Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

Cole had called twice since leaving the day before. He’d barely been gone for thirty-six hours, and she missed him.

Emma wrapped up another fruitless day of research at Weston Security. Thus far, her only accomplishment in her search for Jacob was a heaping pile of frustration.

She logged out, packed up her purse, and headed for Cole’s home, the ever present Joey trailing a discreet distance behind. At night, a man named William took Joey’s place, but during the day, it was always Joey. Emma sincerely hoped he was getting paid overtime.

She halted abruptly and spun around. Joey had already stopped, unobtrusively lounging near the enormous fern that graced the building’s lobby.

“Hey, Joey,” Emma called to the man. He glanced her way, expressionless. He was good. “Come on. I’m tired of being followed, and you have to be tired of watching me do nothing but search on the computer and then head home.”

After the discussion about the little fruit tree, she’d turned down two invitations from Zach and Lizzie for dinner. She didn’t need her budding relationship with them distracting her. With Cole out of town, she’d focused intensively on what really mattered.

Jacob.

Joey joined her for dinner at a Chinese restaurant, where he loosened up enough to share a few stories about growing up on a farm. Then, he followed her to Cole’s house where once again, he searched the premises before making himself comfortable in the family room.

Emma went to her room early, tired and needing time alone to think.

A little after nine, her phone rang.

She looked at the number. Blocked. Her hand trembled as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Emma.” Grant’s voice was hushed. “Can you get away from muscle man and meet me on the corner north of Cole’s house? I have a lead, but we don’t have much time.”

A lead!
After two days of following information that brought her no closer to Jacob, she had what might prove a real lead.

“And Emma?” Grant paused, the urgency in his voice slamming her back into reality.

“Yes?”

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

She frowned.

“Try not to let that show.” He disconnected.

Indecision held her frozen as precious seconds ticked by, her promise to stick close to Joey or his nighttime replacement warring with her excitement over a possible clue to her brother’s whereabouts. Then, the driving need find Jacob, no matter the cost, triumphed. She hurried to the kitchen, slowing as she passed through the family room where Joey watched television, and microwaved two cups of water for tea.

Returning to the main room, she handed one cup to Joey.

He smiled and thanked her. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

“I know. It’s just, I appreciate your work.” Really, she did. Suppressing another wave of guilt, she added. “Oh, darn, I’m sorry, I forgot the sugar.” He liked his tea sweet.

“No problem. I’ll get it.”

As soon as he disappeared, Emma flew to the entry and disarmed the security system before rushing back upstairs.

Three minutes later, Emma stepped onto the balcony off Cole’s room and dropped soundlessly to the ground. She had dressed in the same jeans, jacket, and jersey hat she’d been wearing when Cole crashed into her at the warehouse. With any luck, she and Grant would follow the lead and return with Joey and William none the wiser.

She stayed hidden in the trees until she reached the street and then jogged north, her hair tucked under her hat. A dark car pulled up beside her. She kept running, her hand wrapped securely around her Mace. The window rolled down.

“Get in,” Grant’s low voice called urgently.

She darted around and slid in the passenger seat. He pulled back into the sporadic traffic.

“Sorry for the cloak and dagger stuff. I found a guy who would talk with us. But he’s scared.” Grant glanced her way. “Everyone who knows Alistair is scared of him, whether they’re with him or against him. He’s a snake.”

Memories of the snake-branch on the deserted island popped into her mind. She might get to use her pepper spray eventually.

“We’re going to see Yuri. He was one of the carriers in Russia. I met him years ago, before I made my escape into Jack’s life.” His eyes sliced in her direction again, and his grim expression lightened. “Nice hat.”

He drove for over half an hour. She watched the hands on the car clock tick slowly by, hoping Joey wouldn’t notice her absence.

The pristine boulevards of Cole’s neighborhood gave way to increasingly narrow streets. Trash began to litter their route, and street lights grew dimmer. Even the moon and stars seemed to lose their shine.

She slipped her hand in her pocket to fidget with her Mace.

