Read 11 Online

Authors: Kylie Brant

Tags: #Fiction & Literature

11 (24 page)

BOOK: 11
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And when the climax shattered her, it was Jude she saw. Jude she clung to as she was swept into a pool of tumultuous pleasure.

Somehow they’d made it to his bed. She didn’t remember getting there. Mia stared at the ceiling, waiting for her breathing to recover, with him pressed against her side. Even as her body still quivered and her senses remained steeped in him, whispers of unease were creeping along nerve endings recently satiated.

Wanting something was a stepping-stone to wanting more. That truth hammered inside her. To pretend otherwise was a lie and Mia made it a point not to lie to herself.

He turned toward her, seeming half asleep, the picture of a lazy satisfied male and hooked one leg over both of hers.

She froze. Her reaction wasn’t logical. They’d just been shatteringly intimate. But nothing about her most visceral responses was rational. The unease bloomed to distress, and it took every ounce of strength she had to battle it back, shove it aside, her muscles tense with the struggle.

As if he recognized her sudden agitation, he moved away, leaving several inches between them on the bed. Only their hands touched. A silent breath of relief streamed out of her.

“Just so you know.” His voice was a husky rumble in the darkness. “When we’re back in DC…when this is all ended…you and I will just be beginning.”

His words elicited a tiny quiver of joy that was quickly doused by a bitter dose of realism. “That can’t work.”

“I know why you don’t think so. You’re wrong.”

She turned her head to face him. That calm certainty, so reassuring at times now had nerves scampering up her spine. “I’m not like other people.” Acceptance of that fact followed her every day since her escape. “My thinking, my responses. I’m broken. And that isn’t going to change.”

“Here’s the thing.” He rolled to his side, careful not to move too close. “A man who would ask you to change isn’t someone who deserves you in his life. You’ve got more guts than anyone I know, Mia. You’ve got the courage to reach for something good, too.”

He could have been reading her mind earlier. She shook her head. Sought for a way to convince him. “I can’t bathe with you near.” Her words were a shamed whisper. “Twice a week we were allowed to shower. All under his observance. No privacy. Sometimes…he assaulted us there. And it’s stupid that I can’t shake the fear. The bathroom door…has a lock. Sometimes reason is no match against the flashbacks.”

“Logic is just the shiny wrapping around our most primal instincts. Sometimes those instincts win. It doesn’t change who you are. It just is.”

And he would know, she recalled swiftly. The trauma he’d endured as a child would have had to leave inner scars as well as exterior ones.

He spoke again, in what had to be a deliberate attempt to lift her spirits. “I know how you feel. That filleting knife? I still can’t eat fish.”

A breath of a laugh escaped her. “That’s awful.”

“It is.” His fingers laced with hers. “Makes Lent tough.”

She was lying in the same bed with a man that she’d just made love with. Maybe he was right. It would have been unimaginable even a week ago. “I didn’t know you were Catholic.”

“My foster family was. Some of it stuck.”

“You went into foster care…after?”

“My father was killed in prison. I landed with good people. Small town, a lot like this one. Big dopey dog. Brothers and a sister. The Gilberts were there for every surgery. Every recovery. And after my dad was gone they wanted to adopt me. I couldn’t do it.”

She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Why not?”

“Maybe I was like you.” His speech was beginning to slow, as if succumbing to sleep. “Afraid to reach for something in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t know then that if we don’t make a grab for happiness when we can, we might never get another chance.”

Mia lay awake long after he slept. She waited for the gradual skittering of nerves that would force her from the bed. They never quite appeared. She was aware of him, in a heightened sense that made sleep difficult, but not unpleasant.

She wanted to embrace his words, but the past had a way of rubbing sooty fingers over the future. It was easier to be alone. Safer to have no hopes.

But far lonelier.

And as night turned into the first pale light of day, she still hadn’t figured out which was worse.

 

* * * *

“Try not to get the shit kicked out of you today.”

“Hunter!” Mia admonished the operative. Then her mouth curled. “I can concur with the sentiment while objecting to the phrasing.”

