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Walker looked back at her. There was more than just satisfaction at having at least matched Quinn in his eyes. There was an edge, a cool toughness she’d never seen there before.

  “Live with it, Amy,” Walker said, in a voice that matched that expression. “I’m your new bodyguard.”

  Chapter 21

  “Your brother,” Quinn said, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator, “is...surprising.”

  Hayley looked at him. “I noticed.”

  Amy glanced up from where Hayley was dicing onion as Quinn popped the top and took a drink. She knew from Hayley that he wasn’t a big drinker, and wondered if the puzzle that was Walker had driven him to it.

  Please. You’re the one he’s driving crazy.

  “What did you mean when you said he’d had training?” she asked. “Do you mean formal training?”

  “He moves like someone who’s been taught. But that last move, that feint, that was street-survival, think on your feet stuff.” He looked at Hayley. “You said he never took martial arts, or even boxing, growing up?”

  Hayley shook her head. “He was all baseball, all the time.”

  “Interesting. And he also handled that Sig I gave him with some familiarity,” Quinn mused.

  “But he still won’t say how or why, on any of it,” Amy said, irritation spiking through her voice.

  “No. Still says he can’t.” Quinn shrugged. “At this point, I think we have to accept that. For now at least.”

  “I’ll never forgive what he did to Hayley,” Amy said as she added her own sliced tomatoes to the bowl Hayley had placed the diced onions in.

  “I didn’t say anything about forgiveness,” Quinn said. “Just acceptance, in the sense that there’s no use wasting energy pumping him about it.”

  “Well, that I agree with,” Amy said. “It is a waste.”

  She heard Cutter bark from outside, where Walker had taken him for some more romping in the yard, probably with Cutter’s treasured new baseball. Just as he’d begun taking him out early in the morning for a run, saying he wasn’t sleeping, anyway. Avoiding nightmares? she wondered.

  “He’s certainly accepted him,” Hayley said.

  “Yes, he has,” Quinn agreed. “And normally I’d take Cutter’s word for it.”

  “Seriously? The dog?” Amy asked.

  Quinn smiled wryly. “Sounds crazy, I know, but he’s got a hell of a track record.”

  “You don’t think he’s...accepting him just because he can tell he’s related to Hayley?”

  “There is that,” Quinn said. “Which is why I’m withholding final judgment. Because I agree, I don’t think I could ever forgive what he did to Hayley, either.”

  Amy smiled at him, letting her gratitude for his presence in her friend’s life show.

  “You two do realize it’s whether I can forgive him that really counts?”

  They both looked at Hayley. “Of course,” Amy said. “But until then we’re going to be angry on your behalf, so you don’t have to feel bad about it later.”

  Hayley laughed. “How noble of you both.”

  The door swung open, and Cutter trotted into the room. Walker came in after him, shutting the door—not slamming it, Amy noted—behind him. The dog came over to them, greeting each in turn, as if he’d been gone for days instead of a little less than an hour.

  “Thanks for running him,” Hayley said.

  “You’re cooking,” Walker said with a shrug.

  Amy was seized with the sudden, fierce wish that the cozily domestic scene be real, and lasting. Almost instantly, she quashed it. The combination of wishing and Walker Cole had already taken up far too much of her life. And it wouldn’t do to forget that he would be off again, probably sooner rather than later, indulging his wanderlust and leaving them all behind once more.

  * * *

  Gone.

  Amy stared at the screen. It was undeniable now. She’d checked three times, her certainty that she must just be looking in the wrong place fading as each successive try rendered the same results.

  The files that had started all this were gone. The file on Leda Limited and the bank record, both gone.

  Quickly, in case her boss returned from his afternoon client meeting early, she ran a search of the computer’s hard drive, then of the office local network. Nothing.

  She thought rapidly as she quickly ran a series of other, expected searches to move the ones she’d done off the autofill field. Someone could still find the search terms, but only if they went looking.

  It was clear the files had either been deleted, moved or renamed. They could have only been intended to be there temporarily in the first place. Or worse, he could know they’d been seen. It wouldn’t take much, just checking the date and time the file was last accessed, but would he? Would he bother?

  Only if he really was hiding something, she thought. So if she was right that something was going on, she had to assume he would check, and thus would know the files had been accessed by someone other than himself. And the only people who had access to those files were the partners...and her.

  She knew where suspicion would likely fall.

  And why would he move or delete them, unless he knows? The answer seemed clear.

  “Amy?”

  She nearly jumped. She was not, she told herself sourly, cut out to be a spy. She managed to compose herself and turned to look toward the office doorway, where Becca was standing.

  “Sorry,” she said, rising.

  “No prob,” Becca said. “Just wanted to ask if you’d have time to go over my file on that big embezzlement case. You’ve got such a good eye for inconsistencies and problems.”

  Amy smiled, steadier now. “Of course.”

  “Thanks, girlfriend. I’ll get it to you when it’s done.”

