Munro Family: The Deception Part 15

"In the eastern suburbs," she finished.

Will's expression hardened. "It's not too much of a stretch to imagine Maranoa, or one of his cohorts, supplying Cole."

Understanding dawned. Savannah couldn't help the relief that surged through her. "So, you're here on a personal mission of revenge? Is that what you're trying to tell me? That rather than being in cahoots with Maranoa, you're actually trying to do away with him. Have I got it right?"

Will's cheeks flushed and he averted his gaze. Savannah frowned, a.s.suming he was embarra.s.sed by his admission of the degree of violence he was prepared to inflict on the drug dealer.

As far as she was concerned, he had nothing to be embarra.s.sed about. She understood exactly where he was coming from. She felt just as angry about the sc.u.m-of-the earth dealers who got her brother hooked.

"It's okay," she rea.s.sured him. "I understand. I'm not condoning murder, but I understand how you feel."

Will turned to face her, shaking his head. "No, no you don't. I mean... That is, I don't mean that you don't understand how I feel. What I mean is that you don't have it right. Not all of it."

The intensity of his gaze as it burned into hers set her pulse galloping once again. She swallowed. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Will stared at her. For a long moment, he said nothing. Nerves swirled in Savannah's belly. She held her breath.

His shoulders slumped on a heavy sigh. "The thing is, I do have a personal vendetta against Maranoa and I've vowed to fight with everything I have at my disposal to put him away, but I'm not a vigilante. I-I'm a detective with the DEA. At the moment, I'm-"

"Working undercover at the Black Opal," she finished. Shock and disbelief strangled her voice. She stumbled away from him, not even knowing which direction she'd taken until the hard, cold surface of the wall pressed in on her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered harshly, mindful of their location. "After all the things I said to you, accused you of-you never once tried to defend yourself. I feel like such an idiot!" Her voice hitched. "You must have been laughing yourself silly."

"Savannah, don't be ridiculous, of course I wasn't. You forget that earlier, when we first met, I thought you were a hooker."

She frowned in consternation. "But, why would you think I was part of it? Okay, you thought I was a-a prost.i.tute, but that didn't mean I was involved in the drug business."

"You're right. What you don't know is that I overheard you talking to one of the other girls the night we met. You talked about Vince and about Billy... To me, it sounded like you had intimate information about the goings on here. It was only after I asked Pete about you that I discovered the truth."

His voice was low and calm, a voice of reason.

Reason, be d.a.m.ned. She was shocked. And bewildered. And still angry. It was too darn bad their surroundings prevented her from shouting at him.

"Do you know what would have happened if I'd written about how I'd seen you fraternizing in a brothel? Do you have any idea what would have happened to your life, your father's business? Did you even care?" she whispered fiercely.

Will moved closer, effectively trapping her between his hard body and the wall.

"So why didn't you?" he challenged her.

She looked at him and then just as quickly looked away. Breathing rapidly, she tried to sort through the myriad of thoughts surging through her confused brain.

He wasn't a criminal. He wasn't Billy. He was a cop. He wasn't a drug dealer. He was a good guy...

But where did that leave her? Somewhere deep inside, she was relieved and elated her suspicions about him had proven false and there was also a tiny sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe she'd also been mistaken about her brother.

Will was a police officer, a good bloke. But could she trust him not to break her heart, like Jonathan had?

It was unfair to compare him to her ex-fiance. Will was nothing like Jonathan, but she couldn't forget how Will had deliberately misled her. Never once had he even hinted she was getting it all wrong.

"I a.s.sume Pete knows?"

His body tensed. "Of course, he's my commanding officer."

"Right, of course he is. Who else?"

He shrugged. "It's not really a secret. I've been a copper for more than a decade. I don't go out of my way to advertise it, because it suits me better to remain incognito."

He grimaced. "Naturally, my father's appalled at my choice of career. I doubt he's told a single soul that his oldest, and now only son, prefers to work for a living as a lowly police officer rather than take over the old man's business empire."

She sighed at the enormity of their misunderstanding. Then another thought occurred to her. "You make the social pages on a fairly frequent basis. How come some enterprising journalist hasn't made the connection?"

Will shrugged. "I keep a low profile at work. I'm involved in a lot of undercover operations-especially ones that require me to be...well, myself: A young, wealthy entrepreneur enjoying life in the city. I have an office at Rutledge Enterprises. Most people a.s.sume I work for Dad." He laughed without humor. "Lucky for me, Dad's only too happy to keep up the subterfuge."

