by Calista Fox
“Watch your heads,” cop number one directed as Kyle and I were helped into the back of the cruiser, our hands cuffed behind us.
As the officers climbed into the front, I shot my friend a look. He grinned, then grimaced. His lip and one side of his jaw were swollen, for which I felt horrible. But we’d gotten what we wanted. Safe passage into Flagstaff, where we could figure out what the hell to do from there.…
chapter 15
Yeah. Jail.
So not the place for me.
I was in with a couple of other rowdies from the music festival, a prostitute and a woman who claimed to be a meth addict and kept screaming that if she didn’t get some crystal in her soon she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. Needless to say, I didn’t dare close my eyes.
In the morning, cop number one came for me and put me in a room with Kyle. We sat opposite the officer, who pushed a file across the table and demanded, “Care to explain this?”
I stared down at a legal-looking document with “Negative” stamped across the top portion. “Neither of you were drunk last night. Not a trace of alcohol in your systems.”
Kyle and I exchanged hopeless looks. We really hadn’t thought this through. Now what?
Time to make it up as we went along. “See … it’s just that we’re, um, you know … Uh.” I wracked my brain. Then blurted, “We’re twelve-steppers!”
He gave me a blank stare. “You’re what?”
“You know, like AA,” Kyle joined in.
“Right,” I said enthusiastically, so glad we always ended up on the same mental track. “We were with our friends last night, and they just can’t handle that we don’t drink with them anymore and it makes it kind of awkward, you know? We pretended we were drunk so they wouldn’t think we were … well … lame.”
Oh, but we were. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes—at myself.
“Uh-huh,” the cop slowly said. “Twelve-steppers.”
“I deserved to be arrested for picking a fight,” Kyle confessed.
“But you didn’t take the first swing,” the officer pointed out. “Are you planning to press charges? Because we have the other guy’s name and info as well.”
Kyle pretended to debate this, then shook his head. “Nah. Bygones and all that.” I could tell it hurt to speak, but he bucked up. “Will you let us go now?”
“Yes. Go back to Sedona”—obviously the officer knew where we lived based on our IDs—“and don’t come back for a while, all right? Try to stay out of trouble. I don’t want to see you two again.”
We were given our cell phones back. I stared at mine, knowing it needed to be destroyed. Kyle turned his on, but I wouldn’t let him make a call.
I asked a desk clerk, “Would it be okay for me to use your phone? My battery’s dead and his doesn’t have much of a signal up here.”
She eyed me skeptically. We weren’t exactly in a box canyon or in the boonies, so of course he had a signal. Still, she pushed the phone my way. “Dial nine to get an outside line.”
I called the only person I could rely on at this point and very cryptically said, “Can you please pick me up at the police station in Flag?”
* * *
Mr. Conaway arrived an hour and a half later. Kyle and I settled into his Cadillac CTS, me in the front seat.
“This ought to be interesting,” my lawyer said by way of casual conversation. I didn’t miss the disapproval in his tone. Or the crinkling of his nose.
“Sorry for the stale-beer smell. We actually weren’t drinking,” I told him. “We were followed. Set up at first, then followed,” I amended.
He shot a look my way. “Tell me everything.”
I did, from start to finish. I wrapped up the eventful story right around the time we reached the scenic pull-off on the rim of the canyon. Mr. Conaway parked the car and we all got out.
“Give me your phone, please,” he said to me. I handed it over.
He checked it. My guess was he was curious about the text message and did the same thing I’d done—compare that number to the few others that had come through from Amano.
“You’ve been hacked,” he informed me, disgruntled.
“I didn’t think that was possible with a disposable phone.”
“Anything’s possible, my dear.” He handed the cell to Kyle. “Send it to the bottom of the canyon.”
Kyle climbed over the protective ledge and made his way carefully to the precipice overlooking the canyon. He stretched his throwing arm way back and hurled the phone like a pro quarterback into the gaping mouth of Oak Creek Canyon and the rapids running through it below.
