Because You Love Me (17 page)

Bridget wished the man hadn’t been so forthright with the details, as Rodney had been a powder keg of nervous energy since that phone call. He was more determined than ever to retrieve the flash drive, certain it was his only ticket to salvation.

Bridget scratched her head. The black wig Rodney had procured made her head itch. She sat in the passenger’s side of Mark’s truck as they began their bumpy descent off the mountain. Jacob, Matt and Rodney were in Jacob’s car, following behind. They’d decided to split up. While Bridget wore a disguise, Rodney didn’t. His hope was if the hit man was waiting at the airport and looking for them, he’d see Rodney but not her. Rodney had booked a later flight on his own. Matt and Mark would be accompanying Bridget to New York. In the city, Rodney’s partner would be waiting to usher Bridget, Mark and Matt all into protective custody until the trial began.

She’d been touched when Matt and Mark had offered to travel to New York with her. They’d already risked so much for her. While they remained with her in the city, Caleb, Jessie and Jake had assured them they would hold down the fort on the ranch. Bridget knew there simply weren’t words to thank the James family for all they’d done for her.

Bridget had convinced them to make one stop on the way out of town. She was determined to make a last-ditch attempt at retrieving the flash drive. Rodney had been back to the bank twice since his initial visit, once with a list of guess pin numbers they’d created using Lyle’s birthday, her birthday, and the year they graduated from college. None of them had worked. The second time, Rodney had shown the bank manager Lyle’s obituary and told him he’d been left the key in the will. The manager had requested to see the will. Rodney had left in a pique of anger and frustration.

Mark pulled up in front of the bank just as it was opening. They had four hours before their flight to New York took off, but they had at least an hour’s worth of driving to get to the nearest airport in Laramie.

He glanced around at the mostly deserted street. “I still think this is a mistake.”

“I can’t go home without trying, Mark. I know what we’ve spent all this time looking for is in here.”

She watched Rodney get out of the car as Jacob pulled into the bank parking lot at the side of the building. The plan was simple. Rodney would go inside to make sure the coast was clear. He’d text Mark, who would follow Bridget to the door. Then Matt and Mark would stand guard duty at the front entrance while Jacob watched the back.

Bridget’s heart began to race with fear and anticipation when Mark’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. “Looks like it’s go time.”

He got out of the truck, crossing to open the passenger door for her. He kept her in front of him, covering her back against most of the open street behind them as they approached the bank.

Matt met them at the door. “Ten minutes, Bridge. Then we’re coming in to get you. I don’t like this. I’ve got a real bad feeling.”

She agreed, but they’d come too far to turn back now. “I’ll be fast. Promise.”

Walking in, she spotted Rodney standing near a side wall. He walked over to meet her. “Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

Crap. Did everyone have the heebie-jeebies? “I just want to talk to the bank manager.”

Rodney sighed. “I’ve done that. A few times. He’s an asshole and he’s not going to budge.”

Bridget ignored his skepticism and walked to the office near the back. “Is this his office?”

He nodded.

She knocked lightly and then entered when beckoned. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she was determined she wasn’t leaving this bank without looking in the safe-deposit box.

She pulled out the key and then, on a lark, she retrieved Lyle’s coded message as well. The manager smiled at her until Rodney entered the room as well. Then he frowned.

“Back again? Do you have a copy of the will?”

Rodney shot her a look that said,
This is pointless,
but he remained quiet.

She started to speak, then her gaze landed on something she hadn’t noticed before written lightly across the top of the message in pencil, something that had been erased.

“Did you write this?” she asked Rodney.

He glanced where she pointed. “Yeah, I was trying to keep track of our number codes. The theory of six and then the countdown idea. I think that was what the code turned out to be, but those numbers don’t make any sense.”

There were four digits that appeared to be random. Something clicked in her mind. She pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts list. She’d never been able to bring herself to delete Lyle’s name. “It’s the last four digits of his phone number.” She held her phone out to show Rodney the screen.

“That’s pretty clever. How the hell could you not remember that?”

She scowled. “First of all, we never really wrote down the number code—I’m a visual learner. And secondly, once I plugged Lyle’s number in my phone, I never looked at it again. Just hit his name on my phone list whenever I wanted to call him. It’s not like I had the damn thing memorized. Hell, I don’t even know my mother’s number. You know, this is the problem with cell phones. No one bothers to learn phone numbers anymore.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m not about to get into a debate about the pros and cons of smartphones with you. Can we just get this show on the road? We have a flight to catch.”

She wrote the numbers six, five, five, four on the piece of paper and handed it to the bank manager. He compared the numbers to his and then smiled at her.

“Very good,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led the two of them into a vault filled with safe-deposit boxes. Bridget used the key to open the box. Inside she found a flash drive and a letter. She grinned as she pulled them out. “Told you it would be on a flash drive.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “You always have to be right, don’t you?”

“I don’t have to be. I just naturally am,” she teased. They’d done it. They’d broken the code and retrieved the flash drive. For the first time in months, Bridget felt like everything was going to be okay.

“God help your guys.”

She knew he meant his words as a joke, but instead they sent a piercing pain straight to her heart. Okay. So maybe not everything. She’d come to think of the James twins as hers, but how much longer could that last? She was going home. There was a light at the end of her tunnel, and she couldn’t see Matt and Mark in the beam.

She handed Rodney the flash drive and opened the letter. It was handwritten. Her throat closed up when she spotted Lyle’s familiar messy scrawl.