At last, they pulled in to the pitted parking lot of a shady bar. She was quite certain it was the worst part of town she’d ever visited.

Grant reached across her, causing her to startle. Embarrassed by her nervous state, she took a deep breath. She could do this.

He opened the glove box and pulled out a gun.

Fair or not, somehow his gun didn’t inspire the same confidence as Cole’s.

Shoving the weapon into his belt at the small of his back, he searched her face. “Are you ready?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Are you sure?”

She peered into the dark night. “Well, I’m sure not staying here alone in the car.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

She nodded and opened her door. Grant met her at the front of the car, and they strode toward the door of the ramshackle building. He opened the thick, pockmarked door and ushered her inside.

The smoke-filled bar forced her to take shallow breaths. She fought the urge to gag, certain her chances of suffering lung cancer had just doubled. Women in low-cut, short dresses served drinks. If there was a real set of breasts in the place besides hers, she’d be surprised.

Men turned to stare as they entered. Emma fought the urge to pull her hat lower over her forehead. She was thankful to be wearing an over-sized sweatshirt under her jacket and not the form-fitting sweater she’d worn to the office earlier that day.

Grant steered her toward the back booth where a man dressed in work clothes half rose from his seat. He offered a brusque nod and sat back down. A half empty mug of beer rested before him.

Yuri was an older man, his broad face scarred, two fingers on his left hand missing. Not for the first time, Emma wondered if she was an idiot to be here with Grant.

She didn’t need much imagination to know what Cole would say.

They slid into the seat across from Yuri.

“Thank you for meeting us.” Grant’s low voice carried the icy edge of danger.

She glanced at him in surprise. The man she knew, who had hurt her heart, but never her body, transformed before her. He was a little frightening.

Thank God.

“Is good. You find Alistair, you kill him for me.” Yuri raised his hand. “At least you take his fingers, yes?”

Grant nodded. “Killing him would be a pleasure. I don’t think fingers would be enough.”

Yuri laughed. “Let us take care of business.”

Grant pushed several bills across the table. Emma glimpsed Benjamin Franklin. Hundred dollar bills. Information was expensive.

Yuri passed them an envelope. “Good luck.” He nodded, dismissing them as the money disappeared into his pocket. He raised the beer in a silent toast to someone who wasn’t at the table and downed the rest of his drink.

That was it? Emma looked at Grant. Already exiting the booth, he seemed satisfied with the transaction. He reached back to pull her from her seat.

They left less than five minutes after they’d entered, and she’d never said a word. She glanced back to see Yuri disappearing out the back door.

Once they were in the car, Emma inhaled deeply, unable to escape the scent of smoke and debauchery that clung to her clothes and hair, seemed to permeate even her skin.

Grant opened the envelope and removed a pass key and a slip of paper. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Listen, maybe I should just take you home and conduct this next part of the search myself.” A frown creased his brow, barely visible in the shadows.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m coming. You’re doing me a favor. It’ll be faster and safer with two people instead of one.”

He glanced her way before pulling out into the dark street, uncertainty written on his face. “Well, we are headed to a respectable part of town. I recognize the name. It’s the lawyer my dad used for one of his patents—before he got mixed up with Forrester.”

“I want to come. You can count on me, Grant.” She infused her voice with confidence.

He grunted. “Whether I can count on you or not, Cole will kill me when he finds out about this.”

Emma nodded her agreement. “Well you should have thought of that before you called. You’re committed now. Besides,” she forced a jaunty smile, “how much worse can things get? We’ve already survived a hell hole. A little breaking and entering should be a piece of cake.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she regretted them, unable to escape the feeling that she’d jinxed the whole damn thing.

Chapter Twenty-One

Emma cursed under her breath. Getting into the sprawling office building had been surprisingly easy. But after Grant gained access to this office with the pass key, she’d quickly discovered she wasn’t cut out for this mission. She jumped at every noise, expecting to be caught.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, demanding her attention. Cole. She was certain without even looking. He’d called the first time as they left the car. Sweeping her penlight over the mahogany desk, she noted the crystal paperweight and old-fashioned, silver pen set. A leather couch sat under heavily curtained windows on the far side of the room. Despite the spaciousness, she felt claustrophobic. It had been easier to tackle armed men on the beach than it was to be a sitting duck in this office.