My stomach tightened. My heart constricted.
There went my only connection to Dane, via Amano.
“Now yours,” Mr. Conaway told Kyle.
He flashed the older man a look over his shoulder. “I haven’t been hacked.”
“You don’t know that. And really, it’s only a matter of time.”
Kyle’s gaze flitted to me. I gave a small shrug. “Sorry?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” He chucked his as well.
We returned to the car and I tried not to agonize over how all of this changed our game. Of course Mr. Conaway would tell Dane and Amano what had happened to me and Kyle. He’d likely already been on the phone to Amano. If my former bodyguard wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere.
I shuddered. Then asked, “Are you sure Amano’s okay? No one had a gun to his head when that text came my way?”
“He’s perfectly fine. I spoke briefly with him on the drive up. He’s destroyed his cell as well.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that he was alive—and not tied up somewhere.
Kyle chimed in, “Any idea who lured Ari to the house?”
“Not as of yet. However,” my lawyer said to me, “you won’t be returning anytime soon.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then gazed at Mr. Conaway. “Dane can’t—won’t—come to the retreat, for fear someone will tail him and we’ll put everyone in jeopardy. The creek house is the only place we can meet, the only—”
“Actually, it’s not.” He didn’t elaborate.
Great. More secrets.
I slumped against my seat, exhausted.
Closing my eyes, I was out in an instant. Didn’t wake until Kyle’s voice cut into my subconscious as he said, “You missed the turn to the retreat.”
“Neither of you are going back there right now.”
My eyelids fluttered open. My head rolled on the rest and I gazed at Mr. Conaway as I asked, “Where else would we go?”
“You remember the house where Vale held you hostage?”
My stomach lurched. “Absolutely not!” I declared, alarmed. “I am not going back there!”
“Relax, Ari,” he said. “Please. Trust me. It’s not the same. That house is … gone.”
“Gone?” My brow crooked.
“Yes. There was all that blood, remember? From what Vale did to you. From what Dane did to him.” I’d also gotten in my own solid blow to Vale’s head, initially. When I’d tried to escape.
Mr. Conaway continued. “It seeped into the wood. We couldn’t clean it all, so I offered the owner cash—twice the amount he’d paid the year before for the property.”
I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
He said, “Dane had the house mowed down. Even the foundation was ripped out. He started from scratch. The new manor is finished. Amano just recently approved the video and high-voltage security system.”
I gaped.
From the backseat, Kyle tentatively ventured, “High-voltage?”
“Yes. Don’t touch any of the wiring that tops the twelve-foot walls around the perimeter and you’ll be just fine.”
I couldn’t help but snicker. My very formal lawyer had a sense of humor.
He added, “This is a better alternative than the retreat. And, obviously, the creek house has been compromised as a meeting place.”
“Damn,” I said. “I
love that house.”
“You can go back to it when this is all over.”
“And when, exactly, do you think that might be?” Kyle inquired in a sharp tone.
“Hey.” I didn’t want him taking out his gritchy mood on Mr. Conaway. He could save it for me. “Let’s be thankful we have someplace to go.”
Regardless, Mr. Conaway spared a glance at Kyle in the rearview mirror and said, “I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that question. But Dane and Amano—and others—are doing everything they can to bring this to a successful resolution.”
Kyle grumbled under his breath. I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t know what else to say at this point, anyway.
We drove through Sedona and headed west toward the outskirts of town, then north again. The long road led to 10,000 Lux. I’d not been out this way since the day that bomb blew the resort sky-high, three months ago. We weren’t traveling directly to the Lux, however.
Several miles before the decimated hotel, we reached the patch of asphalt with the familiar, though faded, tire marks of the F5 used to kidnap me veering into a narrow opening of a red-dirt road. I prayed Mr. Conaway was right about the new abode. Not just that the security was top-notch but also that the entire property looked nothing like it had previously.
