Forgotten Sins

Chapter 22

Shane sat on the rough porch step and threw rocks across the field, his mind spinning. Thunder rolled across the sky, a perfect match for his mood. Josie had meant the words—she really was finished with him. Maybe it was for the best.

The idea of losing her ripped him apart, and the thought of betraying his brothers sliced deep. Why would staying married betray his brothers? Because it added that much danger to all of them—especially to him. As brothers, they’d always been each other’s weak spots. He shook his head. This was all so fucked up.

The sky opened up, and rain slashed down.

Nathan stalked up from the forest, casting a large shadow. He’d been walking all day.

Shane stretched out his legs. Irritation heated through him. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Out.” Nathan glanced up at the clouds covering the moon. “My red-eye leaves in an hour, and I thought I’d grab my laptop.”

“Good idea,” Shane snapped.

Nathan lifted an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No.” Shane’s hands curled into fists.

Nathan stomped dirt off his boots, squishing wet leaves. “Out with it, Shane.”

Shane bounded to his feet and into the deluge. “My memories aren’t all the way back, but you’ve always been a bossy bastard, haven’t you?”

Nathan’s eyelids slowly rose, while his chin lowered. “Watch yourself, little brother. That head injury gives you some leeway, but not much.”

“Screw you.” Frustration needed an outlet, and Shane was looking at a good one.

Nathan slowly removed his coat, folded it, and set it inside the SUV, his gaze never leaving Shane. Rain matted his hair to his head. “What’s your fucking problem?” Curiosity, not heat, rode his deep voice.

Shane eyed his brother. “Oh, you’re so damn calm, so uncaring, aren’t you?” The instant flare in Nate’s eyes pleased him. Instinct told Shane just where to strike. “You can’t keep a woman, so nobody gets one? Really?”

Nathan smiled, and his fist shot out.

The right cross threw Shane against the porch railing. Satisfaction welled through him along with the pain. “That’s what I thought.” He ducked his head and charged his brother, hitting him in the midsection. Metal crunched when they crashed into the wet Jeep.

He shot a hard punch into Nate’s jaw.

Nate’s head snapped back, and he rolled them over, straddling Shane. Wet pine needles coated his neck. Two hard punches to the face, and Shane saw stars.

Damn it.

He shoved Nathan off and pushed to his feet, kicking Nate in the chest. His brother rolled backward and flipped to his feet.

Shane stepped back and then settled his stance.

Nate wiped blood off his mouth. “No matter how hard you hit, or how hard I hit you, the pain won’t go away. Deal with it.”

The ring of truth made Shane see red. He rushed forward in a tackle, and Nathan fell back, tossing him over his head. Shane twisted, turned, and moved to tackle again, only to run smack into Matt.

No expression sat on Matt’s hard face. Nathan spat blood on the leaves behind him.

Shane backed up. Rain drenched his clothes.“Get out of my way.”

Matt’s eyebrow rose. “Why? You’re mad at yourself, not at Nate.”

Nate stepped to the side. “That’s all right, Mattie. I don’t mind beating some sense into this jackass.”

Matt cut a hard look at Nate. “Knock it off.”

Nate faltered and then sighed. “Fine.”

Shane snarled. “Always the obedient soldier, aren’t you?”

The punch to the jaw from Matt caught him by surprise and hurt like hell. “I said, knock it off.” Matt nodded toward Nate. “Get your stuff, and get to the airport.”

Nate eyed Shane. “We can’t leave it like this.”

“We’ll deal with this later. For now, we’re under a deadline.” Matt turned back toward Shane. “Now, Nate.”

Grumbling, Nate turned and hustled toward the cabin.

Shane stepped to the side. He had to make his brother see reason. “Nate? This will all work out, you know.”

Nate slowly turned, a massive man standing in the rain, pure regret in his dark eyes. “We’ll go down fighting, Shane. That’s always been the plan.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, sending droplets flying.

“I know. We’ll win the fight,” Shane said.

