Mine Until Dawn (30 page)

“I’m here now, sweetie. I’m visiting an eccentric old man who doesn’t believe in modern technology.” A giddy giggle floated down the line. “The guards asked us to turn over every modern gadget we own before we could be allowed to stay. To tell time, we use sundial or hour-glass. Can you believe that? It’s an amazing château. And his antiques collection? Unbelievable. Sweetie, you could stay here an entire year and not finish cataloguing them.”

Jade gripped the phone, anxiety replacing relief. Bouchard mentioned his family’s antique collection. Could there be a connection?

“Who is this old man, Mom? What’s his name? And what do you mean by “we”?”

There was a background murmur, then her mother said, “Just an old friend. I’ve got go, honey. If the guards learn I sneaked out to check my voicemail….”

Jade jumped up from the stool. “You need to talk to Vince first, Mom.”

“Vince?”

“Vince Knight.” Jade hurried from the kitchen. “Judge Abe’s son.”

There was a brief silence on the line. “What are you talking about, sweetie? Abe doesn’t have children.”

“He does, a son.” Jade hurried along the hallway and toward the living room. “Judge Abe’s a fraud and a hypocrite, Mom. He lied to you and to everyone who knows him. He made a woman pregnant thirty-five years ago, then kicked her out after threatening to have her committed if she ever contacted him or told her child about him. When Vince was in his teens, the judge refused—”

“Stop it, Jade. Just stop it.”

The vehemence of her mother’s voice caused her feet to falter. Three years ago, her mother had yelled the exact same words at her. At the time, she’d admonished her for believing her husband’s lies.

“Why do you do this to yourself,
mija
?” her mother continued, her voice sounding strained. “You are so trusting. Anyone can walk in off the street and claim anything, and you would believe them. Abe doesn’t have children, he never wanted any. But he’s an honest, hardworking man, a man you’ve known since you were a child. How can you believe these vicious lies about him?”

Jade had stopped walking halfway through her mother’s lecture. Now she leaned against the wall, just a few steps from the foyer and the living room.

“They’re not lies, Mom. Vince is Abe’s son.”

“Oh, honey.” A long suffering sigh followed. “What proof has he offered you? Birth certificate? Those can be forged. Have you seen him visit his father? They only allow relatives. What about Abe’s sister? Did you call her to confirm his identity?”

Jade swallowed and shook her head. Vince hadn’t mentioned visiting his father, and it never crossed her mind to confirm the things he’d told her. Doubts crept in, but she pushed them aside.

“He doesn’t need to show me any proof, Mom. He’s telling the truth. Trust me on this.” Her heart wouldn’t lie to her.

“I trust you, sweetie, you know I do. It’s just that your judgment when it comes to men is so…so…. Okay, let’s say that he’s telling the truth. What does he want? Why appear now when Abe is in a coma and can’t expose him as a fraud? Where did you meet this man anyway?”

Abe was the fraud, not Vince. Of that she was sure. “He’s here to find the missing statue.
Kukulcan
.”

“Who asked him to find the statue?”

Jade heard the urgency that entered her mother’s voice. Vince never mentioned the name of the relative who asked him to find the missing statue. She’d just assumed it was his aunt. Instead of answering her mother’s question, Jade launched into an explanation.

“It was stolen the night the judge threw a party. You know, a week before you left. Vince is searching for it and he believes you might know something about it. In fact, he believes you have it.”

“Don’t trust this man, Jade. Please.” There was a ring of desperation in her mother’s voice. “Don’t trust anyone after that statue.”

“At least tell me if you know about it.”

“I’ve got to go, sweetie. Just heed my words.”

“Mom. There’s another man after the same statue…the ambassador of Saint-Noel to the US. He’s dangerous and—”

“Don’t trust anyone, please. And for the love of God, don’t let this man suck you into feeling sorry for him. You must stop believing that you can heal every wounded man like you did those stray dogs of yours. Jerrod was enough.”

Jade took a deep breath. That stung, but she wasn’t going to go there. Not now. “Mom, please. Just tell me what you know about the statue.”

“Stay out of this, Jade. It’s none of your business. I love you and will see you by the end of the week.” The phone went dead.

