“He’s a known associate of the Bratva and a childhood friend of Jason Miller,” her informant went on. “I’m sure he thought he could go into hiding, but I firmly believe the men who hired him would much prefer that he never have the opportunity to speak of the incident. They likely hired both men to torch Crawford’s house and planned to kill them afterward. Those Russians know how to keep secrets. In a few days, Hall’s body will surface, and the police will likely chalk up your near-death experience to an isolated case of arson and close the file.”

  Everly didn’t like what she was hearing. “Why would two men without ties to Maddox randomly torch his brownstone?”

  She didn’t mention that she and Gabriel had seen the thugs looking for something—whether to swipe or destroy it, she didn’t know. She wasn’t here to give her informant information.

  The man shrugged. “It won’t matter to the police. They’re petty criminals. No one will mourn them. They’re easy to mentally convict and forget.”

  She recoiled. “That’s harsh.”

  “But true. Miller and Hall brought no value to society, and the man whose house is in ashes is dead now, so there’s no true victim. As long as the police and public can assign blame and say the crime has been solved . . .” He shrugged. “Almost everyone will be happy.”

  “But not all?” Everly asked. She hadn’t quite decided if he was a total crackpot. Maybe. Probably. But what if he really did know the identity of the second arsonist? What else might he know?

  “Well, you shouldn’t be happy. In the next few hours, the authorities will close the case on Maddox Crawford’s death, too. They’ll either rule that it wasn’t a homicide after all or name a patsy. Either way, they will close every avenue of investigation and sweep it all under the rug.”

  The man sounded like a conspiracy theorist . . . but did that necessarily make him crazy? “Why? He was murdered, right?”

  “Of course,” he shot back as if it was obvious. “He knew too much and he couldn’t be allowed to live.”

  “Knew too much about what?” When the man hesitated, Everly glared at him. “Your e-mail and texts indicate you have all the answers. If that’s true, tell me what Maddox died for.”

  He bent his head and looked at her from under his brim as he spoke. She couldn’t see his face, but his low growl was unmistakable. “Good. You are smart, wanting to get to the heart of the matter. Everything else is background noise and distraction. Did pilot’s error kill him? Or was it a bomb on the plane? And what about the sudden appearance of that video showing Bond’s threat to kill Crawford? It makes your boyfriend look awfully guilty and will keep the public speculating. But all that merely scratches the surface of what’s really going on. You’re digging, but you’ve barely clawed a fingernail into the glossy coating yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re starting to get information, but the clues seem unrelated, like they don’t quite fit together, right? Don’t give up. The evidence gives false impressions when laid out in pieces as simple, individual truths. When you put everything together and look deeper, you’ll see.”

  She really wanted to write this man off as a loon. But even if everything he’d said so far had been outlandish, she had a gut feeling he might be on to something. “Stop speaking in riddles and tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “I don’t have tangible proof. You’ll have to find that for yourself. But believe me, if I laid the whole truth out, you’d call me a liar. Or you would panic.”

  “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

  “You’re not,” he agreed smoothly. “But these are huge stakes. Almost unimaginable. You may not believe me about that, either, but try. Your life might depend on it.”

  Everly wished she could call bullshit on that, but after Mad’s murder and the intentional fire at his house, she didn’t have trouble believing it.

  “Do your own investigation,” he went on. “If you uncover the layers as I have and keep asking questions—even if they seem crazy—you’ll figure it out.”

  Why would the stakes in her half brother’s murder be so ridiculously high? And how was she supposed to know the right questions to ask?

  Everly frowned. “I don’t understand any of this. I know why a jealous husband or a scorned lover might have wanted to kill Maddox, but they would probably have wanted the satisfaction of killing him with their own hands, not rigging his plane to go down.”

  “Think bigger, Ms. Parker.” He scoffed. “Much bigger. Who benefitted most from his demise?”

  “If you’re suggesting that Gabriel Bond killed him to inherit—”

  “I’m not. This is bigger than simple greed.” He glared at her. “Who has the power to cover up a murder like Crawford’s? Research that and think really outside the box about why. I won’t say more now. It’s too much to lay on you at once without documentation. But I won’t leave you without resources. You can trust one person.”

  This dramatic speech hadn’t made much sense, but Everly finally got a glimmer of where this was heading.

  “You?” She raised a cynical brow at him.

  He laughed, a deep chuckle. “Oh, heavens no. I wouldn’t trust me at all. No, I’m talking about Lara Armstrong. She’s in DC. Find her. Compare notes. She’s tugging on a few threads, but she hasn’t figured out which ones to yank yet. When she does, she’ll be in danger because no one wants this information revealed, as our friend Mr. Crawford discovered the hard way.”

  Frustration bubbled up. Why couldn’t he simply tell her what he knew? “I don’t have time to investigate, and it’s not exactly my skill set. Just tell me who killed my brother.”

  Even as he shook his head, his grin grew wider. “I was surprised you discovered that information so quickly. Tell me, did it make Mr. Bond feel better to know he hadn’t slept with his best friend’s mistress?” He sobered. “He might not be guilty of murder, but whatever you do, don’t trust Gabe Bond.”

