Death is Not Enough (Romantic Suspense #21)

Thorne nodded again, because he’d been thinking the same thing. ‘Let’s start at the top. Darian Hinman was Richard’s best friend and he doesn’t live too far away.’

‘We’ve been instructed by Clay to remain with you, rendering assistance where necessary,’ Alec told them. ‘Clay wants this whole mess settled so he doesn’t have to worry about Stevie getting shot at again. We’ll take you wherever you want to go. That way the Fed tailing you only has to chase one vehicle.’

‘I’m sure he’d be grateful,’ Thorne said dryly. ‘But we’ll take Gwyn’s car.’ Because there was no way he was making these kids a target. ‘Thanks, guys. I do appreciate your help. I just hate that I’m putting you in harm’s way.’

Ford shrugged and started the van. ‘Sooner we clear this up, the better for all of us.’

‘And don’t worry about trying to lose us,’ Alec added with a smirk. ‘I have the address from Clay. He got it from Frederick, who got it from Jamie.’

‘Of course he did.’ But even as he sighed the words, his throat closed up. He was so damn grateful that he had these people, people who cared.

Please don’t let them get hurt, he prayed. Please don’t let anyone else die.

Chevy Chase, Maryland,

Tuesday 14 June, 7.05 P.M.

‘Wow,’ Gwyn breathed as Thorne drove them around a perfectly landscaped bend at the end of the long driveway leading to the home of Darian Hinman. ‘We’re never going to get to him for even a hello. These are the kind of people who have butlers and maids and valets who say “sir” and put your socks on for you.’

Thorne chuckled, just as she’d hoped he would. His hands loosened their death grip on the steering wheel, at least a little. ‘I hope I’d think of something better for them to do than put my socks on for me.’

He pulled the car up to the front of the mansion, which was lined with actual pillars, like it was some antebellum antique. It might actually be, Gwyn thought, taking the place in. It had a rolling front lawn where honest-to-god peacocks strolled without a care.

‘I wonder if Hinman’s butler cleans up after those damn peacocks,’ Thorne said dryly. ‘Talk about fucking pretentious.’

She nodded. ‘Pretentious. That’s the word I was looking for. I keep expecting women in hoop skirts with parasols to come round the house any minute. Is this joint as old as it looks?’

‘Yep. Property records say the main house was built in 1851. It’s been in Hinman’s family from day one.’ He glanced up to his rear-view mirror, frowning slightly at the sight of Ford and Alec approaching in their van. The black SUV with Joseph’s hand-picked agent brought up the rear.

‘Alec and Ford are not going to leave you,’ Gwyn murmured. ‘You’re going to have to be okay with it.’

‘No, I don’t have to be okay with it,’ he snapped. ‘I might not be able to make them leave, but I don’t have to be okay with it.’

‘Fair enough.’ She cast her gaze up at the three-story mansion. ‘I find myself admiring this place kind of against my will.’ She glanced at Thorne. ‘Does that make me a bad person?’

‘No.’ He reached over to cup her jaw. ‘It’s a beautiful structure. Does that mean you want a place like this, maybe even a little?’

Gwyn laughed, but leaned into his touch. ‘No way. That’s way too many toilets to clean.’

He leaned over the center console to brush a kiss against her cheek. ‘That’s what I’d get the butlers and maids to do. I have to say, you’d look awfully pretty in one of those fancy dresses with your hair done up like that. Princessy.’

She blushed. ‘Stop making fun of me,’ she mumbled.

‘You think that?’ He tugged her chin until she faced him. ‘I was being serious. When you came out of that salon today, you took my breath away.’

She smiled at him, pleasure lighting up her dark blue eyes. ‘Thank you.’

He kissed her forehead, then let her go. ‘I don’t suppose you’d stay in the car or go wait in the SUV with Joseph’s guy?’

‘No and no. His name is Detective Rivera, by the way.’

‘Don’t want to know,’ he grunted as he extracted himself from Gwyn’s small car. ‘Don’t want to get attached to them in case they get hurt.’

‘I suppose that’s fair too,’ Gwyn allowed. ‘But remember his name, just in case you need to speak to him.’

‘I’ll answer to just about anything,’ the detective in question said as he approached. ‘Agent Carter said I should accompany you on this visit.’

‘So I don’t punch Darian Hinman in the nose?’ Thorne challenged.

‘No,’ Gwyn said. ‘So I don’t punch him in the nose.’ Because she wanted to. This was one of the Neanderthals who’d beaten Thorne all those years ago. Beaten him and kicked him until he could barely walk. ‘Asshole.’

Rivera grinned. ‘If you do punch him, I’ll have to take you in and Joseph will have you confined. He told me to tell you that.’

Thorne rolled his eyes. ‘And your obedience was such a hardship.’

‘Nope,’ Rivera said cheerfully. ‘I wanted to say that.’ He looked over his shoulder at Alec and Ford, who wore amused looks. ‘You can stay in the van if you want, guys.’

‘Nope,’ Alec mimicked, just as cheerfully. ‘Our boss told us to stick close, just like yours did. Shall we?’

Gwyn led the way, watching the sidewalk for gaps in the mortar that would destroy the heels on her newest shoes. Thorne was at her side seconds later, though.

‘Do not get separated from me,’ he commanded.

‘Fine. But I still say we’re never gonna get past the butler.’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Rivera said, more seriously. ‘I’ve got a badge.’

Well, at least he’ll be good for something. Then she abandoned the thought to enjoy the front garden before they knocked on that grand front door. The hedges lining the walkway had that wonderful old-garden smell that tickled her nose, making her smile.

‘What?’ Thorne asked, looking down at her with a fond smile of his own.

‘The hedges. My aunt had them in her garden in Baltimore.’

‘The aunt you named your part of Sheidalin for?’ he asked, and it took her a second to remember that she’d said as much on Sunday evening when the group had met in her apartment to strategize.

‘Yes,’ she said, stiffly now, and he frowned. He hadn’t believed her Sunday night either. She’d seen it in his face as she’d studied him in the mirror on her living room wall. She saw it now and was grateful to be coming up to the front door.

With any luck, he’d be sidetracked enough that he’d forget about the question. But you do have to tell him about Aidan sooner versus later.

Yes, but later. Much later. When she’d gotten used to this new thing they had going and had more stable ground beneath her feet. Then she’d confess her deepest regret.

She drew one more deep breath, wanting the calming scent of the hedges. But what she drew in was the antithesis of calming. What she drew in was the antithesis of life. Oh God, she thought as queasiness rolled through her stomach.

‘Fuck,’ Thorne muttered. ‘Not again.’ He turned to Rivera. ‘Do you smell it? Something or someone is very dead in there.’

One look at Rivera’s face answered that question. He was already reaching for his radio. ‘I’m your alibi. You’re welcome. Go wait in your vehicles, please.’

Gwyn was only too happy to comply. Backing away, she covered her mouth with her hand, desperately needing fresh air and trying not to gag. She found herself being supported by Alec and Ford, each young man taking one of her arms.

‘Dammit, I hate that smell,’ Ford muttered.

‘I, on the other hand, love it,’ Alec said sarcastically. ‘Fuck, Ford. Everyone hates that smell.’

Back at the car, Gwyn drew in huge lungfuls of fresh air. Thorne was still standing next to Rivera as the detective called in the obviously dead something on the other side of the door. Whoever or whatever it was, it had been dead for some time.

Gwyn could only hope Thorne had an alibi for that time too.





Eighteen


Hunt Valley, Maryland,

Tuesday 14 June, 7.30 P.M.