Witness Seduction

Caleb arched one dark brow. “Stu and Debbie, you mean.”

“Right, Stu, I don’t know why I said Stan.” She felt a little flustered, especially when a knowing glint filled his eyes. He knew exactly what she’d tried to do, but hey, at least he’d passed the test. So why was he still all fidgety?

“When did you say you moved in?” she asked, watching him carefully.

“I didn’t. But it’s been a week.”

A week? And she hadn’t seen him even once? She tried to rein in her misgivings. Okay, so maybe he didn’t leave the house a lot. He could be one of those hermit types who liked being alone indoors.

“And you’re here for the summer?” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Yep.”

“On vacation?” she pressed.

“Work-related, actually.”

For Pete’s sake, getting answers from this man was like pulling teeth. She paused for a second, trying to concoct a way to draw some more details out of him, when a flash of red caught her eye. She glanced down, surprised to see an angry-looking scrape on her upper arm. She must have cut herself when she’d grabbed for the ledge, or maybe on her way down into Caleb’s arms.

“Shoot, I should get this cleaned up,” she said.

“Do you need any help?”

His voice was so full of reluctance she almost felt insulted. Jeez, was the thought of spending even a few more minutes with her that unappealing?

She frowned. “I’m a nurse, I can take care of it. But thanks.”

Caleb slung his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shifting awkwardly. “You better go in and get that taken care of. Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself anywhere else?”

She examined her arms and legs, then flexed her back, wincing when a jolt of pain sliced up her left shoulder. “I think I pulled a muscle,” she answered, “but it’s nothing some yoga can’t fix this evening.”

Caleb coughed abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrinkling her brow.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, fine.” He began to inch away again. Lord, the way this guy acted, it was as if she was carrying the Ebola virus or something. “I really do have to go. Take care of yourself, uh…?”

“Marley,” she supplied.

“Marley,” he echoed. He lifted his hand, giving a stilted wave and a brisk nod, and then hurried off with long, smooth strides.

She watched as he walked away, shaking her head to herself. He disappeared around the side of the house and a few moments later, she heard the Strathorns’ front door shut.

Okay. Well, that was kind of weird. He was probably telling the truth, and really was renting the house next door, but maybe she ought to call the number Debbie had left for her just to make sure Caleb Ford was who he said he was. He’d been acting a little odd for her liking.

Yeah, she definitely should call, she decided as she bent down to take care of the ladder. She pushed it to the wall, leaning it length-wise against the house, then glanced down at her arm, which was beginning to ooze blood.

With a sigh, she headed into the house, making a mental note to contact Debbie Strathorn as soon as possible. Caleb Ford might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he was still a stranger.

And these days, Marley’s guard went on high alert when it came to sexy men who made her heart skip a beat.

A girl couldn’t be too cautious, after all.

“SO…WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?”

Caleb nearly tripped over his own feet at the sound of AJ’s voice. He’d expected to find the master bedroom empty, but AJ was casually sitting at the desk, sipping from a tall Starbucks cup.

With his military-style buzz cut, tattooed arms and black leather jacket, Adam James Callaghan looked like the type of guy Caleb would be slapping handcuffs on and dragging to jail.

But AJ was a damn good agent, a bit of a legend around the Drug Enforcement Agency. He’d spent three years undercover with a Colombian drug cartel, which was how he’d gotten all the tattoos. Had to prove himself, show he was one of them, AJ had told Caleb. He’d also managed to gather enough evidence to take down the entire organization. But now he was stateside, assigned as Caleb’s new partner.

Caleb walked over to the desk and peered at the monitors, instantly spotting Marley in the kitchen. She was pulling a first-aid kit out of the cupboard under the sink.

“What was what about?” he asked, absently reaching for one of the steaming cups sitting in the cardboard tray on the desk.

AJ shot him a look loaded with disbelief. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I come back from a coffee run to find—”

“You came in from the back, right?” Caleb cut in.

“Yes, I came in from the back. Same way I’ve been coming in for the past week. And yes, I parked the car two streets over. And no, nobody saw me when I cut through the park on my way here.” AJ frowned. “Now quit interrogating me and tell me what the hell you were thinking, making contact with Kincaid.”

Caleb walked over to the king-size bed and sank down onto the edge. “She fell off a ladder.”

AJ swiveled his chair around to face him. “She fell off a ladder,” he repeated.

“Yes, but she managed to hang on to the roof. She would have fallen off that, too, if I hadn’t gone out to help her.” The defensive note in his voice made him want to cringe, but he knew AJ’s thoughts on the subject of Marley Kincaid. And none of them were too positive.

AJ put down his coffee cup in obvious annoyance. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, we’re on a stakeout, man. The whole point of a stakeout is remaining out of sight, inconspicuous.”

“I know that,” Caleb ground out. “But what did you want me to do, watch her tumble to her death?”

“What I want you to do is focus on the bastard that killed one of our own.” AJ frowned. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, Caleb, and I don’t particularly like it, all right? She might very well be helping Grier and you know it.”

“Yes, and she might not be helping him,” Caleb countered, meeting his partner’s hard gaze with one of his own.

“Then explain the hundred grand that was wired into her bank account after the DEA got the tip that Grier was heading to San Diego.”

“It was a joint account, you know that. Grier could’ve made the deposit as easily as Kincaid.”

“And she has no knowledge of what’s going on in her own bank accounts? If a hundred thousand dollars mysteriously wound up in my account, I’d be talking to the bank, or calling the cops. Unless I know my slime-bag ex put it in there, and I’m planning on helping him get out of the country.”

Caleb’s jaw tightened at the thought of Grier taking off and disappearing. Oh, no, not happening. Caleb would catch the son of a bitch long before that happened. The DEA finally had hard evidence on the guy, after years of being unable to bring charges against the supposed web designer. Three months ago, an informant inside the Ruiz cartel—the Brazilian outfit they’d been trying to bust for years—had provided information about a shipment Grier was scheduled to distribute for the Ruizes.

Only, the raid they’d organized hadn’t gone as planned, and Grier had yet again escaped arrest.

“If she’s helping Grier, we’ll find out,” Caleb replied. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe she’s involved, maybe she’s not. But don’t paint her with Grier’s brush until we have some proof.”

Even as he said the words, he knew AJ wouldn’t heed them. His partner believed in Marley’s guilt. Caleb, on the other hand…he was ninety percent sure Marley wasn’t involved in any of this. He didn’t quite believe Marley was in cahoots with Grier now, or that she’d been aware of his actions then. Grier was smooth, and according to his file, he’d fooled women before. Killed them, too, or at least he’d been suspected of it.