Secret Sins Page 13

  Leaning back in his chair he watched as the slender, doe-eyed young woman opened the office door and stepped inside with a large coffee tray.

  Madge had spent five years in Atlanta, Georgia, working for an upscale designer, modeling the clothes they made.

  She had instead elected to stay in Sweetrock to look after her parents while her brothers and sisters ran around the globe and had fun rather than continuing in the career she had chosen.

  Her father had begun developing Alzheimer’s the year before, and her mother had only recently had a stroke.

  If Madge was bitter about the choice, she never showed it. No matter where Archer saw her, or how bad her day might have been in dealing with him, she still seemed to keep her cool.

  Setting the tray on the corner of his desk, she gave the obviously uncompleted stack of files a hard look before turning her attention back to him.

  Archer narrowed his gaze on her. “Two hundred years ago you would have been burned at the stake as a witch,” he informed her.

  “Not hardly, sugar,” she drawled. “Especially if the judge’s files were in the same shape yours are.”

  He had to give her that one. No doubt Madge would have survived when many others went up in flames.

  Waiting until she poured the coffee and sliced the bread into small, thin slices, Archer took the opportunity to watch Wayne from the corner of his eye.

  The other man couldn’t take his eyes off Madge’s legs, encased in silk hosiery and black heels.

  Setting Archer’s cup and saucer in front of him, Madge then turned and placed Wayne’s at the end of the desk.

  “Hold my calls until we’re finished, Madge,” he told her as she finished.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she promised as she turned and walked gracefully from the room before closing the door behind her.

  Archer enjoyed the slice of bread, small though it was, and sipped at his coffee as he gave the other man a chance to do the same.

  “Why do I think I was privileged to a slice of that heavenly bread because it was the only way to get your own?” Wayne asked ruefully as he finished it, then brushed any possible crumbs from his gray slacks.

  Archer chuckled. “She’s a slave driver.”

  “She reminds me of Amelia before I forced her home and took something very important from her.” Wayne sighed. “She’s not been the same since,” he lamented again.

  Archer had to admit Amelia had changed over the past few years.

  “Where is Amelia?” he asked the other man. “Anna was worried about her. She hasn’t answered her calls since Anna returned to Corbin County.”

  Wayne sighed, shaking his head. “I talked to her last night, but getting her to answer the phone isn’t always easy. I keep telling her she’s going to have to pull out of this slump, but—” He shrugged helplessly as he lifted his gaze to the window behind Archer. “Hell, she stopped confiding in me a long time ago.”

  “When you talk to her again, would you let her know Anna’s worried?”

  Wayne nodded. “I’ll make sure she calls, Archer. Anna’s one of the few friends Amelia has left. I’d hate to see anything happen to destroy that friendship.”

  Archer rather doubted it was that imperative, but he didn’t tell Wayne. Sometimes, Archer had the feeling that the other man manipulated his daughter far more than anyone suspected. Wayne just wasn’t the type to beat her as far as he knew.

  “So, then.” Archer leaned back in his chair, putting his arms on the padded rests at the side. “What can I do to help you?”

  Wayne’s eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “Straight to the point. I liked that about you, Sheriff.”

  Archer glanced at the files. “Reports. Or someone might have to arrest Madge for shooting me.”

  Wayne glanced back at the smoked glass before giving a light laugh in response. That amusement dissipated quickly though, leaving Wayne’s expression to tighten in displeasure instead.

  “I just left another meeting with the chief of the state police and our esteemed governor. I believe there may well be chew marks on my ass, Archer. They ripped me up one side and back down the other.”

  Archer grimaced in frustration. “Go ahead,” he snorted in frustration. “Kick me while I’m already down.”

  There was no smugness in Wayne’s expression or in his gaze now. There was only disgust and a glimmer of impatience.

