Dark Waters (2013) (33 page)

She’d tried to keep some sort of guard on her emotions, but there was a huge difference between telling yourself not to get emotionally involved, and not doing it. Especially when you were both naked. After what they’d been through over the last few days, it was hard not to feel something. And after the way he’d made love to her last night and burned away her demons, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t already halfway in love with him. But maybe that was just gratitude and postcoital glow.

She used the restroom and washed her hands, letting the water flow coolly over her wrists.

Their plan was to cross the border and meet up with Brent’s future sister-in-law at Emerson. It was only a few hours to the
border, but Brent was worried the border was going to be watched, so they were going to wait until it started to get dark again, during which time Anna would go insane. Hopefully Holly would be there to meet them and no one would get hurt or arrested. A huge icy claw slid inside her. She couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for getting Brent sent back to prison. She wouldn’t let that happen, and between her and Finn and Holly’s RCMP connections, they’d fight to keep him safe.

Was
this
love?

How did you even know? How did you put faith in that sort of nebulous emotion?

Walking back from the restrooms, she passed the office and noticed the computer they had for customer use was free. She bit her lip. They were leaving anyway. What harm could it do to send her mom a quick e-mail telling her not to worry? She didn’t even know if she’d received the first message about Dad.

She walked inside and sat down. Should she?

No one was around as she opened up her webmail. Seven messages marked
URGENT
caught her attention. All from Ed. She opened one up. All it said was “call me” with Ed’s cell phone number. Her heart tripped in her chest. She and Ed weren’t close, but they got on OK. Why was he e-mailing her and not her mom? She spotted a pay phone. Dug ten dollars out of her purse and got change from the guy behind the desk. She dialed her mother’s cell first, but it was turned off. So she tried Ed. He answered on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Ed, it’s me, Anna.”

“Thank God, Anna. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

From the desperation in his voice, she wondered if the cops were using him to track her down. If that monster who’d killed Peter had escaped, then they might consider Anna a suspect…

“Your mother is sick.” His voice shook in obvious distress and he sobbed. Ed wasn’t that great an actor and her mother was the center of his universe.

“I thought you were on a cruise?”

“She took ill in Anchorage and we flew back to the island. You have to come now. They said she might not make it more than a few hours.” He broke down, completely undone.

Her mother was sick, dying.
Oh, God
. Coming on top of her father’s death a week ago, she felt like her world had shattered.

“Which hospital?”

Ed gave her the name of the hospital where she’d been admitted all those years ago, and told her to call him when she got into Victoria. She hung up the phone, and something made her look up. There was Brent, watching her. His eyes were hooded, cold even. None of the lover and all of the ex-con.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Change of plan,” she told him as they walked back to their cozy little campsite. It was packed up now. All trace of their stay here folded and stored in the back of the jeep. Except she’d never pack away the memories. They meant more to her than all the money in the world. Her hands shook and she tried to steady them by putting them on her hips. “I spoke to Ed. Mom’s seriously ill. She’s been taken to the hospital.” Her voice broke as she climbed into the jeep. “I need to fly back to Victoria straightaway—”

“Holly can’t meet us until later today.”

She swallowed the ball of fear and anger that lodged in her throat. “There has to be another way. Ed said she might only have a few hours.” Reality hit her hard in the chest. She wanted to cling to him, but from his expression, that wouldn’t be a good idea. “She might die.”

“It’s not safe.” He sat poised to turn the key in the ignition and she wanted to yell at him to hurry.

“What about paying someone to take us in a small private aircraft like we did last time?”

He closed his eyes and seemed to be trying to rein in his temper.

“I’ll pay you back—”

“I don’t want your damned money!” he yelled. He ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know anyone here. I have no connections. Crossing the border with Holly is the safest way to get you into protective custody.”
And make sure I don’t end up in jail
hung silently in the air.

He started the car and they started driving. North. Toward the border.

The image of Peter dead on her kitchen floor whirled inside her mind, along with that of the man with the cobra-cold eyes who’d looked at her like she was naked and his to do with as he pleased. Her insides turned to ice. But what if her mom died while she was hiding from these people? What if she never saw her again, never had the chance to say she was sorry for being such a crappy daughter? Because, with a clarity she hadn’t known before, she realized she’d had a big role in how far they’d grown apart. Her mother had tried to reach out to her over the years and she’d pushed her away for fear of getting hurt. And that distance had also been a weapon that she had wielded with cold precision to keep people away.

It had to stop.

She had to make it stop. “You have other connections. There must be other ways of fighting these guys. People like them who can find them before they kill us…”

He froze, and then shook his head. “Those are not the sort of people I want to deal with.” He swallowed. “All they need is one asshole who’s trigger-happy and we’re looking at conspiracy to murder charges. I won’t prove everyone right about me being a cold-blooded killer.” The tightness of his features made his mouth look harsh. “I’d die for you, Anna. But I won’t kill for you. Not unless there’s no other choice.”

