Chapter 11
Kate stood beside Jack and watched A.J. pull the car out of the garage. A.J. seemed like a nice guy, but she had avoided him on purpose. She wasn’t here to make friends.
She waited just inside the door. It was time to hit the road, take care of unfinished business. Jack would only get in her way if she stayed. The thought of getting a good night’s rest held a certain appeal, but she didn’t come to the States to catch up on her sleep.
Jack hit a button to shut the garage door and stepped inside the house.
Kate set Barney on the ground, picked up her bag and said, “It’s been fun, Jack. But it’s time for me to head off.”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t do this, Jack.”
“Do what?”
“Make a big deal out of my leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet. I would have left this morning if those cops hadn’t shown up at the hotel. I have business to take care of, remember?”
He stared at her, but he didn’t say a word.
“Besides,” she added, “you have problems of your own.”
“Your problems are my problems,” he said, placing a hand on his chest for emphasis. “Nobody was trying to kill me before I hooked up with you.”
“Thanks,” she said, clutching her bag tighter to her side as she tried to get past him. “I feel much better now.”
He blew out some hot air and reached out to stop her. “You can’t go. Running off isn’t going to save me. Although the thought that you don’t want to endanger me is heartwarming, it isn’t going to make the bad guys disappear. Besides, I’m a fugitive just like you, remember?”
“I wasn’t leaving to save you.” She looked him in the eyes. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just don’t want to be around you?”
He looked puzzled. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
Their gazes remained locked, neither of them blinking, as if doing so would be a sign of weakness.
He pointed a finger her way and suddenly his features softened. “You’re mad at me for this morning in the hotel, aren’t you?”
Her laugh came out as a snort. “You’re amazing. Every time I think you can’t possibly get any more arrogant, you prove me wrong.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of crap your mother has been feeding you for the last thirty-eight years—”
“Thirty-two.”
“Yeah, whatever. The point is...you’re not that great.”
He looked amused.
“For starters,” she added smugly, wondering why the hell she didn’t just leave well enough alone, “you have-er-uh-a big nose...”
He laughed.
“...and a very irritating laugh.”
A dimple appeared near the corner of his mouth and his blue eyes sparkled with a self-righteous pompous glee that egged her on.
“And your ears,” she blurted, pointing at the one on the right, “are very small in proportion to that big head of yours.” She waved a hand through the air. “And that’s just the begin—”
His laughter bounced off the walls, cutting her off in mid-sentence as he went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out two cold Coronas. “You want one?”
She shook her head at him. “If I stay, you’ll get in my way. I’m used to doing things my way.”
Jack nodded. “I can handle that. Whatever you say goes.”
She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “That would mean we don’t contact anybody without discussing it first.”
“Got it.”
“Nobody...not even Harrison.”
Jack twisted the cap off one of the bottles and handed one to her. “I can deal with that.”
“And no more kisses,” she added. “You’re a tease.”
“I’ll work on it.”
She lifted a brow.
Jack tapped the neck of his bottle to hers. “Here’s to finding Kate Huntley.”
After they finished their beers and found the keys to the truck, Jack took Kate’s hand and led her down the carpeted hallway. At the end of the hallway was a set of double doors leading to the master bedroom.
The bedroom was large, exquisitely decorated with plump chairs and a marbled top tea table set off to the side. The focus of the room was an antique bed covered in brocade and silk. The thought that Jack might throw caution to the wind, toss her on the bed, and make them both forget all the evils of the world, even if only for a short while, sent a thrilling shiver up her spine.
“I want you to relax,” he said, killing the feverish anticipation with five words.
She opened her mouth in protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “Take a long hot shower...or a bath,” he said, gesturing toward a porcelain tub separated from the rest of the room by a glass-enclosed fireplace. He left her side long enough to start the fire with the push of one button. Afterwards, he disappeared inside a walk-in closet and returned with a silk robe. He tossed the robe over the arm of a cushioned chair. “When you’re done, dinner will be waiting.”