  Everly suspected she shouldn’t. She would always wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t learned about her true relationship to Maddox. Would he have ever believed that she hadn’t warmed Maddox’s bed? Or would he have decided that he couldn’t handle his friend’s leftovers and dumped her? Despite all that, she didn’t like this stranger talking badly about Gabriel.

  “I don’t think my relationships are any of your business.”

  “If your relationships get in the way of the truth, they are.”

  Who the hell did he think he was? “You called me here to give me information—”

  “No, I called you here to give you direction. So far, you’re not taking it well.”

  He was talking in circles and it was irritating the hell out of her. “Say what you came to say and be done. At this point, I’m ready to write you off as a meddling conspiracy nut.”

  “Ah, finally the feisty girl comes out. So you don’t like me badmouthing Gabe Bond, do you? You’re in deep with him.”

  “Again, that’s none of your business.” Once they figured out who killed Maddox, she and Gabriel would only see each other occasionally, for the sake of Sara’s baby. She could resume her work and her thriller-novel-a-week habit. He could go back to his former life as a Manhattan manwhore.

  Why did that thought hurt so much?

  “I don’t object to Gabe in general. He’s simply involved with people who need to bury this information so deep, it never sees the light of day. Several factions are competing to come out on top, and some don’t even realize other teams exist. Once they do and you start putting the pieces together, you’ll be in danger. Trust me, this picture is only starting to come into focus. What you know is one corner of a much larger puzzle.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the missing money?”

  He frowned. “Missing money?”

  So her mystery informant didn’t know everything. Maybe he didn’t really know anything. Everly shook her head. This guy was probably a nut job after all.

  “All right, what’s the scam? Do you work for Lara Armstrong, whoever she is? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m done listening.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait. I’ll prove my knowledge to you. Tell me, did you find the pictures of the missing girls in the lockbox in the hidden room?”

  She froze. Not even the cops knew about the lockbox. She and Gabriel hadn’t wanted it taken into custody as evidence—or to start any speculation about Maddox’s predilections by turning it over. “How did you know about that?”

  He smiled. “It was very clever of you to find your way out of the fire.” He knew he had her, and she could practically sense his satisfaction. “Don’t look so shocked. I know a lot of things I shouldn’t. That’s why you need to listen to me.”

  “Why don’t you go to the authorities yourself?”

  He shook his head. “I’d be discredited and discounted. Like I said, I know what I know, but I have no tangible proof. You, Ms. Parker, have that young, earnest thing people will believe. And I have no doubt you’ll find the proof to back it up. I’ll steer you in the right direction.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you were his sister,” he explained. “Because you have the talents necessary to solve his murder. Because he would want you to be safe and happy.”

  She had so many questions, but she doubted he’d answer any of them. “Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter. I’m a minor player in this game. I’ve hidden my identity to save my neck. You won’t be able to discover it. Don’t waste valuable time trying. Just know that I’m sympathetic to your brother and to you.”

  “But not to Gabriel.”

  His head shook slightly. “I wouldn’t say that. I admire all of Maddox’s friends. I merely don’t think it’s in your best interest to trust them. Those boys take their friendships seriously. Don’t think you’ll come between them—not for a second. If Gabe has to choose between you and his childhood brothers, he will choose them. He might regret cutting you loose, but he will.”

  The garage suddenly seemed colder than before. Yes, Gabriel had powerful friends, but she wasn’t sure what her mystery man was trying to say. “Why would he have to choose?”

  The man’s features turned steely, his eyes hardening. “Because they’re in deeper than even they realize, and that’s another reason I can’t simply tell you everything I know. Even if I had all the proof and everyone believed me, they’d attempt to cover it up in order to protect their own. The truth must be revealed.”

  “I don’t understand.” She heard the sound of a car rumbling above her.

  “I know it’s a lot now. I sent you the information you need to begin.” She heard frustration creeping into his tone. “Start there.”

  The revving of the car’s engine sounded louder suddenly. She felt the ground move as someone zipped by in a white sports car. Everly frowned. Not many cars parked this far down. Even in the middle of the workday, there should be plenty of spaces above. True, some people were freaky about parking next to other cars, but she hadn’t noticed the vehicle parked on this level earlier.

  She turned back to her mystery man, hoping he wouldn’t be spooked by someone else’s presence in the garage. She had more questions, but the most important one needed an answer now. “Are you talking about the e-mail and texts you sent? Because you didn’t send any information in those.”

  The sound of screeching tires echoed somewhere behind her. Whoever sat behind the wheel of that vehicle was driving like a maniac.

  “Not that. The information.” When she sent him a blank stare and shook her head, the man’s eyes widened. “I sent you a ton of information. It’s the only copy. Everly, if that falls into the wrong hands, we could lose everything. Shit!” He looked frantic. “You’ll never find Sergei without that data.”

  Sergei, the man Mad had mentioned in his video with Gabriel right before her brother’s ill-fated flight?

  “Who is Sergei and why would I need to find him?” she asked as the nearby elevator dinged. The doors began to part, and she turned to see who would come this far underground in the middle of the workday.

