by Tami Lund
As far as relationship-ending words, they were plenty straightforward enough. No explanation, though. Nothing along the lines of “I’m sorry I lied to you for our entire relationship. I’m sorry I trusted my fear of my ex over your expertise and experience at keeping people safe.”
He scowled at the phone and then flipped it over and laid it on the desk. Fine, she wanted to end things, he’d let her go without a fight. What would he be fighting for anyway? Hell, he didn’t even know the woman. Not really.
Okay, that was a lie, since he’d spent the entire day digging up dirt on her. His obsessiveness over wanting answers had given him plenty of information. None of it was truly bad, though, and to be honest, the more he read, the more he felt sorry for her.
No, he didn’t. She’d still lied to him. They’d reached a pivotal point in their relationship. People who were in this significant of a relationship weren’t supposed to lie to each other.
She should have trusted him to keep her safe. Hell, he could have tried to get her into Witness Protection, not that he had that much clout. But he could have tried. He could have figured out some way to protect her from the dangerous man she’d married and then divorced. RJ could have been there for her.
Now he didn’t have to worry about it, did he? She was out of his life officially, as of that text, apparently.
He picked up the phone and stared at the message.
Why? Why was she breaking up with him? She had no idea he’d learned about her lies; she couldn’t have. The only people who knew at this point were RJ and Pete, and Pete didn’t know why he’d been snooping around, checking out the shit that went down in Detroit two years ago.
So what happened to cause her to send him the dreaded breakup text?
She and her entourage had obviously moved to New Hampshire to hide from Gino Sarvilli. Interesting that Sarvilli’s brother had come with his ex-wife, yet they weren’t an item. Maybe instead of running away to Mexico to be a bartender like Pete had suggested, Antonio figured Margot was his next gravy train. Gino’s money had disappeared, and according to what RJ read, he swore he had no idea where it was. Well, he claimed it didn’t exist, of course, but speculation was he truly didn’t know what happened to it.
Somebody knew where that money was, and RJ’s bet was on the ex-wife.
He didn’t know how Phoebe fit into the mix. Maybe she and Antonio had been dating at the time and she’d gone with them rather than live without her true love. Maybe it was her who’d left everything behind, instead of Antonio, like RJ had originally thought.
He placed the phone on the desk again. Face up this time. And then he watched as the screen slowly went black, the text disappearing from view.
Why? Hell, he wasn’t even curious why Margot fled to New Hampshire; he was pretty sure he knew that answer.
Why was she breaking up with him? Why now?
This didn’t feel like a coincidence, yet there was no way she knew he’d discovered her deep, dark secret.
So why was she doing it?
It didn’t make sense. From her point of view, everything was hunky dory. She’d met his parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, a few cousins, and she’d fit in; hell, she knew his given name.
And she’d smiled the entire time. That gorgeous, bright, heart-melting smile he loved to see on her face. She had enjoyed herself, damn it. She insisted she adored his family.
They told their kids they were dating. The girls had been ecstatic. He wouldn’t be surprised if they started planning the damn wedding when they met up at school on Monday.
So why now? And why so bland? Margot struck him as someone who would provide a reason for her decisions.
Of course, that was the Margot he thought he knew. He had no idea how much of the person he’d fallen in love with was the real her and what was the façade she’d created when she ran away from her past.
“Damn it.” He smacked his hand onto the desk, making the phone dance, before sweeping it up and stuffing it into his pocket as he strode from the station.
He had to know why.
He deserved that much, at least, didn’t he?
When he arrived at the Swanson—no, Sarvilli—home, it was a flurry of activity. Every light was ablaze. The garage was open, two vehicles sat at the curb, and suitcases and boxes were piled on the cement floor.
And there was an RV parked in front of the driveway.
So that’s why she sent the text. She was running away.
Son of a bitch.
He pulled up behind the Winnebago, leaped out of his car and hurried into the garage. Antonio, carrying two cardboard boxes, nearly mowed him down.
“What are you doing here?” Antonio asked while placing the boxes on the ground.
“Looking for Margot. Who’s moving?” Maybe it wasn’t what RJ suspected. Maybe Antonio and Phoebe had—abruptly—decided to get their own place.
“All of us. I thought she sent you a text. She’s moving on.”
“Literally, apparently.” RJ strode toward the door leading into the house but halted when Margot stepped into view, a giant duffle in one hand, the other dragging a wheeled suitcase.
His heart rate kicked up a few notches, and he suddenly couldn’t quite catch his breath. No. Don’t leave me.
She paused and straightened, releasing her hold on the bags. “RJ.” She whispered his name, her eyes wide, and he could see the vein in her neck pounding at an accelerated rate. She wasn’t wearing the stretchy, red, wrap-around dress she’d teased him about just the day before. The one he’d been imagining peeling off of her. Instead, she wore gym shorts and a T-shirt, her hair piled haphazardly on top of her head.
“I thought you broke up with him,” Antonio said from behind RJ.
“I did,” Margot said, her voice still a whisper.
“Clearly you need practice at scaring guys off,” Antonio said, and then he turned his body sideways and slipped into the house and disappeared around the corner.