Jade let out a loud growl of frustration and fought the urge to scream. Her mother drove her nuts sometimes. Why couldn’t she trust her? So she messed up big time when she married that loser Jerrod and stayed with him year after year, believing his lies that he’d change. That didn’t mean she was destined to a lifetime of screwing up or that every man she met was untrustworthy. Vince was different, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

You fell in love with Jerrod too,
an inner voice reminded her. She’d been blinded by his maturity and sophistication, believing he was a carbon copy of her dad. Vince was neither of those things. He was down to earth, only a few years older than she, and trustworthy.
 
Above all, trustworthy.

She needed to get out of here and find him. Seeing him, his sexy smile, and dark assuring eyes would dispel all these annoying doubts.

Jade didn’t bother to take the phone back to the kitchen. Instead, she hurried to living room. It was empty. Then she spotted the two men outside, examining Lex’s vintage Rolls.

For a moment, Jade studied them. Both men were tall, well-built, and quiet in a calming way. Both didn’t trust easily, yet they were now laughing like old buddies.

Her mother’s words rang in her head, haunting her.
Don’t trust anyone after the statue. What proof has he offered you?

Jade shook her head. Vince would never lie to her. Besides, Lex could spot a phony a mile away, yet he had warmed up to Vince after just one meeting and was now showing off his high-priced toy. Knowing her brother, he had Vince investigated. No, her mother was wrong. Vince would never lie to her.

***

“Is something wrong with your food?”

Jade looked up. “Huh?”

Vince put down his fork and pushed aside his half-eaten cognac-flamed veal fillet. Jade had been acting funny since they left her brother’s place. Maybe longer than that. Was she worrying about Yannick?

“You ate your salad, but haven’t touched your pasta. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” She wrinkled her nose delicately. “I’m just not hungry.”

“We’ll be okay, you know.” She shot him a perplexed look. “Whatever Bouchard and Yannick are hatching won’t work.”

A small smile curved her lips. “Good will triumph over evil and all that good stuff?”

“No.
I
won’t let them win.”

“Such confidence.” It was a turn on even though her mother’s words still rang in her head. Jade shook her head then stifled a yawn. “Excuse me. I’m beat.”

His fault for not letting her sleep. Vince signaled the waitress, then reached the back of his pants pocket for his wallet. Once he paid their bill, he escorted Jade out of the restaurant, resting his hand on the small of her back as they skirted around tables filled with patrons.

He glanced at his watch as they waited for the valet to bring his truck around. Twenty after nine. No wonder Jade was tired. He slipped an arm across her shoulders, pulled her closer to his side, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She gave him another tired smile, leaned against him, and went back to staring into the night.

She must really be tired. They’d stayed at her brother’s a little longer than they’d anticipated, then stopped by her house to pick up her laundry and books. She’d insisted on taking inventory of the few intact furniture and things she had left. On their way to his place, they’d decided to stop at Angeli-Caffe-Pizzaria on Melrose Avenue for some Italian cuisine.
         

A valet drove up his battered rental. Vince tipped him, made sure Jade was seated, and went round the car to the driver’s seats. “I’ll have you tucked in bed in no—”

“My mother called,” Jade interrupted.

Vince turned to peer at her. The lights from the restaurant allowed him to see her guarded expression. “When?”

“When we were at my brother’s. We spoke briefly.”

“I see.”

She shot him baleful look, her eyes flashing. “You’re wondering why I didn’t mention it earlier, aren’t you. Well, I wasn’t ready to discuss it.”

Vince noted her snippy tone. For whatever reason, she was spoiling for a fight. He refused to oblige her. “Okay.”

“I was…I’m still processing what she said. I just thought I’d mention it. Can we go now?”

He didn’t start the car. Instead he leaned back against his seat and stared into the night. “Why mention it when you have no intention of telling me what she said?” He turned to look at her. “Feeling a little guilty, are we?”

“Why should I feel guilty? I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ve moved past keeping secrets from each other, Jade, yet here you are, unable to tell me what your mother said. She’s got my statue, doesn’t she?”

“No…maybe…I don’t know. Can we go home now?”

