The Lost Tycoon Page 6

  “Have I been a suspect?” Misty didn’t know why that was the first question to pop out, but she wanted to know.

  He paused for a moment, seeming to consider what he was going to say. “We had Jesse under surveillance for several months before you left town, and we’d pretty much eliminated you as a suspect,” he began, then paused. “And then you disappeared. At first we thought there might be foul play, but once we got witness testimony of the fight you had, and once we spoke with several people who had seen that you left without Jesse pursuing you, we suspected you’d gone underground. So, yes, anyone dealing with Jesse is a suspect, but you were quickly eliminated from that unhappy group.”

  “You spoke to my neighbors?” That somehow felt like a violation.

  “Yes. You are almost a ghost, Misty.” He paused briefly. “Is it okay if I call you Misty?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. She didn’t like her alias name — it was uncomfortable for her to use or to hear others using. It wasn’t as if she were particularly attached to her real name; it was just that she was used to it. During the last year, she’d had a difficult time using her first fake name, and now she was doing it all over again with a completely new one.

  “Great. As I was saying, you are almost a ghost. There’s very little information on you. No credit, no family, no trails. It wasn’t easy to find you.”

  What shocked Misty was the tone of his voice. He sounded…impressed. That didn’t seem possible. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything spectacular. She just had no one who cared where she was.

  If that were something to brag about, she’d receive the Olympic metal for her efforts. The good thing with having no ties had been that it was easier to leave at a moment’s notice. The bad thing was that she had no one to turn to when the chips were stacked against her.

  “I was raised in the foster-care system. I don’t know anyone, really — don’t have any deep connections.”

  Something in his eyes softened. Sympathy. She was used to that, and couldn’t stand it. What would a person like him know about it, anyway? He had no right to be sympathetic toward her.

  “I was in the foster-care system, too, Misty, until I was nine. Then I was lucky enough to meet my father.”

  Wow. Misty stared at this professional man before her, with his custom suit, a sparkle in his eyes, and confidence screaming from every pore. He’d been a foster kid? It didn’t seem possible.

  “You can’t just accept your fate, Misty. I had given up, as so many others do. But you can be whoever and whatever you want. That’s why it’s so important that you stand up against this villain who took advantage of you, used you, and made you run. Jesse Marcus took something from you, and now it’s time for you to take it back. I can tell you that when you testify, you will start to put the pieces of your life back together, or better yet, make a whole new life that is even better than it was before. The fear will dwindle, and you can pull yourself out of this prison you’ve been forced into.”

  Misty listened to him speak, his words like molasses warming on top of a hot gas stove, coating her, comforting her, offering her a place to go in a safer world. Oh, this man was clearly a pretty great attorney. She’d bet he didn’t ever lose a case. Okay, maybe that was statistically almost impossible, but she’d still bet he hadn’t lost in a very long time. He didn’t seem capable of it.

  “What will I have to do? Will Agent Winchester be involved?”

  “Yes, he will be involved all the way through, which is in your favor. I’ve known Bryson for many years, and he’s a solid and a good man. You want him to be on your side. He keeps his word. The only thing that would stop him from protecting you would be death, and I’m telling you, I think he’s superhuman, because he’s been in a few situations from which no man should have come out alive, and yet he’s still here,” Camden said with a chuckle.

  “So what do you need from me?” she asked again, since he’d either ignored the question or gotten distracted.

  “Do you know what a deposition is?”

  “No.” She didn’t know any of this lawyer speak.

  “I will meet with you and Agent Winchester and the lead attorney on the case against Jesse in my offices in Montana with a court-appointed recorder taking notes. You will make a legally binding statement, explaining everything you know about Jesse and his criminal dealings. We have a lot of witnesses, Misty. We just want this case to be open-and-shut. Not all the witnesses will be called to the stand, and not all of the statements will be used in the trial unless we think we are losing.”

  “That’s it? I just make a statement?” That wasn’t so bad, not at all the way she thought it would be. No Jesse in the room; nobody staring daggers at her.

  “I don’t want to mislead you, Misty,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows propped up on his knees, his eyes intense. “There is a very real chance that we will call you to the stand, that we will ask you to repeat your story in front of a jury. From the evidence we’ve found, you seem to know a lot. There are a couple of other women who saw even worse crimes committed by Jesse, but you’re a valuable witness. What is going down is a very big prosecution with some even bigger players than Jesse involved, and all testimony is valuable to the case.”

  Misty gazed back at Camden — this man whom she normally would never have a conversation with, someone she’d pass on the street and not feel worthy enough to nod to, and it gave her a measure of pride that he needed her. Yes, what he needed her for was her testimony, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was that she was needed.

  Her entire attitude changed. Not only could she do this, but she wanted to do this.

  “When will it begin?” she asked. She couldn’t get out of this anyway, so she might as well accept it. The sooner it was over, the better.

  “Soon. Probably a week or two. But for right now I’d like for you to tell me your story.” He leaned back.

  “Just start talking?”

  “Yes. No pressure, no one recording anything. Remember, this is informal today. We’re getting to know each other. You tell me your story, and then I’ll advise you of what comes next.”

