Catch a Shadow (18 page)

“Brave,” Merlin crowed.

“We need some fruit for him,” she said.

“There's a store around the corner. I'll get some. And some takeout for us.”

“That would be good. I'm beginning to get hungry.”

She looked grateful. She shouldn't. She should be damning him. He was the one who had brought the world falling in on her.

“Jake,” she said. “What now?”

“Find a place for you and Sam to go. Somewhere safe,” he said.

“And you …”

He shrugged, “I have to find Adams before he finds you.”

“And then?”

He ignored the question. “Lock the door behind me,” he said. “Use all the locks. Don't open it unless you hear three knocks, a pause, then two more.” He took the Do Not Disturb sign, opened the door, and placed the sign on the outside knob. “I should be back within thirty minutes.”

After he left, the image of a vulnerable-looking Kirke Palmer stayed with him.

He knew his abrupt departure must have puzzled her. But he needed time to think, and she had a way of dulling his senses.

For a moment he put himself in her place. She had nothing now. Not a car. Not a home she could use. Not even many clothes, just those he'd hurriedly thrown into a suitcase. Yet he'd heard not one complaint.

Military and Virginia. It didn't make any sense. Not yet. Maybe she would remember something else. If not, he would have to try to build a plan based on two words.

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He'd seen a large discount store earlier. He stopped there first, purchased two new throwaway cell phones—he'd used his own too much now. He also bought a pocket knife, a tray of fresh fruit, and a bag of apples. At the last minute he added a bag of donuts. After prison food, everything looked good.

Then he stopped at the only fast-food place in sight. He bought one large pizza, half everything, including anchovies, and half pepperoni only. He had no idea what she would like. For all he knew she was a vegetarian. At least then there would be fruit.

He knew damned little about her, her likes and dislikes. He only knew that she was probably the most stubborn woman he'd ever met. The fact that she still hadn't gone to the police reflected either integrity or stupidity, and he didn't think it was the latter.

His ex-wife couldn't get away from him fast enough. She'd been miserable before the South American mission, unable to adapt to the long absences necessary for someone in his profession. Kirke knew he was an ex-con, accused of terrible crimes, and yet she had listened with an open mind. It had been a very long time since that had happened. He had a few friends left—a very few—and those had known him for years. They hadn't believed the charges and still didn't, but Kirke had taken a giant leap of faith with damn little reason.

If she paid a bigger price than she already had, he would not forgive himself, and yet he needed her now. There had to be something more than those numbers. There had to be another hint.

As he drove back to the motel, he thought again about the numbers she'd said were in the letter. If only he could have seen it …

He couldn't fault her. She thought she'd found a safe place … the bottom of a birdcage.

Gene Adams now had the same numbers. Jake would have to discover their significance before Adams did.

He continued to puzzle over them as he parked at the motel. It was one of those motels with a nice front lobby. He drove to the end of one of the wings, went in a back door, and walked through the interior to the room. Kirke's room was ten doors down. Sam's one beyond that.

He'd thought about renting a separate room, but at the moment he didn't want to leave her longer than necessary. He felt it vital, though, that he be at the nightclub where Sam played. He was probably more vulnerable now, and Jake realized if anything happened to him, it would be a terrible blow to Kirke.

Sam's attitude didn't help him, but the musician was Kirke's friend and obviously a good one, and Jake didn't intend to make him pay for that fact.

Kirke's heart had dropped several feet when Jake Kelly had failed to find the letter. She thought she had been so clever.

But then she'd never gone against an international criminal and traitor before.

She checked Merlin's cage once more. She obviously hadn't been clever enough. And now she had nothing to take to the police. Or any other authority for that matter. It would be only her word, and her delay in reporting what she knew would make that word somewhat questionable.

“Merlin hungry,” the bird said.

She filled his dish with bird food. What was she going to do with him? How to make sure he was safe? She couldn't carry him from place to place. He did not do well with change.

Maybe Robin would take him?
If
she called back.

Weighed down with fatigue, she stretched out on the bed. Lord, she hurt in so many places. In her heart as well as her body. She had let Jake down. She'd seen the disappointment, even despair that flickered in his dark eyes when he saw that the letter was gone.

She thought briefly about a shower. She needed one after this day. But she probably shouldn't get the new bandages wet, not to mention those from the prior day.

And then she was too tired to do much of anything.

Except think. Her mind was racing with all that had happened today.

She turned on the television, trying to find news, but the offerings were skimpy. Nothing about the sniper today.

The cell phone rang, and she picked it up.

“Kirke, this is Robin. Sorry to be so late in calling. I've been out of town on a story. Just got back and heard that you had been shot. Then I got your message. Are you okay?”

“Just a flesh wound,” she said.

“A sniper attack? That must have been terrifying.”

“Understatement. My partner was wounded badly, but he's going to make it.”

“Why? Who? The paper doesn't have many details.”

“I don't think the police know,” she said. It wasn't exactly a lie.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She couldn't very well say she called because Sam insisted that someone know where she was. That would mean too many explanations. But she now had another reason. “Can you do an enormous favor for me?”

“I'll try.”

“Can you take Merlin for a few days? Maybe Sam's cat as well?”

There was a short silence, and she could guess at the questions running through Robin's inventive mind.

“Does it have anything to do with the shooting today?”

Kirke hesitated. She didn't want to lie, but neither did she want to alarm Robin. “I need to get away for a few days to rest and recuperate.”

“What about Sam?”

“He might be going out of town, too.”

“Of course, I'll take them,” Robin said. “My cat will like the company, and you know I love Merlin. I introduced the two of you to each other.”

“It might be a short-lived romance,” Kirke replied wryly. She hesitated, then asked, “Where's your husband?”

