The Keeping (44 page)

Just to cover
herself, she’d generalized that while Ryne worked mostly in the
Oregon area, he never revealed exact locations. This, she said, was
because of his great commitment to the environment and his desire
to prevent people from disturbing the delicate balance of nature in
the places he worked. It was a bit sappy, but any person who
claimed ‘they didn’t exist before photography’ could very well say
something like her final statement.

Mel stared at the
picture that had wolves in the distance. Something niggled in her
brain when she looked at it, as if there was something she should
know or remember. Unfortunately, the harder she tried to bring the
thought into focus, the more it faded away. With a sigh, she gave
up and shut down the computer. She was too tired to think. Maybe in
the morning she’d be able to figure out what it was about that
picture that called to her.

Yawning, Mel stood
up, hoping the sketchy report would satisfy Aldrich and get him to
leave her alone for a while. Heading towards the couch—she’d told
Lucy to sleep in her room—she shed her robe and lay down, intent on
getting a few hours sleep before going to see the lawyer. As she
tried to get comfortable on the old and lumpy couch, she bemusedly
realized that at some point during the night, her fever had broken.
Thank heavens for small mercies.

Chapter
31

“Are you sure
you’ll be all right?” Lucy stared at Mel with a frown. “You still
don’t look so good.”

The two women were
leaning against the kitchen counter sipping coffee and preparing to
start their day. Mel, however reluctantly, had to head off to meet
with Aldrich, while Lucy was going to spend the morning taking a
bus tour of the city that Mel had recommended.

Rolling her eyes,
Mel reassured her friend, yet again. “Honestly, I’m fine. The fever
broke last night. My arm’s not as sore. It’s just a lack of sleep
and nerves over this meeting that are making me look less than
prime. I’ll go see Aldrich and give him this report while you take
a tour of the city. Then we’ll meet back here for lunch and go
shopping.”

“Why don’t you
just e-mail the report and come with me?”

Mel sighed. “I
wish, but Aldrich hates e-mail. He wants face to face contact. I
think he likes to watch people squirm.” Noting Lucy’s concerned
expression, she added a light laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be
fine.”

“Well...if you’re
sure.”

“Go.” Mel made
shooing motions with her hands. “You know you want to take the
Chicago Gangster Tour and see where Al Capone hung out. If you
don’t leave now, you’ll miss the bus.”

It took some
doing, but Mel finally had Lucy out of the apartment and on her
way. Gathering her purse, the report on Ryne and a jacket, Mel left
as well, though with considerably less excitement than Lucy had.
She really didn’t want to see Aldrich and she really didn’t want to
give him the report. It just seemed so wrong. Even if Ryne was a
jerk, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was betraying his
trust.

Her mental debate
lasted all the way to Aldrich’s office and continued as she sat in
the intimidating reception area, waiting to see him. At least,
being a Saturday and outside usual business hours, the secretary
was absent. Mel could still recall the feeling of disapproval that
had emanated from Ms. Sandercock, Aldrich’s personal assistant.
Sitting in her presence had been distinctly uncomfortable. A young
paralegal breezed through and cast a friendly smile her way, before
grabbing some files and leaving again. Idly, Mel wondered if the
young woman would end up as nasty as her employer after a few years
under his tutelage.

Shifting in her
seat, Mel fiddled with the report; curling the corners with her
fingers then trying to press them flat. An incredibly ugly clock
ticked away on the wall, its sound accompanying the bland music
that was piped in from hidden speakers. It was a far cry from
sitting and waiting inThe Broken Antler. At least there, Armand
would be giving her beer to drink. Maybe that’s what she needed
right now. Some alcohol induced bravado to get her through her
encounter. An inelegant snort escaped her as she contemplated
Aldrich’s response should she stumble into his office tipsy and
wiggling her ass. She doubted he’d be as amused as the patrons had
been at the bar the other night.

She stifled a sigh
and smoothed the wrinkled papers in her hand. The longer she waited
the worse she felt about giving her findings to Aldrich. Something
about the man made her uncomfortable. She crossed her legs and
inhaled deeply before staring at the neatly typed pages for what
seemed like the hundredth time. She owed no loyalty to Ryne, not
after the way he’d treated her. Yet they had a verbal agreement
giving him final veto.