  “Becca?” she asked as the woman turned to go. She looked back. “Have we had any more dealings with Dante Soren on your side?”

  Becca drew back, as if she’d surprised her. “Soren? Not that I know of.” She smiled then. “We got him off, isn’t that enough?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I have to say, your boss was a master. Why on earth he quit criminal cases is beyond me.”

  When she’d gone, Amy sank back into her chair for a moment, pondering that. Why would he have quit if he was dirty? Wouldn’t he want to stay where he’d be coming across people of like mind?

  “Amy?”

  Again she almost jumped, and chided herself for it as she looked over to see Kim, the receptionist, standing where Becca had been.

  “Your ride’s here,” the young woman said.

  Amy’s gaze flicked to the antique clock on the wall, the one Mr. Rockwell had told her had been made by his great-great-grandfather. She was startled to realize it was indeed almost six o’clock. The time at which she had reluctantly agreed her “bodyguard” could come inside to get her.

  “Nice work, by the way,” Kim added. “He’s a hottie.”

  “Mmm,” Amy said noncommittally, fighting the urge to answer, “He’s a jerk.” Hardly an appropriate response, given the cover explanation they’d come up with, that he was giving her a ride because her car was in the shop.

  Besides, that wouldn’t really be fair, or right. Walker had been anything but a jerk. He’d been scrupulously polite all day, from the moment she’d stumbled out to the kitchen and he’d had her coffee ready and waiting—just as she liked it, two sugars, without even asking—to the moment he’d walked her inside. She’d tried to get him to just stop at the elevator downstairs, but he’d insisted on escorting her all the way. She had the feeling that if he thought she’d stand for it, he’d have been sitting in the corner of her cubicle all day long.

  “He’s just a friend,” she said.

  “Dare I h
ope he’s a friend with benefits and your weekend is looking bright?” Kim asked.

  Why was everybody so worried about her sex life? True, she hadn’t had much of one for a long time, but that was her business, wasn’t it?

  “No,” she said, wincing a little at the sharpness of her tone.

  “I’d work on that if I were you. That is some prime real estate.”

  Amy opened her mouth to tell Kim, who went through men on a weekly basis, to give it her best effort. Then she stopped, a little startled at the visceral reaction she had to the thought of another woman going after Walker.

  She managed a flat “I’ll be right out,” and left it at that.

  And wished it was as easy to cut off the thoughts Kim’s teasing had brought on. It was that “with benefits” part...

  For a long moment she just stood there, feeling the sudden speed of her pulse, the heat of her skin as the imaginings tumbled through her head. There were echoes of childhood infatuation there, but she wasn’t a child anymore. And that made it worse, because now her imaginings were based on knowledge, not fantasy. Not that her experience was so extensive. She’d tried, but...

  A sudden memory shot through her mind. Of Hayley, years ago, commiserating with her on the end of the longest relationship she’d ever had with a man. She’d broken it off—new job, not enough time being her excuse, but with that perceptiveness coupled with two decades of friendship Hayley had seen past the pretext.

  “You compare them all to Walker, Amy. But not the real Walker, a fantasy you’ve built up in your mind. And nobody can live up to a fantasy.”

  Hayley had said it with love then, for it was in the days when her brother still made the effort, when he would call, show up on her birthday, when he still acted like a brother who loved his sister.

  Before he’d hurt Hayley so badly Amy had known she could never, ever forgive him.

  “Amy?”

  She spun around. Stared in shock. Not just because he was there, in the doorway, probably having charmed Kim into letting him through. Because when he chose to exercise it, Walker had an abundance of charm. And this was probably Kim’s way of making her point, because what woman breathing could look at Walker Cole and not want him?

  And this Walker Cole would fit right in this office.

  His hair was still too long, but he’d brushed it neatly now, until it fell silkily to one brow in that way that always made her want to run her fingers through it. In fact, it looked like part of a carefully crafted image, a man too busy or too successful to have to worry about such things.

  And the suit. God, the suit, a light gray thing that looked as if it had been custom-tailored for him, made him look broad of shoulder and trim of waist. Which, unlike many others, he actually was. The crisp white shirt and amber-colored tie were the perfect complement. The tie, in fact, set off his eyes, making them look more gold, more dramatic, than ever.

  He looked as if he not only belonged here, but in the corner office.

  No wonder Kim had let him through.

  A shiver went through her as she fought down responses she’d thought were ancient history. But now there he was, standing there, all lean and fit, looking at her curiously, looking at her with those fascinating, dramatically colored eyes, and she was going weak in the knees.

  You’re going weak, period.

  “What have you done?” she asked, hating the almost-rough sound of her voice.

  “Cleaned up?” he suggested. “Hayley pointed out if I’m going to be seen around here, I should at least look like I belong in your world.”

  He looked like he owned her world.

  “Ready?” he prompted, and she realized she’d been standing there gaping at him for...she didn’t know how long.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  “Take your time. I was just checking to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Of course I’m all right.”