She refused to consider that it had been Cole’s presence that made the difference.

The search for incriminating evidence was proving futile. Her free hand tapped against her leg in annoyance as the penlight continued its sweep of nearby bookshelves.

“What is your problem?” Grant whispered, eyes focused on the computer. He’d begun downloading files as soon as they’d arrived, had searched the desk drawers, and now was waiting for the download to complete. Emma didn’t hold much hope of finding something there. Even a newbie researcher like her knew the good stuff was hidden or encrypted and not just available for download by any passerby with a USB stick.

“My problem is I’m nervous, I just missed Cole’s second call, and well, I’m nervous,” she hissed, hating to admit she wasn’t cut out for this. And she hadn’t wanted Cole to worry, had hoped to tell him about this adventure after the fact, when her success in finding her brother mitigated what he would likely view at best as bad judgment and at worst as a betrayal of trust. Her phone vibrated once in her pocket, a reminder that she had voicemail.

She pulled one book after another off the shelves, looking both behind the heavy law volumes and also thumbing quickly through the pages of each book. A piece of paper floated to the floor, covered with a list of numbers. She shoved it in her pocket. She flipped through the last two books. Finally, she’d finished the full section of bookshelves.

Adrenaline coursed through her blood, making her jittery. She was definitely more suited to running for her life than clandestine breaking and entering.

“Almost finished.” Grant’s whisper seemed loud in the dark office.

She zipped the folded paper into her pocket and rounded the desk to join him. Voices sounded in the hall. Her heart lunged into her throat, and she reached in her pocket to turn her phone completely off.

Grabbing her hand as he pulled the USB out of the computer, he depressed the power button and tugged her toward the leather sofa. They crouched behind it just before the door opened and a Russian, accented voice complained, “This is the last time I take orders from the old man.”

Were they talking about Alistair? Her fear subsided as she strained to hear each word. Grant placed his hand on her arm. She’d started to rise to see what was happening.

“It’s too damn dark in here.” The second man groused.

“No, don’t turn on the light. It’s better if no one knows we are here.”

Drawers opened and closed. “Ah, here it is.” A drawer shut again.

What had they taken? Her eyes narrowed. Had Grant missed something? Maybe they’d taken the appointment book Grant had found. The men returned to the hall to continue their conversation, unaware a second set of intruders remained hidden in the office.

Emma bit her lower lip. They were well hidden, but until the men finished yacking in the hall, they were also well and truly stuck.

…

Cole flopped into the white chair in the sitting room of his hotel. He preferred more Parisian lodgings, but this trip found him ensconced in one of the hotel chains in the Left Bank—a five star hotel where a traveler could set up an office or meeting area in one room and escape work in the other. Although during this trip, there’d been no visitors to his room and no escape from work or worry.

He tossed his phone onto the dark wood. Three calls and no answer. Having spent most of the last twenty-four hours in seedy cafés where most patrons would rather knife you than buy you a drink, it felt good to have a drink in a place that was clean. Now, if Emma would just answer the damn phone.

Thank God she’d agreed to stay in New York. The thought of her in the kind of filthy, immoral places he’d visited made his blood run cold. He missed her, but, damn, he was glad she’d remained safely behind, with Weston Security’s guards nearby for protection.

It bothered him that she’d declined Lizzie’s invitations to dinner. He felt an increasing urgency to get back and find out what was running through her mind, although, their phone calls had been pleasant enough. No indication that anything beyond her concern for Jacob bothered her.

That and the fact that she missed him. He’d felt ridiculously pleased when she’d whispered the words to him.

Hopefully, one more day and he’d be home.

He splashed the golden drink into his glass and collapsed into the soft leather. Tired as he was, he appreciated the first class accommodations, even if he had argued with Zach that he didn’t need to stay in this much luxury. He raised the glass to enjoy his first sip of quality scotch. The rotgut he’d had to drink at the bar tonight had been truly awful.

