Volcano

by Patricia Rice

  Penelope figured he didn’t have an answer to the “where to?” or the “how?” that was forming on the tip of her tongue, so she didn’t waste her breath. “You don’t really think they’re inclined to come in here and mow us down with machine guns, do you?”

  “I believe the term is semiautomatic weapons, and no, I don’t see that scenario. I can, however, see Jacobsen calling Poindexter with some fraudulent charge and demanding your instant removal. We can worry about the semiautomatics as we’re tossed out on the street.”

  This still didn’t feel real to her. She hadn’t seen Michel’s body or the skeleton in Raul’s hut. She hadn’t seen the ransacked cottage. She’d been in an auto accident before. They happened without rhyme or reason. She had no way of knowing if that ravine was intended for them. For all she knew, Charlie was as paranoid as Raul. The paper trail to the possible Russian Mafia worried her though. Still, that didn’t mean—

  Charlie slapped both hands on the desk in front of her and leaned over until they were practically eye to eye. “Did you find any new companies in Jacobsen’s file?” he demanded.

  The harshness of his gaze froze her. She almost wished for his mirrored sunglasses back. “He just incorporated a new construction firm under the name of St. Lucia Productions. The Russians are on the stated board of directors. So is Emile.”

  He muttered a foul expletive, straightened, and plowed his fingers through his hair. “The last time I looked, Jacobsen’s corporate office was closed and up for sale. I don’t suppose you can give me the address of the new company?”

  “He’s incorporating in Delaware and lists a Delaware attorney as his agent of record. But the mailing address is St. Lucia.” Penelope held her breath and waited for the explosion.

  His shoulders hunched. He turned his back toward her, so she couldn’t see his expression, but she could see his fingers form fists. He didn’t know what to do with her, she realized. He wanted to find Jacobsen, but he didn’t dare leave her alone. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Glancing at the rainbow of roses in the crystal vase, she decided it was best not to ponder too deeply on how she felt about anything.

  Emotions only confused matters. Logic and concentration, on the other hand, could put together pretty clear pictures.

  “The company uses a rental car agency down the street. They’ll deliver a car to the parking garage attendant. I can tell Rachel we’re heading out for an early lunch and then to your office for the afternoon. She’ll accept that. I can’t set up a system without examining your books.” She bounced her pencil on the desk and eyed the Godivas longingly. She really needed chocolate right now. “If you think there’s any danger, you may want to tell your office staff to clear out.”

  He seemed to take a deep breath but didn’t turn. “I think, at this point,” he replied slowly, as if thinking aloud, “they’re after us and your computer. There wouldn’t be a lot of point in drawing attention to themselves by terrorizing anyone else, unless they figure my staff has access to the information.”

  “Why don’t we just let the FBI handle this?” she asked softly. “Tammy and Raul are safe. Your employees will get paid. We can just hide away somewhere until this is over.”

  Charlie turned, and the heated look in his eyes almost blew her away. He acknowledged her reaction with a wry grin that didn’t reduce the smolder. “Someplace with hot springs and big beds?” he suggested. “I might take you up on that offer.”

  Oh my. Oh double my. Just like the Wicked Witch of the West, she melted into a puddle at his feet. She should have been wearing her ruby slippers. Even with her limited imagination Penelope could see them both naked in some bubbling jungle spring. To hell with the real world. She wanted the promise she read in Charlie’s eyes.

  She called the rental car company. They’d arrived by taxi, leaving the Escort and her car at the apartment to confuse anyone following them. A rental car in the company name should be equally untraceable.

  Charlie nodded approvingly, then returned to pacing. He spoke as soon as she hung up. “If they possess a parcel of brains between them, they’ll know about my plane by now. We can’t use that. I’ll call a ’copter company and have them deliver you to Orlando. You can have a good time with the kids.”

  You? He was sending her to Orlando? The morning’s tension hit an outlet and erupted. Penelope heaved the box of chocolates at him. Silver and gold foil, white and dark chocolates exploded across the room as the shiny box bounced off Charlie’s huge shoulders. She could scarcely miss a target as broad as any barn.

