Ingrid Weaver - The Angel and the Outlaw

“No, I don’t think so.”

“His family used to run an organization that would make Oliver and his friends look like Boy Scouts.”

An organization, she thought, as in organized crime. And worse than Oliver? She swallowed. “Used to run?”

“Tony got out of the business ten years ago, but he’s still not a man you would want to mess with.” He paused. “To cut to the chase, Tony financed the Long Shot. Unless I bring Oliver Sproule to justice, he’s going to call in the loan and I’ll lose my bar.”

“I don’t see the connection. Did Oliver do something to this Tony Monaco? Is that why Tony wants you to go after him?”

“That’s beside the point. You said you were interested in my reasons, not Tony’s.”

“It sounds like a strange way to repay a loan.”

“Tony isn’t a banker. If he was, he wouldn’t have given me any money in the first place. Ex-cons aren’t real high on a banker’s preferred-client list.”

She couldn’t disagree. Anyone with a criminal background would be considered a bad credit risk. As unfair as it might be, there would be few, well, conventional financing options open to someone like Cooper. “It seems as if your business is doing well. Every time I’ve gone by, the parking lot is crowded.”

“It didn’t happen overnight. Tony gave me the loan when I got out of prison. I’ve spent every day of the four years since then building the Long Shot into what it is now. Going straight has been damn hard work.”

“Going straight?”

“Surprised, sweetheart?”

She realized she was. Not by his claim that he’d gone straight—although she was glad to hear him say it, all along her instincts had told her he wasn’t as bad as he seemed, despite his gruff manner. What surprised her was the flicker of hurt in his gaze at her thoughtless response.

But what did he expect? He’d been throwing his criminal past in her face since they had met, as if he were trying to shock her, as if he wanted her to assume the worst about him.

Then again, she had already decided he was full of contradictions. Like his primitively sexy yet ultra-sensitive kiss…

She jerked her thoughts back on track. “I’m sorry, Cooper. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s admirable that you, uh…”

“Don’t get carried away. I’m not due for a halo anytime soon. Keeping my nose clean was one of the conditions of Tony’s loan.”

There had to be more to the story, she decided. From the sound of this, Tony was a former mob boss. Why would he care whether or not Cooper went straight…unless he didn’t want Cooper’s activities to compromise his investment. Yes, that was probably it.

But as Cooper had already said, she should be concentrating on his reasons, not Tony’s. “Regardless of why, you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

He lifted his shoulders in a stiff shrug. “The funny thing about earning something honestly is you don’t want to lose it. The Long Shot is mine. I plan to do whatever it takes to keep it.”

“Including putting your life at risk to infiltrate the Sproule organization?”

“Whatever it takes,” he repeated. “Like I said, Tony Monaco isn’t a man you would want to mess with. I owe him. I intend to pay him back.” He pushed away from the window and folded his arms over his chest. “Satisfied now?”

“What?”

“I’ve answered your question. You know why I’m going after Oliver. Anything else you have to say, you can say it in the truck.” He nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”

She had never met anyone as single-minded as Cooper. This man would be a formidable enemy. She had to convince him that he wasn’t hers. She crossed her arms, mirroring his posture, and stayed where she was. “You haven’t told me anything to change my mind. It still makes sense to team up.”

“Hayley, haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?”

“No one has to know, Cooper. Now that you’ve explained why we can’t be seen together, we’ll both be careful not to let that happen. But that’s no reason why we can’t help each other.”

“How?”

“The evidence I told you about yesterday, the information in Adam’s notebook, is only part of what I have. I’ve been gathering material on Oliver and his business since last October. I’ll share it with you. It would give you an advantage before you go into the Sproule organization if you have a framework of knowledge to start from.”

His expression sharpened, his gaze suddenly alert.

Something clicked in Hayley’s mind. “That’s why you were at the Sproule estate last night.”

“What was?”

“You were planning on getting into the house to do some investigating of your own while everyone was distracted with Oliver’s party.”

He hesitated a beat. “Could be.”

“Of course! If you had been there to apply for a job, you wouldn’t have hidden your truck or climbed the fence, you would have used the front gate. You wouldn’t have worried about being caught there.”

“All right. So what?”

“Then that’s even more reason to take advantage of the help I’m offering. Your plans were interrupted because of me, so it’s only fair to let me make it up to you.”

He regarded her in silence for a while. He still wasn’t agreeing, but at least he wasn’t moving toward the door.

“Think about it, Cooper. You said you can go where I can’t. Well, that works both ways. I have connections, too. I can use them to check out whatever lead you discover.”

“If you mean your connections with the Latchford police,” he said, “then forget it. Oliver has to have people on the inside there.”