  “Okay,” Misty said, and she began. She would tell this stranger everything she knew about Jesse, everything she’d been an unwilling witness to during the year she’d been with him. A relatively short period of her life had shaped her more than she cared to admit, and telling this man about it was oddly freeing.

  Chapter Seven

  His doorbell rang at close to two in the morning, and Bryson didn’t even blink. He’d been waiting for this visit.

  “You could have at least phoned me and let me know what in the hell was going on!” he snapped as he threw open the door, standing there in his sweats, a pronounced scowl on his face.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Bryson,” Camden said cheerily as he stepped over the threshold of Bryson’s temporary home.

  “I’m really not in the mood for small talk, Cam. What happened?”

  “I think it’s better if you wait until the deposition, but what’s important is that she is feeling much better about testifying. I’d prefer not to put her on the stand. I think she’s strong, but this woman has been put through hell, and I mean the deepest, darkest depths of hell. I really don’t want to drag her back there, but I’m pretty sure she can handle it if it comes to that.” Camden walked over to Bryson’s liquor cabinet and helped himself.

  “I don’t want to do that to her, either, Cam. I want to protect her. But to hear it coming from you, a lawyer who will do anything to win — well, I’m surprised.” Bryson joined his friend and poured himself a strong drink.

  Camden ignored Bryson’s lawyer barb. “Hmm. I’ve never heard you say you didn’t want a witness to testify. Are you breaking your own rules and getting involved?” His eyes were twinkling.

  “Butt out, Cam,” Bryson growled.

  Camden laughed outright. “Whoa, this girl has you tied in knots.”

  “That’s
impossible. I hardly know her,” Bryson snarled, but his temper immediately dissipated, and he slumped into the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted.

  “You may hardly know her, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this twisted up. Damn! Glad I came here to see this for myself instead of making an impersonal phone call.” Camden sat down across from him, looking far too smug for Bryson’s liking.

  “I just…she’s different.” Why couldn’t he put his finger on what he was feeling?

  “She most certainly is. If you aren’t interested…” Camden trailed off, but his message was perfectly clear.

  “If you touch her, I will break both your legs.”

  “You could try,” Camden replied, fully unperturbed, while Bryson felt as if he were walking a high wire and about to fall off — with no safety net anywhere.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Cam? I thought you were on my side.” Bryson jumped out of his seat and went over for a refill. This night was growing worse by the minute.

  Camden and Misty had been at the meeting for far too long. Bryson had been pacing the house for hours, imagining all sorts of scenarios. For one, Camden was known as a lady-killer. Bryson trusted Camden to be professional, and it would ruin the case if his friend slept with a possible witness, but then again, Bryson also had no business sleeping with a woman he was charged with helping to protect. He could lose everything over it. For another, Camden didn’t know how Bryson felt. Well, obviously the guy did now!

  “Wow. I could lie and say I’m not enjoying it at all,” Cam said, “but lawyers have a bad enough reputation for not being able to tell the truth, so I’ll be honest and say that your pain is my absolute delight. I can’t ever recall you so messed up over a woman. I do remember, in college, a Sandy something, and you wanting in her pants pretty desperately, but even that doesn’t compare to the mess you are in right now.”

  “Yeah, if I remember right, you scored with Sandy first,” Bryson said. He didn’t care at all about that old college flame, but he felt he had to point out his friend’s horning in on what Bryson had dibbed his.

  “Hey, you were the one who made the bet to see which of us could get her out on a date first.” Though Cam was defending himself, he was not proud of what an ass he had been back in college.

  “She was the one known for chasing only the rich boys,” Bryson said, but he was also feeling guilty about the way they’d treated girls back then.

  Women had been nothing more than a night of pleasure to them, and once the night was over, the guys had walked away shame-free. As he sat there, he realized that not much had changed in ten years. Pretty pathetic.

  “Seriously, Cam, this topic is depressing the hell out of me. Why don’t you just tell me what you can, and then we’ll get some sleep and forget all about anything else that’s been said.”

  Cam thought for a moment before nodding his agreement. “She was scared when I first approached her, very jumpy. By the end of the night, it was almost like watching a butterfly spread its wings. Something came over her, and confidence shone from her eyes. I was impressed, and you know that doesn’t happen too often with me.”

  “No. You’re a very hard man to impress,” Bryson said with a chuckle, feeling oddly pleased, and proud of Misty’s transformation from the shrinking violet he’d first met. Of course, he had no right to feel those emotions toward his witness. She wasn’t his — didn’t want to be his — couldn’t be his.

  It didn’t matter how many times he told himself this, he still wanted her, wanted her to the point that she was almost an obsession. It was irrational, and it was the reason he hadn’t allowed himself any physical contact with her in two months, until just a few days ago. He’d practically jumped to take the other case. And then he’d done nothing but think about her, and he’d eagerly agreed to go right back to watching over Misty.