  “You bastard!” She would have shouted, but that would only bring the curiosity seekers running. She seethed too much to desire an audience. He’d conned her with warm looks and pretty flowers, made her think he was actually listening to her excellent advice, and then he dumped her on family. She would kill him for building her hopes so high.

  Charlie stood amid the sea of expensive chocolates and glared at her. “That’s a nasty right arm you’ve got there. Throw the roses too, if it’ll make you feel better. It won’t change my mind. You’re home and you’re safe and I want it to stay that way. You can help your brother-in-law look after Tammy and Raul.”

  “Ex-brother-in-law,” she reminded him. “And just what do you think you’ll be doing? Taking Emile out to dinner and explaining all the reasons why he can’t marry his daughter off to Russian Mafia or European nobility or whatever? Or maybe you thought you’d single-handedly take on Jacobsen and his thugs and blow them off the map? What the hell do you think you can do that the FBI can’t?”

  He shrugged his big shoulders. “I don’t know, but I’ll do it a lot easier knowing you’re safe.”

  Men! More exasperated than outraged now, Penelope returned to bouncing her pencil on the desk. “I haven’t given you Jacobsen’s address yet,” she pointed out. “You can’t just attack him without any evidence.”

  He hadn’t really thought about it. Watching the glossy knot of Penelope’s black hair in the sunshine from the window, Charlie couldn’t think of much at all except keeping that slender neck out of trouble. She kept stroking the rose petals and moving the crystal to catch the sun when she thought he wasn’t looking. A woman like Penelope, one who acknowledged she’d once been a fashion model, must have received hundreds of roses in her lifetime, but he thought maybe she fancied his offering a little. He wanted her safe until he could come back and take her out properly. Maybe he’d even escort her to the symphony or something, so he could prove he wasn’t a complete hick.

  “Let’s just get out of here, all right?” he suggested. “If you’re not here, your boss can’t fire you. Bill all your time to my account. That’s what my accountant does anyway. How long before the car arrives?”

  She shrugged and looked regretfully at the flowers. “Not long. I guess it would look kind of odd to take these with me.”

  “I’ll buy you more. I’ll buy entire bushes. C’mon, let’s go. The longer I stay in this place, the more nervous I get.” Scraping a path through the chocolates with his foot, Charlie pulled her from the chair.

  She reached over and captured a fragile peach-colored bud from the vase, then scooped up a handful of the foil-wrapped chocolates from the floor. “Rachel will think we had a food fight.”

  The longer she dragged this out, the more nervous he became. Charlie figured she was making him crazy on purpose. He rescued the box and dumped a handful of truffles into it. “Everyone has to eat a bit of dirt in their lifetime. Here, take this.”

  She carefully reattached the lid and tucked the box and his note into the bulging leather satchel containing her laptop. Then she jerked open a desk drawer and removed a compact cell phone. “I hate these things, but it might be helpful. Surely Jacobsen can’t trace calls?”

  “Hell if I know.” Catching her elbow, he dragged her toward the door. “Can you throw basketballs as well as you throw candy?” he demanded as they hurried down the silent, carpeted corridor. He had to keep her busy mind occupied.
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  “I was a cheerleader, remember? Didn’t have time for basketball.” Her long strides matched his easily.

  “Bet you would have been good,” he muttered as they reached the lobby. Charlie grimaced as still another messenger appeared outside the glass enclosure. One of these days he’d learn not to go overboard.

  The gray-capped delivery man entered bearing a giant white teddy bear cuddling a shiny red cardboard heart-shaped box. Rachel looked up at it, grinned, and turned a speculative gaze to them as Charlie tried to push Penelope out the door.

  “Better wait a second, Miss Albright. Looks like another special delivery.”