At a different time, he would have been happy to hear her call his apartment home, now he was only interested in what was bothering her. Vince squinted and searched her face. She glared back at him.

“What’s going on, Jade?”

She shook her head. “Don’t push me, Vince. Not tonight. Okay?”

“You don’t want to tell me what she said?
 
Fine.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He left Melrose Avenue, turned right on North Vista Street and headed north toward his rental place at North Curson Avenue. The silence in the car became oppressive, clawing at him. What wasn’t she telling him?

He turned to talk to her once he pulled up outside his apartment and killed the engine, but she didn’t give him a chance. She was already stepping out of the car. Vince raced after her. There was no way he would let her sulk and carry on because of something her mother said. They were discussing this tonight. Right now. He had enough to deal with without adding her to the list.

Jade stood by the door, arms hugging her chest. Vince didn’t speak, just unlocked the door and reached for the light switch.

“Do not turn on the lights, Knight,” a voice with a foreign accent ordered from the darkness of his living room.

CHAPTER 22

Vince’s instinct to protect took over. He reached behind him, pushed Jade away from the door and toward the outside wall, then slid inside the room and whipped the door closed. He hoped she ran to safety and didn’t look back. Whatever beef the intruder had with him, he refused to put her in the middle of it.

Muscles tense and poised for defense, he squinted and scanned the darkened room. No misplaced furniture or a shadow out of place. Anger burned his chest. He hadn’t seen this coming. On a normal day, he would have noticed that the blinds he’d left open were now closed and the security lights hadn’t turned on when they drove up.
  

“Show yourself, you bastard,” Vince snarled, eyes darting around.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

The words came from his right, the accent French. Yannick? Without moving his head, Vince rolled his eyes, attempting to find the intruder. “I don’t take orders in my house.”

“Your house. My gun.” The person stepped forward from beside the black entertainment center, his gun leveled at Vince’s chest. “Now, turn around slowly and open the door.”

Vince’s blood turned cold. He hated guns. Still, he had to buy Jade more time to get away. He still couldn’t tell whether it was Yannick or one of Bouchard’s tin soldiers.

“Who are you? How did you get inside my home?”

“Bring her back inside, Knight.” The man enunciated his words.

Vince sensed his increasing anger. Good. Emotions lead to carelessness. The man moved toward a side-table, but the darkness made it impossible to see his expression or predict his next move. Not that there was much Vince could do with that gun aimed at him. The only possible cover was the loveseat to his left, but he couldn’t outrun a bullet.

“You want to talk, turn the lights on and face me like a man,” Vince said.
 

“One step away from the door and she’s a dead woman.”
   

The emotionless tone sent a chill through Vince. “You’re bluffing.”

The man leaned down and switched on the lamp on the side-table. It wasn’t Yannick. But he recognized the tall man with receding hairline and cold gray eyes. He was one of the guards at the Saint-Noel’s embassy, and Vince thought he saw him last night at the party.

"What do you want?”

The bodyguard lifted a gloved left hand toward his mouth and spoke into what appeared to be a walkie-talkie watch on his wrist. “She’s all yours, boys,”

Vince turned and yanked the door. Jade smothered a screech and staggered back, her eyes wide with fear. He didn’t waste time searching for the man’s accomplices, just reached for her.

“I’m sorry about this, baby, but you must come inside.” He tried to sound calm, but she still cringed.
 

“Why?” she whispered, searching his face before her gaze darted behind him.
      

“You’re in more danger out here.”

She lunged into his arms. This time, he gave the dark parking lot a sweeping glance. Nothing moved, but that didn’t mean anything. His gaze came back to Jade. He wanted to tell her to trust him, that he’d not let anything happen to her, but he had no way of guaranteeing her safety. All he knew was he’d do whatever had to be done to protect her. He led her into the house.

“It’s him,” Jade whispered in a shaky voice when she saw the man with the gun. “The Frenchman who—”

“Montague,
Mademoiselle
Fitzgerald.” The intruder indicated the loveseat with a nod, the gun now pointed at her. “Please, sit down.”

Vince tightened his hands on Jade’s arm and maneuvered her behind him. She grabbed onto the back of his shirt and held on tight. Montague would pay for pointing that weapon at her.

