Carly Phillips - Under the Boardwalk

“Bill Riley. He heads the Psych Department at the university.” Ari brushed her hair out of her eyes.

He tried not to be affected by her full lips and disheveled, I-just-had-sex look, but failed. “Must be important for him to call so early.”

She glanced at the clock and laughed. “It’s nearly eleven. Actually it was important. He’s got a colleague subbing for me and he wanted to know how long I’d be gone so he could arrange the schedule.”

“And you told him you’d be back.” Needing distance, he rose from the bed.

“Well, I have to finish the semester…” Her voice trailed off.

“Of course you do. Just like I have to be downstairs.” So far this case was falling into place, but he never assumed anything was complete until it was time to walk away.

Being back on the job now would give him something to focus on other than the fact that he’d nearly let himself be suckered into believing he had a future with Ariana.

She didn’t say a word when, seconds later, he closed himself in the bathroom for a quick shower, all the while instructing himself to ignore the confused expression on her face and the wounded look in her eyes.

He was the one who’d taken a sucker punch this morning, not her. He’d put everything on the line for a woman and a future, in an ultimate gamble he was obviously destined to lose.

• • •

Alone in Quinn’s hotel room, Ari sat stunned by Quinn’s abrupt shift in mood from when they’d gone to bed last night to when they’d woken up this morning. She supposed he was shaken by her phone conversation, but so was she. When Ari was with Quinn, Vermont was the last thing on her mind, and that was a notion she knew she had to explore further. But first he had to finish this situation with Damon, just as Ari had unresolved family issues waiting for her when her sister came home.

Which reminded her, she needed to contact the man who was interested in taking Spank. Though she’d found him via the Internet, she’d called an old friend from high school who’d become a private investigator and he’d looked into the man’s background. Michael Peters was an animal trainer who specialized in monkeys. He was based in New Jersey and met all the requirements for owning an exotic pet-which meant he met most of Ari’s requirements. He lived close enough that Sam could visit. His resumé even said he’d owned the monkey on the television show Friends before moving from L.A. If his references checked out, he’d make a good parent for Spank, and Ari felt responsible not just for Sam’s emotional well-being but also for the monkey’s future.

She dug through her purse but couldn’t find the page she’d printed with Peters’s information. When, after her shower, she looked for her lip gloss and couldn’t find that either, she remembered dropping her purse in Damon’s office, and headed downstairs to reclaim her things. After the chilly reception this morning, she only hoped she didn’t run into Quinn.

Quinn had a splitting headache and he was in a foul mood. Putting Ari out of his mind wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped. She popped into his head when Quinn was checking on the restaurants, when he fired a hotel employee for stealing bath soap, and now again while he studied the monitors in Damon’s office.

The one bright spot was that his superiors on this job had just called in with the news-on consecutive Thursdays, the balance of the money from the counting-room tapes didn’t match the books. They had enough evidence to take Damon in and enough to obtain a warrant to search the office and seize its contents. As long as they had Damon in custody first.

Otherwise they feared someone on the inside would tip him off and he’d disappear, something they couldn’t afford. They needed Damon to roll over on the boys whose money he was laundering, the drug dealers whose cash he turned into legitimate dough. Then they’d not only take Damon down but take drugs off the streets and away from kids. Susceptible kids, like Sam. And before Quinn left undercover work behind for good, he wanted to know he’d had a hand in something that big.

He strode into the offices for what he hoped was one of the last times, and a sense of déjà vu hit him hard.

A dark-haired woman was standing by Damon’s desk, confidential information in her hand. Last time it had been casino financials; this time it was information on Zoe. Quinn had pulled the files from the safe earlier. Files chock-full of the information gleaned from whatever digging Damon had done on Ari’s sister. The only reason those pages would be incriminating for Damon was because it showed his interest in a supposedly missing woman, but Quinn had planned to give the papers to the feds in order to protect Zoe’s identity from prying eyes.

Last time it had been Zoe snooping around; this time it was Ari. At least Damon hadn’t discovered her here. Quinn didn’t care how close to finished this case was, she had no right to be in this office when he wasn’t around and no reason to be sticking her pretty nose into his business.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Quinn asked.

Ari turned around fast. Obviously stunned, her eyes opened wide, her cheeks flushed, and her hand flew to her chest. “You startled me.”

“Answer my question. What the hell are you doing in here, with private papers in your hands, no less?” He stepped closer, meaning to scare her.

“I’d like an answer to that as well.”

This time Quinn was startled as Damon walked into the room, his early return taking Quinn off guard.

Ari opened and then closed her mouth, probably unsure which angry man to deal with first. In her eyes, he saw how petrified she was by Damon’s return.

She had every right to be scared, Quinn thought, turning to his boss. “What are you doing back so early? Lover’s quarrel?” he asked.

Damon wasn’t amused and his lips pulled into a thin, narrow line. “I cut my trip short because a smart man trusts no one.”

Though Quinn had heard that line many times before, never had it sounded so ominous. “Trouble in paradise?” Quinn asked, still attempting to keep things light as he figured out the other man’s agenda.

Damon shrugged. “Cynthia wanted to see where I worked.”

“I thought you went with Roxanne?”

“She had a family emergency and had to fly home. Cynthia wanted to see my family jewels.” Damon gestured around the casino but the double entendre was obvious.

“I see,” Quinn said. “And once you got here, you gave her some cash to play with and told her you’d see her later?” he said, using Damon’s standard M.O. He obviously hadn’t given the woman a tour or someone would have informed Quinn he was back. Over the weekend, the influx of new guests had included undercover federal agents.