I’d had too many nightmares that had taken place in the partially constructed house to try to sleep in it.
We wove through the sycamores and brush, farther back toward the wall of the canyon.
A thought occurred to me. “There’s no cell service here.”
“You won’t need cell service. There’s a landline. And Amano will be with you from now on.”
That provided a huge amount of relief. Except for one thing. “Doesn’t Dane need him? Shouldn’t he be protecting Dane?”
“Dane has the FBI. You have no one.”
“I beg to fucking differ,” Kyle spat out.
Mr. Conaway grinned contritely. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Kyle. You and Ari have worked quite well together. I was referring to Amano’s skill with security measures, monitoring, tracking, and the like.”
“And the fact that he could kill King Kong with his bare hands,” I added. “At least, that’s what I think.”
Kyle harrumphed. “Yeah, but can he take a punch from someone a foot taller than him?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You baited well and received well. Seriously, you should have picked on someone your own size.”
“Had to go for the gold,” Kyle said, his chest puffing out a bit.
“And it saved our asses.” No denying it.
We approached the property and everyone fell silent. Property was actually the wrong word in so many ways. Fortress was more like it.
The smooth terra-cotta walls were, indeed, topped with wiring. The large, circular barbed type you might see at correctional facilities. Or … surrounding a prison. The entrance was a solid gate. Not offering even the slightest glimpse of what lie beyond.
“Is that a … guard tower?” Kyle asked as he leaned forward and peered through the front window.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Mr. Conaway spoke so calmly, this seemed like an everyday occurrence for him. “The manor sits on ten acres, all under constant observation. Patrolled twenty-four-seven. The interior is monitored as well.”
Not the bedroom, I hoped.…
“In addition,” Mr. Conaway said, “there are only three people allowed through this gate, aside from Dane and Amano—and security, obviously. We’re it.”
The gate slowly slid open and we passed through. The dirt path turned into a rustic yet elegant cobblestone drive that circled around an enormous fountain. We parked under the fancy porte cochere. The landscaping was lush and manicured, with striking bougainvillea in purple and fuchsia accented by vibrant leaves.
A long, deep patio ran the width of the main portion of the house, with trimmed pillars and archways. There was a wing on each side of the primary living space that sat at a slight angle—likely where the bedrooms and studies were housed.
This was definitely not the same place I’d been held captive six months ago.
The Mediterranean style was gorgeous and inviting. As we entered, I was stunned into silence. It was open and vast, with tons of tall, arched windows, warm hues, indoor/outdoor seating, alcoves, fireplaces, rich wood accents, plenty of gorgeous plants, and soft, glowing lights.
“Wow.” Kyle let out a low whistle. “Nice digs.”
Mr. Conaway showed us around the estate. There were seven bedrooms and ten bathrooms. An indoor pool and spa, and outdoor ones as well. A gourmet kitchen both Kyle and I salivated over. Formal and informal dining areas, a library, theater and fitness rooms, and so much more.
“It’s like a mini Lux,” Kyle said.
My stomach roiled as I thought of the devastation just a few miles down the road. “Let’s not call it that.”
“Well, there’s a pool table, video games, and a shitload of other things to do,” Kyle mused. “Something tells me we won’t be too bored with no cell phones, apps, or Internet.”
There was no Wi-Fi, but I knew it was better this way.
Though one distressing thought did pop into my head. “What about my dad?” I asked Mr. Conaway. “He can visit, right?”
“Oh, that.” He gave me a placating smile. “Your father won a two-week first-class trip to the private Augusta National Golf Club. You should give him a call. I’m sure he was very excited when the package was offered to him.”
It took a few seconds to process what he’d said. “You arranged for my father to play the club where the Masters are held?”
“Yes. The club’s GM called him personally.”
My dad had not made it that far in his professional career. This was … over-the-top.
Even Kyle appeared taken aback. “Unbelievable.”