A sound from
Aldrich’s office caught her attention. He must have finished
whatever it was he’d been doing. Mel straightened in her chair and
bit her lip before impulsively folding the report and shoving it
into the inside pocket of her jacket. The pages crinkled slightly
as she leaned back in the chair, trying to appear casual. She’d
play it cool; feel Aldrich out as to his client’s intentions with
regards to Ryne and then she’d hand over the
information...maybe.

The door to
Aldrich’s office swung open. Mel rose to her feet and gave the
lawyer a tentative smile. “Good morning, Mr. Aldrich. I got your
message and came over as you requested.”

What might have
been a smile, passed over the man’s lips as he greeted her with his
usual arrogance and lack of manners. “Of course you came; what
other option did you have?”

Feeling it was a
rhetorical question, Mel didn’t answer, instead entering the
lawyer’s inner sanctum and sitting down in a low slung chair in
front of his desk; it forced her to look up at him, somehow
increasing his intimidation factor. She remembered the room from
last time, when she’d interviewed for the job; leather, wood, what
was probably a beautiful view, if one wasn’t so over-powered by the
occupant of the office. She was sweating again. Had the fever
returned or did the lawyer just make her that nervous?
Surreptitiously, she wiped her hands on her pant legs and waited
for Aldrich to speak.

Unfortunately, he
didn’t. The annoying man just sat there, casually leaning back in
his leather chair, fingers steepled, staring at her blandly. His
eyebrows raised in the faintest hint of inquiry. Mel licked her
lips and wondered what he was waiting for. She shifted nervously
and refolded her hands, met his gaze then looked away. Why didn’t
he say something? Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she broke
the silence between them.

“Well, I’m back.”
She winced. What an idiotic comment. He could see she was back. She
was sitting right in front of him!

“So you are. A
stellar comment, Ms. Greene. I can only hope that your observations
on Mr. Taylor are equally...profound.”

“Well, about
that...”

Aldrich sat up
straighter. “You do, of course have a report for me.”

She could feel the
pages poking her in the ribs, each jab like a prod to her
conscience, reminding her that their existence was her fault. For
whatever reason, Ryne didn’t want people knowing much about him,
and by creating the report she was going expressly against his
wishes. “Um...”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering
what exactly Mr. Greyson was going to do with the report?”

The lawyer’s
eyebrows shot up. He was obviously unused to being questioned.
“That is really none of your business. Mr. Greyson did not hire you
to delve into his personal motivation.”

“It’s just that
Ryne—Mr. Taylor—was reluctant to share much about himself. He likes
his privacy.”

“Artists, authors,
movie stars... A certain amount of celebrity is part of their job
description. Some degree of privacy must be sacrificed if they wish
the public to buy into their product. I’m sure Mr. Taylor knew this
when he began his career. Now he must ‘suck it up’ as I believe you
young people are fond of saying.”

“I know
celebrities have to—”

“Ms. Greene. I do
not have the time, or the inclination, to debate the issue. Kindly
hand over the report and let's be done with it. I have other
appointments today.”

“No...”

“No?”

“No. I...I want to
think about this some more.”

“You
do
have a report, don’t you?”

“Yes! Of course!
It’s just—”

“If you’ve been
paid to write a report, Ms. Greene, then you have a legal
obligation to hand over said report. If you chose not to, you may
not like the steps I will be forced to take in order to gain
ownership for my client.” Aldrich stood up and rounded the desk.
His tone was no longer that of a bland and boring lawyer, nor was
his face impassive. A nastiness was had crept into it, making Mel
feel nervous and bringing with it a wave of nausea. Her head
started to spin and her skin prickled all over.

Swallowing hard,
she stood and backed around behind the chair she’d been sitting in,
gripping its back to keep her balance. The papers in her pocket
seemed to crinkle with betraying loudness as she moved and she
instinctively clutched her hand over them. Aldrich seemed to zero
in on the gesture and stalked closer, his eyes narrowed and his
tone threatening.