  Penelope had donned her horn-rimmed glasses sometime during their flight down the hall. With her hair jerked back in its tight knot and wearing her straitlaced, no-nonsense suit, she had reverted to the iron robot Charlie had first seen at the airport. But he knew her better now, knew the passionate woman who could make love to him in a Jacuzzi, dump fish bait over his head when angered, and love her family to the point of working herself to death for them. That woman gazed longingly at the giant white teddy bear.

  Penelope hesitated just long enough for Rachel to sign the messenger’s receipt and glance at the delivery name. When the receptionist didn’t stop her, she started to turn and follow the messenger out the door.

  “For you, Miss Albright,” Rachel called brightly.

  “Damn you, Charlie Smith,” Penelope murmured beneath her breath. “I’m going to hate you forever for this.”

  Charlie speculated on the nature of love/hate relationships as she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and swung around to act totally surprised for Rachel’s benefit.

  “For me? Beth must have found a bargain on stuffed animals somewhere. Thank you.” She gingerly lifted the mammoth animal with her free arm. Charlie tried to relieve her of the laptop so she could hold the bear, but she clung to it as she would to a lifeline.

  “Aren’t you going to look at the card?” Rachel called after her as Penelope strode hurriedly for the door.

  “I’ll look at it later. It’s probably for the kids.” Breezily, she swept out of the office, leaving Charlie to catch up.

  “Damn you, damn you, damn you,” she muttered as she hurried down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator.

  “How do you know it’s from me?” Charlie demanded as he raced down the dark stairwell after her. He’d never met so perverse a woman in his entire life. Try to make her smile, and she cursed. Still, he’d seen her eyes when that bear arrived, and he could hear the tears in her voice now. She was on the verge of breaking down. He was starting to understand that Miss Penny didn’t like losing control.

  “Nobody sends me stuffed animals,” she practically sobbed as she shoved at the heavy metal door to the parking garage. “Do I look like a stuffed animal kind of person?”

  “You look like a woman who would have a houseful of dogs and cats, given the opportunity,” Charlie declared boldly. “I would have given you a puppy if I’d thought the complex would allow it.” He couldn’t believe he saw her so well, but he did, as if a giant light bulb had turned on and illuminated her soul. She was as soft and squishy inside as those candies she’d shoved into her briefcase, but this damned job and her responsibilities were drying her out and making her as hard as her exterior disguise.

  “I—” she started to say as they stepped into the hot garage. She halted abruptly in front of him, and Charlie nearly plowed into her.

  Righting himself, he glanced over her shoulder at the two men in dark raincoats blocking their path. One aimed what Charlie could only assume was the semiautomatic rifle they’d discussed earlier. Behind them waited the black Cadillac with tinted windows.

  Cursing under his breath, Charlie bumped his hip into the elevator button in the concrete wall behind them. Then he prayed.

  “The briefcase, Miss Albright,” the tall gunman demanded.

  Penelope hesitated. Charlie’s heart nearly stopped. “Give it to him,” he all but shouted. He sure as hell didn’t intend to lose her over a blasted computer.

  With obvious reluctance, she slipped the heavy strap from her shoulder. She juggled the bear and the bag with suspicious awkwardness. Charlie had never seen her make an awkward move. Just as he realized what she intended, she swung the bag—hard.

  Oh, hell.

  The taller man screamed in pain as the heavy briefcase connected squarely with his groin.

  As the elevator door slowly opened, Charlie shoved the red fire-alarm button, jerked Penelope to the ground, and rolled into the elevator just as bullets pelted over their heads. The fire alarm screeched and echoed through the hollow cement walls of the garage. The elevator doors slammed closed.

  Gunfire shot through the doors as the elevator plunged downward.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “Damn you, why couldn’t you just give him the damned computer!” Charlie raged as the elevator hit bottom and the doors didn’t open.

  “You were supposed to knock the other guy over, not get us locked in a stupid elevator!” she screamed back, standing and pounding the emergency button.

  She still clung to the bear. From the looks of the mangled box in the bear’s arms, the animal had taken the brunt of her fall. Charlie swallowed a small gulp of relief. He’d never tackled a woman before. He’d been afraid he’d broken every bone in her body.

