Enemies and Playmates (27 page)

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Authors: Darcia Helle

BOOK: Enemies and Playmates
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“It’s best for all of us,” Lauren replied.

Kara was silent a moment, watching Lauren stack the remainder of her clothes into the open suitcases. “I thought maybe you’d want to see your father today.”

“I’d like to, for you,” Lauren said. “But I just can’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“Dad and I are better off if we stay away from each other.”
“Aren’t you even the least bit concerned that someone tried to kill him?”

Lauren stuffed her jeans into her suitcase. She wasn’t concerned. Not in the least. Maybe it would have bothered her had he been killed, though she doubted that. He deserved to die.

“He’s been asking about you,” Kara said. “I had to lie and say you couldn’t get away from work.”
“You don’t have to lie for me.”
“I couldn’t very well tell him that his only daughter didn’t care enough to bother with him. Could I?”
“It shouldn’t surprise him.”
“Lauren, please…”
“C’mon mom, we haven’t exactly been a model family all these years.”
“I realize that,” Kara said. “But he is still your father.”
Lauren slid the doors closed on her now empty closet. “How is he?”
“Shaken. But recovering well.”
“That’s good.”
“Please go see him.”
Lauren closed her suitcase. “No.”
Kara sat on the edge of Lauren’s bed, her eyes moist with tears. “Someday you might regret that decision.”
“I doubt it.”
“What are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing.”
“I know something is going on,” Kara said. “Why can’t you trust me?”

“I guess I’ve finally opened my eyes to what kind of person dad really is,” Lauren said. “Or, actually, he has forced my eyes open. And I hate what I see.”

Kara remained seated, her head bowed slightly, silent tears running down her cheeks. “What happened to my family?”
Lauren picked up her two suitcases, a pang of guilt sweeping through her. “I’m sorry, mom.”
“What happened?” Kara said. “Please tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t? I don’t understand. If something -”
“Call my cell phone if you need me.”
“Has he touched you in some way that -”
“No mom.”
“I hate for you to leave this way.”
“I’m only a phone call away.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“It’s for the best,” Lauren said. “I can’t stay here with him any longer.”
Lauren put her suitcases down, went to her mother, and hugged her close. “I love you, Mom.”
Kara clung to Lauren. “Take care of yourself,” she said.
“I will. You do the same.”

 

 

 

23

 

The ring of the phone split the silence of the room. Jesse reached toward the intruding sound, his eyes barely open. He fumbled on his nightstand until he gripped his cell phone, then mumbled a barely intelligible, “Hello.”

“Mr. Ryder?”
“Yeah?”
“This is Suzanne Sampson. Alex Covington’s secretary.”
Jesse sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“No problem.” Jesse glanced at the clock. 6:27. “I had to get up eventually.”
“I have a package for you,” Suzanne said. “Could you pick it up at the office this morning?”
“From Covington?”
“That information you requested. I’ll be at the office by eight. Could you be there about that time?”
“I requested?”
“Yes.
Jesse rubbed his eyes again. His mind was too groggy for word games. “Sure, whatever.”
“I’ll see you soon.”

Jesse disconnected the call and collapsed back onto the bed. What the hell was that about? What information was she talking about? It was too early for his brain to wrap around her words.

After a cool shower, Jesse was able to think more clearly. Suzanne may have decided to help him. Or she wanted his help. Unless this was an incredibly stupid setup. That seemed highly unlikely, since Covington wouldn’t want blood spilled in his office.

Jesse grabbed a bottle of root beer from the refrigerator and drank half while fumbling with his cell phone. Tim’s sleepy voice answered on the fourth ring. “Since when do you sleep so late?” Jesse asked.

Tim groaned. “Since when do you call so early?”
“Can you meet me for lunch at McGuire’s?”
“What time?”
“One.”
“Yeah, I can be there.”
“See you then.”

Jesse hunted down his car keys, found his jacket, and headed out the door. While he sat in a traffic jam, he sputtered to himself. How could a brief business involvement with one man cause such an uproar in his life? How did that one man manage to wreak such havoc in so many people’s lives? And how was anyone supposed to navigate through this city’s tangle of traffic?

Jesse was anything but calm when he finally arrived at Covington’s Law Firm. He glanced at his watch. 8:04. He took the elevator to the top floor, then strode to Covington’s private office suite. Suzanne sat at her desk, absorbed in her typing. Jesse stepped closer and cleared his throat.

Startled, Suzanne looked up. Her cheeks flushed. “Good morning, Mr. Ryder.”
“Morning.”
Suzanne handed him a manila envelope. “Here you are.”

Jesse took the envelope, though he was completely baffled as to its contents. Had he asked her for something? Were these more graphic photos from Covington? He said, “Thanks, I guess.”

“I trust it will all be in order for you.”
“Am I supposed to understand this?”
“Have a good day, Mr. Ryder.”
Jesse stood there a moment. He was too tired to do this dance. He simply shrugged. “Yeah, you too.”

Once in the car, Jesse stuffed the large envelope into the briefcase he’d left in his car. He should actually be guarding that briefcase with his life. It contained all the paperwork relating to Covington. Anything he’d been able to find to help bury the bastard.

