Deadly Temptation. Justine Davis

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СКАЧАТЬ in Southern California, after all—that seemed to make the metallic paint on the sedan flash, he might not have noticed just one more ordinary dark car several back in the line of traffic.

      Of course, he was headed toward the beach. Maybe he was just paranoid.

      He yanked the wheel of the BMW and dived right around the next corner. He slowed, waiting, his eyes on the road behind him. And after a moment, slowly, the blue sedan came around the corner. Definitely a tail.

      What the hell did IA expect him to do? Head for the bank and pull out that money, maybe make a run for it?

      “Probably,” he muttered under his breath.

      He waited for a break in traffic in the outside lane. A main cross street was coming up, so he figured several cars would be making a right turn there and would leave him a gap. When it happened just as he’d hoped, he quickly switched lanes and slowed, downshifting to avoid the warning glare of brake lights.

      The blue sedan had nowhere to go, and by shifting the rearview mirror, he got a good look at the driver.

      It was a total stranger.

      He knew everybody attached to IA. He knew most of the cops at the entire department by sight. This guy wasn’t any of them. He also knew most of Marcos’s men, and while this man looked as if he could be Hispanic, he didn’t look the sort.

      Even more wary now, he thought quickly. He didn’t think the guy could be sure he’d been seen; Logan hadn’t looked directly at him, just used the mirror. And if he turned right up ahead at the next street, it might seem like he’d just changed lanes to prepare for the turn.

      He made that turn, then went right again into the first parking lot he came to, in front of a medical building.

      He parked the car in a visible spot near the doors. He didn’t dwell on the risks of what he was doing. They’d taken his duty weapon when they’d officially suspended him yesterday, so all he had was his personal two-inch backup. He hadn’t taken it into the station, for fear they’d take it, too, but instead had left it in the hidden compartment in the side door panel. The car had been confiscated in a drug bust up north, and had come with that and other interesting nonstandard accessories.

      He quickly got the small revolver out and strapped on the ankle holster. He checked the narrow sheath sewn onto the back of it, where the slim, razor-sharp blade he carried was secured; that little precaution had saved a life once, when he’d used it to cut through the seat belt of a burning car and pulled the occupant to safety. He unsnapped the safety strap that held the pistol in place; if he needed it, he’d need it in a hurry.

      When the driver of the blue sedan had had time to spot him, he got out and headed into the medical building.

      He paused in front of the directory as if reading it, trusting his peripheral vision to let him know whether the tail took the bait.

      He did. The blue sedan cruised slowly through the parking lot. Logan turned then, briskly, as if he’d found what he was looking for in the directory. He headed toward the back of the building, guessing the tail would find a place to park and wait where he could watch the BMW.

      Unless he decided to follow him in.

      Fine, Logan thought. Bring it on. I feel like punching somebody about now.

      His thoughts were bitter, but he couldn’t stop them. His world was crashing down around him, and so fast he was going to be lucky not to be crushed underneath the rubble.

      He waited for a few minutes, out of sight from the front doors, but no one came in. Impatient, he looked around, spotted a side exit and headed that way. The door was, thankfully, glass, and he checked the row of cars parked along that side of the building for the blue sedan. It wasn’t there, so he stepped outside and headed toward the front of the building. He’d nearly cleared the corner when a sliver of blue caught his eye from the parking lot of the convenience store next door. And there, parked mostly hidden behind a big Dumpster, was the blue sedan.

      Good job, Logan thought again. If I hadn’t been already looking for him, I never would have seen him.

      Logan used the Dumpster as cover and edged across the narrow strip of pavement between the medical building and the slightly higher parking lot next door. The sedan was parked heading out, so he could slide into a tailing position as soon as the BMW was on the move again. For a moment Logan thought about doing just that and leading his follower to a more private place for a confrontation, but decided quickly he didn’t have the patience to spare for a cat-and-mouse game just now. He kept going.

      The sedan was empty.

      He’d been outmaneuvered.

      Chapter 3

      Logan swore under his breath at his own stupidity. Then he sensed rather than saw a movement to his right, and crouched and spun in the same motion.

      The man who was standing there, giving him a rather rueful smile, held both hands up in front of his chest, indicating he had no weapon.

      “Detective Beck, I underestimated you,” the man said. “Sorry.”

      Logan studied the man assessingly. Just slightly shorter than his own six feet, Logan estimated. And despite the total lack of accent, he was still guessing Hispanic from the dark eyes and golden-brown skin tones.

      “Who the hell are you?”

      “My name’s Tony Alvera.”

      He’d wanted considerably more than just a name, but he sensed the man knew that.

      “IA recruiting from outside now?” he asked.

      “I’m not a cop.”

      Logan frowned. “Marcos hiring a higher class of thug now?”

      The man laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But no, I don’t work for him, either.”

      So he was working for somebody, Logan thought.

      “And,” the man went on in a tone that matched the first ruefulness of his expression, “if the man I do work for ever finds out how easily you burned me, I may not be working for him much longer, either.”

      “Who,” Logan said carefully, “is your boss?”

      “Name’s Draven. John Draven.”

      Logan frowned at the unfamiliar name.

      “Yeah, not many on the outside have heard of him. He likes it that way.”

      “Outside of what? Or where?”

      “You might have heard of his boss, though,” Alvera said. “Most people have.”

      “Look I don’t have time for games. Who the hell sent you to tail me?”

      “Joshua Redstone.”

      Logan Beck was not often astonished, but he was now. He knew he was gaping at Alvera, but he was stunned.

      “Joshua Redstone?” He said the famous name incredulously. “The gazillionaire of Redstone СКАЧАТЬ