“He's out of town, will be for another week or two, so I'll enjoy the company. Will you be dropping them by?”

She wasn't sure about that. Her hesitation apparently was noted.

“I can pick them up,” Robin said. “You said you're at a motel? What kind of motel accepts a loudmouthed parrot?”

“A cheap one,” Kirke admitted.

A pause. “Kidding aside, are you in trouble?”

“I just need some time. I haven't taken a vacation in two years.”

“Probably a very good thing. Not to worry about Merlin.”

“You're a lifesaver. With Sam's cat there, Merlin won't get too despondent.”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe the mountains.”

“Have a good time. I have your cell phone if there are any problems.”

“Ah … mine is gone. I'll contact you with a new cell number,” Kirke said. “This one is Sam's.”

“Kirke, are you sure there's nothing wrong? If so, Ben might be able to help.”

“No,” Kirke said a little too quickly. The last thing she needed was Robin's FBI husband becoming involved. But it gave her an idea. “I met an FBI guy earlier. Name was John Davis. Do you know him by any chance?”

“No,” she said. “Don't think so. Why? You finally dating again?”

“There are only so many Bens to go around,” Kirke replied.

“I agree with that,” Robin asked, “and I don't intend to share him.” She paused, then said, “But why the question about this agent?”

“He interviewed me earlier this morning about a hit-and-run, and there was something a little off about him.”

“Can't give up being nosy, huh?”

“No.” Kirke waited a second.

“I'll ask a couple of friends if they know him,” Robin said. “When are you planning to leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You've lucked out. I'm off then. What about nine to pick up the feathered and furry ones?”

“That's great. I'll really owe you.”

“Kirke … you can always stay with me, you know. Especially now that Ben is away. I would love some human company.”

Kirke had no intention of putting anyone else in danger. She was radioactive at the moment. “Thanks. I appreciate it more than you know, but I would really like to get out of the city.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, just call.”

After she hung up, she sat on the bed, wondering whether it was right to drag someone else into this, even on the periphery.

As if knowing his fate was being settled, Merlin flew into his cage, his safe place. Spade jumped up and huddled next to her. He was not in his usual space and was distinctly disturbed about the fact.

She lay back on the bed, putting her arm around the cat. She wanted to stay awake and wait for Jake, but she was so tired. She hadn't had a good sleep in longer than she wanted to remember. Her eyes drifted closed.

She woke to knocking on the door.
The signal
. She dragged herself up and went to the door, blinking as she opened it. She knew she'd lapsed into a deep sleep, and she felt drugged with it.

Jake Kelly entered, in his hands and arms bags and a huge box. He piled everything on the small table.

“Fruit for Merlin. Food for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, hearing the unusual primness in her voice. She suddenly felt shy. Not like her at all.

“You're welcome,” he answered, opening the box. “I'll get some drinks down the hall. Any preference?”

She named a soda and watched as he left. She'd thought she was tired. From what she knew of his past few days, he'd had far less rest than she, and yet there was an energy to each step. Prison had not dimmed his inherent confidence.

She sat up and went to the table to see what he'd bought. She raised the lid of the pizza box. Pepperoni on one side, anchovies, olives, onions, pepperoni, and sausage on the other.

The normalcy of pizza was comforting.

She took a big slice of the side with everything on it. One bite and she was ravenous for more. She looked at the other stuff. Fruit for Merlin. Donuts. Lots of donuts. Two new cell phones.

Then he was back, filling the room with his presence, just as he had from the first moment she'd met him.

His cheeks were shadowed, and his hair looked a bit ragged, but those dark eyes consumed her in a way none had ever done before. She put the slice of pizza down and held her hand out to him.

He took her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers for a moment. Warmth flooded her.

“We need to leave here in the morning,” he said almost regretfully. “They'll figure out before long you won't be back, if they haven't already. They're smart enough to start checking at hotels.”

“You keep saying ‘they.' How many do you think—”

“I don't know. More than two. Adams was at the scene when someone drove the car that hit Del Cox. Then someone else picked him up. There might be more. Probably are. He took up to five million, and that's what he started out with. He knows some very valuable secrets. I imagine he's built a small empire by now, probably in a South American country. A guess would be Argentina or Brazil. Neither are very good about extraditing criminals, and it's easy enough to hide there.”

“Then why did he leave?” she said.

“He knew I would try to find out what happened,” Jake said, “that I wouldn't stop looking until I discovered what had happened that day. He probably tapped my phone, and when he heard about the call with Cox's intermediary, he had to come. No one else knew what Cox looked like.”

Her stomach plunged. How could they ever hope to outmaneuver this Adams and his henchmen?

“You can still go to the police,” he offered.

He'd tried earlier to dissuade her from doing just that. Now he was encouraging her. Was he giving up?

She wasn't aware of a tear running down her cheek until one of his fingers trapped it. Then she felt embarrassed. She was here because she chose to be here. No regrets.
Never have regrets
. She'd decided that long ago.

She knotted her fingers to hide her sudden emotion. And confusion.

She was so darn attracted to him, and she still wasn't altogether convinced he was a good guy. The deadly glint in his eyes a second earlier had sent shivers down her back. It was like looking into a black hole.

Then he sighed and leaned down. His lips touched her face as softly as the sweet touch of a breeze, barely touching her skin but leaving a heated impression. They stopped at her mouth and lingered there. His hand went to the back of her head and rested there.

The light kiss deepened. Fire ignited in her belly, and her hand went to his face. It was rough and yet seductive. Everything about him was seductive, including the aura of danger.

He backed away, and he looked startled. And rueful. One side of his mouth pulled up. There was tenderness in it. And lust.