A part of her hated the idea of him bringing her in here and telling her what to do, but another part of her nearly melted at the idea of Jack taking care of her. No one had taken care of her since her father. She had a feeling Jack would ready the tub if she showed any sign of wanting him to. Being with Jack made her wonder if there was more to life than looking over her shoulder and getting even. Being with Jack made her think of Sunday barbeques and long walks on the beach...things she hadn’t thought about in a very long time.
When Jack reached the door, he looked over his shoulder at her. “By the way,” he said, a devilish glint in his eye, “you know what they say about guys with big noses, don’t you?”
“No,” she said, “what do they say?”
He looked disappointed at her answer. His feeble attempt to flirt had backfired, but the fact that he attempted at all lightened her mood.
“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I don’t recall...something about big noses being synonymous to the size of a man’s brain.”
She smiled. “Cute.” Jack could be downright boyish one moment and all male testosterone the next. He confused her, and the candid gaze he was shooting her way at the moment made her toes curl. Oh, man! At moments like this she was tempted to forget why she was here, to let her guard down once and for all and surrender to whatever life had to offer.
He turned his head so she could get a better view of his profile. “You really think my nose is too big, huh?”
“Definitely.” She smiled. “But the ear thing...I made that up.”
Kate wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time she stepped out of the tub of lukewarm water and slipped into the silk robe. As she towel dried her hair, she gave her short brassy blonde locks a couple of shakes before glancing into the mirror. She examined her teeth, impressed with their sturdy whiteness considering she hadn’t been to a real dentist in years. Her robe fell partially open, prompting her to open it wide for a full frontal view of her body. Her breasts were small and her hips non-existent. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled the sash tight around her middle.
Her face could use some color. For a moment she considered digging through her bag for the lipstick she’d recently purchased. Who was she trying to impress?
She frowned. “Next thing you know,” she muttered to her reflection, “I’ll be asking Jack how I look.” With a snort she stepped into the large area of the room in front of the bed, dropped to the floor, and began doing push-ups.
There was a quiet knock before the door came open and Jack stepped inside. “Dinner’s ready when—”
“Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—”
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? Twenty-one, twenty-two...”
Jack crossed the room, plunked down on the edge of the bed, and watched her. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“You’re making me lose my concentration. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one—”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about finding your father’s killer.”
She didn’t respond. She’d only been in the States for a few days, but she was softening faster than a cube of butter in the middle of a desert. It had to stop. “Thirty-three.”
“If we do find out who is responsible, I’m hoping you’ll remember that you have choices. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life in jail, trust me.”
“It’s not up to you,” she said. “Thirty-six.”
“No, it’s not. But do you really think revenge is going to make everything better?”
“Yes. Thirty-eight, thirty-nine—”
“How?”
“Forty. Because as soon as the people responsible for my father’s death are dead and buried,” she ground out, “I’ll be able to sleep again...forty-four...I’ve slept in a lot worse than a cold hard cell. Forty-six. I know the sounds of pain and suffering, the smell of death, the cold bitter feel of being touched by filth. Fifty.”
She dropped to the floor and took a long deep breath before she pushed herself to her feet. “Someone is going to pay. And when it’s over, I’m going to feel great. Trust me.”
Jack nodded, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he wasn’t paying attention to a word she was saying. Her silk robe had slid open and Jack had no qualms about taking a good long look.
“Aren’t you a little old to be gawking?”
He raised his heavy-lidded gaze to hers. “A guy would have to be dead and buried not to notice you.”
She let out a huff.
“And, as far as my age goes,” he said, “I’m in my prime.”
She rubbed her palm over his finely stubbled jaw and ignored the heat pulsing between her legs. “And you’re letting it all go to waste.” She made a tsking sound as her hand dropped back to her side. She pulled her sash tight, and then swept past him.
