“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU and what do you want?” Dakota Raferty demanded as he was near-blinded by the light shining in his face.
Giving no answer, the person clicked off the flashlight and made a furtive dart forward to shove at something. He put out his hands in self-defense as a window came flying at him. He caught it by the frame and shoved it back against the wall as the dark-clad figure zigzagged in the other direction and scrambled over the edge of the desk.
“Oh, no, you don't,” he growled.
Knowing his size and strength to be superior, Dakota tackled the would-be thief, determined that he would teach the fellow that crime didn't pay.
But, as they went down to the tile floor together, Dakota felt full flesh under his hands that could only belong to a woman. A not-so-small-or-weak one at that. She was tall and strong and determined. She fought him with everything she had even while trying to hold on to whatever she'd broken into his office to get.
Even so, Dakota took the advantage of his greater size, swinging a leg over her body to pin her. He grasped her wrists and jerked. Her prize slipped away with the whoosh of papers being strewn across the floor.
“Who are you and what were you trying to steal?” he demanded, dragging her hands up over her head and pinning them to the floor.
He was straddling his captive, holding her hips firmly in place with his knees. Her flesh was luxurious but tightly muscled – the proof of which he felt as she heaved and tried to buck him off – and he figured she was into fitness training. Must be, considering her profession or avocation, whichever burglary was.
“You can answer me... or the police,” he threatened when her furious silence continued.
Abruptly, she stopped struggling. “All right,” she finally said, her voice low and husky and filled with emotion he recognized as panic. “Let me up and I'll tell you.”
“How about if you tell me and then maybe I'll think about letting you up.”
He had the upper hand and might have kept to the threat if a sob hadn't caught in her throat. And she was trembling under him. She couldn't hide her fear.
Served her right, he thought, telling himself not to soften just because she was a woman.
Despite the self-admonishment, Dakota rose. He was careful to keep his right hand firmly wrapped around her wrist, however. He tugged none-too-gently -- she was a thief, after all, afraid or not – and dragged her to the wall where he threw on a light switch.
What greeted his gaze took him aback.
“I know you,” he said, inspecting familiar green eyes, porcelain complexion, and flawless features revealed by copper hair drawn back into a French braid. “Don't I?”
She blinked and he could see the truth of his words in her eyes. Then her expression changed subtly.
“Sure you do. I'm a friend of Marc Lucas,” she explained, naming one of Dakota's fellow lobbyists. “We met briefly at a party several months ago.”
Dakota knew that to be a lie. Marc had only been with PILC for six weeks and they'd never met before that.
“A party,” he echoed, playing along, wondering how far she'd try to take him. She was a striking woman with a body to match and he suspected she wouldn't hesitate to use whatever she thought would work to con him. His guard doubled. “I'm sure I would remember you.”
”You said you knew me.”
“But I forgot your name.”
He could tell she was thinking quickly before she answered, “Sandy Mitchell. Marc wanted to play a practical joke on you and I was helping him out.”
“Try again.”
“What do you mean?”
She was good. Her expression was somewhere between innocent and indignant. A great actress.
Actress.
That was it.
He visualized her with masses of rich copper-red curls brushing her high cheekbones as well as shoulders and a perfect back, both bared by a scanty copper-colored evening gown or an even scantier bathing suit. He'd seen those commercials and magazine ads for Flawless products dozens of times – he'd had a personal interest in them because the cosmetic company was his sister's account. More so than in the movies or television, Honor had used the wonderful world of advertising to make her name.
“Honor Bright.” He let go of her wrist. Now that he had her identity, he didn't need to hold her by force. The knowledge was enough to keep her in line until he got some answers. “We've never met before but I recognize the face. Plus, I know my sister Syd set you up with work here in Seattle.”
The situation was becoming even more puzzling. Could his younger sister have something to do with this fiasco? Dakota wondered, though he couldn't think of Sydney being involved in anything even slightly illegal after what she'd just been through.
Before he could probe, Honor said, “That's why I didn't want to do this. Because of Sydney, I mean.”
She winced as she rubbed her wrist gingerly, making Dakota wonder if he'd really hurt her, though why he should care he didn't know. Considering she had broken into his office – making him the victim of a crime in this situation – he was behaving quite reasonably.
