Wicked Lies Page 3

  The Maddox Princess.

  She would often laugh at her big brothers and their friends for their protectiveness, Jazz remembered. She’d slip away from them when it seemed there was no way possible to do so. She would do it just to make them crazy as they searched for her. Just to show the big bad Navy SEALs that they weren’t all that, she’d claim.

  God, how many times had she convinced him to help her even when he’d known better?

  Far too many, he remembered. And each time Cord, Deacon, or Sawyer Maddox had planted a fist in Jazz’s face for his efforts. Never once had Jazz not considered it worth it just to watch her effectively escape three men trained to keep her in sight.

  God help him, he still fucking missed her, still ached so deep inside that the sensation was a constant companion, a constant reminder to never let it happen again.

  Finishing his beer in one long drink Jazz tossed the bottle to the trash, uncaring of the reverberation of sound that crashed through the RV.

  Cord didn’t flinch; he barely blinked, though his gaze sliced to the can and held there for long moments as though considering the move.

  “Yeah,” he breathed out, the sound both saddened and resigned. “Damned hard to forget that summer, isn’t it?”

  Impossible. Especially with Cord or one of his brothers reminding him of her every chance they had. Damn them. It had been long enough, far too long.

  “Just get to the fucking point,” Jazz snapped. “I don’t have all night to waste.”

  Cord just stared back at him, the somber memories in his eyes more than Jazz wanted to confront.

  “Tell me, Jazz,” he asked then. “If I hadn’t threatened to kill you over her that summer, if I’d given you the go-ahead to court her, would you have been with her when she left?”

  He would have shadowed her like a fucking lovesick dog, desperate to be by her side. But that weight was one Cord didn’t need to carry. He carried enough guilt as it was.

  His jaw clenched. “I don’t want to talk about this, Cord. It’s ten years old, let it go.”

  “Answer me.” The banked fury in Cord’s voice didn’t intimidate him, it simply emphasized the importance of the question.

  He’d asked himself that question far too often and the answer always pissed him right off.

  “That was her and her mother’s trip. I wouldn’t have gone with her unless she’d asked and your mother agreed. And that’s assuming she’d even wanted anything to do with me.”

  It was their girl time.

  He’d have stayed close, but he would have never interfered. Hell, he’d nearly done it anyway. That one was his fault.

  “She would have asked.” Grief still lined Cord’s face. “And she would have had you, Jazz.” He ran his hand over his face wearily then. “She would have had you.”

  Ten years. Almost ten years to the day that Cord’s mother and sister had died, supposedly in a fiery explosion that swept the upper floors of their hotel.

  “Why are you here, Cord?” he finally asked. “What the hell do you want that’s so damned important that you came here tonight?”

  As far as he was concerned, the discussion, like the past, was over. Just because he remembered, just because he still dreamed of her occasionally, didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it now, any more than he’d been able to talk about it then.”

  “You may as well call Slade and have him hear this as well,” Cord said after taking another sip of his beer. “I didn’t see Zack outside but if he’s here, call him in. I don’t have time to wait for him otherwise.”

  Jazz paused in the act of reaching inside the refrigerator for another beer. Grabbing the bottle he turned on the other man slowly, closing the door absently as he twisted the cap free and tossed it to the trash as well.

  “I already warned them you were showing up. They have a few minutes before arriving. What’s going on?” With a Maddox, doing someone else a favor could mean any damned thing.

  “Let’s wait on them.” Cord glanced at the door as he braced his arms on his legs and rolled the bottle of beer between his palms. “I don’t feel like explaining it twice.”

  Hell. Jazz wondered if it was too late to just kick the bastard out and forget whatever the “favor” was. Thing was, Cord was well aware of Jazz’s ire. Several years before, Jazz had tried to contact him to accompany him and Zack to DC to help Slade when he’d been in trouble there.

  The message hadn’t been answered for more than a year. By then it had been too late. Slade had been back in Loudon, the situation in DC resolved.