Nate shook his head. “The fight ends bloody, and the fight ends sad. I’m sorry.” He moved into the cabin.

Shane frowned. “Is he right?”

Matt kicked a rock out of the way. “Probably.”

“He always does just what you say.” Was Nate a soldier or a brother?

Matt sighed. Emotion darkened his eyes. “Our childhood shapes us. Nate learned the hard way that orders matter—and that most things end bloody and sad.”

“Someday you’re going to have to explain that to me.”

Matt pinned Shane with a hard glare. “Fighting each other doesn’t help.”

Shane shuffled his feet. “He hit me first.”

Matt barked out a laugh. “We’re not teenagers. You’re fighting because you can’t figure out your life. And if you’re still standing, Nate seriously pulled his punches.”

So had Shane. “I know.” His chest hurt. He glanced down at his bloody knuckles. “Do you think he’s right? Does Josie make me weak?”

“Yes.” Matt shoved his hands in his pockets, allowing the rain to beat down on him. “And no.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Anybody you love is a weakness the commander will use. That’s how they kept us in line for so long—they used the threat of death over a brother.” Matt wiped rain off his face. “They’ll use Josie.”

Desperation felt like knives slicing his gut. “I can keep her safe.”

“Maybe. What about in three months when the chips activate?” Matt stepped wearily up the stairs. “Or when we finally find them and die taking them out?”

Shane stilled. “You don’t think we’ll find the code in time?”

Matt turned. “No. Where does that leave Josie then?” He shook his head. “Let her go, make her believe you’re letting her go so everyone else believes it, too. If you love her, you’ll let her find a life.” He opened the door. “We need to get to work now.” Slipping inside, he shut the door.

Shane stood in the rain, his thoughts swirling. What the hell was he going to do?

He’d left her alone. Given her space. While she’d slept in the big bed last night, Shane had worked with Matt on the computer. Trying to figure out where he’d been the last two years. Didn’t those men ever need sleep? Josie tapped her heel on the floorboard of her Toyota, refusing to look at her husband in the driver’s seat. God forbid he let her drive her own car.

A new hardness cut lines into the sides of his mouth. “We’ll go in and get the files, angel. Then we leave.”

She continued her study of the trees outside. She felt numb inside. “No. I have thirty clients, Shane. I need to work.” Especially since it now appeared her new life was permanent. Without him.

The SUV bounced along deep potholes. “I’m not completely unreasonable.” He ignored her snort of disbelief and continued, “I understand your job. If you need to finish up with your current clients, we can work something out.” Deep, sincere, and so full of compromise, his voice pissed her off beyond belief.

“We have nothing to work out.” Once he left, she’d be fine. And alone. So alone. She rubbed chilled arms.

“Listen, I’m trying to compromise here. If I had my way, you’d be secured at the cabin right this second. You said you needed to wrap things up at work, and I’m going against my instincts in agreeing.” Shane reached forward and flicked on the heater. He cleared his throat. “I actually remember my childhood. All of it.”

She stilled. “How?”

A masculine exhale filled the vehicle. “Matt. Once he started talking, memories came flooding back. So many.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “My first mission was to assassinate a drug dealer in New York.”

Her breath caught. Did she really want to know this? “How old were you?”

“Twelve.” His inflection didn’t change.

So young. Josie straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t want the details. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Shit, no.” His voice softened. “There are things you shouldn’t know. Things I can protect you from. Please let me.”

The entreaty from such a strong man tempted her far too much. Though the pedestal he wanted to trap her on wasn’t a good fit. “I can’t be the helpless girl you want hiding behind you.” The scenario wasn’t what he needed, either. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “I trained you to fight, darlin’. Of course I don’t want you helpless.” His grip tightened. “Speaking of which… why haven’t you kept up the training?”

“I didn’t want to.” She wanted to live peacefully, and there was only so much time in the day. It was either yoga or karate… and she’d chosen peace.