  Before she could discern who occupied the elevator, a more ominous sound filled the garage and snagged her attention. An engine revved loudly. Tires squealed. Then she caught sight of the white car tearing back down the aisle toward her. As the car zoomed closer, Everly waited for the driver to step on the brake.

  Instead, the person behind the wheel gunned the engine—and steered the vehicle directly toward her.

  “Everly!” Gabriel shouted over the racing car.

  She had the briefest glimpse of a woman driving. Valerie.

  The accountant wasn’t stopping. Or even slowing. And she wasn’t turning to go up to the next level. No, Valerie was headed right for her, wearing a murderous look on her face.

  As Everly stared at the woman, a flood of fear paralyzed her.

  Suddenly, she was flying through the air before landing with a hard thud, tangled with Gabriel’s solid body on the hard cement. As she heard a male grunt, the car whizzed by her, so close she felt a cold rush of air zip across her skin. Then she heard the sounds of metal colliding with concrete slam through her brain and she whipped her head around to see that the vehicle had slammed into the wall she’d been standing in front of only moments ago.

  If Gabriel hadn’t tackled her, rolling her away from the car’s path, Valerie would have killed her.

  His arms tightened around her for a long moment. As he disentangled himself and rose to his knees above her, his face appeared ashen. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  She was a little banged up, but there was zero question in her mind that Gabriel had risked his life to save hers.

  Though out of breath, she managed to sit up. “I think I’m fine. Thanks.”

  Dax raced over, holding a semiautomatic in his hands, his stare glued to the car. “The Mustang hit the wall pretty hard, but I think it’s safe to say the building won that battle.” Dax looked down at her. “You need a bus?”

  Ah, the comfort of a man who knew the lingo. She moved her arms and limbs experimentally, relieved that all felt well. Everly was pretty sure she wouldn’t need an ambulance. “No, but if Valerie is still alive, she’ll need one.”

  Dax nodded.

  “Get out of the vehicle and put your hands up.” A strong masculine voice rang out through the now-quiet garage.

  Everly saw one of the guards drawing down on the car. From what she could tell, the vehicle’s front end had been crushed. Smoke billowed from the hood. The airbag had deployed and, given its movement, she’d bet Valerie was behind it trying to breathe or find a way out from under it.

  After a glance around, she didn’t, however, see her mystery man. He’d gone, probably deciding that the turn of events was either a reason or a smokescreen to get the hell out. He was hiding. Hell, he’d probably find some other conspiracy to run down for kicks.

  But how had he known about the lockbox?

  “Come out slowly,” the guard repeated, attention directed at the car.

  Very slowly, the woman opened the door and stepped out on shaky feet, holding her hands in the air. “I wish I hadn’t missed, you bitch. You took everything from me.”

  She was still in her designer clothes and her five-inch heels, but mascara smudged her face and blood stained her blouse. She looked somehow polished and vicious at once.

  Everly had to ask. “What did I ever take from you?”

  “Maddox. He was supposed to love me. He swore that he wanted me, but in the end, he went to you. Always to you. Why did you steal him? I hate you.”

  Apparently, Valerie hadn’t seen her morning press conference. And Everly was tired of explaining herself. “Maddox wasn’t my lover. He was my brother. You tried to mow me down to avenge the romantic loss of a man I never once touched.”

  Her eyes flared. “That’s not possible. You’re a liar. A corrupt whore trying to destroy me because you wanted Maddox to yourself. That’s why you planted documents to frame me, but I’ll prove that you’re the guilty one or I’ll take you down with me if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Everly heard the sirens from above. She was about to see the NYPD for the third incident in less than forty-eight hours. She winced. How terrible was her afternoon about to get?

  • • •

  Gabe watched as Everly shook the officer’s hand. His soft, curvaceous female had handled the situation with strength and grace. Most women would be crying and shaking and looking for someone to comfort them. Even Valerie had been hauled off, hysterically screaming her intent to get even. But Everly had merely moved on to the next task. She’d been perfectly calm as she talked to the officers, even laughing and joking at one point. Seeing this side of her was a bit of a revelation. She was so competent, so in her element.

  She’d ignored him for the most part except to ask if he needed anything.

  At the moment, he’d said no, but he’d lied. Gabe needed to get her naked and underneath him. He needed to get his hands on her so he could assure himself that she was alive. Damn, he was the one who needed some comfort.

  “You all right?” Dax crossed his arms over his chest as he looked over the mess of the parking garage.

  Absently, Gabe thought they’d have to bring in a structural engineer to ensure that batshit crazy bitch hadn’t made the entire building unstable.

  “Not really. I want to know everything about that woman.”

  Dax nodded. “After the questionable catering receipts, Connor started working on it. He pulled Valerie’s records and found that she failed to disclose some time she spent institutionalized for emotional issues.”

  “Are you kidding me? How the hell did she get hired?”

  “C’mon, Gabe. You know that, by law, HR departments can’t ask about certain personal issues. She apparently tried to have that period sealed off, but Connor found it easily enough. Rumor is, she was also known around the office for being very willing to accommodate her male bosses.”

  So she slept around. “I still don’t understand what she meant about Everly planting evidence against her.”