Midnight Run

by Linda Castillo

  The words tugged at her with unexpected force. “This isn’t the time to start second-guessing the decision we made. Okay?”

  “It’s not okay.” Cursing, he leaned back in the seat. “I’m not going to do this.”

  “Jack—”

  “I’m going in alone. I want you to drive over to the mall, turn around in the parking lot, then come back. Take your time, but don’t stop. Don’t do anything to draw attention to the Jeep. Meet me back here in twenty minutes.”

  Landis stared at him. It would have been easy to say yes. The last thing she wanted to do was walk into that building with him. But she’d never been able to take the easy way out, especially when the easy way wasn’t the right way. “No,” she said. “I’m going in, too. That was our agreement.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the agreement. It was wrong of me to involve you.”

  Turning away from him, she looked through the windshield at the building and felt her insides turn to jelly. The fear was so thick inside her, she could taste it at the back of her throat, feel it vibrate through her body with every pulse of her heart. But when she thought of Aaron Chandler, gunned down because of his legal brilliance; when she thought of Evan, whose life had been snuffed out so ruthlessly; when she thought of the man sitting next to her with his very life on the line, she suddenly realized she wanted to get her hands on whatever information Chandler had every bit as badly as Jack did.

  He reached out and brushed the backs of his knuckles against her cheek. “If anything happens, I want you to drive to Ian’s house and tell him everything.”

  “I’m going in.”

  “Come on, Red. For God’s sake, don’t get stupid on me now.”

  “You can insult me until you turn blue, but I’m going in that building with you.”

  “If things go wrong—”

  “Things aren’t going to go wrong.” She searched his face, hoping he couldn’t see the fear in hers. “Damn it, Jack, we have a plan. It’s a good one. I can help you do this.”

  “No.”

  Knowing he was willing to sacrifice his agenda to keep her safe only made her more determined to follow through. “I’ve got to do this. If not for you, then for Evan. For me.”

  Cursing, he flung open the Jeep’s door and got out. For a long minute he stood facing the wind, looking at the building hulked against the night sky. She could tell by his body language that he was angry. But she couldn’t help that. She only hoped he was able to put it aside long enough to get this done.

  “All right,” he said after a moment. “Come here.”

  Adrenaline danced in her belly as she got out of the Jeep and crossed to him. She didn’t expect him to take her hand, but was glad when he did. Sticking to the shadows, he led her at an easy jog across the parking lot toward the loading dock at the rear of the tower. At the corner of the building, they stopped. Her legs trembled, but she didn’t know if it was from the sudden exertion or the fear pumping through her.

  Jack peered around the edge of a Dumpster. “It’s clear.”

  The next thing Landis knew, she was being pulled up a concrete ramp toward a double set of scarred wooden doors. Behind them, a delivery truck’s engine rumbled. The smell of diesel fuel filled the air. Jack’s hand tightened on hers as they approached the doors. Beyond, light filtered through a single window.

  “If we run into anyone, smile.” He looked quickly from side to side. “Try to look like you know where you’re going, and we won’t be stopped. These guys are here delivering supplies and picking up recyclables.”

  “Of course they’re not going to concern themselves with an escaped con and a lawyer-turned-felon,” she muttered.

  Taking Jack’s cue, she kept her eyes straight ahead and followed him through the double doors. Despite the frigid temperature, Landis broke a sweat beneath her coat. Two men wearing coveralls and yellow work gloves maneuvered a dolly stacked with corrugated boxes. One of them looked right at her, and she smiled. He smiled back and continued down the hall without pause.

  “The freight elevator is to the right.” Jack led her around a corner where the battered doors of the freight elevator loomed into view. After punching the up button, he turned to face her. For an instant he looked like the old Jack she’d once known. He was breathing hard from the run across the parking lot. His dark hair was windblown, his eyes alight with determination. She wondered if his senses were humming as keenly as hers….

  She jolted when the elevator bell chimed. The doors slid open. Her heart skittered when Jack set his hands on her shoulders and ushered her inside. He punched the button for the eighth floor, and they began the slow ride up.

  “The suite should be deserted,” he said. “Chandler wasn’t the trusting type so he kept most of his files locked up in his office. I figure we’ll start there. But he’s also got a file room. That could take some time.”

  “What if the police confiscated your file for evidence?”

  “Proper legal channels take time.” Jack poked impatiently at the floor button. “It’ll take a couple of days for the detective assigned the case to get a warrant. Lawyers are pretty good at tying things up.”

  “Or expediting if it’s in their own best interest.” She hated to think that they’d risked so much for nothing.

  The elevator halted on the eighth floor. The doors opened to a long hall. Landis stepped out of the car and looked around. Recessed lighting cast muted light onto plush blue carpeting. Abstract paintings set into intricate gold leaf frames adorned the walls. She headed toward a particularly intriguing painting that looked startlingly like a Dali abstract. “I’ve been to art shows less interesting than this.”

  Her pulse jumped when Jack’s hand settled around her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction. “This way.”

  A moment later they were standing outside the mahogany and beveled glass doors of Chandler & Associates. Yellow crime scene tape stretched across the front like a sentinel, daring them to enter.