  “Just like the TV movies, I suppose,” he said derisively. “I should have tackled him, torn the gun from his hands, and sprayed them with lead. Right, I’ll remember that next time.” He was still shaken. He didn’t mean to yell at her like that.

  The elevator door sprang open and Penelope all but fell out onto the pavement. The wail of the fire alarm pounded against Charlie’s eardrums as he caught her and steered her toward what he thought should be the entrance. From a distance, he could hear the scream of sirens. That ought to give the two goons pause.

  “I suppose the rental car is upstairs,” he grumbled, finally taking her briefcase away and slinging it over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, but the elevators lock, and if anyone pays attention to fire alarms, the entire building should be emptying down those stairs by now.” She clutched her bear with both arms and let Charlie drag her toward the entrance ramp.

  Deciding she was already scared enough without him yelling, Charlie shut his mouth. Even if crowds of people poured into the streets, he and Penelope couldn’t lose themselves in the mix. They might enjoy the protection of police and fire crews for a while, but the goons could still see them. He had to think of a way out of here without being seen.

  “Back entrance, Penelope,” he demanded, stopping short, holding her elbow. “The bastards will run out the front with everyone else. They can’t be everywhere at once.”

  She hesitated, then turned back toward the concrete blocks of the stairs. Charlie followed. He didn’t think returning upstairs was such a hot idea—he’d seen entirely too many movies where someone got trapped on the roof because they were too stupid to run down instead of up—but he didn’t know this building as she did. He’d have to trust her.

  She skirted around the concrete blocks to the back part of the garage. A low wall separated the parking spaces from an oleander foundation hedge outside the garage. With only a moment’s hesitation, she scanned the hedge, found the weakest spot, and determinedly strode toward it.

  A parking lot full of interested sightseers waited beyond. He and Penelope would have to take their chances that the gunmen were still at the front end of the building, waiting for them to come out the ramps. Charlie dropped Penelope’s arm, parted the hedge as best as he could, and lifted her up to step over the wall first. He followed, leaving a gaping hole of broken branches. If anyone cared to look, they would know how they’d escaped. He prayed he and Penelope would be well on their way before anyone figured it out.

  The sightseers hurried over to talk to them, but Penelope just vaguely waved toward the front of the building. “It’s up there.
Flames all over. I couldn’t breathe.” She talked as she walked, pushing people aside and aiming for the street without giving anyone a chance to stop her.

  Charlie loved the way she did that. She sailed past men and women alike, as if she were a queen with more important places to be. He’d admired her style from the first moment he’d seen her.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t still furious at her for risking her damned life. He hailed a taxi slowing down to watch the spectacle.

  “Got a fire?” the driver asked laconically as Charlie opened the door and all but shoved Penelope in, bear and all.

  “False alarm,” he asserted coldly. “We’re late for a meeting.” He gave the driver the address of the hotel his crew was working on near the airport. Then he turned to Penelope and held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”

  She rummaged in her briefcase and produced the compact phone. “You wouldn’t have it if I’d given them the bag,” she reminded him.

  “I wouldn’t need it if you’d given them the bag,” he retorted. Then, after pounding in the numbers for his office, he barked orders at Sherry.

  In the corner of the backseat, Penelope hugged her bear and looked out the window. They were back to square one.

  ***

  “We don’t need a map, John,” Beth said patiently, trying not to hold her hand to her pounding head, praying the pain would go away so she could think clearly. “There are signs right on the highway. All you have to do is follow them.”

  In the backseat, Tammy was halfheartedly singing the alphabet song with the kids. The two runaway lovers had been remarkably unloverlike all the way up here. Beth could have told Charlie’s little sister that men didn’t like women running after them, but she guessed people had to learn for themselves. Of course, if Raul had just been playing with Tammy and hadn’t meant anything serious, Beth suspected Charlie would rip his friend’s head off.