Dear Bridget,

If you are reading this, two things have happened. One, you’ve figured out my clues—well done. And two, I’m dead. I knew the moment I uncovered what the judge was up to that my days would be numbered if I kept digging. I pursued it anyway. We all make decisions in life, Bridget. Some good, some bad. One of the best decisions I ever made was befriending you. You’re honest, smart and a little bit quirky—all good characteristics in my book. I loved you despite your inexplicable fascination for Hugh Grant, scary movies and smutty pirate books.

Now it’s up to you. Finish the job. Do what I couldn’t. The information contained on this drive can put not only Judge Lucian Thompson away for a very long time, but also thirty-seven criminals who bribed their way to freedom rather than pay for their crimes. I leave their fate in your hands.

Your friend,

Lyle

Bridget swallowed hard, wiping away the tears that started to fall. She hadn’t cried once for her friend. She’d been whisked out of the city under cover of darkness the night he was murdered. She hadn’t been able to go to his memorial service, and as she was shuffled from safe house to safe house, she hadn’t had time to grieve for him. Hearing his voice through the words of his letter opened the floodgates, and she feared there would be no stopping them now.

“Oh, damn, Bridget. I’m sorry, baby.” Rodney wrapped his arms around her while she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

She let her emotions go for only a few minutes. She didn’t dare indulge them for longer than that. She’d already lost one friend over the contents of this drive. She couldn’t allow anyone else to die. She sniffled and wiped her eyes quickly. “I know we have to go.”

Rodney nodded. “I wish there was more time for you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I know what I need to do. I can do it.”

Rodney placed a friendly hand on her cheek. “You are one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. You’re going to be the greatest reporter New York City has ever seen. I know that in my soul. I’m proud to know you.”

She smiled, bending forward to kiss Rodney on the cheek. “And you’re my hero. Thank you for everything.”

Bridget tucked Lyle’s letter into her pocket, while Rodney put the flash drive in his. They walked toward the entrance of the bank together. Bridget felt a strange unease when she spotted Matt and Mark’s backs through the window. A wave of panic, a premonition of danger tweaked at the edge of her consciousness.

Rodney turned to her. “Stay here for a minute. Let me go first to make sure everything’s clear.”

“Rodney. Wait.”

He winked. “No time. Don’t worry, kitten. It’s a piece of cake from here on out.”

Her heart raced with fear as he walked out of the bank, then she took a deep breath and moved. She was about to open the door to follow when shots rang out in the street. She reacted without thought, running outside in time to see Rodney fall. She started to run for him, but she was tackled from behind. Refusing to stop, she clawed herself closer to Rodney.

“Goddammit, Bridget. No.” Mark’s voice sounded loud in her ear as he covered her. More shots sounded and she felt something like gravel pelt her face.

“Get her to the fucking car!” Rodney yelled, his voice laced with pain. “Bridget, take this. Get to New York.” He pressed the flash drive into her hand.

She grasped his fingers. “I’m not leaving you.”

An engine roared to life and a truck jumped the curb, screeching to a halt next to where she and Mark lay on the sidewalk. It provided cover from the unseen gunman. Matt flung the door open. “Jump in!”

Mark rose quickly, lifting her with him and tossing her into the cab of the truck. Matt moved over to the passenger side, his hand pressed against the back of her skull. She pulled off the stupid wig and tossed it to the floor.

“Keep your head down,” Matt commanded.

More bullets hit the truck, one of them smashing the back window.

Bridget screamed. Mark climbed into the truck and floored it, spinning tires in his haste to escape.

“Rodney!” she yelled, determined they go back for him.

“Jake has him,” Mark said, not hitting the brakes. “He and the security guard dragged him into the bank while we put you in the truck. They’ve got him inside. He’s going to be fine.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. The police had been alerted and God, please let there be an ambulance for Rodney.

There’d been blood. So much blood. Lyle’s lifeless face formed behind her eyelids, only it wasn’t Lyle anymore. It was Rodney. She choked on a sob. “He was shot. We have to go back.” She tried to sit up as Mark drove past the city limits at an ungodly speed.

She’d barely lifted her head when more shots rang out, one of them striking the back of the truck.

“Fuck!” Mark looked in the rearview mirror. “The bastard is chasing us.”

Matt, keeping low, peered over the seat, looking back. “Black Mercedes, tinted windows. Can’t see the driver. Shit, get down! He’s firing again.”

Matt ducked down, covering Bridget as Mark swerved the vehicle across both lanes, trying to dodge the bullets.

Mark took a sharp turn off the main road, not bothering to brake. For a second, Bridget would have sworn they were on two wheels.

Mark slapped the steering wheel. “Mother fucker. He’s still back there.”

They swerved sharply again and Bridget slid into Matt’s lap. Matt kept her head pressed down. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach as the car made another hard turn, this time to the left.

Matt glanced back. “Good call taking Old Mill Road.”

Mark nodded. “Figure he’ll have a hard time driving. Might keep him from shooting at our asses.”

They took two more turns at high speed. Bridget feared there was no way they could continue at this pace without crashing.

“Hairpin’s coming up,” Matt warned.

“I know.” Mark jerked the wheel roughly to the right, and this time Bridget knew they were on two wheels. She felt the truck tip sideways and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable impact.

Instead, the truck’s airborne tires hit pavement once more. Mark struggled to keep the truck on the road as the back end swerved.

A loud crash sounded from behind them. Bridget felt Mark press on the brakes.

“What are you doing? Why are you stopping?” she asked.

“Christ.” Mark stopped the truck completely as he and Matt turned in their seats to look behind them. Bridget lifted her head, expecting them to push her down again. She knew when neither man took notice of her that the car chase had indeed ended with a bang.