  “Ms. O’Brien’s foster father, our governor, isn’t in the least happy that it’s taking so long to find his foster daughter’s attacker,” Wayne bit out furiously. “They stopped by my office to give us a few ultimatums. Ones our mayor seems to agree with completely.”

  Archer wasn’t in the least concerned with the mayor, but he cared about as much for official ultimatums as Wayne did. Besides, this seemed a little fast since the last ultimatum Wayne had been given.

  Hell, this day wasn’t turning out to be one of his better ones.

  “Such as?” He was beginning to think Wayne was going to make him beg for the information.

  The other man’s nostrils flared, his dirt-brown eyes glaring in remembered ire. “They reminded me that if another victim is found, or another comes up missing, then the state police will be given the investigation immediately, while the FBI will handle local questioning and continued profiling. We have six weeks to find and arrest the Slasher, or the investigation will be taken from us immediately. And you know what that means, Archer.”

  Nothing could foul this situation up worse now.

  “Hell,” Archer cursed. “We don’t need this.”

  “I believe I may have expressed the same sentiment myself,” Wayne assured him before finishing his coffee and setting the cup back on the tray. “How would you like to handle this, then? There has to be some way figure out who the hell the Slasher is, Archer, and whether or not he does indeed have a partner.” Wayne had never believed it was a team, but rather a series of copycats.

  Wayne’s lips tightened when Archer sighed wearily. Hell, the man didn’t have the patience of a two-year-old.

  “How, then, are we going to proceed?” The same question repackaged.

  Lifting his brow mockingly Archer said, “Well, Wayne, if you have an idea how to proceed that I haven’t yet used, then let’s hear it.”

  He was getting damned tired of the demand for results and the lack of cooperation in the case.

  Wayne sighed heavily. “There was no offense intended, Archer,” he promised. “The thought of Sweetrock under siege by the FBI and state police makes my skin crawl, though. They haven’t lived through this, nor have they seen what we’ve seen.”

  And wasn’t that the damned truth.

  “Agreed.” Archer rubbed at the back of his neck as he leaned forward and stared at the files he’d shoved to the side of his desk.

  Lifting his gaze once again to Wayne’s, he breathed out roughly. “Let me think about this—”

  “And let you contact the Callahans and see how they want to proceed?” Wayne’s jaw tensed, a muscle jumping at the side of his face as his brown eyes grew cool and filled with disdain. “Is this your investigation or the Callahans’?”

  Archer forced a hard, cold smile to his lips. “Why don’t I give it to the Callahans and we’ll see if a difference can be seen.”

  The whole damned County would see a difference then.

  “What about Anna?” Wayne’s demeanor shifted to one of concern. “The whole County is buzzing. The maids were on the phone within seconds of her leaving to spread the word that Corbin had thrown her out.” He shook his head with a grimace. “That son of a bitch sure as hell knows how to destroy a kid, doesn’t he?”

  “She’s dealing with it, just not easily.” Archer shrugged with a heavy sigh.

  Damn, he was glad he had learned how to lie in the military.

  “Poor kid.” Wayne rose to his feet with a heavy sigh. “I’d better return to my own paperwork.” He nodded to Archer’s files. “I’d like to meet with you and
the deputies you have working the case tomorrow, though. We have to figure this Slasher thing out, Archer. And we don’t have a lot of time to do it in.”

  “Set it up with Madge,” Archer told him. “And I’ll see you then.” Unless he could get out of it.

  Archer had no intentions of sharing any more information with anyone that he didn’t have to.

  Archer had learned by watching his father, and listening to him discuss the case, to trust only the few proven to be trustworthy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the county attorney. Hell, Wayne had as many hours on this as anyone did, but still, the less said about some things, the better. Especially with a man Archer’s father had identified as a suspect years before.

  Rising to his feet, he walked across the office to the set of wide, old-fashioned windows that looked out on the back lawn where the sheriff’s department and courthouse employees took their lunch.

