Jeff set the items on the table, then walked toward the cabinets she’d just scavenged. He came back with two plates and two sets of utensils. Maybe she did have a chance of seducing him. At least he’d been treating her well.
Irene picked up a serving spoon and ladled salad onto her plate. Even if she wasn’t eating healthy, she loved salad, and she was in desperate need of something other than the protein bars she’d basically lived on the last couple days.
She started to scoop up a spoonful for Jeff, but he stopped her. “Cal may not be hungry, so let him serve himself.”
She stared down at the other place setting. “You’re not eating?”
He nearly choked on a laugh. “Umm … no. Don’t think Cal would like that.”
The door opened and closed, then the sound of creaks and cracks filtered from the stairwell as someone else joined them.
Cal stepped into the light and clapped his hands. “Perfect. Dish some of Jeff’s lasagna out for me, would you, dear?” Cal motioned for Jeff to join him as he walked back to the steps. Cal whispered something, but Irene heard nothing but psst, psst, psst …
Maybe I need to get my hearing checked.
Heavy footsteps took to the stairs again, and Irene knew immediately she’d be dining alone with Cal. Why did that bother her so much?
She was certain Cal didn’t keep Jeff around for his stimulating conversation, as Jeff came off as more of a laid-back country boy. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy talking with Jeff, but Cal came off as a wannabe celebrity, so she doubted he shared his plans with his hired muscle.
Cal approached again, a wide bright smile lifting his face. He rubbed his hands together, then pulled out the chair. “What a find Jeff is! He can scare the crap out of anyone we do business with, and he’s also a great cook.” Cal took a bite, chewed, then stood. “This calls for a bottle of … Hmm …” He turned back to look at her. “Maybe a full-bodied red? What do you suggest?”
Irene shrugged.
“Ahhh,” he said as he chose a bottle. “Not too expensive for my unscheduled houseguest and yet a perfect choice.” He dug in the kitchen drawers and came out with a corkscrew. She was glad that she hadn’t chosen the twisty metal contraption as a second weapon. She’d thought about it. Held it in her hands for all of two seconds, but then decided it was useless as a weapon.
Cal pulled two wineglasses from the upper cabinet, then carried the items back to the table, setting one in front of each of their plates. “Donnafugata 'Mille e Una Notte' Contessa Entellina,” he said in what sounded like perfect Italian as he held up the bottle for her inspection.
Her ex was the one who’d ordered wine at restaurants, who’d enjoyed the show and sampling. Even when she’d gone to Napa with him, she simply followed his lead and sipped. All she cared about was how the wine tasted and how well it swept away her cares of the world.
Cal uncorked the bottle, poured a couple ounces in her glass, then stood back.
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she remembered her earlier promise not to overreact or be stupid. Cal was obviously putting on a show. Maybe he was interested in her after all. Not that she would allow him to touch her without stabbing him in the groin, but a little harmless flirting couldn’t hurt.
She lifted the glass, swirled the liquid. She knew squat about good wine, other than how it tasted, so instead of trying to figure out if it had great legs — as her ex had always looked for — she lifted it to her lips and tasted the dark red liquid. No surprise, the wine was delicious.
She smiled up at Cal. “It’s very good.”
“The 2014 vintage is terrific.” He’d emphasized the word terrific, so apparently her use of the words very good wasn’t showing the proper amount of gratitude that an unscheduled houseguest should.
She blinked a couple times, not enough to make it look like she was flirting. “I’m afraid I’m not that educated on wine.”
He filled her glass, then his, and sat again. “But you know a lot of other things, don’t you, Irene Rose?”
Irene did her best not to gulp or fidget. Instead, she shrugged off his question, which was really a statement. He’d obviously done some checking up on her. “Not anymore.”
Cal’s lips turned up for a brief second. “Hmm … yeah, I read something about that. That you took a leave of absence. That was about a year ago, right?”
Her mouth dry, she simply nodded and picked up her glass.