“Your training will continue starting tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t.” He had lost his place in her life and didn’t get to dictate any of it. She folded her hands in her lap. “Do you remember where you’ve been the last two years?”

His arms stretched out, showcasing solid biceps and granite hard muscles. “No. Matt’s going to try some deep relaxation methods with me tonight.”

Deep relaxation? “You mean, like hypnotism?” Was Matt a psychologist?

“Yeah, something like that. Our training in interrogation includes more than dishing out pain.” Shane turned from the dirt road onto asphalted county road. “Methods exist to get information from friends as well as enemies.”

She cleared her throat. “So, ah, interrogation. A specialty of yours, right?” Darn her curiosity. The thought was so far out of her realm of experience, and somehow, even though she wasn’t proud about it, the thought of Shane being so tough intrigued her.

He shook his head. “Don’t romanticize the idea.” Thunder rolled high above them. “ ‘Interrogation’ is a military euphemism for torture.” He sighed. “And yeah, I’m good at it.”

“Why did you marry me?” Her lungs seized. She hadn’t meant to ask that question.

The empty road before them kept his gaze. “You made me believe I could have a life. A good one. Someday.” He turned his head, his eyes a stormy gray. “The idea of not marrying you hurt more than any pain I’d ever felt.” He glanced back at the road, the profile of his rugged face so strong. So enduring. “I don’t think you’re weak, sweetheart. I think you’re kind… and good.” He shifted in his seat.

So much longing. Something in her broke free. With her words the day before, she’d wanted to hurt him. Not only that, she’d needed to know that she could hurt him—that she mattered that much to him. How screwed up was that? “I don’t think I can try again.”

His lip twisted. “I know. But always remember that you’re strong, baby. So strong.” He pulled onto the interstate toward the city. “Steel wrapped in flower petals.”

His acceptance hurt, even with such sweet words. Too bad they were way too late. Plus, the man didn’t make sense. “Then why do you try so hard to stand in front of me?”

He whirled toward her, his hands sure on the wheel, his speed steady. “Because you’re mine.” His dark hair flew when he shook his head. “I’ve never had much, but what I do have, I protect. With everything I am.” He focused back on the road. “Even if we’re not together.”

Holy crap. He was agreeing to leave her. The hurt almost doubled her over—even though that’s what she wanted. She shook her head. Too much to deal with right now.

Shane exited the highway, driving toward her building downtown. He pulled into the lot and cut the engine. “What are the rules today?”

How irritating. “Don’t speak to me like I work for you. I don’t.”

He licked his lips, wiping the bottom one off with his thumb and forefinger.

Heat swirled in her abdomen. She fought a groan.

He pinned her with a hard gaze. “This isn’t a job. If you can’t do this right, if you can’t follow my lead, we’ll go back to the cabin.”

“Don’t threaten me.” She turned to grab the door handle, stopping only when he wrapped one hand around her upper arm.

He yanked her across the seat to settle on his legs. “My way. No other choice.” His hand tightened, and his voice roughened. “Agree or we go.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand, holding her in place on his lap, his Southern drawl breaking free.

A soldier’s intensity filled the cab. She met his gaze, biting her lip to keep from speaking. As patient as any stalking predator, he waited. She knew him. He could and would wait all day. Struggling would be a useless endeavor. “Fine.”

His cheek creased as if he might smile. “What are the rules today?”

He drove her crazy. She rolled her eyes. “We go to my office. I meet with clients in my office. I don’t leave my office unless you’re with me.”

“Where will I be?”

“Either in my office or in the waiting area if I’m meeting with a client.”

“Good.” His drawl deepened. “What happens if you disregard any of these rules?”

Enough of this crap. “Well, last time I followed my own path, I ended up stumbling over a dead body with a rabid jerk breaking down Sheetrock to get to me. So I’d rather not think about it.”

Shane’s long fingers caressed the side of her face. “Ah, Josie. That’s nothing compared to what you’ll face from me if you put yourself in danger again.”