  “Is there an alarm?” Landis asked.

  Jack fished the key from his pocket. “Yeah, but I know the code.”

  “How?”

  “Chandler and I spent a lot of time in his office before my trial. All I had to do was watch him punch in the numbers.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “How do you know someone didn’t change the code?”

  “I don’t.” He slid the key into the lock, twisted.

  She held her breath, let it slide between her lips when no alarm came.

  Ducking under the tape, he stepped into the suite. “Piece of cake.”

  Landis followed him inside. “Good thing we had that rabbit’s foot.”

  “Keep your gloves on and don’t touch anything.” He closed the door behind them. “Chandler’s office is in the back.”

  The smells of lemon wax, paper dust and recirculated air wafted over her as they walked to the rear of the suite. The ambience of the office reminded her of her own cramped office in the Utah County courthouse, and an odd sense of homesickness swept through her. She wondered if she would get the chance to go back.

  “The door’s locked.”

  She glanced up to see Jack studying the lock on a paneled wooden door. “Can you pick the lock?” she asked.

  “I’m a cop not a burglar.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Improvise.” Taking several steps back, he gathered himself then lunged forward and landed a kick at the door. Wood splintered. The door swung open, banging hard against the wall.

  “That should alert at least one security officer,” she said.

  Giving her a dark look, Jack entered the office. “Let’s make this quick.”

  Landis followed him into the office. Even in the dim light she couldn’t help but notice the opulence of Chandler’s inner sanctum. Carved teak paneling. Exquisite paintings. Floor-to-ceiling glass comprised the east wall. In the daylight the vast span of glass wo
uld offer a stunning view of the mountains.

  Removing a small penlight from his pocket, Jack strode purposefully to the desk. Landis trailed behind him, noticing the fingerprint powder on the desktop. A chill raced through her when she recalled that Chandler had been murdered in this very office the night before. Unlike some of her counterparts, she wasn’t comfortable at crime scenes, especially violent ones. Morbid curiosity wasn’t part of her persona. Though sometimes the criminals she prosecuted were violent, the courtroom had a way of distancing one from the actual crime. There was no blood, or injuries, or death to contend with. Just facts. That was the way she preferred it.

  “Here’s the file cabinet.”

  She started at the sound of Jack’s voice. Coming up behind him, she watched him tug at the drawer. “Locked.” He rapped his hand against the lock. “Of course.”

  Anxious to get out of the office, Landis looked quickly around for a makeshift tool with which to pry open the drawer. Spotting the wood-handled umbrella next to the coat tree, she pointed and started for it. “What about that?”

  He illuminated the umbrella with his penlight. “You’re getting good at this breaking and entering stuff.”

  “Maybe it’s the company I keep.” Landis took the penlight from him and started toward the umbrella. She was halfway there when something dark on the floor gave her pause. Using the penlight, she illuminated the shadow—and everything inside her froze. Blood, she realized. A large puddle had soaked into the carpet. Flecks of it marred the lower part of the wall.

  Revulsion swept through her. She could smell the blood now, a dull, sickening odor that sent her stumbling back. “Oh, God.”

  Vaguely, she was aware of the penlight tumbling from her hand. In a small corner of her mind, she heard Jack curse. She backed away from the blood. She needed distance and fresh air. The smell… Oh, God, the smell. If she didn’t get away, she was going to be sick.

  Putting her hand over her mouth, Landis stumbled across the room. At the far wall, she set her hand against the floor-to-ceiling bookcase and leaned, taking deep breaths.

  “Easy.”

  She jolted when he set his hands on her shoulders and guided her over to the sofa near the door. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Damn it, I’m okay.” But even as she said the words a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Her face felt hot. “I just need some air.” She worked frantically at the buttons of her coat.

  “Sit.”

  She didn’t have to be told twice.

  “Are you sick?”

  Unable to speak because of the clenching in her stomach, she shook her head. “Just get what you need so we can go.”

  “Take a couple of deep breaths for me, okay?”

  Landis obeyed. Slowly, the nausea passed. She became aware of his hand at her nape, where his fingers gently massaged her tense muscles.

  “I should have realized how this would affect you,” he said.

  “God, Jack, they cut him down like an animal.” Raising her head, she looked at him. “Seeing that…what they did to him…makes this real to me. The violence of it.” She shivered. “Maybe I needed to see it.”

  “No one should ever have to see something like that.”

  “Duke has got to be stopped.”

  “You’re not going to get an argument from me.”

  Embarrassed that she’d come so close to losing it, wanting to forget the incident and get on with the task at hand, Landis rose—only to find herself standing toe to toe with him. His hands were on her shoulders. His eyes were uncomfortably direct and focused intently on her, as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His hard mouth was sculpted and pulled into a frown. His five o’clock shadow made him look dangerous in the semidarkness. And for an insane instant she found herself thinking about the mind-numbing kiss they’d shared the night before.

  She stared at him, aware of her heart beating a hundred miles an hour, her mind running a fast second. Only she knew her quickened pulse had nothing to do with what she’d seen, and everything to do with the man standing so close she could smell his masculine scent.

  “You should try listening to your instincts sometime.” His voice was slow and thick. “Might be interesting for both of us.”

  Realizing the situation was an inch away from veering into dangerous territory, she shrugged off his hands and turned away. “Let’s just get the file so we can get out of here.”

  Growling low in his throat, Jack turned away and picked up the umbrella. Wordlessly, he strode to the cabinet and drove the metal tip into the space between the drawer and the lock. Wood splintered, and the sound was as loud as a gunshot in the silence of the suite. An instant later the drawer rolled open, revealing a row of legal files. “Bingo,” Jack said.

  Landis quickly located Jack’s file, which was as thick as her arm, then began rummaging for others. “There’s nothing under Duke,” she said. “Maybe we could check the file room.”

  “Too risky. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Tucking the thick file under his arm, Jack started for the door.

  She followed him through the office and into the reception area. “No security guards in sight,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, if they decide to crash our little party, it’s every man for himself.”

  The file under Jack’s arm rustled softly as they jogged down the hall. “I can’t believe we pulled this off,” she whispered.

  “Don’t strain your arm patting yourself on the back just yet. We still have to get out of the building.”

  But Landis was on a high and barely heard the words. “It’s the first thing that’s gone right since you showed up at my door.”

  “The story of my life. Keep your voice down.”

  At the freight elevator, Jack punched the down button, looked nervously over his shoulder, then punched the button again. “Come on, damn it.”

  Landis’s mind had already jumped ahead to the file they now had in their possession when the sound of a slamming door sent her into a panic. “What was th—”

  Her words were cut short when Jack slapped his hand over her mouth. “Our worst nightmare,” he whispered and shoved her into a nearby alcove.

  Chapter 7

  J ack figured he knew better than most what it was like to be a fox faced with being ripped to shreds by the hounds or a fatal leap off a cliff. He was quickly learning he didn’t much care for the feeling.

  Next to him, Landis peeled his hand from her mouth, her back pressed against the wall and her face the color of new snow. “What do we do now?” she whispered.

  “We hide.” Clutching the file in one hand, he grasped her arm with the other and hauled her toward a restroom door. “Get inside.”

  “What about the elevator?”

  “We’re cut off. We walk back into the corridor and we’re going to have a close encounter with someone who’s probably going to know we shouldn’t be here.” He opened the door and shoved her through it. “For once in your life, don’t argue.”

  “This is the men’s room.”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “No. I mean, yes.” She bit her lip. “Jack, we’re trapped in here. We’re eight stories up. How are we going to get out?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll wait them out. Just…get in the stall, damn it. Hurry.”

  Ignoring her protests, he guided her to the last stall. “Step up on the commode.” He didn’t like bullying her, but he didn’t have time to finesse. Under the circumstances, he couldn’t think of another way to make her obey. Landis had never been one to take orders. He figured he could apologize for pushing her around later—hopefully not from the inside of a jail cell.

  He was about to go in search of the yet-to-be-identified intruder when the door to the men’s room opened. Praying the commode lid was strong enough to hold their combined weight, Jack quickly closed the stall door, set the lock and stepped up with Landis.

  Every sense on high ale
rt, he listened as the door banged shut. The intruder walked in, whistling an old rock and roll song. Jack stood perfectly still, barely breathing. Landis stood in front of him facing the same direction, her rear end snugged up against him. He could feel her trembling, hear her breaths coming short and fast.

  He put his mouth close to her ear. “Shhh.”

  Two stalls down, he heard the rustle of clothing, then the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. More whistling, then a steady stream as Mr. Zipper relieved himself.

  Holding the file with one arm, Jack wrapped the other around Landis. Just until she calmed down, he told himself. Until she stopped trembling…

  But in the next instant, the only information his brain processed was that her backside was pressed snugly against his pelvis. That she smelled like heaven. That she was warm, soft and curvy—and his body had taken notice of all those things. His blood heated and rushed directly to his groin. He desperately needed to move away from her, but couldn’t risk making any noise. Cursing silently, Jack closed his eyes and hoped Mr. Zipper didn’t linger.

  But closing his eyes only heightened his other senses. The scent of her hair reminded him of what it had been like to make love with her. Made him remember the sweetness of her kisses. The storm in her eyes right before she surrendered. How she fought to maintain her control when he was taking her apart piece by piece…

  The logical side of his brain knew that now was not the time to lose himself in the past or indulge in the sheer pleasure of holding her. But his pulse was racing. Only the pounding of blood through his veins had nothing to do with the intruder—and everything to do with the woman he held in his arms.

  The knowledge that all the old feelings were still there, that they hadn’t changed in the year he’d been locked away stunned him. Intellectually, he knew there was no future for them. His life was in shambles. In contrast, she was on her way to the top. He lived from hour to hour with little hope for a future. She had her sights set on a future that didn’t include a convicted murderer. But God help him, none of those things mattered when he was touching her….

  The sound of running water drifted through his brain. Landis was still trembling, but her breathing had slowed. Shifting slightly, Jack lowered his mouth to her ear. “Easy,” he whispered.