She stared at him for long moments. It was all too much to take in, particularly right there and then, in one of the bedrooms of the Black Opal. She needed to get away from him and from the possibility she might run into her brother again. She needed time to think and to come to terms with all that had happened and what she'd learned.

She bent low and collected the wig from where Will had tossed it to the floor. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from him and walked over to the door and unlocked it.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home."

"You can't just walk out of here. Vince might still be-"

"I don't care. I need to go home. I managed to get out of here undetected the first time, I'm sure I can do it again."

"But-"

"Goodnight, Will." Opening the door quietly, Savannah snuck a glance left and right. The corridor was clear. With relief, she slipped into the darkened hall and left without a backward glance.

It was well after midnight when Savannah arrived back at her condominium. She opened her front door and the stench of vomit hit her like a physical force. Her heart pounded in sudden fear. The only person she'd let into her condo was Dylan. Surely he hadn't been sick in the moments he'd been there? For her to have spied him at the Black Opal, he would have had to leave shortly after she had.

With a trembling hand, she switched on the lamp that stood on a side table in the hall and spied a large wet patch on the carpet a little further down. Stains marked the wall above it.

Cautiously, she stepped into the darkened living room and made out the sleeping figure of her brother spread-eagled across the couch. Her breath rushed out on a gasp of relief.

She must have been mistaken. He wasn't at the brothel. He was at home. Asleep. And he'd been sick.

She moved closer to him and put her hand on his forehead. It was warm, but not hot. His breathing was deep and even. Whatever had made him ill seemed to have pa.s.sed. At least he'd had the decency to clean it up. She'd deal with the smell in the morning.

With a sigh that was equal parts relief and confusion, she left the room and headed toward her bedroom. Tossing the wig onto her dresser, she kicked off her shoes and went into the bathroom to remove her makeup. She switched on the light over the mirror and stared at her reflection.

Eyes wide with uncertainty stared back at her. Smudged mascara made her look as if she'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson.

During her drive home, she'd replayed the events of the night over and over in her mind, but still hadn't come to terms with it. She'd learned Will wasn't a criminal, but had almost convinced herself that maybe her brother was. Now those concerns seemed ludicrous. Dylan was asleep on her couch. There was no way he could have made it home before her. Could he?

She frowned. She'd spent time in the main bar and then later, with Will, long after she'd seen the man she believed was her brother. But what if she'd been wrong? What if it hadn't been Dylan at all, but someone who merely looked like him?

And sounded like him. She suddenly recalled the voice she'd heard outside the bedroom shouting for the girls. Had it been her brother, or was she mistaken on both counts? It wasn't the first time...

She couldn't deny the knowledge that Will wasn't a criminal lightened her heart. What weighed her down now was how long it had taken him to tell her. She accepted his explanation, but the fact was, there had been more than ample opportunity for him to call her and not only apologize for not believing her, but to tell her he was in law enforcement.

Pulling off her clothes, she dropped them onto the floor and stepped into the shower. Setting the water to as hot as she could stand it, she scrubbed her body clean of the night's events.

Long moments later, she shut off the faucets and briskly toweled dry. Slipping on a short nightgown, she turned off the light and climbed into bed, grateful for the cool cotton sheets that enveloped her in their softness. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts returned once again to the quandary of her brother.

Almost immediately, the tension returned to her body. She wondered briefly if Will had made it out and was confident he had. It was easy for a man like him to pa.s.s himself off as a patron of the exclusive brothel. He was exactly the kind of clientele they catered to.

She glanced at the clock. It was past one. In a few short hours, she'd be back behind her desk, doing her best to convince Max to run another story on the Black Opal. One thing was for sure, she was going to speak with her brother first thing in the morning. The very next person in line would be Pete. That man also had some explaining to do.

Talking to Pete would also solve her problem about going to the homicide guys. She'd tell Pete everything she knew. Now that protecting Will's ident.i.ty was no longer a consideration, it was the most sensible course of action. The police would know where to direct their investigation into Malee's death and could then make plans to rescue the girls, like she'd promised Angel.

Savannah turned onto her side and tugged the bedclothes up around her shoulders. She was exhausted, emotionally drained and sore. Her feeble attempts on the stainless steel pole had rubbed skin off the inside of her thighs and she hadn't yet done anything about treating it. She needed to dab antiseptic ointment on the wounds and she needed to get some sleep.

