Ruthless Read online

  OUTSTANDING PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF LISA JACKSON

  YOU WILL PAY

  “This suspenseful thriller is packed with jaw-dropping twists.”

  —In Touch Weekly

  AFTER SHE’S GONE

  “Jackson generates near-constant suspense, weaving together disparate plot turns, directing a large cast of characters, and playing up movie-star egos and show-biz gossip to give the novel a vintage Hollywood feel.”

  —Booklist

  NEVER DIE ALONE

  “Jackson definitely knows how to keep readers riveted.”

  —Mystery Scene

  CLOSE TO HOME

  “Jackson definitely knows how to jangle readers’ nerves ... Close to Home is perfect for readers of Joy Fielding or fans of Mary Higgins Clark.”

  —Booklist

  TELL ME

  “Absolutely tension filled ... Jackson is on top of her game.”

  —Suspense Magazine

  YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW

  “Shiveringly good suspense!”

  —Lisa Gardner, New York Times bestselling author

  WITHOUT MERCY

  “A juicy creep-a-thon . . . builds to a surprising cliffhanger ending.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  Books by Lisa Jackson

  Stand-Alones

  SEE HOW SHE DIES

  FINAL SCREAM

  RUNNING SCARED

  WHISPERS

  TWICE KISSED

  UNSPOKEN

  DEEP FREEZE

  FATAL BURN

  MOST LIKELY TO DIE

  WICKED GAME

  WICKED LIES

  SOMETHING WICKED

  WICKED WAYS

  SINISTER

  WITHOUT MERCY

  YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW

  CLOSE TO HOME

  AFTER SHE’S GONE

  REVENGE

  YOU WILL PAY

  OMINOUS

  RUTHLESS

  Anthony Paterno/Cahill Family Novels

  IF SHE ONLY KNEW

  ALMOST DEAD

  Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya Novels

  HOT BLOODED

  COLD BLOODED

  SHIVER

  ABSOLUTE FEAR

  LOST SOULS

  MALICE

  DEVIOUS

  NEVER DIE ALONE

  Pierce Reed/Nikki Gillette Novels

  THE NIGHT BEFORE

  THE MORNING AFTER

  TELL ME

  Selena Alvarez/Regan Pescoli Novels

  LEFT TO DIE

  CHOSEN TO DIE

  BORN TO DIE

  AFRAID TO DIE

  READY TO DIE

  DESERVES TO DIE

  EXPECTING TO DIE

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  RUTHLESS

  LISA JACKSON

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Compilation copyright © 2018 by Kensington Publishing Corporation With No Regrets copyright © 1990 by Lisa Jackson

  Double Exposure copyright © 1990 by Lisa Jackson

  D Is for Dani’s Baby copyright © 1995 by Susan Crose

  All three titles comprising Ruthless were originally published by Silhouette Books.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4640-0

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4641-7

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-4641-6

  Table of Contents

  OUTSTANDING PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF LISA JACKSON

  Books by Lisa Jackson

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  WITH NO REGRETS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DOUBLE EXPOSURE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  D IS FOR DANI’S BABY

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  WITH NO REGRETS

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You can’t do this to me!” Kimberly Bennett’s fingers curled around the smooth oak arms of her chair. She stared, dumbfounded, at her attorney.

  “And here I thought you’d be the first to offer congratulations!” Diane Welby, petite and blond, leaned her chin on her clasped hands. Her elbows were planted firmly on the top of her wide desk, and her eyes fairly sparkled. “I’m getting married, for God’s sake!”

  “I know, I know, but why now?” Kimberly asked, seeing all her plans go down the proverbial drain.

  “Because Scott asked me.” Diane had been widowed for seven years.

  Kimberly’s brows drew together in vexation. “Fine. Congratulations. I’m glad you’re getting married, Diane, really, but do you have to move out of the state?”

  “Scott’s job is in L.A.”

  “But your practice is here and I need you!”

  Diane sighed. “You don’t need me—you need a good lawyer.”

  “You are a good lawyer. The best,” Kimberly said, a slow panic spreading through her when she thought of her ex-husband and his most recent demands. She shivered. There was a side to Robert she hated to think about—a deadly side. “Robert’s not kidding. He’s threatened to take Lindsay away.”

  Diane grew sober. She tapped her pen on her desk. “Look, Kim, he doesn’t have much of a leg to stand on. The court already decided to grant you custody.”

  “But that was before he cared,” Kimberly pointed out, feeling her hands begin to sweat. As soon as the divorce had become final, Robert had married his mistress, a gorgeous woman who was blind to Robert’s flaws—just as Kimberly had been, years before.