Jacob. His name had come up more than once over the past day. But not enough to arouse suspicion that it was a setup. If it weren’t for Emma, he’d think Jacob was indeed part of Alistair’s inner circle. A source who could lead him to Alistair. A source who needed to be stopped.

If the information about Jacob had been planted, it was damned skillful. Just Alistair’s style.

Cole was sick of thinking about it.

Now he just wanted to hear Emma’s voice. He drained his glass of scotch and stood to stretch. Hell, he might as well go get something to eat. As he grabbed his jacket, his phone rang.

He checked the phone number. Not Emma.

“Stevens.”

“Cole, it’s Joey. Have you talked with Emma lately?”

Cole’s heart raced. “No. What’s up?”

“I’m at your place, and I thought she was upstairs, but when I called out to let her know I was leaving, she didn’t say anything. She always says good night, so I went to her room to check, and she was gone.”

The niggling worry he’d felt earlier exploded into full blown fear.

“She left a note: ‘Joey, sorry, I had something I needed to do. Please don’t worry. Emma.’ Cole, I’m sorry. It looks like she disarmed the security system while I was in the kitchen and then slipped out.”

Cole tapped his fingers against his leg, considering his options. Hell, he knew what needed to happen. Safety before privacy, whether she liked it or not. “I put a GPS tracker on her phone. I’ll email the tracking information and log in as well. Send William to her location, but unless we see something alarming, remain low key.” He reached for his laptop, logging in as he continued. “I’ll call if I hear anything.”

Cole disconnected and pulled the tracking information up on his phone’s screen. As her location pulled up, he began to pace.

…

Emma fought the urge to smack Grant’s dashboard in frustration. What had she been thinking? That they’d miraculously find Jacob locked in that building? Or there’d be an obvious clue—something akin to a big arrow stating
this way to Jacob
. They’d found nothing of immediate value. Oh sure, Grant thought there might be something on the USB, but who knew if they would find anything helpful, or how long it would take to find it. They drove on in silence.

She’d kind of promised Cole she wouldn’t take chances, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t applaud her judgment when he found out she and Grant had to sneak out the office window when it became apparent the men were settling in for a heated discussion—one held in their first language, so she couldn’t even learn anything by eavesdropping.

The truth was that given the chance, she’d do it again. She hunched further into the car seat and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Grant glanced her way. “Listen, Emma, we have a lot of information to run with. We have the USB, and I snapped photos of the appointment book with my phone. I’m going to scour every name. I’m going to keep looking until we find Jacob.”

Emma looked at Grant. His desire to help practically radiated. If willpower could fuel hope in that little car, his would do it.

He had changed.

“We need to share the information with Cole and Zach.” When he remained silent, she continued. “You said Yuri wouldn’t meet with us if he knew Zach was involved. This is different.”

“Okay.” He glanced her way. “But I want copies as well. I may recognize something they miss. We can load the USB contents onto a computer at Cole’s place.”

With a sigh of relief that he hadn’t fought her, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I also found this. It looks like a series of numbers. Bank accounts, maybe?” Perhaps the guy was old school and didn’t trust computers with all of his information.

Emma turned her phone on, and immediately, it began to buzz. One, two, three more missed messages to join the earlier two for a grand total of five. Three from Cole, two from Joey.

Her night just got better and better. She took a picture of the piece of paper and handed it to Grant.

She didn’t want to talk with Cole while in the car with Grant, so instead she texted Joey.
Home in fifteen. Sorry. Emma.

…

Cole poured a second drink. He’d forced down a hamburger after Emma’s text to Joey provided the smallest bit of relief—that and the GPS tracker’s steady movement toward his home.

Where had she gone that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him in advance? He considered the very high probability that Grant was somehow involved, that she’d turned to someone he didn’t trust.

The scotch mellowed him a bit as the GPS tracker stopped at his house. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.

His phone rang. He didn’t even glance at the caller ID. “Stevens.”

“Cole.” The sound of Emma’s hesitant voice sent relief coursing through him.