She closed her eyes and as it did so often, an image of Will filled her mind. She bit her lip against the surge of emotion that burned behind her eyelids. It was a good thing to discover he was on her side-it was. She just had to come to terms with the not-so-good fact that he'd lied to her about it for so long. Delaying the truth was as good as a lie.

Or could be just as bad...

CHAPTER 16.

Wednesday morning The Daily Mirror office buzzed with the usual morning activity of ringing phones and coworkers who hammered away on keyboards. Low-grade anger and an ever-present anxiety stirred in Savannah's belly.

She'd woken that morning intending to have it out with Dylan, but by the time she'd showered and dressed, the couch in the living room was empty and her brother was nowhere to be seen. She'd called his cell phone a number of times, but each time, the call had rung out to voicemail. She'd lost count of the number of messages she'd left, each one more terse than its predecessor.

What was adding to her tension was that she also hadn't spoken to Pete. She'd called him an hour ago, but had only been able to leave him a message. Waiting for both men was eating away at her peace of mind.

The jarring ring of the telephone on her desk made her flinch, reminding her how edgy she was. s.n.a.t.c.hing up the receiver, she took a deep breath and answered.

"Daily Mirror."

"Savannah, it's Pete. Before you say anything, I want you to know I've spoken to Will. He told me everything."

And just like that, her anger resurfaced.

"How could you, Pete? How could you keep the fact that he was a detective from me? I've been investigating the Black Opal. I was knee-deep in it. I thought he was working with Vince Maranoa. I nearly printed a story in the paper about the ill.u.s.trious Will Rutledge and his double life. I-I could have destroyed him."

"I'm sorry, Savannah. I had no idea. The night of the ball, Will gave me some lame excuse about not wanting you to know about his occupation because you didn't like coppers. He told me he liked you and he wanted you to get a chance to know him before you judged him by his job. I didn't know until later that he thought you were a prost.i.tute with an active role in Maranoa's activities."

Heat stole up Savannah's neck and spread across her cheeks. She bit her lip and tried to think of a suitable reply. Before she could do so, Pete spoke again, his voice as dry as the Sahara.

"Don't worry, I know all about your forays into the Black Opal, including your attempts to partic.i.p.ate in the live entertainment." He swore succinctly. "I can't believe you'd be that stupid. Savannah. Who the h.e.l.l knows what might have happened if your cover had been blown? I think I aged ten years when Will told me."

Savannah was flooded with remorse. "I'm sorry, Pete. I didn't think. The first time I went in there, I didn't know anything about Maranoa or his reputation. Once I discovered what was happening... I-I had to go back."

"Why didn't you call the police? It would have been a h.e.l.l-of-a-lot-safer option."

"Well, I'm calling you now. I need your help."

"Is this about the illegal immigrants?"

"Yes! I'm so glad Will told you. Oh Pete, it's just awful! You have to do something about it. I promised Malee and Angel I'd help them. I promised you'd get them out of there."

"Tell me everything."

Savannah relayed what she'd seen and learned. After she'd finished, Pete was silent. Eventually, he spoke again.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes! I spoke to those girls, Pete. They're so young and scared stiff of Maranoa. They didn't want me to go to the police. I did my best to convince them it's their only hope."

"Leave it with me, Savannah. I a.s.sure you, there's a taskforce already on it. Immigration has been watching the brothel for months. I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before arrests are made and the girls released."

"Oh, thank G.o.d!" she breathed in relief. "I've been so worried! Ever since I saw that photo in the paper..."

Pete's tone sharpened. "What photo?"

"The one of the girl they dragged out of the harbor. I'm sure it was Malee."

"Are you telling me we're not only dealing with kidnapping and the supply of prohibited drugs, we're also talking murder?"

Savannah's heart was heavy. "I-I think so."

Pete cursed. "Why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me this before? I need you to meet with the homicide guys who are working that investigation as soon as possible."

"Yes, of course. Let me know where and when. I'll do anything I can to help."

"I'll get a number for you. In the meantime, stay out of that G.o.dd.a.m.ned brothel before you get yourself killed."

Savannah flushed again, but sighed softly. "Thanks, Pete. And thanks for listening. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

CHAPTER 17.

Wednesday afternoon Vince drew deeply on his cigarette and crushed it out against the overflowing ashtray that sat on his desk. Dylan watched him in silence and wondered with more than a little nervousness why he'd been summoned. Eventually, his boss spoke.