“You
will
hand over those papers or live to regret it, Ms. Greene. The power
wielded by Greyson Inc. is not something you should take
lightly.”

An unexpected
flash of anger sparked inside her. Mel was surprised to feel the
sickness being pushed aside. It was almost as if some beast was
within her, ready to snarl at this person who dared threaten her.
Speaking with much greater conviction than she felt—or at least
than she thought she felt—she threw back her shoulders and raised
her chin. “Back off. I’ll give it to you when I’m good and ready
and not a minute sooner.” With that she whirled around and stalked
out of the office, catching a vague impression of Aldrich’s shocked
face before slamming the door shut.

*****

The noise of the
terminal washed over Ryne as he strode across the concourse, his
long legs covering the distance to the exit in considerably less
time than his fellow passengers. Of course, the fact that his face
was set in a deadly scowl also helped matters along, as the
swirling mass of humanity took one look at him and quickly stepped
out of his way. The small tote slung over his shoulder, held the
few essentials he’d tossed in it before making a hasty departure
from Stump River.

After speaking
with Kane, he’d had Daniel searching the airlines for a last minute
flight to Chicago, then drove like a maniac to Toronto only to
arrive too late for the Friday flight. Thankfully, there had been a
seat available on Saturday and he was now where he needed to be,
which was in Chicago on Melody’s trail.

As much as he
hated abandoning his new pack members, he needed to deal with this
situation quickly or there could very well be no pack to worry
about. Bryan and Daniel were capable of carrying out their duty in
his absence. His instructions had been specific for each of the
possible scenarios that might evolve. At best, he’d be home in
forty-eight hours happily helping the Loberos get settled. If the
worst case scenario came to pass... Well, the evening news would
tell that tale; sensational stories of murder and mass suicide
always made the headlines.

The bright sun
made him squint as he stepped outside and settled into the long
line of people waiting to catch a taxi-cab. He could push his way
to the front—a warning growl and a hard stare would keep anyone
from protesting—but he was trying to keep as low a profile as
possible. And so he joined the line with barely suppressed
impatience and spent the time reviewing his plans while arguing
with his inner wolf over their wisdom.

Despite what he’d
told Kane, he had doubts about his ability to deal with Melody
dispassionately. Inexplicably, his wolf had started to bond with
her, ignoring all reason. Melody was human. There was no reason for
his wolf to respond to her; it never had to any of the other human
females he’d bedded. Why did it have to become difficult now, when
he needed to be at his most ruthless?

“Hey, do you want
that cab or not? We don’t have all day here!”

A disgruntled
voice broke into his reverie and Ryne realized he was finally at
the front of the line. Climbing in the back of the waiting vehicle,
he gave the driver the address Kane had texted to him and then sat
brooding over what he might have to do. He didn’t know Chicago all
that well and it would make things much more difficult. There were
people everywhere and he imagined most were just waiting to be
witnesses and report any strange goings-on, hoping for a few
minutes of fame on the local news.

Somehow he’d have
to lure Melody out of her apartment to a remote location. If he
questioned her in her home, she might become suspicious. Actually,
given how they’d parted, she might not want to talk to him at all.
He grimaced, thinking of that last unpleasant conversation. Had he
known he would still need her cooperation, he might not have been
so harsh.

The cab pulled up
in front of an apartment building and Ryne stepped out onto the
sidewalk. He paid the driver then surveyed Melody’s home. To say it
was rundown was being too generous and the neighbourhood... A
grimace of distaste passed over his face as the smell of exhaust
and garbage bins wafted past. How could she stand to live in such
as seedy environment?

He walked up the
steps and entered the building. Of course, there was no security at
the entrance. A quick glance toward the yellowing ‘out of order’
sign on the elevator told him it hadn’t been working for quite some
time. Taking the stairs, he easily climbed the five flights, not
feeling in the least winded when he reached his destination. With
studied casualness, he strolled down the hallway, scanning the
numbers on the doors until he came to Melody’s. Sounds drifted
around him; blaring televisions mixed with arguing voices and
crying children. Her apartment however, was silent.