Chapter 12
The AIDS event had netted one million, three hundred and fifty one thousand dollars: a record night for CFAF. At the sound of footfalls, Dr. Elizabeth Kramer looked up from her mahogany desk, surprised to see her assistant, Amy, still haunting the office this late in the day. Amy had been her assistant for nearly a year now. She was a quick study and a dream to work with. Elizabeth had befriended the young girl when she visited the women’s shelter in San Francisco, offering Amy a job along with schooling and a place to live. Amy had come a long way since their first meeting. Uncharacteristically, the poor girl looked exhausted and pale.
Elizabeth tilted her head. “I thought you had school tonight.”
“I do and I won’t be late if I leave in the next few minutes, but I wanted to show you something I found.” Amy placed an open ledger in front of Elizabeth. Then she pointed to the third column and frowned. “See this amount here...fifty thousand dollars went to LCC Labs in New Jersey five years ago.”
Elizabeth waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Those are old ledgers. Wherever did you find them?”
“We were running out of room for the files, so I was cleaning out one of the closets when I found these books.” Amy continued to point at the third column. “The fifty thousand donation isn’t so odd in and of itself, but then two months later another fifty thousand dollars went to the same lab.” Amy placed another ledger on top of that one, once again pointing at the third column under “funds paid.”
“Hmmm. This is a puzzle, isn’t it?”
“It’s more than a puzzle, Dr. Kramer.” Amy held up three more ledgers. “It’s the same for each ledger, some worse off than others. These findings show that CFAF has been vulnerable to significant fraud and abuse over the past five years, maybe longer. Who knows how much of your hard-earned donations have been siphoned. Judging by what I’ve seen already, the total amount of misplaced funds is potentially astronomical.”
Elizabeth watched the girl with renewed focus. Amy’s cheeks pinkened, most likely caused by the adrenaline pumping through her veins after touching upon such a scandal.
“I called Bernstein and Grayson, last year’s auditors,” Amy went on. “I wanted to see what, if anything, they knew of this problem but everyone in the office had gone home for the day. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll come in early tomorrow to get a head start on this situation. Not only do the books show dozens of instances of duplicate funding, I’ve also dug up almost as many fraudulent applications for funds. A number of payments appear to have been sent to addresses that are showing up on internet satellite photos as vacant lots and nonexistent buildings. It’s mind-boggling.”
Elizabeth took off her reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m afraid I’m speechless. This is staggering news to say the least.”
“If you’d like,” Amy said, “I’d be happy to miss my class tonight and work late...as long as necessary to get this straightened out. I’m sure you’ll want everything in order before you call the authorities.”
“You’re such a thoughtful girl, Amy. I only wish I had found you years ago.”
“I’ll stay then.”
“No, no. You go to school. You’ll never reach your dreams of being a CPA if you skip class.” Elizabeth sighed as she peered up into Amy’s big blue eyes. The girl was like the daughter she never had. “Did you tell anyone else about your findings?”
“No, of course not. I wanted to talk to you before we called the authorities. I shouldn’t have called the auditors without talking to you first but it was a knee-jerk reaction.”
“Good. Let’s keep this between the two of us until morning, shall we? I want to look over the books myself, check the numbers, and then prepare a press release in case this gets out before we’re ready.”
Amy set the rest of the ledgers on the desk and then came around to where Elizabeth sat and wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s shoulders in a compassionate embrace. “I’m so sorry this has happened. I plan to fully cooperate with the authorities so that we can keep CFAF on its feet while they get this all straightened out. So many people respect and adore you for all the good work you’ve done for AIDS research. It’ll all work out in the end, I’m sure of it.”
It was nearly midnight by the time Jack climbed out of the shower. He and Kate had eaten dinner in silence before Kate settled on the couch in the family room to watch a movie. He headed that way now as he wondered what was troubling her. He didn’t know her, and yet he wanted to...wanted to know what made her tick. Yeah, he knew she wanted revenge, but did she have any hope at all for a better future? He’d thought about asking her, probing her mind, finding out more about her, but he could tell by the stiffness of her spine and the tightness around her mouth during dinner that she wasn’t in the mood to talk.