“Tell us what you want and get out of my home,” Vince snarled.

“Move.” The man motioned them away from the door with the gun, his eyes narrowed.

Years of interviewing scumbags had made Vince very good at reading people. The body language, the slight nuances in their tone, their eyes. Montague couldn’t hide his desperation, something Vince would have used against him had he been alone. Keeping Jade safe took precedence now.

Vince slowly moved away from the door, while Jade shuffled along behind him. He reached back to steady her when she stumbled, then stopped after they cleared the loveseat. The coffee table separated them from Montague who was now by the door. The urge to use the coffee table as a weapon washed through Vince, but he quenched it.

“Okay, old man, you have our undivided attention.”

“I’m here to offer you a deal,” the man said.

“I don’t make deals with killers and murderers.”

Montague shook his head. “I don’t have time to play games, Knight. Do you want to hear my offer or not?”

Vince cocked his eyebrows. “Did Cohen get one? My father?”

“Yes,” Montague snapped. “They refused to take it.” A sound from outside caused the man to flinch, his eyes darting to the nearest window. “Don’t make the same mistake.”

Jade peeked from his side, but Vince’s gaze didn’t shift from Montague. Was that fear in the man’s eyes? “I’m not interested in your offer.”

Cursing under his breath, Montague reached inside his pocket. Jade gasped when he pulled out her missing pearls.

“I’m trying to do the right thing, Knight.” He dropped the necklace on the loveseat. “You owe me.”

“For returning something you stole?” Vince said with a sneer.

“No, for the information I gave you yesterday.”

This time Jade’s gasp was for a different reason. Vince had no time to explain. After he got kicked out of Saint-Noel embassy, Montague had walked right past him and deliberately dropped a piece of paper with Bouchard’s itinerary.

“You led me to a trap,” Vince snapped. “Your psycho assassin almost killed me.”

“Not mine. I had no idea they’d planned to kill you. Don’t expect to get lucky twice, not with Yannick.”

Jade moaned.

The bodyguard heard her and shot her a mocking grin. “He’s relentless and never makes the same mistake twice.” Headlights swept the window and panic flashed in his eyes. “Giving up the statue is the only way to stop them…
him.
”

Vince frowned. The man was definitely scared. Maybe he could sidetrack him and take him down. “Did you piss your boss off, Montague? Is he after you, too?”

The older man ignored the digs. “All I need is information on Mrs. Fitzgerald’s whereabouts. She’s not on board the cruise ship, although her luggage is in her room. Her name appeared on the passenger list on the flight from LAX to Miami, but wasn’t on any flight that left the nearby airports on the day she arrived or since then. Where is she?”

“Why?” Jade piped, once again peering from behind Vince, her hand still gripping his shirt. “What has she done to you?”

“She has the statue. We’ve checked the homes of everyone who was at that party, their boyfriends’ and mistresses’ homes, bank and safe deposit boxes for any transactions, and turned up nothing. The only home we haven’t searched is your mother’s.”

Vince shrugged. “Tough luck.”

Montague’s lips tightened. “Just tell me where she is. Once he has the statue, he’ll ease off.”

There was no doubt “he” meant Bouchard. “Will he stop hunting you down then? Is the statue your bargaining chip?”

As if tired of playing a part, Montague’s shoulders dropped, but the gun was still leveled at them. “I’m done. He wasn’t like this, not when I started working for him thirty years ago. The general and his crazy talks about prophesies did this to him, but I don’t want to be a part of it. Not anymore. I want to spend the rest of my life playing with my grandchildren.” He threw them a pleading glance. “So please tell me where Mrs. Fitzgerald is. Take me to her. Bring me the statue once you get it. Anything.” He pulled out a piece of folded paper from his pocket and dropped it beside the pearls on the loveseat. “That’s where I can be reached.”

Silence filled the room.

Vince couldn’t find it in him to feel sorry for the guy, not after what he’d put them through. His father was still in a coma, and Cohen was dead. Vince glanced at the folded piece of paper, then shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t give it to you.”