Inside she was quaking. She couldn’t believe she’d even considered it, much less asked Brent. Shame filled her. What did that make her? A liar and a monster. A hypocrite and the worst sort of human being on the planet. But she was running out of
options and these people had no moral compass about fighting fair. Keeping Brent safe and staying alive were important, but if her mom died before she had the chance to see her, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

“It’s just a few hours more until Holly can meet us—”

Her stepfather’s words came back to her. “I can’t wait that long. Drop me off at the nearest airport and I’ll go on my own. They won’t expect it.” She was doing this one way or another. And at least this way would get him out of her orbit and keep him safe.

Brent was quiet for a long moment. “You’d put yourself in danger for a woman who forgot you existed? Who didn’t even notice you were raped and suicidal?”

The words hit like a physical blow, but it said a lot about her inner resolve that she was able to answer him. She raised one brow. “Wouldn’t you?”

He swore and looked away from her. Five minutes later he pulled over and made a call. Fifty-three minutes later, they were airborne.

Jack hated hospitals. He hated doctors, stethoscopes, X-ray machines, hospital food, and, did he mention, doctors? The nurses weren’t bad though, especially the little blonde who’d offered him a sponge bath earlier. He’d refused on medical grounds, but got her number.

“Jerkoff,” he muttered as the latest overeducated, egotistical specialist walked out the door.

“Because he told you to rest?” His secretary crossed her legs and he found himself distracted for a moment. Who knew Ramona had legs? She was usually behind her desk whenever he saw her.

“Because he wants to cut me open again,” Jack grumbled.

“I’m not sure wanting to remove bullet fragments lodged near your lung makes him a jerkoff,” Trace said without looking up.
“Although the whole god complex sure does.” He sat in a corner with three laptops up and running.

“I thought he was nice.” Ramona pressed her lips together to hide a smile.

“He was hitting on you as I lay here dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Ramona chided. “God isn’t that kind to me.” Her prim smile told Jack she was joking. He hoped.

“You going to use that number he gave you?” Jack asked her. Not that he cared, except his secretary dating his surgeon was a worst-case scenario he fully intended to avoid.

Her lips quirked. “Maybe it depends on that raise you promised me.”

“Blackmail. I’m dying and she’s blackmailing me.”

“You’re not dying.” Ramona’s voice grew louder. Jack grunted and Trace slid him a slow smile.

“You got anything yet?” he asked the cowboy. They’d met through Trace’s sister, whom Jack had dated for a couple of months. The relationship had fizzled out, but he still sent her flowers on her birthday for setting him up with her brother who was a freaking online wizard. Jack had just about figured out IP addresses and…yeah, that was about it.

Trace pressed a finger to each temple. “A headache from trying to track money through so many different banking systems when someone went to a lot of trouble to wipe the trail clean.”

“How did Davis Silver set up the accounts last time he stole that money?”

Trace flicked him a glance. “He set up three separate private bank accounts in his name and was pretty damn sloppy about moving the money. A child could have followed that trail. Or even you,” he said pointedly.

“Anyone notice I’m the injured party here? That I was shot?”

They both made rude noises and he laughed, but it hurt. “So, either Davis learned a hell of a lot more about money laundering in the past decade or…”

“Or someone else moved the money this time.” Trace nodded. He’d already figured that out.

“You’ve run other bank accounts in his name, right?”

Trace raised one brow. “It’s only because you got shot that I’m not punching you for that.”

“Don’t let that stop you from trying, sunshine.” Jack grinned. It felt good to joke. It felt damn good to be alive.

“Davis Silver always maintained his innocence.” Ramona’s hand went to her chest and she spoke softly. “What if he was never guilty? What if someone set him up nine years ago too?”

“Then he’s the unluckiest bastard ever.” Jack groaned as he lay back against the pillow. He was worried about his client. And now he was worried about a man he’d never even met having been framed for a crime he hadn’t committed. Those were the worst cases. Miscarriages of justice ate him up inside.

“Any chance you can find out the IP address that was used to create those accounts nine years ago?”

“Nice thinking, boss, but they actually did that in court using Windows’s Primary Domain Controller’s SID—Security ID—which can identify both the individual computer and the user. It was a generic computer in the department where he worked.”

Brent had asked if there was any way of proving his friend’s innocence. “Did the cops look to see if any other accounts were ever set up from that same machine?”

Trace blinked at him. “Wow, that’s actually a real good suggestion.”

Jack felt smug and tried to sit up straighter, but ended up curled over in pain.

Ramona fussed over him. “You need that bullet fragment removed. Before it does real damage and gets into your brain or something.”

“You worried about me, Ramona?” He tried to smile, but fuck if it didn’t hurt. “Fine. Call the damn doc and tell the butcher he can operate.” Ramona buzzed the nurse.

Jack turned to Trace. “Do the search, even if it takes all night.” The pain in his chest was getting worse, nearly overwhelming—and he’d actually thought he’d be getting out of this death trap soon. “If you find anything at all, call the client ASAP. If you can’t reach him, call a woman named Holly Rudd. She’s in his file.” Jack’s vision was starting to fade. That couldn’t be good. “If you can’t reach anyone else, tell the goddamn Chicago PD, but do not reveal our client’s name…” And then he was gone, sinking under waves of faltering vision and screaming machines as people rushed around him.