She shivered with desire. From any other man the threat would be silly, but from Shane. Well now. Sexual. Damn if her panties didn’t moisten in response. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He tugged her out of the driver’s side, keeping her tucked against his body through the lot and to the elevator. Once at her floor, he followed her to her office, dropping onto a guest chair. “Why don’t you hand me the Fuller Lab files?”

She couldn’t help but blanch as she slid into her seat. “I can’t give you those files right here in my office.” Did he want her to get fired or what? She’d agreed to help him find out what happened to his brother, and then he needed to leave her for good this time. “I mean, I shouldn’t even remove them from the office tonight and let you see them. The lab is a client and has a right to confidentiality.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Exasperation had her grabbing a pencil too tightly. “I know. What if you’re wrong?” Her jaw firmed. “In the time you spent betraying me and spying on the lab, did you find anything off?”

His jaw snapped shut. “No, and I wasn’t betraying you.”

“Right.” She punched up her computer. “I’ll bring the files with me tonight, and you can take a look. But that’s as good as you’re going to get.”

Vicki poked her head in the office. “You have a full calendar today, boss.” She grinned. “Can you say quarterly tax time?’ ” Her gaze wandered across Shane’s impressive form before she looked back at Josie. “The officers of Hanson Industries are first, and they brought three boxes of receipts.” She wrinkled her nose. “They even want to write off a trip to a strip club.”

Josie sighed. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Shane nodded, stretching to his feet. “That’s my cue. I’ll be in the lobby. Keep in mind our discussion.”

Which one? Once again, her mind was filled with Shane Dean.

The potato soup Josie had eaten for lunch lumped in her stomach. She stretched her neck, awaiting yet another client. Talk about stressed out. Plus, the warning glare from her husband hadn’t eased any of her clients’ minds as he had dropped by her office several times, poking his scowling face in the doorway. She was going to kill him when this day was finished.

Daniel stalked by her doorway, halting suddenly to lean against her door frame. “Rough day?”

She was too tired to spar. “Yes.”

He nodded, his dark eyes serious. “I meant it about helping if you need help. Believe it or not, I do understand the concept of teamwork.” Amusement lifted his upper lip.

Josie grinned. “That’s good to know. Though I still want the promotion.”

He nodded, the grin widening. “Ditto. But either way, I’m here if you need help.”

“Thanks.” Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy.

“Anytime.” He turned, whistling as he maneuvered back to his office.

Josie flipped back open the file folder for Hall’s Funeral Home. Something was just plain and simple bothering her about these accounts, and she couldn’t figure out what. The client had purchased several different types of coffins from different vendors, and the information was all misfiled.

She carefully cataloged them in the right place and then subtracted the costs from the operating budget. Days ago she’d meant to do so, but since she’d already thought she’d found the problem, she’d concentrated elsewhere. And of course, between finding bodies, being kidnapped, and trying to figure out her life… she’d been busy.

The number flashed on her calculator. There was a surplus of thirteen thousand dollars.

Exactly.

The exact amount that had been missing from Larson Corporation. Son of a bitch. She double-checked the figure, her mind spinning. Yep. Unlucky thirteen. Billy had been laundering money throughout several businesses. She hadn’t thought to compare the different accounts to each other. Excitement sped up her breath. She could solve this.

Vicki escorted a young woman inside. “Mrs. Ager from Agers Hardware is here.”

Josie took a deep breath, closing the file. She’d figure it out after the meeting.

She stood, a genuine smile sliding across her face. Hopefully Billy hadn’t stolen from Agers. But chances were looking good that he had. Should she tell her client or wait until she had it all figured out? She definitely had a duty to inform the client. Man, she was going to get the firm sued. “Madge. It’s good to see you.”

Madge grinned back, wiping her hands down dark jeans and taking a seat. “Thanks for seeing me. I’m not sure about taxes and whether or not we can write off the trip we took back East.” She’d pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail, and her face was free of makeup. Her husband, Sam, had inherited the family business along with his brother about two years ago. “You know we have to do everything just right since Sam’s brother is a prosecutor who owns half of the business.” Bloodshot brown eyes glanced at the walls. “Oh, I like your horse painting.”

