FullDisclosure (29 page)

The only thing stopping him from offing the bitch right then and there was his fear of Cyril. Cyril had a sadistic streak that had, at times, turned Rufus’ blood cold, and he had no desire to mess with that. But when it came time to kill Sadie—and he was certain that time would come—he would enjoy it more than ever. He would take it slow and make sure she suffered—after he spread her legs and had his way with her numerous times of course.

But then, later, after the dust of her death had settled, Rufus intended to deal with the real culprits. The two men who had bred that streak of fiery independence in Sadie needed to be punished as well. And with or without Cyril’s blessing, Rufus intended to find a way to do that.

But first he had to find his distressingly absent boss. And he had to do it soon.

“You okay, man?” asked Jake as they pulled into the driveway of the Ballantyne estate.

“Yeah, fine. Why?” Only then did Evan realize that his hands had been clenched into fists. They were clenched so tightly that his perfectly manicured nails had left marks on his palms. And his palms were sweating.

“’Cause your face is all red, and I think you’re sweating.” Jake laid a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “I know you’re scared and angry. I am too. But you’ve got to get a grip. We can’t walk in there like steamrollers. This guy is rich and he’s got a lot of
friends
. Friends in high places. We have to approach this delicately.”

Evan blew out a slow breath. Sucked in another. “I know. I know. You’re right. I’ve just…I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know I could.”

Jake rammed the transmission into park. “Oh, I knew you could. I knew you had it in you. I think you’re the only person who didn’t know it.”

Evan gazed at Jake with a new sense of respect and perhaps intimacy. How was it that Jake knew him so well? And more importantly, how was it that Evan had managed to miss it for so long? He’d been an idiot. He’d been blind and stupid when it came to his relationships. He’d managed to salvage it with Jake. He just hoped it wasn’t too late for Sadie.

Jake’s gaze followed the long garden path that led to the Ballantyne front door. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

Two minutes later they were ringing the front doorbell. Predictably, a maid with a thick Newfoundland accent answered.

“Is Mr. Ballantyne in?”

“No sir. I’m sorry.”

Evan felt the keen stab of disappointment, but then Jake asked if perhaps the lady of the house was around. And magically she appeared.

Ellen Ballantyne was a tall, stately woman with sleek chestnut hair and a flawless complexion. Her smile as she greeted them, however, came off as stiff and rehearsed. “Evan.” She extended a hand. “It’s good to see you again. How
are
you?”

Evan was frankly surprised that she remembered him. He had only met her twice, both times at huge charity functions, and both times she had been attending solo. He remembered because she’d made a point of apologizing for her husband’s absence. He’d gotten the feeling such apologies were as routine as breathing. If he’d seen her in a crowd he never would have remembered who she was, however. And here she was, coming up with his name as if they were old friends. Then again, he supposed it was a society wife’s business to remember names. It was all about connections.

“I’m well, thank you.” He shook her hand, trying to keep the motion easy and casual. He had to make a concerted effort not to grip her hand hard enough to break the fragile bones.

“I was so sorry to hear about Nadine. That was such a shock.” She was referring, of course, to his ex-wife’s embezzlement scheme. Ever the social entity, she definitely kept in touch.

“Yes, well. To me as well.” He turned to Jake. “This is my friend Jake Maynard.”

“Of course. You’re the wine guy, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” Jake was obviously startled by the recognition, if not a bit flattered. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before though.”

She flipped a hand in his direction. “Of course. That’s how all my friends refer to you. If they need a special wine, or are not sure what wine to serve with a given meal, they know who to call. The wine guy always has just what they need.”

Jake actually blushed. Damn, she was good.

Evan was getting impatient, but knew the social dance too well to try to rush her. She needed to be at ease.

Finally she made the move for him.

Clasping her hands, she said, “I would love to invite you gentlemen in for a drink, but I suspect you’re not here for a social call. What can I do for you?”

Evan breathed a sigh of relief. “We were actually hoping to speak to your husband, but apparently he’s not here at the moment?”

There was the briefest flicker in her eyes. Flicker of what, exactly, Evan couldn’t say. “I’m afraid not. Despite his promises to make this a family day and actually spend some time with his children, he abruptly disappeared this morning.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Actually no. He was unusually evasive. He said something about the office but…”

She stopped, her eyes flitting away, as if she realized she’d said too much.

Evan pressed. “But?”

She shrugged, still not quite meeting his gaze. “Well, it is Sunday. And frankly, any business that he had to deal with could be handled from home. The office has little to offer that he doesn’t have access to at home or through the internet.” She hastened to add, “But I’m sure you could catch up with him there tomorrow.”

“You see, the thing is, this matter is somewhat urgent. Do you have a cell number for him?”

“Of course. However, I’ve been unable to reach him myself. He’s being rather…reclusive today.” Her smile was stiffer than ever.

Jake jumped in. “Do you have
any
idea as to where he might be? A bar? A club? Restaurant where he prefers to have lunch?”

“Oh, there are several. Too many to name. However, I suspect—” Once again, she clamped her mouth shut.

Evan took a chance and reached for her hand. “Please, Mrs. Ballantyne. I’m sorry to press you, but this is quite important. A woman’s life may be in danger.”

That got her attention. Her eyes flared hot. “A woman? Who?”

Evan and Jake shared a glance. “We’d really rather not say.”

“It’s Sadie, isn’t it?”

