Free Outlaw Justice (Decorah Security Series, Book #13): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novella by REBECCA YORK

along.”
    Explanations danced through her head, but she knew none of them was going to do her any good.
    “Take him into the sunroom,” Warren said, clamping his hand painfully on Leah’s arm. When the trio had passed, he led her down the hall after them.
    She fought a sick feeling as Warren pushed her onto the couch beside Steve.
    “Sorry,” she whispered.
    “Shut the fuck up,” her husband ordered. “I know you were poking into my business. Your boyfriend in my office proves it. But there’s nothing for him to find up there. I don’t keep records on paper, and he can’t get into my computer.”
    “He’s not my boyfriend.”
    “Then what’s he doing here?”
    She didn’t answer, because anything she said would be wrong—as far as Warren was concerned.
    He must have caught the sick expression on her face.
    “Yes, I know what you’re up to. After you didn’t find anything, you hired this guy.” He jerked his head toward Steve. “But you don’t have any money, so you must have been paying him with sex.”
    Leah’s face flamed. She couldn’t deny that she was sleeping with Steve, but it was nothing like what Warren had said. It hadn’t been for any kind of payment.
    oOo
    Steve interjected himself into the conversation, keeping his voice hard and even. “I do know something about your work ethic, actually. You’re laundering drug and prostitution money for Malcolm Herman—Malcolm the Hammer—through your retail businesses. And now you’re afraid the IRS is going to figure it out.”
    Warren’s eyes bugged as though he’d turned into a bullfrog. The reaction told Steve he’d hit the mark with his educated guess about the guy on the other end of the line. Malcolm the Hammer was a well-known Baltimore crime figure.
    Though Warren blanched, he kept his voice even. “You’re lying. There’s no way you could get to that.”
    “But I did. And I know that you’re also in trouble with his organization because you’re not getting the job done fast enough.”
    “Jesus. How did you figure any of that?”
    Without hearing the other end of the conversation, Steve had done a lot of guessing—partly based on Leah’s description of Warren’s behavior. He’d been nervous about something—and was taking it out on her.
    Reaching for another bluff, he added, “Candy told me.”
    “What?” Pendelton spat out, the syllable sharp as a steel blade.
    “I got it from Candy,” Steve said again. “You’re fucking her, but she’s not the loyal little girl you thought she’d be. In fact, she’s probably about to go to the Feds on her own because rats always desert a sinking ship.”
    Warren’s eyes blazed. “I’ll take care of you in a minute.” Stepping to the door, he shouted, “Get in here.”
    When there was no response, he shouted again, “Get your ass in here before I kick it around the block.”
    Candy appeared in the doorway. She’d changed from the dress she’d been wearing that afternoon into jeans and a pale yellow knit top. But the most conspicuous thing about her was the way her face had drained of color.
    “So you’ve betrayed me too,” Warren bellowed.
    If possible her skin went a couple of shades paler. “No. I would never. I did just what you asked me to do. I went down and tried to bring Leah home. And here she is,” she added, stretching out her arm as though she was a magician who had just pulled off a seemingly impossible trick.
    Pendelton laughed. “Nice try. No thanks to you. And when did you clue him in to my business dealings?” he asked, jerking his head toward Steve.
    “I didn’t. He’s lying.”
    “Then how the hell would he know anything?”
    All she could do was give Pendelton a blank stare.
    The two bodyguards had turned toward the couple exchanging angry words. With no time to warn Leah what he was doing, Steve stood, braced his bad leg, and picked up the heavy wooden coffee table in front of the sofa. Putting all his weight into the throw, he hurled it