“What’s going on, Margot?”
Her gaze darted around like a cornered animal’s.
He stepped into her space until she stumbled backward into the house. A quick glance around confirmed what he’d already deduced. All the big furniture was still in place, but the pictures, the bric-a-brac, Nina’s artwork that had been stuck to the fridge with magnets—it was all gone. Packed away in those boxes sitting out in the garage, no doubt.
Damn, they moved fast. Like they’d feared this day. Or planned for it.
“It looks like you’re leaving.” Me. “Are you?”
She swallowed several times without looking at him and then whispered, “Yes.” Before he could open his mouth, she added, “We have no choice. We have to get out of here. It’s for the best. For all of us.”
“For you and your sister and brother-in-law?”
Her eyes widened. He shook his head. “I know Phoebe’s not your sister.”
Antonio reappeared, carrying another stack of boxes. “You told him Phoebe was your sister?”
“I…I…” Margot stuttered and then sucked in a breath. “It wasn’t—I didn’t do it on purpose. I was trying to make sure he didn’t connect you and I.”
“How so?” RJ asked. Oh Lord, she wasn’t about to tell him this was some fucked up ménage living situation, was she?
She flapped her hand at RJ. “You said Nina kind of resembled Antonio. And I got scared. You don’t understand, RJ. You can’t possibly—”
“I know your ex-husband is Gino Sarvilli.”
Her eyes went so wide they took up half her face.
“Apparently, he can understand,” Antonio quipped, but he quickly sobered. “Shit. He’s a fucking cop.”
“Not just a cop,” Margot said. “He used to be FBI.”
“Oh crap,” Antonio said. “I figured we’d be okay since he was just a small-town detective.”
“Even small-town detectives know what the hell they’re doing,” RJ snapped. And then his gaze landed on the office off of t
he foyer, the one Antonio had stepped out of the day he’d met Margot and family. The desk was still there, facing the window, but there were no papers, no computer, no indication anyone had used that room recently.
One more piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
“You,” he said, pointing at Antonio. “It was you. I thought Margot stole the money and disappeared, but it was you. You’re a financial planner. How did I miss that?”
“Because you weren’t looking?” Antonio suggested.
RJ scowled. “Don’t crack jokes. This is serious.”
“No shit,” Antonio said, and then he pointed at the open door leading to the garage. “I’m going to start putting stuff in the RV while you two say your farewells.” He strode away.
“He was obviously on the inside of his brother’s operation,” RJ finally said, his mind racing, connecting the dots. “How else would he be able to get to the money?”
Margot wrung her hands like they were a cloth and she needed to squeeze every drop of water from the fibers. “I can’t tell you. It could implicate him.”
Hell yeah, it could. And then what the hell would RJ do? Regardless of how he felt about Margot, he was a cop. His job was to protect the innocent, take down the guilty. It was black and white. It’d always been black and white.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Okay, let’s try a different approach. Why are you leaving?”
Her gaze went to the garage door, which led, theoretically, to her freedom. “We have to.”
“Why?”
“You don’t understand. He—Gino—my ex-husband, he’s a very dangerous man. None of us are safe. Even you, if he figures out you and I have been seeing each other.”
“I’ve spent all day today researching. Your life, your ex’s, the kidnapping, his arrest. He’s in prison. Not to mention, Antonio stole all his money, and criminals like Gino Sarvilli can’t function without a strong financial backing.”
“He found us. He knows where we are. We have to run.”
“How? He’s in prison.”
She shook her head. “He was released on Friday.”
“Shit. Okay, that’s bad, but still, how do you know he found you?”
There was that cornered animal look again. And, damn it, he wanted to comfort her, reassure her he would protect her.
Except she didn’t want his protection. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have lied to him.
“From everything I read today,” he added, “all of you—you, Nina, Phoebe, and Antonio—disappeared off the face of the earth two years ago. There’s no trail.”
Antonio walked back into the house. “There’s always a trail, no matter how good you are,” he said with a swift glance at Margot. “And that’s why we have to leave. Do you really want to know all this? Because it’s going to fuck with your head and will likely tarnish whatever you think you feel for Margot.”
Goddamn it, did he? He already knew far more than he wanted to, from the newspaper accounts and his buddy’s recollection. Was there more?
Did it matter?
He stared at Margot. She sniffled, and he clenched his fists to keep from pulling her into his arms.
“I figured out how to move all of Gino’s money,” Antonio said. “Did you read the reports? Did they say he literally had nothing on the day they arrested him?”
RJ nodded. “That’s partially why they couldn’t pin any of the murders on him. No witnesses, no weapons, no blood money.”
“Antonio had nothing to do with the murders,” Margot piped up.
“Except laundering the money.”
She glanced at Antonio, who shrugged.
“When did it start?” RJ asked. He didn’t want to know, yet the questions kept rolling off his tongue.
Antonio lifted his shoulders again, appearing nonchalant, but RJ saw the flash of pain in his eyes. And maybe regret.
Phoebe hurried over from the other side of the kitchen and slid her hand into Antonio’s. The love was practically overflowing in her eyes as she looked at her husband. He wasn’t sure how she’d come into the picture, but it was clear she knew all about Antonio and Margot’s past.
