Witness Seduction. Elle Kennedy
smile dissolved into a frown as he thought about all the shit that had gone down three months ago. He still experienced an onslaught of rage every time he remembered what had happened in the warehouse. Damn cops. The shipment they’d intercepted had cost him millions of dollars. Not to mention that they’d officially made it impossible for him ever to live in the States again.
Tomorrow morning, he planned on driving to Tijuana to meet with a guy who was arranging the necessary papers, and he was still working on a way to contact Marley. Once he did, he could get hold of the money he’d hidden in her house. He’d stashed two hundred grand under her bathroom floor three days after he moved in; it was part of his routine—always have an exit strategy in case you need one.
And then there was the hundred grand in his and Marley’s joint account. Earlier this week a European contact who owed him money had transferred the dough in there, since the feds had frozen all of Patrick’s personal accounts and he didn’t have the resources yet to open anything new. He wasn’t sure why they’d left the joint account open—his instincts told him it was a trap—but if he could, he planned on transferring the amount to a bank in the Caymans when he secured the necessary ID papers.
Once he got the cash from Marley’s house, though, he was outta here.
And Marley was going with him.
Sure she is, came the cynical voice in his head. Women always love men who betray them.
“She does love me,” Patrick insisted, wishing he could punch that bothersome voice. “And she’ll forgive me for lying to her. Marley doesn’t stay angry at people, it’s not her way.”
He noticed the old lady staring up at him with eyes as big as saucers. Had he spoken out loud?
“She does, you know,” he said to Lydia. “Love me, I mean.”
The certainty surrounding his heart was as strong as steel, causing the worry in his gut to dissolve. Of course Marley would forgive him. She was still his. All he had to do was find a way to get to her. And once he had the cash, he was going to whisk Marley away to a place where nobody could ever tear them apart again.
3
“OKAY, SO HERE’S WHAT you’re going to do,” Gwen said, tightening the drawstring on her bright pink scrubs.
Marley flopped onto the narrow bench in the nurse’s locker room and bent down to untie her shoelaces. “What are you talking about?”
“Your neighbor.”
“You’re still hung up on this?” Marley frowned. “I told you, he’s kind of strange.”
“But you said he was cute.” Gwen grinned. “And he caught you when you did a swan dive off the roof.”
“Fine, he gets two points for that. And then minus three points for being aloof. I swear, he couldn’t wait to get away from me.”
“But you spoke to Debbie, right?”
Marley nodded. “Before I left for work. She said she and Stu did rent the house, to a writer from New York, and, yes, his name is Caleb Ford.”
“Well, there you go, he was telling the truth.”
“Yeah, but…Something about him was really off.”
“So he’s shy. Which is why you need to make a move,” Gwen answered as she tied her curly hair in a loose twist at the top of her head. “Tonight you’re going to walk next door and ask for a cup of sugar.”
Marley laughed. “No way. That’s so lame.”
“Wait, I’m not done. So you ask for the sugar, and then you bat your eyelashes and say, ‘Actually, maybe I can give you some sugar instead.’ One thing will lead to another and presto! You get laid and forget all about Patrick.”
Marley shot her friend a firm look. “I’m not going to seduce my neighbor.”
“Then at least promise to keep an open mind,” Gwen pleaded. “There’s no harm in saying hi to the guy next time you see him. Just don’t be afraid of some flirting, or heck, even a casual conversation. Oh, and could you please come out with me and Nick on Tuesday? We’re going to the salsa bar. It’ll be a good time.”
“I’ll let you know.” Marley took a step toward the locker room door. “I gotta go. My feet are killing me and I’m craving a long, hot bubble bath.”
Gwen sighed. “I hate the night shift,” she complained as she followed Marley out the door. “You’re so lucky you’re going home.”
“Yeah, to sleep,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m coming back for the graveyard shift, while you get to spend the night with your boyfriend.”
“Good point.”
They said goodbye in the hallway, and Marley headed for the elevator, her flip-flops snapping against the white linoleum floor.
When she exited the hospital, the early-evening air was warm, and she breathed it in, enjoying the fresh scent of salt and palm trees. She loved San Diego—the heat, the laid-back atmosphere, the ocean. She hadn’t been to the beach in ages, she realized as she crossed the parking lot to her car. The renovations in her house were tedious and left little time for trips to the beach.
But maybe Gwen was right. Maybe it was time to quit using her house as an excuse not to go out and have fun. God knew she needed some fun after the past year.
Before she could start the car, her cell phone burst out in the Pussycat Dolls ringtone Gwen had downloaded as a joke. Her brother’s number flashed on the screen, causing Marley to stifle a groan. Sam still hadn’t come back to finish the closet he’d half gutted, and she had a feeling she was in for another excuse.
Sighing, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”
“I wanted to touch base with you about the closet.”
“Finally. So when are you coming to finish it?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about. It’ll probably have to be at the end of the week.”
“Why not earlier?”
“No time. We’ve got a massive renovation to finish this week, kiddo.”
Marley rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me kiddo. I’m three years older than you, Sammy.”
“On paper, maybe. But in maturity, I win.”
“In your dreams.”
“See how immature you are? Only ten-year-olds say ‘in your dreams.’” He suddenly sounded contrite. “I’ll try to make it earlier, since you’re being so difficult.”
“What’s difficult is having to jump over a huge hole in the floor every time I walk down my hall,” she countered.
“I’ll fix it soon, I promise. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk this week, ’kay?”
“Hot date?” she teased.
“Yep.”
Marley grinned to herself. “Should I bother asking for her name or will she be but a mere speed bump in the road that is your love life?”
“Very poetic. And the answer is we’ll see,” Sam said mysteriously. “I’ll talk to you later, kiddo.”
They hung up, and Marley was still smiling as she started the car and left the hospital staff lot. Sam always managed to brighten her day. They hadn’t been very close growing up. He’d been the epitome of a pesky little brother, what with his unfunny pranks and that God-awful, year-long “why?” phase. Oh, and she most definitely hadn’t appreciated the time he’d squeezed purple hair dye into her shampoo bottle. Permanent hair dye. But after their mother died, they’d banded together