Busted. Evan was afraid there would be bad blood between the two women and that Ellen may be hesitant to help if she knew who was involved. “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“Okay, well…” She cleared her throat. “I can’t imagine that Cyril would know anything about it, but if you really feel you must talk to him then I may have an idea where he is.”

She still seemed hesitant, but Evan decided to give her time. Pushing seemed inappropriate at this point.

“He has a room downtown. He has a permanent arrangement with a downtown hotel. He rents one of their penthouse rooms. It’s his little…retreat, I suppose. I can’t imagine what he pays for it. I’m sure it’s outrageous. He doesn’t think I know about it, but…” She shrugged. “A wife has her ways.”

Evan smiled reassuringly. “Of course. Do you have the address?”

She gave them the address of one of the most posh hotels in the downtown core. Cyril certainly knew how to spend money. He obviously had a taste for it.

“Thank you. That’s very helpful.” Suddenly Evan was anxious to get moving.

“You must want to get going then. I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t see you out. The children are eager to get into the pool. It’s a lovely afternoon.”

“It certainly is.” They said their goodbyes and she called the maid to see them to the door.

As they reached the door Jake commented, “She seems like a nice lady. How does someone like that end up with a snake like Cyril?”

The door opened and they stepped outside. “I’m sure it was a very expedient match.”

“No doubt.”

They had barely stepped on to the veranda when a bit of movement caught their eyes. Both men looked up to see someone walking toward the house from the street.

“What the hell? Did Ellen call the cops on us or something?”

“If she did they sure were quick. I—” Jake stopped. “Holy shit. That’s him!”

He must have said it louder than he intended because Rufus heard it. His gaze shot to Evan’s and in it Evan could see the first hit of panic.

“Fuck!” Rufus turned and ran.

“Get him!”

The two men took off like a shot. Rufus had a good head start on them, but it quickly became apparent that he was no sprinter. In fact, his gait was a bit lopsided. He was limping, and that slowed him down considerably. He veered off the path and forced his way through a thick hedge, but was still a long way from the driveway when Jake caught up to him.

True to his rugby-wrought youth, his tackle was fierce and unrelenting.

Rufus’ screech would have made any thirteen-year-old girl proud. He tried to roll over, to fight back, but Jake had thirty pounds and years of athletic training on him. Rufus was the approximate size and shape of an Oompa Loompa. But just as Evan reached them he remembered—Rufus was in uniform and probably had a gun.

The words,
Jake, be careful!
were on the tip of Evan’s tongue when the first shot rang through the air.

Sadie groaned. The world, what little of it she could see, was gradually coming back into focus. But she couldn’t breathe! The heat of the day was building, and the air inside the trunk had turned unbearable. There was no oxygen left, and that along with the pounding in her head combined to make her stomach churn. She didn’t want to be sick. She couldn’t afford to be. She was afraid she might choke on her own vomit, and even if she survived that the stench inside the trunk would be enough to send her into a coma.

She managed to hold down her rising gorge. Barely.

At least the car had stopped. She was no longer being bumped and jostled and rammed from one side of the trunk to the other. She had bruises on her bruises, but the irony was that this was the least of her worries. The fact that they had stopped did not exactly comfort her. Rufus would be coming for her

And he would probably be coming soon.

She was drifting a little, hovering on the edge of consciousness when she heard something. A shout. It was muffled by the dense air inside the trunk and she couldn’t make out the words but there was something about that voice. Something familiar. Her ears perked up. She heard it again, and then she was sure.

She kicked at the lid of the trunk and yelled out, “Help! Jake? Evan? I’m in here!”

The sound of a gunshot sliced through her like a knife. Her breath caught and she didn’t move. The second shot seemed even louder than the first. The cry of pain, however, was strangely comforting. If they were screaming they weren’t dead. Whoever it was. She hoped to God it wasn’t Jake or Evan.

But even that small hope wasn’t enough to stave off the tears of fear and worry.

There was a prolonged silence after that and somehow she found the strength to call out again. She yelled and screamed and kicked, making as much noise as her limited oxygen supply would allow.

She was becoming lightheaded again though, the urge to vomit overwhelming. She was on the brink of succumbing when suddenly, miraculously—the trunk opened.

“Oh my God. Sadie!”

She looked up into Evan’s face, felt a wash of relief and joy along with the wash of fresh air. She sat up—and promptly threw up all over his jeans.

“Would you like an aisle seat? Or a window seat?”

Noah’s father holding hands with another man.

My father in bed with a man—and a woman.

My own mother being used and abused by the man who was once her boss.

Me in bed with Noah.

There was so much. Too much.

“Miss? Miss Martin?”

“Huh?” Rachel dragged her attention back to the attendant on the other side of the counter.

“Your seat on the plane, miss. Aisle or window?”

“Oh.” She shook her head dismissively. “It really doesn’t matter. I just want to get home.”

“Your home is here, Rachel.”

Startled by the sound of Noah’s voice, she whirled to find him standing next to her. “Noah! How did you find me?”

“Your boarding pass,” said the clerk, offering her the folder with her tickets. She smiled but urged, “There are people waiting.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry. Of course.” She moved off to the side, away from the counter and the unwanted stares of strangers.

Noah moved to take her hand but she avoided his touch, clinging instead to the small piece of carry-on luggage that she’d kept with her. Obviously distressed by her reaction, his face fell, but he led her to an alcove near one of the car rental counters.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t know how you found me but—”

“I went to the apartment and when there was no answer there or on your cell phone I called your father. So—”

“How do you have my father’s number?”