“Exactly. And then I came here to check on you, and what do I find? That one twin is no better than the other.” He shook his head. “You disappoint me, Professor Costas. I thought you were smarter.”

Ari sucked in a loud breath at the realization that Damon probably hadn’t forgotten he’d found her in his private domain.

“You’re wrong, boss. This one’s just a bored professor.” He jerked a thumb toward Ari. “Just look at her pathetic attempt to fit the part of the sexy siren.” He snorted in disgust. “She’s nothing like her twin.”

Quinn struggled not to glance Ari’s way, forcing himself to act like he didn’t care about her feelings or how he was deliberately playing on her insecurities and weaknesses to save her from Damon’s fury. “Hell, she might be a bookworm, but she doesn’t have the street smarts to be a fed.” He shook his head and forced a laugh. “She couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag, let alone get in your way.”

“Oh, really?” Damon asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “Then why did she have private files in her hand?”

“Natural curiosity,” Ari said quickly.

“Stupidity,” Quinn muttered at the same time.

She shot him a scathing glare, proving she wasn’t too frightened to be offended. Once again he admired her grit. She was more like the sister she claimed not to know than she gave herself credit for.

Quinn decided to go for broke and play Damon for all he could. There was no other way to save Ari. “It’s my fault she found the papers. I heard whispers of feds sniffing around and I pulled your file on her sister so I could destroy it,” he lied. “I got called to the casino before I could take care of things and left it on the desk in plain view.”

“She knows too much,” Damon insisted.

It didn’t escape Quinn’s notice that the man showed no shock at the mention of the FBI.

Quinn shook his head. “Actually she doesn’t know a damn thing-unless you tell her now,” he said pointedly. They both knew those files did not indicate what Damon thought had happened to Zoe. Nobody reading it, including Ari, could ever use it as proof that Damon had plotted Zoe’s demise.

Damon narrowed his gaze, clearly contemplating his options. “How long was she in here alone? Better yet, why was she in here alone?”

“Stupidity,” Quinn said again.

“Lipstick,” Ari said in a hoarse voice. “I dropped my purse earlier when I came to see Quinn. You see, I missed him and wanted… a quickie.”

Quinn winced at her attempt to explain her actions.

“He told me it had to wait,” Ari rambled on. “But not before I tried to distract him.” Her voice grew more sultry, more confident as she tried to convince Damon she’d attempted to seduce Quinn earlier. “But he said not while he was working.” She forced a pretty pout.

Quinn couldn’t help but watch and listen in amusement.

“I’d given it my best shot though, and so I still needed to fix my lipstick before I went back out to the customers. I dropped my bag and the lipstick must have rolled out. See?” She held up the tube of gloss for Damon to see.

“Convenient,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his clean-shaven face. “But I’m not taking any chances. Not with her and not with you,” he said, turning to Quinn.

Catching Quinn by surprise, he reached into his jacket and pulled a gun and trained it on Ari.

A startled cry escaped her throat, but Quinn didn’t take his gaze from Damon.

Under his breath, Quinn muttered a curse. His gun was in his holster at his side, but reaching for it now would give Damon a chance to fire fast. “Two sisters can’t disappear from here without drawing suspicion. You’d be the likely culprit,” Quinn said, trying to slow Damon down and make him think.

Warning bells went off in Quinn’s head, instead. Reality clicked into place. Damon’s surprise return, his lack of shock at federal interest, his sudden distrust of Quinn, and the careless order to take care of Ari told Quinn one thing-someone had tipped off Damon to trouble and now he was running scared, reacting without thinking things through.

Still, Damon obviously didn’t know who in his organization was working against him or he’d have put a bullet through Quinn’s head by now. The thought provided some comfort. The other man was testing him instead, giving him needed time.

With the gun still pointed at Ari, Damon propped a foot on the desk and withdrew a handgun from a hidden holster. “The entire time I was with Cynthia, something was bothering me and I finally figured out what it was.” He leveled the other gun at Quinn. “I violated my cardinal rule.”

“What’s that?”

“I put you in charge of keeping this beautiful lady busy and you were too happy to oblige. But the more I thought about you and Zoe’s twin, the more I thought about Zoe. And I realized I never saw her body. That was my mistake. I trusted you, Donovan, and a smart man trusts no one.”

Quinn remained silent.

“It’s time for some action. Prove yourself.” Without warning, Damon tossed the first gun to Quinn. “Get rid of her.”

A small squeak sounded from Ari’s corner of the room.

“Get rid of her,” Damon said again. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Until now Quinn’s best bet had been to stall and talk Damon through this, all the while hoping Ari remained calm while Quinn waited for the opportunity to overpower the other man. There was always the slim hope that someone on the floor would get wind of Damon’s return and head on back here to check things out. But Quinn wasn’t counting on it.

He needed another plan and he needed one fast, especially since he was now Damon’s target.

Ari glanced from Damon to Quinn, unable to believe this was happening. She let her gaze settle on Quinn, who hadn’t broken a sweat, but who also now had a gun pointed directly at her heart.

“I don’t think you want a blood trail in your office,” Quinn said coolly to Damon.

“What’s the difference to me?” Damon asked. “You’ll be the one pulling the trigger. You can call it a lover’s quarrel, or the three of us can take a ride somewhere and you can do the job there. It’s all the same to me, but either way, I’m going to see this one’s dead body.” Damon’s voice dropped an octave and turned as cold as his words. “Or you’ll be the one on ice.”