Tough Justice: Ambushed

Meghan’s words socked her in the gut. Meghan had to be saying that just to needle her. She barely knew the man. In fact, she didn’t know him at all, since he’d been lying from the get-go.

Had she known Andrew Moore any better?

“Meghan, don’t be so stubborn. This isn’t about you and me. These men are vicious. They’re users. Trevor Black isn’t in love. He doesn’t give a shit about you. He planned his own death, committed murder, and who knows what other atrocities he’s perpetuated? Get out. Get out now while you still can.”

“No, you get out.” Meghan jabbed her finger at the front door. “Your mother came into my life, uninvited, had you and everything went to shit after that. I didn’t want her in my life then, and I sure as hell don’t want you in my life now.”

Lara huffed out a breath. Always the same. “How can you blame me for that?”

“I lost my father because of you and your mother. Don’t you get it?”

Lara closed her eyes and unclenched her jaw. “This isn’t about the past, Meghan. It’s about the here and now. I’m trying to protect you.”

“You’re trying to get information about Trevor. This has nothing to do with protecting me.” Meghan narrowed her hazel eyes.

“So give it to me. Tell me all about Trevor.”

“Get the hell out of my place and don’t come back.”

A man shuffled into the room from the back, his dark, curly hair sticking up in all directions. “What’s going on out here?”

Lara pointed past his shoulder. “Out. This is personal.”

Meghan snorted. “There is nothing personal between us. This is business, and you’re not getting into mine.”

Meghan’s roommate held up his hands and backed up, leaving her and Meghan glaring at each other.

Meghan called after him. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Felix. My half sister was just leaving.”

“We’re not letting this go.” Lara stalked to the front door. Hanging on to the doorjamb, she turned to face her sister. “This is no joke, Meghan. Your life is in danger.”

Meghan slammed the door on her warning.

Lara slumped against the wall. How could Meghan be so pigheaded? If anyone else had told Meghan what she’d just laid out for her about her new boyfriend, she’d tell Trevor Black to hit the road in no time.

Maybe she should’ve invited Nick along. He couldn’t have had any worse luck than she just had.

She slid into the car and tipped her head against the headrest. The one bright spot in this mess was that once Mason Moretti knew they’d made him, he wouldn’t be visiting Meghan anytime soon for fear of being picked up. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to see her on the sly—and Meghan seemed only too willing to oblige him.

In love? Did Meghan actually believe she loved this man and vice versa? He must be a charmer...just like his twin brother.

Lara’s phone buzzed, and she shoved her hand in her pocket to retrieve it. She checked the display and tapped it once. “Hey, Victoria.”

“Did you talk to your sister?”

“Like banging my head against a wall.”

“Did she admit to having a relationship with Mason?”

“It’s Trevor Black, thankyouverymuch, and not only did she admit to the relationship, she admitted to falling in love.”

Victoria sucked in a breath. “She’s old enough to know better. Do you think she’s just saying that to spite you?”

“Who knows? I think so. They haven’t been seeing each other for long. Nick and I will stake out the Hot Spot tonight. With any luck Mason will come out to play.”

“Luck’s been in short supply lately. Mason probably already knows we’re on to him.”

“Most likely, but it’s worth a try.” And she wouldn’t mind a few hours of quiet time with Nick in the van.

“Speaking of luck, I have Cass contacting all old neighbors of the Morettis. The daughter of one just contacted Cass. Her mother is in an assisted living facility in Queens and is willing to talk—at least give us what she remembers.”

“That’s great. Do you want me to take it?”

“Yes. The others are busy, and Ty’s still not one hundred percent.”

“It’s tough for all of us, but Ty will get there.” Lara pulled a piece of paper and a pen from her pocket. “Give me the woman’s name and the address of the assisted living place. I’ll take a Bureau car and head over there now. Is she expecting me?”

“Yes. I knew this was one interview you wouldn’t turn down, and you’d probably want to handle it on your own.”

Lara bit her lip as she scribbled on the sheet of paper to test the pen. Her boss couldn’t be more wrong. She didn’t need to be alone to plumb the depths of the Moretti riddle. The brothers were a pair of criminals who needed to be picked apart and brought down—nothing more, nothing less.

Victoria gave her the info, and Lara punched the address into her phone’s GPS. Forty-five minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of the Briar Ridge Assisted Living Facility.

Her boots crunched the little dried berries that had fallen from the trees to the asphalt, and Lara sniffed the air. The trees that bordered the property and the autumn flowers that spilled from a front garden combined for a sweet, fresh scent.

She stepped through the front entrance into a lobby area. The blue-green color scheme and the wall fountain of running water created a soothing environment. Someone knew feng shui.

Lara nodded at the security guard and approached the front desk, staffed by a woman in green to color coordinate with the room. She looked up with a big smile that seemed totally genuine.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mrs. O’Hara. Vivian O’Hara.”

The greeter’s eyebrow lifted. “Are you a relative?”

“Mrs. O’Hara’s daughter, Diane Teller, told us that her mother was interested in talking to us.” Lara flipped open her badge. “I’m Special Agent Lara Grant.”

“One minute, please.” She held up her index finger. “I’ll locate her.”

“Thanks.” Lara turned away from the desk to watch the rivulets of water running down the glass enclosure on the wall.

“Delilah, is Viv O’Hara in the TV room or by the pool?” The woman paused. “Tell her she has a visitor.”

“Agent Grant? Mrs. O’Hara’s in the TV room. It’s across the room and then a left turn.” She tapped a guest book with a pencil. “Would you please sign in?”

Lara printed her name on the next blank line in the guest book and scribbled her signature beside it.

Once she crossed the room, Lara could hear the TV, and she followed the sound. She poked her head into the room. Before she could take one step, a tall African-American woman stopped her.