“We're friends,” Honor went on, “and I owe Sydney a lot. Not that I wanted to steal anything at all. You have to believe I was forced into this.” Her forehead furled into a frown. “But why from you? It's so weird. I've been asking myself that all day.”
She truly sounded as if she didn't know.
Dakota leaned back against a desk and crossed his arms over his pin-striped chest. “Why me? Good question. Maybe if you tell me the truth about what's going on here we can figure it out.”
“What's going on is...”
Her voice faded off and her forehead crumpled further indicating the intensity of her distress. He thought she was about to cry, but she pulled herself together and faced him with a neutral expression.
“Promise me no police,” she said.
“Hey, I'm not promising anything. I don't have to. I can call the police any time I want. Like now.” He reached for the telephone.
“No, don't.” She caught his hand and her pleading gaze met his. “You win -- all right? They said if I told anyone, she would die. You just remember that.” She took a deep breath. “My daughter Nora has been kidnaped, so you can't call the police.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Dakota couldn't tell whether the emotion was real or manufactured. Acting was Honor Bright's profession and he remembered her being good at it whether she'd had a bit part or a starring role or was merely posing for an ad.
“How do I know you're not lying?”
She blinked and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She let go of his hand to brush the moisture away. “I guess trusting me is out of the question, right?”
Despite himself, Dakota was moved. He wanted to believe her. Only he couldn't quite manage such trust without more information.
“Who kidnaped your daughter?”
“I don't know. Yesterday we went to the Space Needle for a Sunday afternoon outing. We were having such a good time.” She swallowed hard. “Then someone bumped into me and the contents of my purse scattered all over. I only turned my back to pick things up for a few seconds... but that was long enough. They got Nora out in that crowd right under my nose.”
The tears were falling freely now and, studying her intently, Dakota could tell they weren't the first she'd shed. The skin around her eyes was puffy and the whites were threaded with red. She'd been doing a lot of crying about something recently.
“What do they want?” he asked gruffly. She was touching his emotions whether he would or no.
“Not money. They wouldn't take my money. One of them called last night. The voice was synthesized... you know, electronically processed so I couldn't even tell if it was a man or woman. Whoever it was said I had to get my hands on classified information about your lobbying efforts concerning the salmon industry.” She choked out a laugh. “My daughter for some information on fish. I don't understand.”
But Dakota did. “That explains why they chose you, I guess, since you're the spokesperson for the Northwest Coast Salmon Council – the competition, such as it is.”
For whatever reasons, Honor had left the fast lane of Hollywood. His sister Sydney, who'd worked with Honor on the highly successful Flawless ad campaign, had suggested the NCSC job.
“What's so important about these files?”
“You don't need to know that.”
The documents dealt with highly sensitive issues involving NCSC. Individuals' testimony and photos, evidence the council was whitewashing illegal salmon fishing activities. Dakota would use the information in his lobbying efforts to enact stricter controls. He hadn't figured the opposition had even known what they had.
“I never guessed someone would be willing to put a little girl in jeopardy and make her mother a criminal for these,” he said, indicating the documents. And then, more firmly, “Finding the kidnappers is a job for the police.”
“You can't call the police!” Honor cried, sounding as if she were fighting hysteria. “Nora's only a baby. Only four years old. I can't lose her.”
“Professionals know how to handle–”
”No.” She grabbed onto his arm, her long nails pressing into his flesh through the fabric of his suit jacket. “Please, I'm begging you. Please.”
Honor was weeping openly now and her sobs tore at Dakota's heart. And still he suspected she could be acting to get what she wanted. For God's sake, he didn't even know for certain if she had a daughter.
Besides, he wasn't a man to overlook a crime. Raised by a father who was a judge, he'd spent his entire life working for and within the law, working for the public interest. His finely honed sense of justice demanded he get satisfaction from the situation, not only for himself, but for the people he might soon represent at a national level.
He wanted to know who and why... and wanted to prosecute the guilty parties to the extent of the law.
“No police,” he agreed tersely, “on one condition.”
“What?”
“You'll have to prove yourself.”
“Anything. I'll do anything,” she promised.
“Good.” Though Dakota didn't think she was going to like this one. “Because you're going to have to work with me to turn the tables on the kidnappers.”