“I’ve always had a knack for numbers, math. Gino was one of the worst bullies I’ve ever come across in my life, and he wanted me to help him make money too. I did what he said because I didn’t think I had a choice.”
“I can see that. But at some point…”
Antonio scowled. “There is no ‘at some point.’ I had no idea whether dry cleaning actually made that much income. But, yeah, eventually I did realize what was going on. And yeah, I buried my head in the sand. So I guess I am just as guilty as him.”
“No, you’re not,” Margot protested.
“He’s not,” Phoebe echoed.
Margot’s eyes narrowed on RJ. “What you don’t seem to understand is that Gino controls everything. He is the Detroit mafia. And you don’t leave the mafia until you die.”
“But you did,” RJ pointed out.
She sighed. “Two years ago, Gino got upset because I went out on a date.”
Antonio snorted. “Could you imagine if he knew you were screwing a cop?”
“We aren’t just screwing,” RJ said through clenched teeth.
“I shouldn’t have listened to you and Phoebe when you encouraged me to go out with RJ,” Margot said, shifting her glare to Antonio.
“What you should have done was told me what was going on,” RJ snapped.
Her laugh was hollow. “Are you kidding? RJ, I’ve not breathed a word of what happened before we moved here to anyone except Phoebe and Antonio. And you’re a cop. Why in the world would I tell you?”
“Because I can protect you.” He jammed his thumb at his chest. “That’s my job.”
“And you can also put us all in jail.”
“That’s not how it—”
“We aren’t innocent. We broke the law too. We stole Gino’s money. We have fake IDs. We walked away from our lives without clearing our debts or paying taxes. We didn’t cooperate with the police.”
“According to what I read, you gave the cops a taped confession.”
“Yeah, and then I disappeared before I could testify. It was all deliberate. I told them what they needed to hear so I could ensure my daughter and my friends”—she waved at Antonio and Phoebe—“were safe. And then we disappeared, to make sure we stay that way. Which is exactly what we’re going to do again, tonight.”
RJ raked his hand through his hair again. Shit. This wasn’t black and white at all, and he didn’t like this conflict twisting him up on the inside. Protect the girl. Follow the law. Protect the girl…
“Why? Why are you running again?” He paused. “Is it me?”
Margot shook her head. “It’s the money.” She glanced at Antonio and then stared RJ in the eye.
“It’s gone.”
8
Run, Rabbit, Run
She couldn’t take the silence anymore. Not that it really was silent. The house was actually quite noisy, with the door to the garage wide open so that the sounds of Antonio and Phoebe organizing the boxes they planned to take with them drifting inside. At least the sound of Nina’s sobs had subsided. They’d started several hours ago, when Margot told her they had to leave. She’d run up to her bedroom and slammed the door and refused to talk to any of them after that.
“I’m sorry,” Margot whispered. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d never gotten involved with you.”
“Is that what you wish?”
Her lips lifted into a humorless smile. “Not at all. But wishes are pointless. They don’t come true.”
“You got one wish. You wanted to be free of your ex, and you guys figured it out.”
“No, we didn’t. We put off the inevitable. That’s all we’ll ever do. We will run for the rest of our lives.”
He opened his mouth, and she shook her head.
“Don’t offer to help. I know that’s what you’re thinking. You can’t.”
“Yes
, I—”
“We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”
She paused to swipe at the tears leaking from her eyes.
“You are a wonderful person, RJ. A fantastic human being. I’m so proud of you, which I know sounds weird, but from my perspective, it’s really not. You made all the right choices in your life. I wish I could say the same.”
She sniffled, waiting for him to turn around and walk away. Out of her life. Forever.
“Not all the right choices,” RJ finally said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at some point over her head. “I married Jessica when it should have been you.”
Margot pushed her fist against her mouth to stifle the sob, even as she shook her head. “I’m a mistake, too.” She waved her other hand in an arch. “Look at all the baggage I have.”
His gaze settled on her face, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. What did she want him to think? What did she expect from him? Truthfully, she was surprised he hadn’t started waving his badge and telling them to pile into the back of his police car. He was a cop, and a good man. One who always functioned on the right side of the law.
“Did you know who your ex was when you met him?” he asked.
She shook her head. The memories were as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday instead of nearly a decade ago.
“I met him at this Italian restaurant. I was having drinks at the bar with a couple of girlfriends. When I looked up, he was staring at me.”
She sucked in a breath, exhaled slowly.
“He was attractive, although it wasn’t anything earth-shattering.” She glanced at RJ through her lashes. “Not like when I met you.”
It was endearing how his cheeks grew dusky when she said that. And heartbreaking. She cleared her throat.
“Apparently, he liked what he saw, though, and he pretty much became obsessed with me. Now that I know what I do, I believe he had been on the lookout for a beard, someone who would publicly look good on his arm.
“We talked for only a few minutes, but it was enough for him to find out where I worked. The next week, he sent me flowers, every single day. These massive, extravagant bouquets. All the girls in the office were swooning over them.