Charmed and Dangerous Read Free Page B

aggravating him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Call it retribution for the way his rugged good looks provoked her heretic hormones.
    David glared. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
    “Go on.”
    “Peyton Shriver is thirty-eight, a native of Liverpool, England,” he said. “His father was a petty criminal who fell in with a dangerous crowd, got involved in armed robbery and ended up a lifer. His mother was an alcoholic who was run down by a truck on her way home from the liquor store when Shriver was ten.”
    “Poor kid.”
    “Save your sympathy. Shriver’s aunt Josephine took him in. She lived in New York City and she’d married into money. She didn’t have any kids of her own and she doted on her charming nephew. When Josephine died, her husband cut Shriver off without a cent. Desperate for a way to support the lifestyle he’d come to enjoy, he launched a series of sweetheart scams, focusing mainly on older women.”
    “What’s that got to do with my sister?”
    “Hold on. I’m getting to that. There was one victim in particular. Her family once had a great deal of money, but the fortune had been squandered over the years. She had planned on funding her retirement with the last remaining family heirloom, a Rembrandt worth close to a million dollars. Shriver romanced her, then waltzed away with the painting.”
    Something in his expression, something in the way his body tensed told Maddie this case meant more to him than just business. He’d flattened out his lips, fisted his hands and broadened his stance, as if secretly readying himself for a fight.
    Had he known the woman with the Rembrandt? Was his pursuit of Shriver as much about revenge as duty?
    “After that theft, Shriver dropped out of sight for several years,” David said.
    “Living off the money from the Rembrandt,” Maddie guessed.
    He nodded. “A few months ago a new spate of art thefts bearing Shriver’s unique pretty boy signature—but focusing mainly on museum employees rather than rich women with private collections as before—began cropping up all over Europe. The FBI has been working closely with Interpol and we’ve tracked Shriver to Fort Worth. He’s been casing the Kimbell and he started a relationship with Cassie.”
    “He’s using her,” Maddie said flatly.
    “Yes.”
    “But you’re using her too.”
    “Okay,” he admitted. “But I only approached her because Shriver is completely nonviolent. He’s never hurt any of the women he’s charmed.”
    “What about those other women? Why didn’t you recruit them? Why single out my sister?”
    “None of the other victims would testify against him and Cassie was not only willing, but eager to help.”
    “Why am I not surprised,” Maddie muttered under her breath.
    “With Cassie’s assistance, I had a good chance of foiling the robbery and finally putting Shriver away for a very long time.”
    “Had?” His tone made her nervous.
    David cleared his throat. “Yesterday I discovered an old friend of Shriver’s had blown into town.”
    “Yeah?”
    “The guy’s name is Jocko Blanco. He’s also a thief, among other things.”
    “What sort of other things?” she asked, even though she was afraid to hear the answer.
    “Armed robbery, gun running, drug smuggling. You name it, he’s done it.”
    “Even physical violence?” Maddie croaked.
    He paused. “I’m afraid so.”
    She felt the blood drain from her face and her head spun dizzily.
    “Don’t panic,” David said. “I was meeting Cassie to pull her off the case and offer her police protection.”
    “But she hasn’t shown up.” Maddie swept a hand at the empty park, the old familiar dread flooding through her body.
    “No, she hasn’t.”
    She gulped. This wasn’t good news. Not good at all.
    David’s cell phone drolly played the theme from Dragnet.
    “Do you think it could be Cassie?” Maddie asked. “Does she have your cell phone number?”
    “She does.” He yanked the phone from