“Yeah, you two are hilarious.” Jude closed down his mini-laptop. “The next time I have a vein open, I definitely want you both at my side.” He knew what he looked like this morning. His face was a lot worse than it had been last night. The bruises were darkening and his eye, despite the application of ice, was swollen half-closed.

“What’d you figure out from the property records searches?” Mia asked. She’d kept her distance this morning, sitting on the sofa with Hunter drinking coffee. Jude recognized she was attempting to rebuild her guard after last night. He even understood it. She could have her space. He just wasn’t going to let her use it as a wedge to lever him out of her life.

“Weale’s home in Davison lists for three hundred thousand and change, which is well above average for houses in this town.” He started to lean back in the chair. Stopped at the warning pull in his ribs. “The Jackson Hole property is assessed for about the same, which isn’t extravagant at all considering the market there. It’s not on water, which would have upped the value appreciably.”

“So there’s no evidence that he’s fallen into a big pot of money.” The disappointment in her tone would be difficult to miss.

“Without knowing what his paycheck is, it’s hard to guess whether he’s living within his means. But there are no red flags at this point, no.” According to what Mia had found online yesterday they could be certain he wasn’t The Collector. But it was still a mystery as to who had sent the email to Munson yesterday and that was one of the answers Jude hoped to get today.

He rose, the small laptop in his hand. “After nosing around a bit more, I’m going to drive to Jackson Hole.”

There was a flash of something in Mia’s eyes before she disguised it. “That’s a seven hour trip.”

“About that.”

“Blake and Paulo will be here this evening,” Hunter pointed out. “Why not wait for them?”

“By the time they arrive I’ll already know if there’s a reason for them to meet me there. Otherwise it’d be a wasted trip for all of us.” But he was willing to bet if Weale was laying low it wouldn’t be here in town with overly interested neighbors and friends who might check up on him. Jackson Hole was close enough to arrange to send three thugs after Jude. And there was still the link to the South Dakota mail drop to look into. “Don’t worry.” He set Mia a half smile. “I won’t use the direct approach this time.”

“Stealth would be good,” she agreed faintly. “So would keeping your head down until your backup arrives.”

“We’ll make arrangements to fly out tomorrow morning,” Hunter said.

Jude’s gaze lingered on Mia, but she refused to meet it. Something inside him twisted. He wouldn’t push, no matter how much he wanted to. No one knew better than he did how long it took to reverse defenses years in the making. “I checked online. Carlson Motors is a local car dealership and their site says they rent vehicles.”

Hunter nodded. “I’ll call them. You be careful out there. You can’t afford another day like you had yesterday.”

He opened the door. “Any fight you can walk away from is a win.”

“Or crawl,” Hunter muttered.

It was too early in the morning for dark humor, especially at his expense, Jude decided. He was well aware of the wide berth the people in the hallway of the hotel gave him when they passed. He’d just been lucky not to run into someone yesterday when he was returning to his room looking like a prizefighter after going ten rounds.

He kept an eye out for the men who’d jumped him, but not surprisingly didn’t see any of them. Jude would have liked to get some answers about whom they were working for. He may still get a chance. Whoever had sicced the trio on him likely wasn’t going to give up easily.

He swung by Weale’s house. It didn’t look any more occupied than it had yesterday, but there really was no way to be certain. The same elderly woman was walking her dog, and it was clear from her stare that she recognized his car.

He got out of the vehicle and approached her, being careful to keep his hands in the open and not to get too close. His face would be threatening enough.

Sure enough her eyes widened, and she bent down to snatch up the fur ball she’d been walking. “Good morning, ma’am. Wondering if you could answer a question for me.” He stopped several feet from the curb. But looking harmless was a feat that was beyond him.

“What happened to your face?” She hugged the small creature she was holding to her sagging chest.

“I got mugged on my way back to the hotel.” Mugging was an understatement given the intent of the crew sent after him, but she’d understand the term. “I’m an old school friend of Eldon’s. We haven’t seen each other for years. I was traveling nearby and thought I’d detour to surprise him.” He gestured to his swollen eye. “Got this for my troubles. Not a friendly town, apparently.”

She seized on the words, as he’d hoped she would. “Davison is a very friendly place. No one from here would do something like that. But we do sometimes get a large group of strangers who come for some showing or other at Davis Antiquities. I believe they have something going on now, in fact.”