  Propping his hands on his hips he stared out at one of the shaded benches that sat next to an ornate cement fountain.

  He had no doubt about the direction he was following in the investigation. He’d already begun a more extensive search into his deputy John Caine’s background, but he was coming up with several dead ends. For a period of five years the man hadn’t existed. Not surprisingly, that period coincided with the summer the Slasher had first struck, twelve years before.

  Striding back to his desk and taking his seat, Archer pulled his cell phone from the side of the desk and made a call. He hadn’t wanted to make this call, but he was out of options.

  “Hello,” Ryan Calvert answered. The child Eileen Callahan had sold to save her husband and her ranch was a man now. A man with a cause, and that cause was centered in Corbin County.

  “Are you ready?” Archer asked.

  “As I’ve ever been.” His voice was slow and easy. “We meeting at your place?”

  “The study,” Archer agreed.

  “Give me three,” Ryan replied. “And I’ll be bringing a friend. The boys have been working on this for several years now, so don’t worry. Once you meet him, you’ll understand why I trust him.”

  Ryan knew Archer’s secrecy issues well, just as Archer knew Ryan’s. He’d meet the other man, but that was all he was promising.

  “If I’m not in the study, I’ll know you’re there,” Archer promised. “It might take a minute to get there.”

  “Let’s rock and roll, then,” Ryan said.

  “As long as we’re the rock.” Archer sighed, hoping—praying—he had this figured out. “As long as we’re the rock.”

  *

  The newly renovated building that now housed the main offices of Brute Force Security no doubt had the classiest interior of any office in the County.

  Anna felt a sense of pride that morning as she stepped inside the tastefully furnished reception area with the sleek, curved receptionist’s post that drew the eye rather than the security guard’s matching post in a far corner of the room.

  The computerized wonderland that each sleek electronic top held, hidden behind the raised front panel that greeted guests, was a technological marvel as far as Anna was concerned. And it was completely unlike anything she’d seen in some of the more high-tech offices in New York and California.

  The fact that her cousins—well, only Crowe was actually her cousin, but she liked to claim all three of them—were part owners of the business was the source of that pride.

  They’d been disowned, fought a legal battle for more than a decade for what was rightfully theirs, and they were now using that inheritance to create something, rather than simply living from it.

  Not that any of them would accept it if they knew that was what she felt.

  Moving along the plushly carpeted hall of the upper-floor offices, Anna carried the electronic pad used to transfer documents and record signatures between offices. Until the new interoffice network and encrypted e-mail system was online and tested, Crowe and his partner, Ivan Resnova, had ordered that the electronic pads be used instead.

  Anna loved them.

  Stopping at the heavy, dark oak door to the large meeting room, she wiped first one hand, then the other, down the side of her skirt before knocking firmly.

  “Enter,” Crowe called out, his dark, brooding voice bringing to mind the boogie man naughty children were frightened of.

  She almost grinned at the image before opening the door and stepping inside.

  And there was Archer. As well as the two Callahan cousins she’d believed had left earlier, the Resnovas and Archer.

  Anna almost paused before closing the door. She tried to ignore Archer as she stepped to the long, oval, dark walnut table where Crowe, Ivan Resnova, and Mikhail Resnova, as well as four of the security agents employed by Brute Force, sat.

  “The employment agreements you requested, Mr. Callahan,” she stated, placing the electronic pad on the table beside him.

  “Thank you, Ms. Corbin.” He accepted the pad but didn’t glance at it. “Would you have a seat now?”

  “Excuse me?” The soft command made her pause.

  “The chair beside Archer.” He indicated the empty chair.

  Anna narrowed her gaze at the top of Crowe’s head. He didn’t even bother to look up at her.

  “Why?”

  She was pretty certain it was Archer snickering, but she didn’t give him the benefit of so much as a glance.

  Crowe did turn his head and glance up at her then.

  Slowly, he pushed his chair back and moved to rise.