It pained her to admit it, but she was beginning to suspect that much herself. Her father had become so agitated at the idea the one time she’d mentioned it to him that she hadn’t brought it up again, yet she had to be realistic. Whatever the reason, the police hadn’t helped her so far. They would be even less likely to help her now that the trial was over.

She shook her head. “No, I meant the connections I have in the financial world. I worked as a forensic accountant in Chicago so I have a lot of experience following money trails. I can follow Oliver’s.”

“What good would that do?”

“We could get solid evidence of Oliver’s motive to kill Adam, which would prove my brother’s death wasn’t an accident. We might even be able to prove Oliver bribed his way to an acquittal.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “This is sounding complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Would Tony object if you worked with a partner?” she asked.

“Tony Monaco’s never been real particular about methods. He’s more interested in results.”

“Then there isn’t any good reason why we shouldn’t team up. You did say you would do whatever it takes to keep your bar.”

He turned back to the window and lifted a blind slat to look outside. “Yeah, I did say that.”

“Why can’t that include working with a Tavistock?”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

“Well?”

The silence lasted longer this time. Finally, he left the window and strode directly to where she stood. He took her by the shoulders. “If I agree to this, you’ll keep your distance from Sproule, right?”

Her heart began to pound. She wanted to think it was from what he was saying, but she knew it was more from his touch. “I’ll stay away as long as you don’t shut me out of what you’re doing.”

“Hayley—”

“I mean it, Cooper. Don’t shut me out. I want you to keep me up to date on your progress.”

He moved his palms along her shoulders to her neck. “I’ll do more than that. Once I bring you in with me, you’ll be all the way in.”

“That’s how I want it.”

“Don’t be so fast to agree, Hayley, seeing as how you cleaned up so good and all.” He touched his fingertip to the pulse at the base of her throat. “The kind of dirt you’ll be getting into now won’t be so easy to wash off.”

Cooper heard the distinctive rumble of the split carburetor well before he saw the bike’s headlight sweep past the chain-link fence to the broken gate. Nathan Beliveau was right on time, which wasn’t surprising, considering his business—he was the president of the largest courier company in the midwest. He would know about keeping schedules. But his choice of transportation was…unexpected. Cooper leaned back against the front fender of his truck and waited as the Harley Davidson coasted down the ramp into the abandoned gravel pit and slowed to a stop beside him.

The echoes of the bike’s engine faded gradually, replaced by the ticking of cooling metal. A cloud of dust tainted with exhaust floated through the headlight briefly before the beam was extinguished. The meeting place they’d agreed on was five miles out of Latchford and half a mile from the highway. The floodlight that had been mounted near the entrance when the pit had been in operation was long gone, but it was a clear night and the moon was almost full, so there was enough light to see what he needed to.

The man astride the motorcycle stretched his long legs on either side to balance the machine but made no move to get off. He could probably afford to travel by chauffeured limo, but he appeared completely at ease on the powerful bike. “You’re Webb?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Cooper made no attempt to hide his scrutiny—it would be expected. “Nice hog, Beliveau.”

“She’s a beauty, all right.” He slipped off his helmet and rested it on the gas tank in front of him. “It sure beats riding a desk.”

Cooper shifted his scrutiny from the bike to the man on it. Moonlight gleamed from his straight black hair and the sharp ridges of his cheekbones, revealing the stamp of native heritage. He would probably look just as comfortable riding bareback on an Appaloosa.

Wind rustled through the weeds that ringed the pit, muffling the distant whine of tires on the highway. Nathan lifted his face, as if testing the breeze. “Tony said you wanted televisions.”

“Know of any?”

“How about a trailer load of sixty-two-inch plasma screens?”

Cooper whistled. “That’ll do.”

“They’re at an electronics manufacturing company in Hammond where they’re scheduled for an overnight shipment to Kansas City. The pickup’s slated for ten-thirty tomorrow night. That means you should be out of there by ten.”

“Sounds good.”

“Can you handle a big rig?”

“No problem. Have you got one with a sleeper compartment?”

“There’s one at the Chicago terminal. I’ll arrange to have it parked in a rest area off the Interstate. You’ll have until seven in the morning before I’ll have to report it missing.”

Cooper calculated the time it would take him to get the truck to Hammond, do the pickup and drive back to Latchford. It would be cutting things close, especially since he would be taking detours onto secondary routes to get around the weigh stations. “I’ll have it back by then.”

“Try to keep the damage to the rig to a minimum. My insurance rates are already killing me.”

“Except for the wires, it won’t have a scratch.”

Nathan turned his head toward Cooper. His eyes were too deep-set for the moonlight to touch, making his expression inscrutable. “You better be as good as Tony said you were. I heard it’s been a few years since you did a job like this.”

“Some things you don’t forget.”

Nathan studied him. “That’s right. Some things you don’t forget.”