“But those highfalutin people you work for are still your friends. I’m sure if you brought them a big enough scoop, they’d be all over it.”
Irene bristled. “I’m the one who brought the news and delivered it. I didn’t ask someone to find or report my news. I found the interesting stories, then I shared them with my viewers.”
Cal’s lips turned up for real this time. “I bet you did, Victress.” He picked up his fork and dug back in. He lifted his hand in front of his mouth. “So, what happened? You were on top, the queen in your field.” He leaned over the table, smiled a closed-mouth smile. “Hell, some would say you were better than the men who dominate your field.”
“I am better.” Irene followed his lead and started eating. She lifted her hand to cover the bite she’d just taken. No sense in grossing him out since he had good table manners anyway. “I got burnt out.”
He nodded and chewed. “So, not looking for your big break? A chance to get back in the game?”
She set down her fork and stared at him. “You know, I’m not sure what answer would seal my fate faster, so I’m going to stick with the truth.” She dabbed at her mouth. “As much as you might be big news here, Cal, in Alaska. Believe me, San Francisco — most of the United States, for that matter — won’t give two hoots about a meth dealer from Falcon Run, Alaska. So, if you’re thinking I need to crawl back to my editor with a hot news alert, you’re wrong. Of course, I’m hoping that’s what you want to hear.”
Cal downed another forkful of lasagna and followed it up with a hefty swig of the dark red wine. “That is what I want to hear. Although, you could have let me down a bit softer, especially since I opened an eighty-dollar bottle of wine.”
She stared at the glass. “Really? See, I don’t know anything about wine other than it goes straight to my head.” She added a soft giggle for good measure.
“Clearly …” He shook his head instead of continuing.
She could deduce his unspoken words, though. She’d just offended a cold-hearted killer. Smart, Irene. Really smart.
Then again, Cal was here, eating delicious Italian food and drinking expensive wine with her, and staring at her as if she held some magical key. He could have just tossed a peanut butter sandwich down the stairwell if he only wanted her as a hostage. Clearly, he wanted something from her. Or maybe, he just wanted companionship. It couldn’t be easy trusting women with what you do for a living when you deal drugs and murder your employees.
“Cal …” she drew out his name a couple seconds. “I walked away from my job for a reason … several reasons actually. No matter where I wanted to go in the world, I would have had to deal with …” she trailed off. She wanted to give him a good enough excuse without telling him the truth. She also wanted to connect with him, even if her reasons for hiding weren’t the same as his. “Well, let’s just say I suffered some extremely personal issues I’d rather not share with you — or my entire viewing audience, for that matter.”
The ruthless murderer wiggled in his chair like one of her male BFFs in San Fran. “Do tell. I love a good piece of gossip. You know, growing up in such a small town and all. You’d be surprised how easily people hide their dirty laundry around here.”
She couldn’t resist, and she assumed he was proud of hiding in plain sight, so she offered, “Like being a drug dealer?”
He threw his head back. “Touché! Woman, no wonder you climbed to the top. You’re not afraid of stepping on a man’s balls to move up a rung. No wonder Alex fell for you. You’re probably the only woman who’s never taken his
crap.”
Fell for me … How did Cal know Alex had fallen for her? She’d called Alex a surly pilot earlier. Had Cal been thinking she was talking about Kevin?
Cal stopped laughing, his head cocking to the side. “You didn’t know Alex was in love with you?” he asked in that sickeningly soft voice again. “Well, I’d love to burst Alex’s bubble if you don’t feel the same way, but the thing is … I need him to care about you, Irene. I need him to be willing to die for you. Nothing like love to provide leverage. Like my man Jeff.” Cal waved his hand toward the upstairs portion of the house. “Threaten to cut one insignificant little pinky finger off his woman and he’s all gung-ho to pay off her debt. Hell, I’m pretty sure he’ll continue on even after his debt is paid.”