  “And now he cares?” Obviously Diane didn’t believe it.

  “Apparently!”

  “Why?”

  Kimberly’s throat felt tight. “I guess Stella can’t give him a son, either.”

  “And now he’ll settle for a daughter?” Diane asked dryly.

  H
ot injustice swept through Kimberly’s veins. “So it seems.”

  Diane’s mouth clamped together thoughtfully. “You know, I wouldn’t just abandon you. I know Robert and how ... determined he can be. The man who bought my practice is a lawyer—the best—and he’s agreed to either take my pending cases or refer them to someone else.”

  “I don’t want some man I’ve never met.” Kimberly insisted, trying to hang on to her rapidly escaping calm. “I want you.” Unnerved, she stood, folded her arms across her chest and walked past Diane’s desk to the window. She watched a few dying maple leaves fall to the wet asphalt of the parking lot. In the past few years Robert had changed, and his reputation had become black as ink. No court would give him custody—or would it? She couldn’t trust fate. “Maybe it’s crazy, but I’d rather have a woman represent me.”

  “Why?”

  Kimberly shrugged.

  “Let me guess. You think a woman can better understand your maternal feelings?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced over the shoulder of her black suit. “A man might sympathize with Robert.”

  Diane scowled. “I doubt it. And as for Jake—”

  “Who?”

  “Jake McGowan, the lawyer who bought me out.”

  “Oh.”

  “He can help you. And he’ll do a damn good job.” Diane’s voice was filled with admiration.

  “He works on custody cases?” Kimberly asked without much interest.

  “He used to.”

  “Used to?” Kimberly whirled, her blue-green gaze pinned on Diane’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Diane lifted a shoulder and slid her gaze away from Kimberly’s. “He concentrates on corporate law now. You know—taxes, mergers, that sort of thing.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Kimberly said, thinking of the bevy of lawyers who were retained by the bank for which she worked. And then there were the attorneys who had worked for Robert. It seemed as if half the lawyers in Portland had been on her ex-husband’s payroll at one time or another. She worried her lip. The name McGowan was familiar—but not as one of Robert’s gophers. No ... but there was something . . .

  “At one time Jake McGowan was the best domestic relations attorney in Portland.”

  “‘Was’ seems to be the operative word,” Kimberly challenged.

  Diane twisted in her chair so that she could stare up at Kimberly and hold her with her frank blue gaze. Her forehead creased thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t refer you to him unless I had absolute faith. He’s the best. The man you need. There was a time when he hadn’t lost a case.”

  “And what happened?”

  Diane hesitated. “He had a few personal problems.”

  “Oh great.”

  “But they’re in the past. Listen, Kim, would I refer you to him if he weren’t the best? He’ll go up against anyone Robert hires and come out on top.”

  “You’re sure”

  “As sure as I am about anything.”

  Kimberly felt Diane was holding something back—something important. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “Nothing. As I said, at one time he was the best in the business. He still could be.”

  “If . . .” Kimberly prodded.

  Diane’s mouth tightened. “If he were properly motivated.”

  “‘If he were motivated.’” Kimberly repeated with more than a trace of cynicism. “This isn’t some case in one of your textbooks, you know. This is my life, and Lindsay’s.”

  “That’s why you need Jake.”

  Kimberly wasn’t convinced but forced a thin smile and raked her fingers through her long hair. A headache was building behind her eyes. “You know, I think it’s wonderful that you’re getting married again. Really.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “Maybe I’m just envious.”

  “You? The woman who’s sworn off men for life?”

  Kimberly managed a thin smile. “Yeah, but Scott’s a great guy, and I’m sure you’ll be happy breathing all that smog in L.A.—”

  Diane laughed.

  “I’m just disappointed, that’s all. I was counting on you.”

  “So, count on McGowan. Believe me, he can help you. Better than I can. I’ll leave a note with Sarah—she’s staying on—and she’ll set up an appointment for you in the next couple of weeks.” Diane touched Kimberly on the shoulder, “Trust me.”

  “I guess I have to,” she said, feeling as if she had no other choice.

  “You’ll like him, I guarantee it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’ll be the first woman who didn’t.”

  “Oh great. A lady-killer.” Kimberly wasn’t impressed. Robert had cured her of that.

  Diane shook her head. “It’s not intentional,” she said.

  “Good. Not that it matters. He wouldn’t get to me.”

  “Oh?”