“So,” Mr. Conaway mused. “He’ll be enjoying himself and will, of course, be well looked after.”
I blanched. “You don’t believe—”
“No, absolutely not.” The lawyer quickly picked up on my line of thinking. “He’s perfectly safe, Ari. Kyle would have been as well, if you two hadn’t shown up at the creek house together. Therefore, the most important thing now is to sit tight while Dane finishes his work. Amano should be here in four or five hours. He booked a flight as soon as we hung up.”
“From where?” Kyle wanted to know.
I sighed.
Mr. Conaway told him, “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“This is really crazy and … whacked,” Kyle announced. “I’m not the only one who realizes that, right?”
My heart twisted. “It is, yes. But there’s nothing we can do about it, except…” I spread my arms wide. “Enjoy the estate.”
He glared at me.
“Or skulk about,” I mumbled.
Mr. Conaway said, “I’ll have Eleanor buy you clothes and I’ll bring them over this evening.”
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”
He smiled. Patted my hand. “This is hardly your doing, Ari. And yet … you have a very interesting outlook on all of this.”
“I knew what I was getting into from almost the beginning,” I admitted. “Dane never once lied to me. Well … other than some farce about beavers chewing through wires at the Lux when the security system went down.” I’d meant that statement as a joke, but something about it lodged in my brain. “Anyway, thankfully we’re safe again.” I eyed Kyle. He merely shrugged.
Mr. Conaway left us to a fully stocked kitchen and wet bar. Kyle offered to make omelets and I jumped in the shower in a master suite—there was one in each wing. My selection looked out onto the pool area, with a breathtaking rock-trimmed waterfall and a huge hammered-bronze cauldron-style fire pit.
I wrapped a plush robe around my naked body and joined Kyle.
“I’ll get the plates and silverware so you can shower,” I told him. “Take the other master suite.”<
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When he returned, we settled at the kitchen island. We didn’t have much to say over breakfast. The past twenty-four hours had been a bit surreal for him. Unfortunately, not so much for me. Terrifying, sure. But not exactly out of the ordinary these days.
As I rinsed the dishes and put them in the washer, Kyle finally spoke.
“Aren’t you worried about the baby, Ari?”
I glanced at him, also dressed in a robe. “Of course I am. Dane doesn’t know I’m pregnant yet, though, and I intend to keep it that way a little while longer. Until it’s absolutely evident I haven’t just gained a few pounds.” I’d packed on some weight, but it was evenly distributed over my body, making even the tiniest hint of a baby bump just seem like I should spend a couple of hours in the gym every week. Or cut back on the oatmeal and breakfast potatoes.
Kyle lifted the towel I’d left on the counter after drying my hands and he snapped it absently, restlessly, against the marble. “Why haven’t you told him?”
“Because he has extremely important work to do. And he’d stop if he knew about the baby. In fact … I’m afraid this latest episode is going to have him second-guessing what he’s doing.”
“It should.”
“No, it shouldn’t.” I placed a hand on Kyle’s arm. “You heard what I told Mr. Conaway. I knew going in that this would not be a normal relationship, that my life with Dane would not be normal.”
“Or safe.”
“He’s doing his best. So is Amano. If it were any other caliber of people they were dealing with, my safety wouldn’t be an issue at all. But these guys … Christ.” I moved around to the upholstered stools at the island and slid onto one. “It’s like they’re everywhere at the same time. I don’t get it. And it’s downright eerie.”
Nerve-wracking, too.
Kyle said, “You really don’t have to be a part of this, Ari.”
“Yes. I do. I’m Dane’s wife. I’m about to be the mother of his child. And you can’t deny that he, Amano, and Mr. Conaway have done everything in their power to keep us all out of harm’s way when it comes to the corrupt members of the society. But Jesus. They’re like cockroaches or something. They seem to multiply instead of go away.”
“This is such bullshit.”