“Thanks.” Western art had always been one of her interests. “So did you bring receipts?”

“Yes.” Madge dug into a large backpack, yanking out a stack of tattered receipts. “Uh, they’re not in order.”

“That’s okay.” Compared to the tattered papers from the strip club earlier, these were pristine. Josie tapped them into a neat pile. She needed to find the right words to tell Madge about the discrepancies in the files.

“So”—Madge leaned forward—“I, uh, have a weird question for you.”

So long as it didn’t deal with strippers or writing off golf clubs, it wouldn’t be the weirdest question of the day. “Fire away.”

Madge cleared her throat. “Hypothetically, if Sam and I split, do I get half the business?”

Josie sat back, mind whirling. The tick-tock of the antique clock on her desk sharpened. “Oh, Madge. Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Madge crossed her legs and settled into the seat. “But a girl should always plan.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Josie smoothed hair away from her face. “Well, the short answer is no. Washington is a community property state. An inheritance is separate—not community—property, and since Sam inherited his half of the business, it’s technically not yours.”

Madge grimaced. “Yeah, that figures.” She rolled her neck. “So did they find out who broke into your offices?”

“No, not yet.” Josie kept waiting for the phone to ring or the police to show up. Somebody had to have discovered Billy by now. Didn’t a body start to smell really bad at some point? Not that he hadn’t already smelled.

Josie focused on Madge, trying to forget that terrible day. “But I want to reassure you that your file was with me that night, as was my laptop, so nobody obtained your financial records.”

“Thank goodness.” Madge leaned back with a sigh. “Things are so stressful between Sam and his brother, you know? I mean, if any of the financial stuff got out, we’d be screwed.”

Josie frowned. “So you’re aware that there are financial issues with your account.”

Madge nodded, reaching into her bag. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of why I’m here.” She lifted out a small silver handgun. Her nose wrinkled. “I’m really sorry about this.” Her elbow tucked into her stomach and kept the weapon hidden from anyone in the hallway.

Fear slammed into Josie’s stomach. She leaned back and away from the weapon. “What the hell?”

Madge’s eyes glittered. “Well, we were working with Billy, and everything was fine, until he went to rehab.” Her lips tightened white. “I guess he found religion. Or a conscience or something.” She stomped her foot and cackled out a laugh. “Moron.”

Josie shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, well… before Sam and me inherited the hardware store, we, uh, kind of were helping this guy named Max Penton with his business.” Madge’s eyes flashed a wild blue.

“Which was?” Josie could scream and duck under the desk, but would Madge shoot Vicki if she came running? Or Shane?

“He sells meth. A lot of it.” Madge picked at a scab on the hand holding the gun. “But not to kids. Never to kids.”

Was the woman on something? Josie forced anger away. She needed to focus. Shane wouldn’t have been worried by the sweet-looking Madge; he wouldn’t come check on her. Pudgy Madge looked softer than Josie. “So Billy helped you break the law?”

The gun wavered. “Yeah. The guy would do anything for meth. Actually, he showed us how we could take the money from helping Max and make it look like it came through the business. A way to keep the money from Sam’s brother.” She snarled. “You have no idea what it’s like working your ass off every day. Everything goes to his brother. The favorite one—the prosecutor. Asshole.”

Crazy. The woman was bat shit crazy. “So Billy taught you how to launder money.” How deep did Madge’s resentment go toward her brother-in-law?

“Yeah. Billy had the extra ledger so we could keep track and give the good receipts to his brother. We hid the extra money in off-shore accounts—and Billy used the accounts of his other clients without their knowledge.” Madge hissed and spittle bubbled at the corners of her mouth. “But then Billy went to rehab, and you got the ledgers.” Light glinted off the steel barrel of the gun as she gestured. “I’m due this money. I deserve it.”