Irene gulped but held her posture and composure. She’d seen worse than Cal. She just never had to dine with the brutes she wrote about. While she’d gone undercover numerous times, she never infiltrated any of the rings she’d broken up; she just observed from a distance.
Cal reached across the table and stroked her hand. “Don’t worry, Victress. I have much larger plans for you, so I wouldn’t think of disfiguring these beauties.”
Chapter 20
~ Alex ~
Alex closed out the web browser he’d been using and plugged in the phone.
“Damn …” He ran his hands through his hair. If Cal found out who Irene was, how would he ever let her go?
Vince looked up from the game he was playing on his phone. He’d turned off the noise when Alex had asked him, but he’d still been noisily tapping the keys. Not that there was much else for them to do for several hours as they awaited, so Alex couldn’t begrudge him filling his time.
Erik had stretched out in the back seat of the truck and was now snoring.
Vince finished whatever he’d been doing and turned his phone over. “What’d you find out?”
“Irene’s more than just a reporter …” He shook his head, feeling like a total idiot. She earned more in a year than he’d made in his entire life. No wonder she’d been so upset and confused about his stupid plan. She obviously couldn’t comprehend needing two-million dollars when she was worth ten times that much. “She’s flipping famous. She’s worked as a columnist for New York magazines, appears regularly on Fox and CNN, and personally knows the POTUS.”
Vince laughed. “You and Sam need to get out more. Both of you have your heads in the Denali cloud cover.”
Alex turned to his brother and somehow resisted snapping. “Did you know who she is?”
“’Course I did. What else do I have to do on the boat all day other than read.”
Erik mumbled beneath his arm. “Can’t believe you never heard of Irene Rose.”
“Whatever.” Alex banged his head against the headrest. “Think! If not reporters, who?”
“Why change the plan?” Vince said. “I think it’ll work. Maybe even better now that it’s clear the editor at the station knows who Irene is.”
Alex flopped his head to the side and just stared at Vince. “You think?”
“I do think. You’re right. Publicity is our best bet. Call him back.”
Erik poked his head between the seats. “I think so too.”
Alex picked up the phone and hit redial.
“Hello?” asked the man he’d been speaking to, breathless. His one word said everything. He’d been anticipating a call back, and he had questions. “Are you the man who just called … the Midnight Son?”
Alex gulped. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” the man said. “What do you want in exchange for this info?”
Alex hadn’t thought about what to say concerning a finder’s fee. He’d mentioned the payment just to sound authentic. But he didn’t want money; he wanted safety. For Irene. How could accepting a referral fee help Irene?
“Publicity!” he blurted out after a couple seconds. Publicity would help Irene, and it would be good for his business. “I want as many cameras as you have inside the terminal so you can capture a Midnight Son bringing Irene Rose safely home. I want you to mention that we work off donations.”
“That’s all you want?” The man sounded surprised.
Alex sighed. “That’s all I want. But … you must remain inside the terminal. If she sees you, she won’t leave the vehicle. We’ll enter through the last doors in the Arrivals area at exactly five o’clock this evening.”
Alex clicked End without offering anything else. If he offered additional info, the reporter might not show up, but now he’d be intrigued.
He looked up at Vince, who was shaking his head. “I know Sam busts your balls, but we all know you’re a true family man. Only you would think about asking for donations.”
Erik smiled. “Of course, he’s a family man. He’s a Midnight Son, and we stick together through hell or high water — err … snow.” He laughed at his own words as he squeezed Alex on the shoulder.
Alex shrugged. “I had to give the reporter something. Otherwise, he might not have believed me.” He blew out a long breath. “Please tell me this will work.”
“This will work, Alex,” Vince said. “In fact, why don’t the two of you drop me off now? Then, Erik can drop you off before five. I’ll find an inconspicuous place to wait. If Cal tries anything, the two of us can take him down.”
Alex chewed on a nail, then shook his head. “He killed a man, Vince. Right in front of me. Didn’t hesitate a second, just shot him.” He shook his head again. “No, I can’t let either of you get involved. Just drop me off.”