  “Don’t make a mistake I’ll help you regret, Crowe,” Archer warned him, his tone suddenly dark.

  Crowe slid his gaze to Archer as he planted his hands on the table before his eyes zoomed back to her. Like the wolf it was rumored he lived with, even more predatory, more intent than Archer’s, his eyes sliced into her.

  “Because, cousin, I thought you might like to have an opinion where your protection’s concerned in the coming weeks. I have a feeling Archer’s wrong about your ability to handle the truth. Perhaps I should have just put bodyguards on you and left you in the dark where they were concerned. I have no doubt they’re good enough that you would never know they were there.”

  Her protection?

  She glanced at Archer, inhaling sharply rather than blasting him with a scathing retort, before she turned back to Crowe.

  “You can shove your protection, cousin.” She didn’t have to hold back with Crowe. “I’ve lived for twenty-four years without your help, and I can live without it just fine for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

  But she knew that look on his face. She could protest until hell froze over and he would still do whatever the hell he pleased.

  “Anna, please sit down.” Archer’s request was a careful, thinly cloaked warning in an order that pretended to be a request.

  She might hate men.

  Anna sat down slowly, watching as Crowe took his seat once again.

  “You may remember seeing Thaddock, Stryker, and Brolen around town,” he introduced three of the men she had seen. “The fourth is new to Brute Force, but he comes from an exceptional family with excellent references.” He nodded to a handsome younger man. “This is Rory Malone, from Texas. He’ll be the one ensuring the other three aren’t glimpsed. He has no security background, but he’s from a well-respected security family.”

  Anna stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before smiling. “You’re Sabella Malone’s brother-in-law. You came to Edgemoore Girls’ School with her when she gave her class on basic auto mechanics.”

  It hadn’t been nearly as informational as Anna had hoped at the time. How to change a tire, who to call in case of a roadside emergency. How to check the oil and refill the wiper fluid. Anna had known that much by following her grandfather around on the farm before being shipped off to school.

  His head tipped to the side.

  The youthfulness that had once filled his face was no longer there.

  “I remember you, Miss Cor
bin.” He nodded. “It’s been a while.”

  It had been well over ten years.

  “How’s Sabella doing?” she asked.

  Rory’s sister-in-law had been struggling with a failing business, but she had still taken time out to come to the exclusive school.

  “Are you finished with the pleasantries now?” Crowe asked mockingly. “Or would the two of you like us to return?”

  “Not really.” Anna smiled back at him tightly. “I don’t get to town much, cousin. Remember? And polite conversation is just so hard to come by.”

  The other three security agents were the ones snickering now. At least until Crowe and Archer sent a warning look their way.

  “As I was attempting to point out, I’m not in the mood to see another of those helpless, obviously tortured bodies of a young woman who dared to have contact with me, Rafer, or Logan. Especially not the only cousin who had the good grace and generous heart to reach out to us every damned time she saw us,” Crowe snapped. “So you can pretend they’re not there and accept it.”

  Anna stared at him silently for long moments before replying. “Thanks for speaking back all those times.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her breasts defensively.

  “And thank you for not attracting the Slasher’s eye and getting yourself killed,” he grunted. “Now, if we have the pleasantries out of the way, can we continue this meeting?”

  “Crowe, the two of you will never stop sniping long enough to get anything out of the way.” Ivan laughed from his position at the side of the table, across from Anna. “Shall I handle this for you, my friend?” he asked, his Russian accent filled with amusement.

  He was a handsome man. Not as handsome as Archer, definitely dangerous, and not one to suffer fools easily, she had found.

  “Why do you think I need protection?” She turned to Archer. “I know you’re behind this, so why don’t you explain it? He’s not handling it very well.” Her nose wrinkled with charming disgust.

  At least she wasn’t completely refusing to cooperate, Archer thought, amused. It would have been uncomfortable if she had made him appear a liar after he’d said she was entirely reasonable.