  Slade’s advice to both Jazz and Zack had been to let it go. Letting it go wasn’t easy, though. If Slade hadn’t returned, if the worst had happened, then they would have lost not just the man they called brother, but also the woman whose soul had nearly died when Slade had first left.

  Jessie loved Slade with such strength that had something happened to him, Jazz didn’t doubt she’d have drifted away until she was gone as well. A low knock at the door interrupted the memory, pulling his thoughts back to the present. Stepping to the door, Jazz unlocked it before turning the knob and pushing it open.

  It didn’t take long for Slade to enter the RV. Jazz tossed him a beer and leaned negligently against the counter, waiting until the door opened again and Zack stepped inside.

  For three men who were essentially brothers as well as business partners, Jazz, Slade, and Zack couldn’t have been more different, even in looks. Slade was dark blond, with refined features and an innate confidence often mistaken for arrogance.

  Zack was the patient numbers person. He could tally up a construction job in his head so fast it amazed Jazz, and he was normally within a 98 percent margin of the actual cost or profit. Light-brown hair and patient gray eyes hid a man seething with the possible explosion to come, though. He was too damned patient and rarely shared his thoughts, let alone any feelings he might have.

  Jazz was the people person. He was the one who took the calls from irate building owners or insurance agents. He didn’t take much shit, but he knew the value of a calm word. At six six, with eyes too blue and strong mountain features, he was known to make even the stoutest man wary; he’d had to work on his people skills over the years. And he’d done a damned fine job of it, if he did say so himself.

  She would have been proud of him …

  His brothers were damned thankful.

  They were friends, brothers, and partners in the building construction business, Rigor Construction, their foster father, Toby, had left them on his death. And now, fourteen years after his death, that business was thriving just as Toby had promised it would.

  Only Slade had settled down, though. In Jessie, he’d found a woman who loved him and could put up with him at the same time. Zack was trying to deny who he wanted, but Jazz had seen that relationship building for several years. As for himself, hell, he couldn’t get a ghost out of his heart enough to give it to another woman.

  “We’re all here now,” he growled as Slade and Zack glanced over at him questioningly. “What the hell’s this favor you’re so intent on doing for us?”

  Cord’s expression hardened for a moment as his head turned to stare back at Jazz. “How well you know that little kindergarten teacher you were swapping tongues with outside?”

  Trust Cord to just throw a man’s business in the street for everyone to haggle over. The fact that there was a fine thread of anger in his tone wasn’t missed. Jazz was damned certain where it originated too.

  “Swapping tongues?” Slade turned to Jazz instantly with a glare, well aware of who Cord was talking about. “Jazz, dammit, I told you to stay the hell away from Annie. When you break her heart, Jessie will kick both our asses.”

  Disgust edged at his friend’s voice as Cord kept his gaze on Jazz for a second before turning to Slade.

  “She’s Jessie’s friend, too, isn’t she?” Cord pointed out. “You did a check on her?”

  “Of course I did.” Slade’s dark-blond brows lowered
as irritation tightened his lips. “What’s this all about, Maddox?”

  Reaching into the front pocket of his dark shirt, Cord pulled a slender flash drive from the interior before flipping it to the table where Slade sat.

  “I checked her background myself,” he said quietly. “Surface check was gold until I called a contact with ties to the university where she obtained her teaching certificate. There was definitely an Annie Mayes who received one, and she was definitely at the address given until just a few weeks before showing up here. What I found buried a bit, though, was the fact that she flew off to China with her lover—a carefully placed CIA asset—several years ago. Another check there found Miss Mayes happily teaching at a small private school for American businessmen located in Hong Kong.” Mockery filled his hard features. “We might think we’re in BFE sometimes, but I’ve never mistaken Loudon for Hong Kong.”

  Jazz stared at the flash drive lying on the table for long moments before glancing back to Cord. “What was your interest? Why take the time to check anything out?”

