Caught by Red Garnier Page A

turned, and called out, with his gun firmly in his grip. “Ivan, I need to talk to you.”
    It was his twin, it had to be. The only damned bastard that had ever crept so easily past Cody’s radar. Megan shouldn’t be here, dammit.
    A noise came from up above, and when a book landed splat! three inches to her right, Megan jumped in alarm.
    Cody curled an arm around her waist, bending over so that only she could make out his whisper. “You’re all right, you’re with me.”
    She nodded fast enough to get dizzy. “What does he want?” she squeaked.
    â€œI don’t know, but I sure as hell would like to find out. Let’s talk to him for a bit, hmm?” He raised his head to scan the room, sure that Ivan was somewhere up in the rafters. “Ivan, if it’s you, come out here and talk to us.”
    A voice broke through the space as if spoken through a microphone. “Last time you talked to me you tossed my ass in jail, brother. ”
    Cody almost stumbled back when his brother’s baritone struck him. Holy fuck, genetics were amazing. Cody could’ve been doing the talking, their voices were identical. And then it barreled into him: and he knew exactly how this bastard would have managed to escape prison.
    Get his hands on a badge and a suit and—whoa, a crimson tie—and he’d look just like Cody.
    Heart pounding at the possibility of Ivan being smarter than he remembered, Cody searched for him up in the wood beams and the second level library, but failed to find him. He’d be climbing up there by now, he’d already have the bastard by the throat, if not for the scared little kitten currently holding on to his arm.
    â€œI’m on vacation this week,” he told his brother, as easily as though he were speaking to Zach in an attempt to inspire his confidence. “So what do you say we lunch together and talk? Noon? Meet me at Marcel’s Bistro in the Western Plaza.” He needed answers, and more than that, he needed that bastard back where he belonged. Serving a life term.
    The silence gave him hope, so he yanked out his business card, set it over the tome on the floor— Moby-Dick —and guided Megan out of there, calling behind his shoulder, “I’ll see you there.”
    Ivan wouldn’t follow.
    Not yet.
    The bastard wanted something, and Cody was pretty sure that she was currently walking in his arms.
    *   *   *
    Megan turned out to be quite the stubborn little package.
    She didn’t want to sleep at her house, and she refused to stay at the Rivers place if Cody wasn’t, and after Ivan had picked his locks, Cody couldn’t very well take her to his home, either. Plus, considering the fact that he only had one bed and the thought of Megan Banks’s juicy derriere sleeping in it drove Cody’s libido out of whack, his place was definitely out of the picture.
    So he ended up setting them up for the night at the Candelabra, a small, boutique hotel that was close enough to the Western Plaza shopping center to make his meeting with Ivan on time tomorrow.
    Since keeping things businesslike was the way to go, he got two connecting rooms with king-size beds, shared an early dinner downstairs with her, and once they went upstairs, threw himself into his research.
    At least, that was his plan.
    Megan seemed to have another idea.
    While Cody surveyed all the paperwork he’d brought, she padded out from her room and curled up next to him on the couch, cuddling against his chest.
    Within minutes she fell asleep, the soft sounds of her breathing audible in the silence, while Cody did his damnedest to concentrate and review everything he’d written about his brother on his first capture. Where he’d caught him last. Where he’d been seen before.
    â€œNo!” Megan suddenly murmured in her sleep.
    She tossed her head to the side, her hair falling in a waterfall of golden tresses