  Kimberly skewered the lawyer with a suspicious look. “I’m not in the market for a man—any man. If Robert taught me one thing, it’s that I can only depend on myself.” She offered Diane a small smile. “I’m just interested in McGowan if he can help me keep my daughter.”

  “He can.” Diane was firm.

  Kimberly’s answer was a skeptical smile. She glanced out the window, noticing that the ominous sky had opened up and rain was pounding the horizon in furious, windblown waves. Raindrops drizzled in jagged rivulets across the windows. The gutters of the old cottage-turned-office gurgled. Ever-widening puddles appeared on the uneven asphalt of the parking lot. Kimberly’s thoughts were as dark as the slate colored sky. Could anyone really help her if Robert decided to follow through on his demands? Or worse yet, would Robert ignore the law, as she suspected he had in the past, and just steal Lindsay away? Kimberly’s fist clenched. Over my dead body.

  If it was the last thing she ever did, she’d keep Lindsay safe with her. And if it took Jake McGowan or an act of God to do so, then so be it.

  Robert, whether he knew it or not, was in for the fight of his miserable life!

  She left Diane’s office and headed home, stopping for groceries before driving through the dark, rain-slickened streets to her neighborhood, an older section in the southeast section of Portland known as Sellwood.

  Her house, built in the early twenties, was a story and a half, painted white, trimmed in beet red and mortgage free. Though a little cramped inside, the rooms were cozy and big enough to accommodate a single mother and an energetic five-year-old. The fenced yard was surrounded by a laurel hedge and was equipped with a sandbox, picnic table and swing set. True, the house wasn’t nearly as grand as the massive brick colonial she’d shared with Robert during their marriage, but the little cottage would do. And do nicely. If only Robert would leave things as they were.

  As if expecting Robert or one of his shady underlings to be watching, she glanced nervously over her shoulder, then shook off her case of nerves. She couldn’t afford paranoia—not now.

  She locked the car, then, balancing two grocery sacks, ducked under a dripping clematis and hurried up the cracked concrete walk to the back door.

  “I’m home,” she called as she stepped into the kitchen and shook the rain from her hair. She heard a high-pitched squeal and the scamper of excited feet as Lindsay clambered through the hardwood halls to the kitchen.

  “Mommy!” Two blond pigtails, their ribbons long gone, streamed behind an impish face and sparkling blue eyes. Lindsay flung herself at her mother.

  “How’re ya, pumpkin?” Kimberly asked, scooping her daughter into her arms and kissing Lindsay’s flushed cheek.

  “Hungry!”

  “Oh, don’t tell me, Arlene doesn’t feed you?” Kimberly guessed, laughing as she pointed to the stains from lunch on the front of Lindsay’s sweatshirt.

  Lindsay’s lower lip protruded. “She doesn’t feed me enough!”

  With a chuckle Arlene Henderson, a neighbor who took care of Lindsay while Kimberly worked, entered the room. An energetic
, whip-thin woman of fifty-five, Arlene seemed taller than her five feet two inches. With frizzy, steel-gray hair and twinkling brown eyes, she winked broadly at Lindsay. “She’s just mad ’cause I won’t let her have a cookie until after supper. We made pumpkin cookies today, didn’t we?” she asked a still-pouting Lindsay. “Even though Halloween’s long over and Christmas is just around the corner.”

  Kimberly chuckled, but Lindsay’s brow pulled into deep furrows. “I’m starving,” she complained, rubbing her stomach theatrically.

  “You’ll survive,” Kimberly predicted. “We’re going to have hamburgers in less than a half an hour.”

  “At McDonald’s!”

  “No, here.”

  Lindsay frowned again, then squirmed out of her mother’s arms. “I like McDonald’s better,” she pronounced, sneaking a sly look up at Kimberly.

  “I know you do.”

  “And they’ve got fries and McNuggets and—and fruit pies!”

  “We’ll go on Saturday,” Kimberly promised.

  “Tonight!”

  “Then not at all.”

  “Saturday!” Lindsay cried.

  “Fair enough.”

  Mollified, Lindsay cast a suspicious look over her shoulder and wandered back into the living room. Once there, she began assembling Legos in front of the television.

  “Robert stopped by today,” Arlene said when the child was out of earshot.

  Kimberly felt a cold knot settle in the pit of her stomach.

  “What did he want?”

  “To talk to Lindsay, which he did.” Arlene scowled as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her oversized jacket. “Of course I didn’t leave the room. I don’t trust him.”

  Kimberly fought down the panic that crawled up her spine. “What did he want?”