I considered the computer a bit longer. The notes might mean nothing now, but maybe they would make sense later. I weighed my options, hurried into the living room to find my purse, then returned with my smart phone and snapped a picture of the screen.
It wasn’t much, but at least I’d done something.
With no other plan of attack for the kitchen, I decided to see what else might be in the penthouse. I already knew there was no workstation in the bedroom, but I sincerely doubted that a man like Tyler would be willing to live without a desk, even for only a few months.
With luck, I’d find either a dedicated office or a bedroom that Tyler had set up as one. With even more luck, I’d find something interesting.
I poured a second cup of coffee and took it with me as I set out to find and search his office. I had personal knowledge that Tyler was not only well-muscled, but had serious endurance. So I assumed he spent a significant amount of time at the gym. What I didn’t know was where the gym was located or how long he’d been gone. If he used the fitness center at The Drake, his travel time would be minimal.
No matter what, time was of the essence, and me and my coffee hurried down the corridor that lead off the south side of the living area.
The hallway angled sharply, and I’d just made the turn when I stopped dead. Tyler. His voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but I was damn sure that was his voice.
Shit. Holy fucking shit.
He was here. In the penthouse. And he must have been here the whole damn time.
I said a silent thank-you to St. Christopher—the patron saint of cops—who’d apparently been watching out for me, preventing Tyler from popping into the kitchen to freshen his coffee while I poked around on his laptop. With any luck, good old Christopher would stay on the job.
The voice was coming from behind the first door on the left. Probably a gym—it occurred to me belatedly that a penthouse this large would have a private gym—and I eased that way. I couldn’t snoop while he was on the premises, so I might as well tell him I was awake.
But as I lifted my hand to knock on the door, I realized two things. First, the door was cracked just slightly. Second, Tyler wasn’t alone.
The woman in me felt a twinge of guilt, but the cop didn’t even hesitate. I edged quietly up against the door, tilted my head, and listened.
“Franklin showed up late for the party,” said a deep voice that I recognized as belonging to Cole August. “Said to tell you that Lizzy’s a gem. Guess her first couple of days went well.”
“Glad to hear it,” Tyler said “She works hard, and she’s sharp. I figure he’s lucky to have her. At least that’s good news. Bentley’s turning out to be a liability.”
“My neck’s clear on this one,” a third man said, and I assumed it was Evan Black. “But if you want my advice, you don’t want to waste any time getting a protection plan in place.”
“Agreed,” Cole said.
“I think Michelle’s our best option,” Tyler said, and my ears perked up at the name. “Okay by you?”
“Shit, man,” Cole said. “I just fuck her. I’m not her keeper. If we need her, we’ll use her. You know that.”
“Fine,” Tyler said. “I’ll set it up. What else?”
“Lina noticed your date for the party,” Evan said in a voice that sounded just a little too smooth. “Asked me if I knew who she was.”
I froze, wishing I could see as well as hear.
“What’d you tell her?” Cole asked.
“The truth,” Evan said. “What do you think? But, dammit, Tyler, you know damn well I’m not one to question your endgame, but you should have talked to us before fucking a cop—”
I gasped—barely a sound, but I knew in that instant that they’d heard me.
Instinctively I reached for my weapon, only to remember that I wasn’t wearing it. I turned to run—because no matter what bullshit Hollywood throws at you, one unarmed, petite female detective was no match for those three—but the door was open and Tyler flew through it, catching my arm before I’d even reached the end of the hall.
“You bastard! You goddamn, mother-fucking bastard.” I hurled the words at him, even as I tried to yank my arm free. No go there; he had me tight. Which left me no option but to lash out with my free hand and smash my fist into his sanctimonious face.
He anticipated the punch, so I got him in the jaw instead of his nose.
What I didn’t get, was free. I was still trapped tight in his grip. Only now, he was surely even more pissed off.
“You son of a bitch.” I wasn’t shouting. On the contrary, my words were cold and measured, but that ice was balanced against a white hot rage.
“Jesus, fuck, that hurts,” Tyler said, tightening his grip on me as he reached up with his free hand to massage his jaw.
“Tyler.” Cole stood frozen in the hall, Evan behind him. They both looked as intimidating as hell. And in that singular moment, I understood how they’d risen to become such fierce and feared businessmen. Who the hell would dare cross them?
Me, apparently. Shit.
I considered struggling, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Instead, I stood perfectly straight and perfectly silent, willing my pulse to calm down as I watched the situation and analyzed my options.
Not a long process—considering Tyler held me tight and the fact that it was three against one, I calculated that my choices were limited.
Tyler’s eyes stayed firmly on me, but he was talking to the other two men when he said, very softly and simply, “Go.”
Evan took a step forward. “Listen, Tyler. I’m—”
“Later.” Tyler’s eyes never left my face. “Go out through the back entrance. We’ll talk tomorrow. I have this under control.”
I saw the doubt in Cole’s and Evan’s faces—and I knew damn sure they could see the fury on mine—but they did as Tyler asked, and moved down the hall to a service door.
The moment it clicked shut behind them, I yanked my arm again—and once again he held me tight.
“Goddammit, Tyler. Let me go.” I was tense. Tight. And I was searching the hall, doing a visual check for anything I could use as a weapon—if I ever got free and had the chance to grab it.
“Do you know why I pushed you last night?” he asked, and I heard the danger in his voice, sharp and clean like the blade of a knife.
I met his eyes, but said nothing. I felt the tiny beads of sweat rise on the back of my neck, though, and my skin went clammy. I tried to push down the fear, tried to control the beat of my heart. But there was no denying it—and I was certain that Tyler could see it.