“Well, I’ll probably be on my way. Hate that I didn’t get to see Eldon, but I stopped in where he worked yesterday and they told me he’d gone fishing.”

“Oh.” The news seemed to take her by surprise. “He usually mentions his trips to us. No wonder we didn’t see him come home last night.”

That information was really all Jude had been looking for. “When you see him, tell him Sam Fielding stopped by.” He started to head back to his vehicle.

“I’ll be sure to do that. And I hope you’ll come back sometime. Things like muggings don’t happen in Davison. We’re a quiet little place.”

Next Jude drove by the Davis Fine Antiquities building, surprised when the parking lot was almost completely empty. There was only one car there and the lights were off inside. A sign on the front door said it was closed for the day for a Customer Appreciation party. No indication of where the party was to be held or the time. Apparently if people were invited, they already knew.

He pulled next to the lone car outside the building and proceeded to wait. His patience was rewarded twenty minutes later when the willowy saleslady he’d seen yesterday came out the side door and carefully locked it before hurrying toward her car. Her steps faltered when Jude got out of his vehicle.

“I was in your building yesterday. Do you remember me?”

She glanced around, saw they were alone and halted. “I do. Hello. You seem to have had an accident since then.”

“Ran into a door,” Jude said laconically.

The woman blinked. “That must have been some door. I’m sorry, as you can see we’re closed for the day. We’ll open again tomorrow.”

“The sign said some big shindig was going on.” The lady kept her purse clutched to her chest as if it contained something valuable. Or held a canister of Mace.

“Yes, at the Davis estate. It’s an annual event.” She gave a slight smile. “Invitation only, I’m afraid.”

“Will Eldon Weale be there?”

She looked surprised at the question. “I don’t know. I was surprised to learn he wasn’t working yesterday. Mr. Davis indicated to you that he was on vacation, so perhaps not.”

“Seems odd, doesn’t it?” Jude walked toward the hood of his car. Stopped when she took a nervous step back. Propping himself against his vehicle, he continued, “I’d assume all the employees would be needed to help. Lots of details to tend to while putting something like that on.”

“There are, yes. The event runs all day and evening, and tomorrow we’ll have a crowd at the business. But Mrs. Davis, Anthony’s mother, takes care of much of the planning.” She made a move toward her car. “I really need to be getting back. I just stopped to pick up something for Mrs. Davis.”

But Jude wasn’t done with her yet. “How many employees were working yesterday?”

“Ah…well, three in the morning, I think.” She resumed walking toward her car. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m impossibly late. The others were attending to details at the estate. And in the afternoon it was just Mr. Davis and myself.” She got in her vehicle. Started it and back out of the space.

Jude doubted very much whether the woman had been the one to send the email. Which left her boss, Anthony Davis.

Mia had thought her captor might be law enforcement, he recalled. But maybe he was just someone who thought of himself as above the law. Wealth could do that to a person. So could getting away with kidnapping and raping women for more than a decade without having anyone link the crimes.

He pulled out his cell to call Hunter. “I want you and Mia gone, today, as soon as you can arrange it.” A new urgency had risen in him, one that was impossible to ignore. He told him what he’d just discovered. “Do what you have to in order to get a rental delivered now. Pack and head out. Mia can make the flight arrangements on the drive.”

“She made them right after you left, using the same ID as the last couple flights. We fly out of Omaha at five o’clock tomorrow night. We’ll book a hotel.”

Jude thought again of the trio who’d jumped him yesterday. “Watch for anyone who might be following you.”

“I know how to spot a tail. We’ll be careful. What are you planning to do? Still going to Jackson Hole?”

“Yeah.” He got back in his car. “Sounds like Davis is going to be tied up until later tonight. Which means it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with Weale and have a little chat.” Jude started the car. Drove out of the lot. The man would talk to him, because Jude wasn’t going to give him a choice. And by the end of the conversation, he hoped to be a helluva lot closer to discovering the identity of The Collector. At least close enough to provide Raiker with all the connections he needed to prod law enforcement into launching a large-scale investigation.

BOOK: 11
12.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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