The television was still on, he noticed, and George Bailey was running like a madman through Potterville. But Kate was fast asleep with the dog curled at her side.
He set off back down the hallway and pulled a blanket from the hall closet. As he tucked the blanket around her, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her. The dog licked his hand, prompting Jack to give the dog a pat on the head.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Kate said earlier about knowing what it felt like to be touched by filth. An urge to find every bastard who ever laid a hand on her and give him something to think about swept over him.
A breeze came through the window and touched the back of his neck. The smell of pine prompted him to suck in a deep breath of fresh air. He straightened, listening for a moment to the distant hoot of an owl. He shut the window and as he made his way around the house, he checked the locks on every window and door. When he was done, he looked out the sliding glass door. Even in the darkness he could see the shimmering lake. The tree branches danced in the breeze, but for the most part, the night was calm. He checked the lock again, pulled the curtains closed, grabbed the laptop A.J. had left for him and made himself comfortable in the leather chair next to the couch.
To his left was the front entry. Kate was on his right. If he reached out, he could touch her shoulder. The dog would bark if someone tried to get in through the sliding glass door. In his lap was his 9 mm, loaded and ready.
The more he thought about it, the more restless he became as he realized he needed to take matters into his own hands. He couldn’t wait around to see what fate had in store for him or for Kate. He’d been framed, and he needed to find out why. Opening the laptop, he turned it on and waited for the screen to light up. In a few days, he would contact Harrison again and arrange a new meeting place. Kate didn’t need to know. She didn’t need the added stress. Besides, he would take precautions, maybe set a trap to see if Harrison was, in fact, a traitor working on the wrong side of the tracks.
After what happened at the hotel, he’d have to be more careful from here on out. If he got himself killed or ended up in jail for a murder he didn’t commit, Kate would end up right where she started ten years ago...alone. Although she talked a tough talk, he knew she was scared. He could see it in the haunted look of someone who hadn’t known a good night’s sleep in years. Kate was special. She deserved to feel safe. He’d not felt this close, this connected, to a woman in a long time. More than anything, he wanted her to learn to trust him.
The FBI website homepage filled his computer screen before he clicked onto the Ten Most Wanted list. He glanced at his picture just to make sure he hadn’t dreamt it the last time. His eyes roamed over the webpage: “Top Ten FBI Myths” and the “Last Steps of John Dillinger.” All fluff to entertain the public’s curiosity. Next, he hacked into the protected area and looked about...sniffing around, trying to catch a scent. Nothing of interest there so he went back to the “Story Index” on the front page and skimmed over reports and publications. One particular story caught his attention: Robert Conrad had recently been promoted to Chief of the LA Cyber Division, a job Conrad was clearly not cut out for. Conrad had spent the past three years in Cyber Unit 3 working under Jack and A.J. If A.J. hadn’t said anything about Conrad’s promotion, it was because he didn’t know. Pain, sharp and piercing, sliced through Jack’s head, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his head back against the chair until the throbbing subsided. Similar to a film clip, images of Conrad and Harrison flashed through his mind. The two men talking in the hallway, not once but twice in the weeks before Jack was sent to Haiti to find Kate. What could Harrison and Conrad possibly have in common? They were night and day when it came to personalities. Conrad was a dead fish; Harrison was a shark. What had they been talking about? Harrison might be their boss, but he wasn’t the main man in charge of Cyber Unit 3. Nor was he the man to go to with problems or future aspirations. So why had they been conversing in the hallway?
Just shooting the breeze?
Jack frowned. Doubtful.
Fingertips clacking away on the keyboard, Jack found Conrad’s home address, which turned out to be about twenty-five miles from Jack’s place in Burbank. The time posted on the lower right hand corner of the monitor read 12:30 AM. He could be to Conrad’s residence and back in five to six hours, depending on how long his chat with Conrad lasted.