  Cord didn’t always concern himself with what was going on in town; he left that up to his younger brothers. So why pick on a kindergarten teacher who kept to herself?

  “I get real curious about folks teaching Kin’s kids,” Cord stated, the dark-emerald gaze glittering dangerously. “She has a new student coming into her class in the fall, one I look after personally. So I did the check personally. Then I started watching her. She spends a lot of time tracking Jazz and that just made me suspicious as hell anyway. And I owe you for being unable to help the three of you when you asked. That’s why I followed up on the information and tried to learn who she was and where she came from. Something I haven’t been able to do. The trail stops with the false identity. I want to know who she is and why she’s here, and your interest in her hinders that…”

  Meaning the strong-arm tactics Cord was known for wouldn’t be missed and damned sure wouldn’t go over well with Jazz or his brothers.

  “She could be in danger,” Slade pointed out in concern as he glanced at Jazz, then back to Cord. “A false identity doesn’t always mean someone is hiding from the truth, or hiding any wrongdoing.”

  Like Jessie and Jazz, Slade had been concerned about some of Annie’s odd habits. There were times she’d seemed to know things about them that she shouldn’t. Once she’d referenced a business that hadn’t been in business for years before she arrived in town. And her familiarity with Slade, Jessie, Jazz, and Zack from the beginning had made them all wary at first.

  “If you say so.” Cord wasn’t listening if the shrug of his shoulder and chill in his tone were any indication. “I owe you though, so I’m giving the three of you the chance to figure it out.”

  Annie had been wary since coming to Loudoun. She avoided crowds unless school-related; even when attending the weekend lake parties, she rarely stayed long. Who was she hiding from?

  “I don’t know who she is,” Cord continued, his expression tightening for a moment. “I don’t care who she is. I want her out of Loudoun and out of that classroom before fall.” The hard, intent look Cord shot him had Jazz’s brows lifting mockingly. “Find out who she is and give me a logical reason for the false identity or get rid of her. You have ten days, then I take care of it.”

  He was fucking joking. Jazz almost laughed in his face at the ridiculous order.

  “Like hell.” All the lazy negligence Jazz was deliberately projecting disappeared at Cord’s ultimatum. “You call that a favor, Maddox? I call it a personal fucking suicide wish. Stay away from her.”

  Jazz straightened from the counter, his arms falling from their position across his chest to drop to his sides as he faced the heir apparent of the Maddox clan. He didn’t give a damn who Cord Maddox thought he was, or what he might have been in the military; he’d be damned if the other man would take care of anything where Annie was concerned.

  “She’s a liability.” Icy determination filled the other man’s voice as he simply stared up at Jazz. “The three of you know what that means. I can’t track her, I can’t identify her, that makes her a danger. I will not tolerate the threat to the family, Jazz and you should understand that better than anyone. We’ve lost enough already.”

  The reminder didn’t sway him the way Cord had no doubt hoped.

  “I said you’ll stay the hell away from her,” Jazz demanded, refusing to consider, or to allow, anything else. “If she’s in danger then I’ll be damned if I’ll let you make it worse.”

  He and Cord were on a collision course if the other man thought differently.

  “I gave you warning.” Cord rose to his feet, watching Jazz carefully. “Ten days…”

  “Three weeks, Cord.” Slade didn’t bother to demand, order, or ask. He made a statement as well as the concession of a deadline.

  Three weeks, his ass, Jazz thought.

  Jazz didn’t bother to protest; nor did he demand anything even resembling a concession. He kept his gaze locked on Cord’s, let the other man know where it counted that Annie, whoever the hell she was, was off limits.

  He and Cord had known each other since they were kids. They’d known each other far too long, Jazz thought, because he knew the core of the man Cord had become in the past ten years. And he knew the Maddox heir would have no problem at all ensuring Annie Mayes was out of Loudoun and no longer an unknown threat. But just because Jazz knew why, because he understood why, didn’t mean it was acceptable.