Josie’s shoulders bunched with the need to duck to the floor. The knitting needles in her bottom drawer wouldn’t be enough protection from a gun. There had to be some way to reason with the lunatic. “You know Billy’s dead, right?”

“Yeah. Max shot him. Then George was supposed to get the files from you, but he didn’t.” She tilted her head, the gun settling to point at Josie’s chest. Dark circles of sweat stained her flowered shirt. “What happened to George, anyway?”

Josie’s chest pounded. “I’m still not sure about George.” She surveyed the empty hallway. “What’s your plan here?”

Madge sighed, regret flashing across her face. False regret. “I’m a good person, you know.”

“In my experience, people who spend time trying to convince people they’re a good person are actually trying to convince themselves.” Where was Shane? “You know you’re not a good person.”

Madge’s head jerked up, her eyes a crazy, wide blue. “We’ll see about that now, won’t we? Give me the files.”

Josie pushed them toward Madge along with the ledger.

“Thanks.” She shoved them all in the big bag. “Now here’s the deal. I’ll shoot you.” Her gaze hardened. “I really will.”

Josie believed her. “This won’t work.”

“Sure it will. We get up, go toward the conference room in the back, and head down the east stairwell.” Madge sneered as she stood.

Josie swallowed. “What then?”

“Then we meet Max and give him the ledger. He’ll figure out what to do.” Madge gestured for Josie to get up.

“He’ll kill me. You know that, right?” Josie edged around the desk, her gaze on the gun. Madge had about six inches and forty or so pounds on Josie.

“Maybe not. I mean, maybe we can convince him you won’t tell.”

If Madge got her out of the building, she was dead. “Okay.” Josie eased toward the door.

Madge grabbed her bag. “I have the gun right behind my bag. I’ll shoot you if I need to.”

“I know.” Josie stepped into the hallway, glancing toward the far lobby. God, please let Shane be on guard.

Shane sat, his legs out before him, a legal pad in his hand. He glanced up.

She tipped her head toward Madge and turned the opposite way.

Vicki glanced up from her computer screen. “How are things?”

“Great.” Josie kept moving. She couldn’t get Vicki hurt. “Madge and I are heading to the conference room to spread out.”

“Josie,” Shane said, suddenly right behind her.

She jumped, partially turning. “Hi, Shane.” She gestured toward Madge. Her breath caught. “This is Madge, my client. We’re heading to the conference room.”

Shane smiled, all teeth. He extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Madge.”

Madge eyed Josie and then Shane. With a hiss, she dropped the bag and pointed the gun at Shane. “Damn it.” She straightened her shoulder, gaze surveying Shane. “You look like danger.”

“Thank you.” Shane shifted his stance like a cougar about to strike.

Madge steeled her shoulders. “Yeah. There’s only one way to deal with a guy like you.”

Oh God. She was going to shoot! Without a thought, Josie shot a roundhouse kick at Madge’s hand.

The gun went off.

Shane bent at the waist, his hands going to his stomach. Blood oozed.

“Shane!” Josie gasped.

His eyes widened.

Madge grabbed Josie and pressed the gun to her neck. “You’re next.” She tugged Josie toward the elevator; backing away from Shane and a wide-eyed Vicki. Accountants and secretaries peered out of their offices, several with cell phones held at their ears. Calling the police, hopefully.

“Let her go and I won’t kill you,” Shane hissed through clenched teeth. His skin paled, yet he stood upright, one hand still covering the wound.

He’d been shot. How bad? Josie tried to halt their movements. Madge dug the gun in harder, and Josie winced.

Madge punched the elevator button. “If anyone comes near us, I’ll kill her. You know I will.” The door slid open and she yanked Josie inside.

Josie bit her lip. Shane stood near the door; his jaw set hard, a murderous glint in his eyes. Blood continued to soak through his T-shirt. How bad was the wound? Josie struggled to focus but couldn’t tell.

The door slid shut.