  Not seeing her for all that time hadn’t helped, not even a little. Her voice had come through the phone line sounding all sexy and deep, sending his imagination into overdrive. The worst part of the entire situation? That he knew she wasn’t trying to be seductive, wasn’t trying to lure him to her. Her innocence was a flipping aphrodisiac — far more effective than chocolate or oysters. Being away from her hadn’t done anything to lessen his obsession. If anything, as he discovered when he saw her again after so long, it had only made the coals red-hot.

  He’d never before so desired to grab a woman, throw her down on the kitchen table, and show her how high he could make her fly. He’d wanted to bury himself within her, make her scream out his name. He’d wanted to claim her as his…and he still wanted to.

  Damn! Now he was getting hard, and this wasn’t the time or place. If Cam got even a hint, he’d pounce with his rapier wit. Humiliating. Bryson sat back down.

  “Go on,” he said, taking a long swallow from his glass.

  Cam’s eyes were suspicious, but he didn’t call Bryson out on his pathetic behavior.

  “Her testimony would help seal the case. It’s just that her situation sucked.”

  “Sucked? Really, Cam? Is that official lawyer speak?”

  “Shut up, Bryson. I’m trying to put it in layman’s terms for your benefit,” Cam fired back.

  “Okay, okay, enough shots at each other. You’re sure she’s going to cooperate?” Bryson was worried that she’d take off at the last minute. She was damn good at hiding, and they might not find her again until it was too late. Then he’d have to bust her. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Yes, she’ll testify. We will meet and get her official statement. If I can keep her off the witness stand, I will, but I don’t think that can happen. There are a few more balls that need to be gathered up before we make the official charge. It doesn’t help that Jesse now knows what is happening. All of the witnesses are under protection of U.S. marshals, not to mention us, and he’s becoming desperate. That concerns me.”

  Bryson’s stomach tensed. If Camden was worried, there was a problem. “My supervisor is aware of Jesse’s activities and he’s given us the same information. There is nothing more dangerous than a hunted animal, and that’s what Jesse is right now. The boss has assigned me to stay close to here. Axel is covering one of the other witnesses, but we’re communicating daily.”

  “A few minutes could be the difference between life and death,” Camden warned him.

  “What in the hell am I supposed to do? Move in with her?”

  “Yeah, I somehow don’t think that will help. You could easily get blindsided when the perp comes in and you’re lying on top of her, oblivious to the world.”

  Suddenly Bryson was in his friend’s face. “Don’t talk about her that way.”

  When Cam began laughing, Bryson realized what a fool he was making of himself. He immediately backed off, hoping to recover the situation.

  “Whoa, you have it bad,” Cam said between chuckles.

  “What in the hell is this girl doing to me?” Bryson asked. “We haven’t even kissed.” He was unusually perplexed. “She’s a witness; she’s crucial to this trial. I can’t screw this up — I’ve never screwed it up before.” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair.

  “We all fall eventually, my friend,” Cam said, rising to his feet.

  “Neither of us has,” Bryson reminded him.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Cam said, his eyes losing focus for a minute, as if he were no longer in the room with Bryson.

  “Now I’m curious,” Bryson said, on red alert.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just an old flame.”

  “I’ve known you for fifteen years, Cam. If something is tying you up, it won’t stop until you fix the situation. You’ve always had a killer instinct about people, which is what makes you the best damn lawyer I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

  It was a rare moment when the two men let down their guard and spoke honestly. Sometimes, being a man wasn’t easy — always trying to play the hero, always doing what was ex
pected. Feelings just weren’t allowed.

  “Let’s just get through one case at a time,” Cam said. “We’ll lock this bastard up for good, and then we can worry about our pathetic love lives.”

  “I hear you and agree,” Bryson told him.

  “I need to fly back early, so I’m going to catch a nap and then head out. You fly up next week, and we’ll get her testimony on record, then catch dinner at my place before you rush away.”

  “I’ve had your cooking, Cam. I’d rather live.”

  “I agree! We’ll go out, Bryson.”

  “Sounds like a plan. This should be an interesting trip.”

  The two men parted, and Bryson climbed the stairs of his temporary home. The next week was going to be hell. He would just have to make sure he kept it professional. Of course he’d do that. He was a professional, after all. Having reassured himself on that point, he got into the shower.

  Yes, he would put his feelings over this girl on the back burner — keep it neutral — do the job he was hired to do.

  It was easier said than done, he knew when he was lying in bed an hour later, thinking of Misty each time he shut his eyes.

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered as he twisted onto his side and punched his pillow into a usable headrest. He finally fell asleep, and his dreams were filled with one green-eyed beauty and her killer body.

  Chapter Eight

  The day wasn’t going as planned, and not only did Bryson have a wicked headache that was threatening to make the top of his skull explode, but he was also running late and worried about Misty. The marshal had flown with her to Montana, and he had come in later.

  Dammit.

  He’d wanted to fly with her. Maybe his supervisor had realized that…maybe they knew he was feeling less than professional with her. That wouldn’t be good for his career. The problem was that he didn’t give a lick about his career at the moment.

  Right there was a reason he should avoid this woman. She was making him not care about matters that had always been important to him. When a woman wanted a man to change, that was the time to get as far from her as possible.