The older man let out an annoyed snicker. “Why? You would put her life,” he nodded at Jade, “and her mother’s life in danger because of your father? Men like the judge don’t change. He’ll never welcome you in his life just because you found his missing statue. He’s the same man who rejected you. The same man who treated your mother like dirt. He’s incapable of loving anybody but himself.”

The words hit a nerve, reminding Vince of his initial objective to use the statue to show his father what he’d missed by rejecting him, maybe even win his love. But that was in the past now. What he didn’t like was the fact that Montague and Bouchard knew so much about him.

“Are you done?” Vince asked, his voice flat.

The bodyguard added something in his native language and continued to sneer at him.

“You want to say that that again in English, old man,” Vince asked.

“You’re a fool. Bouchard will hunt you down. He’s not above using the people you love to get his way. People like her,” he nodded at Jade, “or your sick uncle on the island. He’s been planning this a long time, and nothing will stop him. No one can.” He added something in French, then sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.” He turned, opened the door, and slipped out of the room.

Vince moved forward to pick up the paper and the pearls. On the paper was the name and number of a cheap motel in Pasadena. A sound caused Vince to whip around. Jade was frantically punching numbers on her cell phone and muttering under her breath.

“What is it? Who are you calling?”

“My mother.” She brought the phone to her ear.

“Why?”

“She’s at the chateau of the old man Montague mentioned. I must warn her. Ask her to leave. She told me she was visiting an eccentric old man who owned lots of antiques and shuns modern technology. That’s why she couldn’t return my calls. They were forced to turn over their cell phones to the guards.” She brought the phone to her ear. “When Montague spoke in French, he said the crazy old man deserved to be locked in his dungeons with his relics. Maybe I’m paranoid, but it sounds as though they’re talking about the same man. Excuse me. Mom,” she spoke into the phone, “We have an emergency here at home. It’s a matter of life and death. Please, please come home. Call me.” She closed the phone and frowned. “What if she doesn’t get my message?”

Vince didn’t answer her. “Is that what you couldn’t share with me earlier?”

Jade shot him a pleading look. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so horrible to you over nothing. Whatever she said doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

“What exactly did she say?”
 

A loud moan came from outside the door, interrupting him. Jade jumped back when another one followed it. This time, it sounded as though someone had scratched on the door.

“Stay back.” Vince moved toward the door, head angled to catch any sounds from outside. He killed the living room lights and waited. There was nothing but silence, the kind of eerie silence that made his skin crawl.

He turned his head toward Jade. She had scooted to the hallway leading to the bedrooms and was watching him with wary eyes, her hands gripping the doorway. In case someone came charging into the apartment, he wanted her out of harm’s way.

“Go to the bedroom and lock the door,” he instructed in a whisper. “Don’t come out until I tell you to.”

Jade nodded jerkily, then disappeared. Once he heard the bedroom door close, Vince backed up to the kitchen, opened a drawer and retrieved his leather knife belt. He snapped it on and made sure the stainless steel blades were secure as he hurried back to the front door. If anyone rushed him, he’d be ready for them. He pulled out one of the knives and held it firmly in his hand.

He squatted by the window and lifted the corner of the blinds to peer outside. No one lurked in the shadows of the dark parking lot, but something was on his front porch. He couldn’t tell what it was. He grabbed the knob, turned, and yanked it open.

Nothing happened.

He peered outside and saw the body sprawled on the dark-brown welcome rug. When he flipped the switch, the light from the living room and illuminated…Montague.

The older man’s eyes were wide. His right hand was extended and lay near the door. The left was wrapped around his neck, attempting to stop the blood from oozing out of the deep slashes on his neck. More cuts were visible on his black shirt and pants, the blood making the fabrics stick to his body.

Yannick and his damned whips. Vince’s glance swept the parking lot as he pulled off his shirt. Was he still out there? Waiting for him to step outside so he could get him, too? Like before, nothing moved in the darkness. But a trail of blood led deeper into the dark lot and more pooled around Montague’s body. The bastard had crawled from the point of attack before collapsing on the porch.

Vince crouched down next to Montague, removed the man’s hand, and replaced it with his shirt. The cuts were deep, the body still warm. He placed two figures to Montague’s throat. No pulse.