Midnight Run

“I lost any decency I might have had the day they put me in a cage.”

“Maybe you should have considered the consequences before you committed murder.”

He raked a shaking hand through his hair. “I’m sure this is going to throw a wrench into your undying faith in the criminal justice system, but I didn’t kill Evan. Someone set me up. The money. The gun. The bogus witnesses. I tried to tell you—”

“I’ve heard this before. I didn’t believe it then—I don’t believe it now. Nothing has changed since your trial.”

“Everything has changed,” he said quietly. “I can prove it now, but I need some time to do it.”

The night of the murder skittered through her mind. She winced with pain, then fury rumbled through her with such force she felt it all the way to her belly. She wasn’t a violent person, but she wanted to hurt him. He’d caused her so much pain. He’d taken so much away from her. First her heart. Then her brother.

“You were his partner, for God’s sake. He trusted you. I trusted you.” The need to strike out nearly overpowered her, but she maintained control if only by a thread. “I’d have to be insane to believe anything you say now.”

“I thought you might want to hear the truth,” he said. “I never had you pegged as a hypocrite, but Lord knows I’ve been wrong about you in the past. You claim to love the law so much. Maybe you believe in your beloved laws when it’s convenient. When they suit your needs. When it’s easy. Or maybe you hide behind justice when you’re not brave enough to face the truth.”

The words sliced her like a blade. It outraged her that he would take the one thing she truly believed in and use it to manipulate her. “It was your revolver that killed Evan. You took money from a known criminal. Two witnesses placed you at the murder scene. What am I supposed to believe with such overwhelming evidence staring me in the face?”

“You of all people should know the truth isn’t always handed over on a platter,” he said. “Reality isn’t that neat.”

“Don’t preach to me about reality. Of the two of us I’d say I’m a hell of a lot more grounded in reality than you. Damn it, Jack, what were you thinking breaking out of prison?”

As if the weight of the world suddenly settled on his shoulders, he sagged against the wall. The unpredictable light went out of his eyes, and Landis felt a new kind of tension tighten in her chest. For an instant he looked incredibly vulnerable, as if the odds stacked against him had finally worn him down and crushed him.

An alarm trilled in her head when she saw fresh blood coming through his shirt. He looked pale and shaken, but far too dangerous to touch. Like a snarling, wounded animal.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“I’ve got worse problems than that.”

For a fleeting instant she wanted to reach out and offer comfort. Just as quickly, she shoved the notion away, telling herself that caring for him would not only be self-destructive, but dangerous. He was no longer a detective with the Salt Lake City Police Department. He was no longer a free man. And he was certainly no longer the man who’d stolen her heart.

Jack LaCroix was a cold-blooded murderer.

“Don’t shut me out, Landis.” He reached out with his uninjured arm and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. “At least listen to me. Hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.”

Angered by the contact, she slapped his hand away. She knew better than to trust him. He’d lied to her, taken her heart and torn it to shreds, then proceeded to turn her life upside down. She refused to put herself on the line again. Certainly not for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to do it all over again.

“You could have left the country, Jack. What could you possibly want from me?” The instant the words were out she regretted them, realized she didn’t want to know.

“You’re the only person I know who gives a damn about the truth,” he said. “At least you used to.”

He stood so close she could smell the sweat and dirt and the lingering redolence of panic. His gaze pierced her so that she couldn’t look away. If she hadn’t known better, Landis might have been taken in. His bedroom eyes and whiskey-smooth voice could be very convincing. But she’d learned the hard way that he was a capable liar and master manipulator. She wasn’t foolish enough to fall into the same trap a second time.

“I can’t help you,” she said. “I won’t.”

Jack flinched, closed his eyes briefly. He looked miserable. Cold. Dirty. She watched, stunned, as a single drop of blood rolled off his fingertips and splattered on the floor. That he didn’t notice told her a lot about his frame of mind.

“You’ve got to turn yourself in,” she said.

Something dark flickered behind his eyes. “I’m a dead man if I go back.”

“By the looks of you, you’re not far from that now. For God’s sake, you were under appeal. How could you be so stupid—”

“Duke put a contract on me.”

The words stopped her cold. Cyrus Duke was Salt Lake City’s most infamous drug kingpin. With roots running from Miami’s seedy underworld to his hierarchy in Los Angeles, he was powerful, ruthless and completely untouchable.

“Why would Duke put a hit on you?” she asked.

“He knows I’m going to take him down.”

“You’re not a cop anymore. You weren’t a threat to him in prison. You’re certainly not a threat now.”

“As long as I’m alive, I’m a threat. He knows I’m close to getting the goods to nail him.”

Landis didn’t buy it. She wouldn’t even consider it. The repercussions were too far-reaching. Jack had every reason in the world to lie; she had every reason in the world not to believe him. “I’m not going to let you do this to me,” she said.

“I’m going to nail him, Landis. I’m on to something big. I’m so close I can taste it. I just need a few hours to pull myself together. I need some dry clothes. Food. Money.”

A hundred questions rushed through her mind, but they were jumbled by emotions and memories and the cold, hard fact that she didn’t want to get involved. “As an attorney, the only advice I can give you is to turn yourself in.”

One side of his mouth curved. “Not my style, Red.”

The endearment affected her, reached into her and touched a part of her heart she’d carelessly left unguarded. A heart that had once belonged to him—no holds barred. She cursed him for having that ability. She cursed herself for responding, wondering what kind of a person that made her. How could she feel anything but disdain for the man who killed her brother?

“You’ll only make things worse if you don’t go back,” she said.

“Things can’t get any worse.”

“Things can always get worse. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Worried about me?”

She stared at him, aware that her pulse was racing, that she didn’t have an answer.

Jack sighed. “Look, I can give you Cyrus Duke, but I need some help.”

Landis stomped the quick flare of interest. “I’m not naive enough to risk everything I’ve ever worked for on the word of a convicted murderer.”

“You don’t have to be naive to listen to the facts.”

“You murdered my brother. I won’t help you. And I’ll never forgive you. My loyalty runs deeper than that.”

“What do you know about loyalty?” Though his voice remained calm, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “If I recall, you were pretty quick to turn tail and run when the going got rough.”

“Loyalty to my family—not you! You don’t deserve loyalty. You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“What about loyalty to Evan? Don’t you want to know what really happened? Don’t you want to know who really murdered him? Or do you prefer sweeping the entire mess under the rug so you don’t have to get those pretty hands of yours dirty? So you can get on with playing Lady Justice? Isn’t that what they call you these days?”