  “You finally let go, didn’t you?” Cord asked then, his tone low, the somber resignation filled with regret.

  Was that what Cord actually believed?

  “What choice have I had?” Let go? Hell, even Jazz knew he didn’t know the meaning of the term.

  “Dangerous game you’re playing, Jazz,” Cord observed wearily as he pushed the fingers of one hand through his thick dark-blond hair. “She could be dangerous to all of us.”

  Dangerous? “A friggin’ kindergarten teacher, Cord?” Disgust filled his voice. “How the hell do you figure?”

  “Because she’s lying about who she is and why she’s here, which means she has an agenda here. One I can’t figure out,” Cord snapped. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

  She was a threat.

  Had it been anyone else, Jazz would have agreed. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Annie.

  “Evidently she’s a risk I’m willing to take.” It was a risk he had no choice but to take. Annie wasn’t a risk to the Maddox clan or the Kin and he’d be damned if he’d let either of them make her “disappear.” He’d fight the whole mountain if he had to. “By the way, next time, don’t do me any fucking favors, okay?”

  Cord nodded, his expression tightening with merciless determination. “Good luck, then, I have a feeling you’ll need it.” Turning back to Slade, he nodded slowly. “You have your three weeks. I hope you don’t regret it.”

  Cord moved past him and left the RV by the same door they’d entered. The shadowed, lake side of the parking spot edged into a narrow line of woods that separated the clearing from the parking area. It was a perfect spot to sit and watch those attending the weekend. It was also perfect cover for the Kin to move about and watch without being seen.

  “Hell!” Leaning back in his seat, Slade ran one hand over his face before reaching back to rub at his neck. “I knew something was off. I just didn’t expect this. Damn, why didn’t I send someone out to check deeper?”

  Jazz had considered it, but he’d backed off at the last minute. He hadn’t suspected this, not consciously, but he knew he should have.

  They’d all known something was off where she was concerned, but Jazz had to admit he wasn’t exactly surprised by the fact that she wasn’t who she said she was. There had been too many subtle clues that could have been passed off as eccentricities—but once the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, they explained that odd off feeling Jazz experienced around her sometimes.

  “Are we telling Jessie about this?�
� Zack asked at that point, a single brow arching quizzically as he faced Slade.

  Annie was Jessie’s closest friend. The two women could get as giggly as teenagers whenever they were together. They borrowed each other’s clothes, shoes, and purses and argued incessantly over their favorite shows.

  “As if I have a choice.” Slade grimaced, the look of helpless resignation almost amusing. “I swore I’d never hide anything important from her again. I’m pretty sure she’d consider this important.”

  Yeah, Jazz thought, he’d agree with her, too.

  “Ya think?” Zack grunted sarcastically.

  “Where do we start?” Jazz pinned Slade with a hard look. He knew where he was going to start, but some information was better kept silent in deference to the ulcer Slade often swore Jazz and Zack were going to give him.

  If Cord had already tracked Annie to the point that he knew she wasn’t Annie Mayes but had been unable to dig up so much as a hint of her real identity, then their job would be next to impossible without going outside their normal routes for information. The Kin weren’t just in Loudoun, nor were they all mountain-raised. It was a network that had begun in the mountains only to spread to encompass only God knew how much distance through the subtle web of family links, yet Cord didn’t have the answers he wanted. Someone with a bit more finesse was probably needed at this point.

  “We’ll go over the report Cord put together first,” Slade said, nodding to the flash drive. “I’m going to bet he’s already checked with contacts in the FBI and marshal’s office for witness protection or an agent op. That doesn’t give us many tools to use ourselves.”

  He was going to paddle Annie’s ass for this, Jazz swore. Damn her, if she was in trouble then she should have come to him, or Slade. She could have trusted them. She should have trusted Jazz at least.

  “Why not just ask her,” Jazz bit out, growing more pissed by the minute. “Confront her with the information Cord pulled up and see if she has the good sense to trust us.”