parked the car in the garage, he knew something was wrong. He sensed trouble on a gut level, but there was evidence as well to back up his intuition.
He turned to Paige as she unsnapped her seat belt and grabbed her arm before she could open her door. “I want you to stay in the car, keep the engine running, and lock the doors,” he said in as neutral a tone of voice as he could manage, so he didn’t unnecessarily frighten her. “And move over to the driver’s side once I’m out.”
Apprehension touched her tired features. “Josh, what’s wrong?”
“The house alarm. It’s been disengaged.” As he’d expected, she automatically glanced at the security keypad next to the door to confirm that the red light was out, verification the alarm had been tampered with in some way. “Stay put. I’m going inside to check things out.”
“Josh, no,” she said, panic tingeing her voice.
“I’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “But if you see anyone you don’t recognize I want you to leave, then call the police on the cell phone.”
Before she could object, he slid out of the Volvo, made sure she followed his instructions, then withdrew his gun from his shoulder holster and soundlessly made his way inside the house. The interior was shadowed with twilight, the structure eerily quiet-there was nothing to indicate an intruder lurked within the dwelling.
He flipped a light switch on the wall in the living room and swore vibrantly. The house had been ransacked. Couches were overturned, the matching cushions and throw pillows slashed open, the white fiber filling spilling out onto the floor. Cabinets and drawers had been rummaged through, their contents strewn haphazardly around the room. Pictures had been ripped off the walls, lamps had been smashed, and anything not bolted down had been upended.
Every room in the house was the same-pillaged and vandalized in someone’s quest to locate the Ivanov necklace. Of that, Josh was certain. Carranza knew Paige had the piece of jewelry, and had obviously sent his men to find it. Except it wasn’t here, as they’d no doubt discovered.
Knowing there was no possible way they could stay here tonight, he grabbed his duffel bag from Paige’s ravaged room, tossed in his personal things and her toiletries, and decided they’d stay at a hotel until the place was secured, dusted for fingerprints, and cleaned up.
His head shot up and his entire body tensed when he heard a noise from the other room. Christ, were the thugs still here? Then a low, choking noise followed-a sound that lifted the hairs at the back of his neck and turned him stone-cold.
He thought of Paige, sitting alone in the car. He thought of the possibility of one of Carranza’s men harming her, and knew they’d be dead before they realized he’d put a bullet through their heart.
Adrenaline and rage rushed through his veins as he moved silently toward the front rooms. Another indiscernible sound reached him. He rounded the last corner, his finger tight on the trigger, gun aimed and steady… right at Paige’s heart.
7
“JESUS, PAIGE, what in the
Paige glared at him, but didn’t move from where she stood by the closed, locked and chained motel room door. The raw energy and tension radiating off Josh was nearly tangible, and though she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by his grim expression or dark tone of voice, she knew better than to get near the eye of a hurricane.
Admittedly, she’d been horrified and shaken by what she’d witnessed back at her house, not to mention terrified by the way Josh had snuck up on her and confronted her with his drawn gun. Now that her shock had had time to ebb, she felt angry, completely violated, and in no mood for one of Josh’s lectures.
After that frightening ordeal in her living room over half an hour ago, Josh had promptly issued a vile string of curses, holstered his gun, and then, with a tenacious grip on her arm, had ushered her out of the house and back into the car. She’d complied with no argument; the vandalism and wreckage within her house had rendered her speechless.
He’d restrained his fury during the call he’d immediately placed to Lieutenant Reynolds on his cell phone to report the break-in and to let his senior officer know where they’d be staying for the night. He’d fumed the short distance to the motel, his jaw clenched hard, his entire body rigid. He’d even managed to control his temper when he’d arranged a room for them and she’d primly requested two double beds.
But now, he seemed hell-bent on releasing that pent-up wrath, and there was nothing she could do to escape the storm except ride it out.
“I asked you to wait in the car,” Josh went on furiously, pacing agitatedly on the strip of worn, olivegreen carpeting between the foot of the beds and the scarred dresser against the nearest wall. “Why couldn’t you obey that simple request?”
Paige bristled at his demand, and knew she had two options at this point-let the hysteria she’d so far managed to keep at bay overcome her and fall apart, or fight back. Because she knew the former would do her absolutely no good, she reached deep for resources she was just beginning to tap into-strength, resistance and fortitude-and leveled all three at Josh.
Her chin rose up a few notches. “I went into the house because it seemed like you were taking forever, and I was worried about you.” At the time, she’d been scared of being alone and that something awful would happen to Josh. She didn’t claim her actions had been smart, but they’d been instinctive, driven by helpless fears and vulnerable emotions.
“Worried about me?” His voice hit an incredulous pitch, and he abruptly stopped his edgy, back-andforth stride. “For crying out loud, Paige, I’m the one with the weapon and training, not you! What would you have done if one of Carranza’s men had attacked you while you were in the house?”
She’d thought of that-when Josh had slipped soundlessly into the living room and trained his gun at her, prepared to shoot what he’d believed was an intruder. In that moment, staring down the barrel of his pistol, her heart had stopped, and she’d experienced a sickening sense of deja vu.
Swallowing the acrid taste in her mouth, along with the equally bitter memories threatening to engulf her, she offered him the only answer-as insubstantial as it was-that came to mind. “Liz taught me some self-defense maneuvers.”