Jesse drove straight to his office. His curiosity was killing him but he hadn’t wanted to chance sitting in Covington’s parking lot while he sifted through the contents. It could be a neatly packaged threat from the big man. Or it could be everything he needed to put Covington away.

He parked his car, his mind swarming with possibilities. As he strode across the parking lot, he replayed his last conversation with Suzanne. Maybe he had hit a nerve. She could be scared and want out. Or she could have told Covington about their conversation and now Jesse was in even deeper shit.

Something hard and strong suddenly caught him on the back of the neck. He stumbled to his knees. The trees swayed around him. His vision blurred. Someone grabbed his arm and yanked. Jesse staggered backward. Before he could turn and focus on the face, a silent darkness swallowed him.

 

***

 

Jesse slowly became aware of the sounds of traffic. He forced his eyes open, blinked several times. He wasn’t happy to find that he could only see out of one eye. And not particularly well at the moment. He remained still, trying to get his bearings. His body was stiff and sore. His head throbbed.

The stench of rotting garbage sifted into his consciousness. He listened, hearing the traffic but nothing more. He pushed himself up to sit and immediately found the source of the stench. An open Dumpster was just a foot from his face. He glanced around, surprised to find himself in the alley beside his office building. At least he wasn’t in the trunk of someone’s car.

At least he was alive.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his guard down so easily?

Suddenly he had a sickening realization. His briefcase was missing. And along with it, all the information he’d gathered on Covington. He groaned. And the envelope Suzanne had given him.

Jesse pushed himself to his feet. Blood spatters decorated his jacket and shirt. A coppery taste filled his mouth. But he was alive. That struck him as odd. Not that he was complaining. As he steadied himself and attempted to move his legs forward, he half wished they had killed him. Damn he hurt!

Maybe this hadn’t been Covington’s work. If it had been, he should be dead. Robbery maybe? He checked his pocket. His wallet was there and still contained his vast fortune of twenty-seven dollars. He’d left his gun at home, which had probably been the only smart thing he’d done today. Robbery obviously wasn’t the motive. Unless it was only the briefcase he or they had been after. That was far worse than a missing wallet.

Jesse walked on rubbery legs across the parking lot to the spot he thought he’d been jumped. He checked around the bushes and cars. No sign of his briefcase. Had someone been watching him, or Suzanne, or both? Did someone know what she’d given him and wanted to make sure he didn’t get to keep it? Why the hell hadn’t he taken the time to look?

He leaned against his car and took a few deep breaths. Then he saw it. Just behind the back tire of a canary yellow VW. He let out a long breath of relief. Retrieving it was a lesson in humility, since his body simply did not want to cooperate. But at least he had his briefcase.

He slowly made his way across the parking lot. His head pounded. The one eye he could see out of gave him a distorted and blurred view of his surroundings. He went inside the building, walked a crooked path down the hall, then pushed open the door to his office.

Dawn glanced up from his computer. Her smile instantly faded and her freckled face went pale. “What happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” Jesse said. “Somebody jumped me.”
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“Damn, do I look that bad?”
Dawn hesitated. “Well…”
“I’m okay.” Jesse made it to his office door. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”
“Really, I’m okay.”
“If you say so.”

Jesse placed his briefcase on his desk and collapsed in his chair. He took a moment to just breathe before taking out the manila envelope. He unfastened the clasp and removed the stack of papers. Blinking his good eye several times to bring his vision into focus, he leafed through the pages.

To start with, Suzanne had given him a copy of Covington’s entire personal payroll. Jesse stared at the names, some familiar, some not. Where had she gotten this information? And why was she suddenly willing to risk her life to give it to him?

He switched his computer on. There had to be fifty pages in the stack. Was he going to find anything useful or was she sending him on a wild goose chase? Maybe this was nothing more than a diversion sent by Covington. A bunch of dead ends. Jesse had a gut feeling it was real and that he was about to find what he’d been looking for.

The morning sped by. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His left eye throbbed. His body felt as if he had been attacked by a battering ram.

He checked his watch. Almost noon. He started to close his eyes again when he realized that he’d asked Tim to meet him for lunch at one. He hadn’t looked in a mirror yet but he was willing to bet he couldn’t go looking the way he did. He’d have to swing by his apartment to clean up, which meant leaving now.

He stuffed the papers back into the manila envelope, taking it with him. Dawn watched him, shaking her head. “I was starting to worry about you,” she said. “You’ve been closed up in there for hours.”

“I know. I’ve got a lot to do.”
“You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you feel okay?”
“My head is possessed by demons. Got any aspirin?”
Dawn grabbed her purse from beneath her desk and fished out a bottle of Tylenol. She shook out two and handed them to Jesse.
“Just two?” he said. “I said demons. Not fairies.”
Dawn laughed. She handed him two more tablets. “Are you going home now?” she asked.
Jesse pushed his hair off the gash on his forehead. “Briefly, to clean up. Then a lunch meeting. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“Are you sure you should be driving?”

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