He looked at Kate. She looked downright peaceful when she slept. He hated to leave her, especially without talking to her first, but he had a feeling she would want to join him. He didn’t want to put her in any more danger than she was in already. Besides, she needed sleep. Quickly, he sent A.J. another scrambled message, telling him to meet him at the merry-go-round in Griffith Park.
Once the laptop screen faded to black, he moved the computer aside and stood. It took him a few minutes to find paper and pen. He wrote Kate a note in case she woke before he returned. Jack headed for the garage, making sure to shut the door quietly before locking it behind him.
Amy leaned close to the windowpane, her hands cupped around her eyes as she looked to see if anyone was still inside the bookstore. Nope. Empty and dark. If she hadn’t stayed to help the professor put away the overhead projector and the extra chairs, she might have made it to the bookstore before closing.
This was turning out to be quite a day. She’d cut her shin while shaving; arrived to work late; found those crazy numbers in the ledgers at work; got out of class too late to get to the bookstore before they closed; and now, faced with a test in a few days, didn’t have the book she needed for the test. But worst of all was telling Dr. Kramer about those ledgers.
All of Dr. Kramer’s hard work over the years...the poor woman must be reeling in shock and disbelief. To think that millions of dollars had likely been siphoned right off the top of all those people’s donations.
By who though?
Just last week, Amy’s professor had talked about greed and corruption in America, including tax evasion and fraud in small and large corporations. The more Amy thought about the situation, the more she realized she’d never be able to sleep tonight. What she needed to do was hurry back to the office and finish what she’d started this afternoon. It was the least she could do for Dr. Kramer after everything the woman had done for her. Digging through her purse for her keys, Amy headed for the parking lot. A lamplight overhead zapped and went out. She shook her head and wondered what else could go wrong today. Hopefully her car would start. It was an old Toyota Corolla with bald tires and squeaky brakes, but for the most part, the car usually managed to get her where she needed to go.
Since she’d been late getting to class tonight, her car was parked in the field across the street from the main parking lot. If she squinted, she could see it through the trees. Tempted to take a shortcut through rows of drought resistant evergreen, she remembered reading about the twenty-one year old girl who was raped on campus last month, and decided against taking the shortcut.
Her heels clacked against the pavement as she went, drowning out the sounds of frogs and crickets in a distant pond. Leaves crackled nearby. Thinking she heard movement behind her, she stopped to look around. A few feet back was an emergency button for just these sorts of scenarios.
All was quiet. She took in a deep breath and started off again. She was being ridiculous. Forcing herself to think of other things, she transferred her thoughts to Dr. Kramer and how apathetic the woman had seemed when Amy had brought the fraudulent accounting practices to her attention. Dr. Kramer looked bored the entire time Amy had showed her duplicate and even triplicate payments of the same funds. Anyone else would have been flabbergasted by the possibility of such an offense.
Amy stopped walking again. Suddenly it dawned on her that Dr. Kramer might very well be in a world of trouble. Realizing what she might have stumbled upon, Amy considered running back to class to see if the professor was still there. He would know what to do.
“Miss,” a man called, appearing from the shadows of a wall of evergreen. “Do you think I could borrow your cell? My car won’t start and I need to call my wife.”
Amy’s breath caught in her throat. The gloves the man wore were her first clue that something wasn’t right.
The glint of a knife was the second. She bolted, taking off across the parking lot toward her car. For a brief moment, Amy considered running back to the classroom, but she wasn’t sure if her professor would still be there. She had long legs. She ran five miles every morning. The stranger, on the other hand, looked older, and he had short legs. She could outrun him. The newly paved parking lot made for a faster run. She could do this. She could get away.
Thump!
Ouch. She’d been hit in the back. By what? She glanced over her shoulder as she ran. He was a good ten feet back. Had he thrown his knife? An intense fiery sting, starting at her spine and working its way down her back, answered her question.
Don’t let me die. Please God, no
.
Fueled by adrenaline and the will to live, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. With the keys clutched in her hand, she dropped her purse. He could have her money and credit cards. Just a few more feet to her car. She reached out, gulping air, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen.