by Tawny Weber
Nicole nodded. “Robert keeps them in his safe.”
Jessie looked up at Cooper. “If we got Robert’s papers, wouldn’t they help your case?”
“Wait a minute.” Cooper ran a hand through his hair.” Slow down. What you’re suggesting is dangerous.”
“We’re already in danger, even if we go into hiding. You said yourself it’s only a matter of time before they find us. We’re not going to be safe until this organization no longer exists,” Jessie argued.
She saw the torment in his eyes. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded.
“I can’t leave.”
For what seemed an eternity she held his gaze, refusing to turn away, watching the sweep of emotions rush through him—anger, frustration, determination. She suspected he both wanted her here with him and wanted to send her away.
Finally, he turned to Nicole and said, “Do you know the combination to Robert’s safe?”
“He made me memorize it.”
Cooper paused a moment and then said, “Okay. We’ll try it. We’ll only get one shot, though.”
“What about Robert?” Jessie asked. “He’s not going to let us just walk in there and take what we want.”
“We’ll have to make sure he’s out of the house.” Again, he thought for a minute before continuing. “Nicole, do you think you could get him to meet you?”
“No—” Jessie began, but Cooper cut her off.
“She won’t really meet him. Just call and arrange it.” Then to Nicole he said, “Do you think you can convince him?”
Nicole nodded. “Yes. I’m sure of it.”
“Okay,” Cooper said. “Once he’s out of the house, I’ll take you two somewhere in the area where you’ll be relatively safe. Then I’ll move in.”
“The safest place for us is with you,” Jessie said.
“She’s right,” Nicole agreed. “Besides, I can get you in and out of the house without anybody looking twice.”
Again frustration crossed his features, but then he nodded. Evidently, he’d had to make one last attempt to send them away to safety. In the end he must have realized what Jessie already knew.
They were in this together.
Chapter 14
No one spoke as they drove back to Fort Lauderdale.
Cooper suspected both Jessie and Nicole were lost in their own fearful thoughts. As for him, he went over and over his strategy in his mind. Everything depended on them getting in and out of Whitlock’s house without being detected. Cooper had alerted Victoria, and she had several operatives in the area in case anything went wrong. But that was the only backup Cooper trusted. Without knowing who was involved in The Regimen, they couldn’t possibly contact the police. So he tried to think of every contingency, every possible way his plan could go wrong.
He knew better. Things never went as planned. As soon as you forgot that, you were in trouble. He just needed to make damn sure that no matter what happened, Jessie and Nicole made it to safety. That’s what Victoria’s people were for.
A couple of miles from the house, Cooper stopped at a small diner so Nicole could call Whitlock. As she’d promised, he seemed eager to see her, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t let someone else know about Nicole’s call. Someone like Raloose. Cooper had to trust her when she claimed her husband wouldn’t hurt her. It wasn’t easy—especially with all the evidence to the contrary.
After arranging the meeting with Whitlock, they drove toward Nicole’s house and parked a half block away from the formal entrance to the exclusive neighborhood. When Robert’s car passed them on his way to the meeting his wife wouldn’t keep, Cooper headed for the house. He pulled far up the drive, hoping the car would be less visible from the street. Within minutes, they were inside, and Nicole had shut off the alarm.
“Okay, Jess,” Cooper said. “Stay here and keep an eye out. Nicole, come with me.”
He led Nicole back to her husband’s office. They opened the door, and she immediately went to the keypad and shut off the silent alarm.
“Okay, where is the safe?” Cooper asked.
“Behind the bookcase.” She walked over and pressed a button underneath the desk. A small bookcase slid to the side, revealing a walk-in safe.
Cooper whistled softly. “Your husband doesn’t fool around.”
“He believes in getting the best.”
“Good thing he can afford it.” Cooper joined her in front of the unit. “Okay, let’s get it open.”
It took Nicole two tries to get the combination right, but finally she succeeded. Stepping inside, she retrieved a brown, nondescript accordion file. “This is it.”
Cooper took the file to the desk and glanced through the papers. It seemed to be all there, just as Nicole had claimed—names, records of meetings, decisions made. This file would put a lot of powerful people away for a very long time.
“He’s going to prison, isn’t he?” Nicole said.
Surprised, Cooper looked up to see that she’d moved over to stand near the windows, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He couldn’t lie. “Yes.”
“He thought he was doing the right thing.”
“You and I know that’s not the case.”
She turned to look at him, tears streaming down her face. “I do love him, you know.”
Cooper wished he could say something to comfort her, but the words weren’t there. Not for the likes of Robert Whitlock. “We’ve got to go, Nicole.”
“Not so fast, Cooper.”
Cooper turned toward the door and froze. Whitlock and Framen stood just inside the room. Framen held Jessie, his arm wrapped around her throat, his .357 Magnum at her temple.
“He’ll kill her,” Whitlock said, nodding toward Framen.
Nicole stepped away from the windows. “Robert, no!”
“Stay back, Nicki. I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if I have to.”
Fear and rage wrenched at Cooper’s gut. “Let her go, Whitlock.”
“I don’t think so. Not just yet.”
Cooper fought down his emotions, and a cold, deadly calm settled over him. “What are you going to do? Kill us all, your wife included?”
“Only if I have to. Now hand over the gun.”
Cooper moved his hand to his jacket.
“Careful!” Framen pressed his weapon harder against Jessie’s temple.
With deliberate slowness, Cooper withdrew his gun with two fingers and held it out. “So I was right about you, Framen. You’re Whitlock’s lapdog. And the others, the pros, they must belong to Raloose.”
“You talk too much, Cooper,” Whitlock snapped. “Drop the gun and kick it over here.”
Cooper set his gun on the floor and nudged it with his foot.
“Robert . . .” Nicole started toward her husband, but stopped abruptly when Framen took a step back, pulling Jessie with him.
“I wouldn’t, Mrs. Whitlock,” he said. “Your sister here has caused us a lot of trouble. I’d just as soon shoot her as not.”
Nicole lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. “Let her go. I’m the one you want.”
“No, Nicki . . .” Jessie said.
Framen jerked his arm against Jessie’s throat, silencing her. “Do I have to gag you, woman? Shut. Up.”
Cooper tamped down his fury. He was going to make Framen pay for hurting Jessie. Ten minutes alone with him before the cops locked him away for good was all Cooper needed.
Whitlock retrieved Cooper’s gun from the floor and backed up next to Framen. “Okay, Cooper, gather up all those papers and put them back in the file.”
With deliberate slowness, Cooper complied. “You know, you can’t get away with this.”
“Please, let’s not be trite.” Whitlock motioned toward the safe with his gun. “Toward the back wall there’s a briefcase. Get it and put it on the desk next to the file.”
As Cooper set down the briefcase, he asked, “So what’s the deal, Whitlock—you and Framen going to try and run?
”
“A man with a Swiss bank account can live anywhere.”
“Raloose may not be too happy about that.”
“He has to find me first.”
Cooper snorted in disgust. “What does a man like you know about disappearing?”
“Money will buy anything. Now, step back into the safe.” He waited until Cooper had done what he’d ordered and then nodded toward Framen. “Okay, Hal, let the girl go.”
Framen hesitated a moment, but then released Jessie.
She moved over to Cooper, and he wrapped his arms around her briefly, just long enough to know she was okay. Though he could feel her trembling, there were no tears. Again, he thought she was one of the bravest women he’d ever known.
“Okay, Nicki,” Whitlock said. “Bring me the file and the briefcase.”
Nicole moved slowly toward the desk. “Why are you doing this, Robert?”
“That should be obvious. I’ve no intention of spending the next twenty years in prison.” He paused and then said, “Come with me, Nicki.”
She stopped and faced him. “I can’t.”
Whitlock shook his head. “I’m sorry then.”
“What are you going to do with us?”
“You’ll have a short stay in the safe. It’ll be uncomfortable, but you’ll survive. As soon as I’m out of the country, I’ll call the authorities and let them know where to find you.” He nodded toward the desk. “Now bring me the briefcase and file.”
Nicole turned and picked them up, but instead of handing them to her husband, she stepped in front of Jessie and Cooper. “You’ll have to come get them.”
Whitlock’s gaze darted to Framen and then back again. “Nicole, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“All the proof you need is in this file. Turn it over to the district attorney’s office, and they’ll go easier on you.”
“Shut up,” Framen snapped. “Bring the briefcase.”
“You’ll have to shoot me.”
Cooper started to step forward to stop her. This wasn’t worth dying for. “Nicole—”
“It looks like I got here just in time.”
Cooper froze, his gaze snapping to the stranger in the doorway, while Whitlock and Framen spun around, obviously just as surprised. The stakes had just gotten higher. Cooper had no doubt about the newcomer’s identity: Virgil Raloose.
Whitlock spoke first. “Colonel, what are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you, of course.” Raloose stepped into the room and took a moment to survey its occupants. Though his stance was casual, Cooper wasn’t deceived. The man was dangerous—more dangerous than a dozen Framens or two dozen Whitlocks.
“This is quite a gathering you have here, Judge,” Raloose said and glanced toward Framen. “You have your trusty, though incompetent civil servant.” The detective’s face reddened, but Raloose ignored him. “And your lovely wife.” He turned and stepped toward Nicole. “So good to see you again, my dear.” He moved his hand to touch her face, but she jerked away from him.
He smiled, a slow, sick smile that turned Cooper’s stomach. Then Raloose shifted his malevolent gaze to Cooper and Jessie. “This must be your sister, Jessica. And the illustrious Mr. Cooper.” He stood a moment, his gaze locked with Cooper’s. “I must say you’ve given my men quite a chase.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I could use a man like you.”
“Not a chance.”
“Too bad.” Raloose turned away and walked back to the doorway, his back to the room. “Nicole, bring me the briefcase and file.”
She stiffened and stood a little straighter. “No.”
For the space of a heartbeat, silence fell over the room, as if no one dared to breathe. Then Raloose shifted his hand toward his jacket, and Cooper reacted instinctively, shoving Jessie toward the back of the safe. “Get down, Jess.”
“Have it your way,” Raloose said, and he turned, gun raised.
Cooper dove for Nicole, throwing her to the floor and rolling with her behind the desk as two shots split the air. Then he went for the Beretta on his ankle and inched around the desk.
Framen had fled and Whitlock stood over Raloose, who was lying on the floor, a bullet wound in his chest. Two quick strides and Cooper disarmed the judge, who looked up at him with a dazed expression.
“He was going to shoot her,” Whitlock said.
Cooper looked at him in disgust. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you play with guns.”
It had been four weeks since Jessie had seen Cooper. The first two she understood. The district attorney’s office had spirited her and Nicole away to yet another safe house. No one, not even Sam Cooper, was allowed near them. Finally, the indictments were handed down and members of The Regimen arrested.
Robert had been charged along with the others, but he’d agreed to become a state’s witness. That, plus the fact he’d saved Nicole’s life at the last minute, promised to help him when it came time for sentencing. Even so, he was looking at years in prison. Virgil Raloose had lived to face charges that would put him away for the rest of his life. Hal Framen had been caught within blocks of the Whitlocks’ house, and like Raloose, would spend a great deal of time behind government walls.
Finally, as the last members of The Regimen were rounded up and arrested, the two sisters were allowed to return to Nicole’s house. Jessie hung around for another couple of weeks, under the guise of offering support. In truth, she was waiting for Cooper to come for her. Or at least come and tell her goodbye.
He did neither.
As the days passed, her emotions swung from impatience to anger and settled on sadness. She couldn’t make him care for her if he didn’t. It had to be his choice. But without him, her life yawned before her long and empty. At the end of two weeks, she decided it was time to go home.
Her flight left at one. She’d gotten up early to pack, and was surprised when Victoria showed up, carrying a cup of coffee.
“Nicole sent this up,” she said, handing the cup to Jessie. “Hope you don’t mind me barging in on you like this.”
In truth, Jessie did mind. She wasn’t up to talking to anyone. Or saying goodbye. But Victoria had been kind to her. Jessie couldn’t repay her with rudeness. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee and setting it on the nightstand.
Victoria settled on the corner of the bed, eyeing Jessie’s half-filled suitcase. “I take it you’re leaving.”
“It’s time. I have a business to run. A life to get back to.” Jessie walked over to the dresser and pulled an armload of clothes from one of the drawers. “Thank you, though, for everything you’ve done.”
“Cooper did all the work.”
“Yes, well . . .” Jessie kept her eyes on her packing. “I know you helped.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Not since the night they arrested Robert.”
“Why not?”
A bit of the old anger surfaced, and she shot Victoria a withering look. “Maybe you should ask him that.”
“You love him, don’t you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Maybe you should tell him.”
“Please, Victoria.” Jessie shook her head and moved back to the dresser for more clothes. “If he’d wanted to see me, he knew where I was.”
“You’re as stubborn as he is.”
She dropped another armload of clothes in the suitcase, shoving them down to make them fit. “Leave it alone.”
“Did he ever tell you why he left the Bureau?”
Jessie sighed. “He told me he was brought up on charges of negligence.”
“Which were dropped.”
Jessie crossed her arms and glared at the other woman. “I thought you didn’t know why he left.”
“I lied.”
“Great.” Jessie slammed her suitcase shut and zipped it closed.
“The woman he was involved with—the one whose daughter they found too late—�
��
“I don’t want to hear this, Victoria.”
“She filed a complaint against Cooper.”
That stopped Jessie, and she swiveled around to look at Victoria. “She was the reason he was brought up on charges?”
“He already blamed himself. You always do when a case goes bad, but nothing he did or could have done would have changed anything. The girl had been dead for weeks before the FBI got involved. Still, when her mother accused Cooper . . .” Victoria shrugged, letting her voice trail off.
For a moment, Jessie couldn’t speak. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Everything worked out for us.”
“What if it hadn’t?”
“It wouldn’t have changed how I feel about him.”
“As I said before, have you told him that?” Victoria stood and headed for the door. “Think about it.”
Jessie collapsed on the bed. Could he possibly not know how she felt about him? Could she leave without being sure?
It had been the most miserable month of Cooper’s life.
He hadn’t minded helping the authorities with the “Regimen” case. Nor had he cared about the endless hours of searching records for more information on the organization, making sure they had all the pieces, all the players. Finding people was what he did, and he was good at it.
It was Jessie who made him miserable.
Or actually, her absence. No matter how hard he worked, how hard he drove himself, he couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. When he closed his eyes at night, he heard her voice. Sometimes he’d spot a woman with big brown eyes and remember the way Jessie had of looking him squarely in the eye, demanding to have her own way.
It was enough to drive him mad.
Shaking his head, he picked up a rag and started polishing the trim of his boat. Tomorrow would be better. He was heading out, like he’d planned before a particularly sexy woman had walked into his life. The Caribbean called to him—the wind, the sea, the freedom. At times like this, he wished he’d stayed with the SEALs, where he took orders and carried them out, where life and death seemed black or white, not these swirling mists of grays.