“Like that’s gonna happen.” Vince huffed and opened the driver’s door. “I’ll walk to the terminal.”
Erik grabbed Vince at the same time Alex did.
Alex felt his face get hot. Yeah, they risked their lives for their jobs, but they were good at what they did. Asking his brothers to take down Cal, knowing the man had just shot someone in cold blood … wasn’t something he was willing to do. “I already carry the guilt of our father’s death. Please don’t do this to me.”
Erik spoke first, “Bro, you weren’t responsible for Dad’s death. We have a dangerous job. But think about that … If you feel guilty, imagine how we’d feel if we let you do this alone? After I drop you off, I’ll swing back around. I’ll run that bastard down before I let him run off with either of you.”
Vince smiled. “See, Alex, that sounds like a good plan.”
Alex didn’t like the plan. Didn’t like the idea of his brothers’ involvement. But … he couldn’t lose Irene either. And the Midnight Sons worked better as a team; they always had.
He reached out and rested his hands on a shoulder of each of his brothers. “Okay … You’re right. We’re better if we stick together.”
Alex wished Sam were here. Sam was the one person who could talk sense into their brothers. Then again, Sam might not be willing to jump into icy water to rescue an animal, but Alex knew for certain that he would for him or anyone else. Maybe it was good Sam wasn’t here.
If things went badly, at least their mother would have her eldest and youngest child to comfort her.
~ Irene ~
Irene wrestled with what she should do. Fight, or allow Cal to use her as bait?
As she trailed behind Cal and Jeff, exiting the house through the same door she’d entered, she scanned the surrounding wood.
Would they shoot her in the back if she ran? Probably not. Would they track her down? Probably. That could mess up whatever Cal had planned at least. If Cal arrived at the airport late, chances are Alex might not be there.
But then he’d set up another rendezvous. The next one might not be in Alex’s favor, and she was positive that Alex had come up with the airport swap.
Cal tossed a look over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Irene! Your lover awaits.”
Once again, Irene struggled to keep her face void of any emotion. Cal had said lover, but he didn’t actually know that she was in love with Alex. If Cal knew she loved Alex, then he’d have twice as much leverage.
No, the best thing was to go along with whatever Alex had planned, and then pull her weight when the time was right.
Jeff held the rear door open for her, then climbed into the co-pilot’s seat. Obviously, Cal was flying again.
Before Jeff buckled in, he turned to her, handing her the large cup. “Here ya go, hon. It’s a short run, but —”
Irene cut him off with a smirk but accepted the cup. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. But thank you.”
Cal turned to take her in. “You’ll see lover boy soon enough. Just settle in.”
The man was obviously testing her, seeing if she’d scream or cry … or jump.
Irene glanced down at her boot but waited for the two men to preoccupy themselves with flying. She had opened the pocketknife in the cellar, and then carefully slid it back into her boot, aiming the sharp edge against the inside lining. The blade’s cold spine dug into her ankle, but it’d be worth the discomfort if wielding it bought Alex enough time to get away.
She held the cup in her left hand, preparing to yack in it if either looked back, as she slid her right hand toward the boot. She’d kept the top laces loose, hoping she wouldn’t slice open her fingers. Bleeding profusely wouldn’t be very covert. Gingerly, she felt along her ankle, reaching for the sides of the blade.
“Beats driving, huh, Irene?” Cal offered good-humoredly.
Irene immediately bent over the cup and moaned. “Not if you get airsick.”
“Woman, you’re gonna have to get used to flying; it’s the backbone of my business.”
“Hm,” she groaned.
While Cal and Jeff laughed, Irene pulled the knife up with her fingers. She palmed it, her eyes remaining on the men, not what she was doing. She hadn’t felt a slice, but the blade was sharp. It could have sliced her open without her even feeling it.
Alex's Atonement (Midnight Sons Book 2) Page 21