  It sounded snappish, but he only tilted his head slightly, as if she were a machine that had made an unexpected noise. Kind of like Quinn had been looking at him lately. And he’d somehow blasted her discovery that the files that had started all this were gone right out of her mind.

  “Let’s go,” she said, still with an edge despite her effort to tame it. She might as well admit it: this man got to her in a way no other ever had. That it was sometimes to make her furious didn’t change but probably enhanced that fact. And noticing that everyone was watching them as they left, no doubt speculating like mad and egged on by Kim, didn’t help any.

  She wasn’t sure anything could help right now.

  Chapter 22

  Walker didn’t say another word until they were in the car. She seemed more edgy than ever, and he didn’t want to risk having someone overhear something and wonder. He was supposed to be a friend, a close enough friend to be chauffeuring her every day, after all.

  They were driving the vehicle they had picked up at the airport. Charlie had another car being outfitted already, Quinn had said, and in the interim they would use hers if they had to. And Quinn had explained to him exactly what “outfitting” meant in Foxworth terms, showing him the secure communications functions now built into what looked like a simple interior light and garage door system.

  He was beginning to realize he’d only seen the tip of the Foxworth iceberg.

  “It’s a good thing my job is just to keep you safe,” he finally said as she fastened her seat belt. “If it was to keep you happy, I’d be a failure.”

  He saw her mouth tighten, but when she spoke, her voice was even. “I’m not sure the former is necessary, and the latter is my problem, not yours.”

  “After what Quinn’s guy found out about Soren, seeing that history, it is necessary,” he argued. “You could end up...”

  He broke off as the speaker in the overhead console suddenly came to life with Quinn’s voice. Amy didn’t seem startled, so apparently she’d already had it explained to her.

  He reached up and pushed the green button to transmit.

  “Here. Just getting ready to leave her office.”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Fine.” Protection-wise, anyway. Personally, not so much.

  “Not really,” Amy said.

  Walker flicked her a sideways glance. Was she going to tell Quinn she didn’t want him around again?

  “Quinn, the files are gone. They’ve been deleted, or renamed. I looked as much as I could without getting caught, but I couldn’t find them.”

  Walker’s relief that she wasn’t asking to get rid of him was quickly vanquished by her words. He frowned as Quinn’s voice came over the speaker again. “No new files that weren’t there before?”

  “I only saw one that was added since I last looked, and it was a new case file from another partner. But I could be missing something. There are at least a hundred files in that secure partition.”

  “Leave it,” Quinn said decisively. “Don’t go poking around there anymore. If we need in, I’ll have Ty tackle it.”

  “We have very good security on that system,” Amy said.

  “And Ty’s very good.”

  “But...”

  “Amy,” Walker said, “if he doesn’t already know you’ve seen those files, why give him another chance?”

  She fell silent, her expression troubled. Walker sensed she was still having trouble with the idea the boss she had once so liked and respected was dirty. He could tell her that sometimes the most charm hid the most dirt—he knew that all too well—but he doubted it would help her much just now.

  “You called for something?” he asked Quinn instead.

  “Yes. Amy, Ty found something I need to ask you about. Does the name Theo Marquis mean anything to you?”

 
She frowned, thought for a moment. “It doesn’t seem familiar, no. Why?”

  “From what Ty was able to track, that seems to be where the money being run through this labyrinth ends up.”

  “That’s who the checks from Leda Limited are going to?”

  “He named the company after a Greek myth?” Walker asked, seemingly bemused. Amy glanced at him, startled. “You know. Leda, Zeus in the form of a swan, resulting in Helen of Troy and the twins whose names I can’t remember.” He finished with a shrug. “Just seems kind of whimsical, that’s all.”

  Amy couldn’t deny it was a bit fanciful. But at the moment something else was tickling at the edge of her memory, distracting her. She tried to focus.

  “Sorry, go ahead, Quinn.”

  “A couple more levels down from Leda. The checks are going from the Leda account to another business account, where it then goes to Marquis. The trail ends there, so we assume he’s just cashing the checks.”

  “So he’s not just trusting what Rockwell set up for laundering, he’s adding his own additional layers?” Walker asked.

  “Or Rockwell set this up for him, too, and there’s just another record that Amy didn’t see.”

  They were talking, Amy realized, like equals. As if they were two professionals. With respect. Somewhere along the line Quinn had gone from decking his brother-in-law to respecting him, at least in this. One little mostly mock fight had accomplished this? Men, Amy thought, were very strange sometimes.

  And the one sitting a foot or so away was one of the strangest.

  She stayed silent for a while after the conversation with Quinn ended. There was traffic, as usual, in the area, and it took a while for them to make it to the freeway south, which wasn’t moving much faster than the city streets had been.

  “Nice suit,” she said when they were finally settled into the flow, slow as it was, knowing how inane it sounded even as she said the words.

  “Thanks.”

  “Expensive looking.”

  He glanced at her. “Worried about my wallet?”

  “Foxworth’s.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Don’t bother. They didn’t pay for it.”