Break Point

by Danielle LaBue

  “How would I know?”

  Jake squinted, trying to see through the swaying branches of the trees. But the wind had picked up, throwing shadows and distorting the view. “I’ve got to get back to the house.”

  “Are you letting me go?”

  This was Jake’s one problem with undercover work. Hunting down sharks like Big Al meant relying on smaller fish for information. Sometimes completing a successful mission meant letting the small fish back in the sea. Jake looked over at Malcolm. He truly believed this guy was just a middle man. On his own he wasn’t a threat. “Get the hell out of here,” he said.

  Jake waited for the door to close behind him before snapping off the pool house light. His tired eyes struggled to adjust to darkness, and the throbbing pain in his temples obscured his focus. He held his breath, straining to hear anything coming from the direction of the house. But there was nothing. Just eerie quiet and the whistle of the wind in the trees.

  He pushed open the door then took off across the grass, stopping when he made it to the patio wall. He wiped the drizzle from his face then dug his fingers in the gritty stone, hoisting himself up one the ledge. He took a step but paused when heard a voice in the shadows. “Anston, please! I don’t want to die!”

  ***

  Summer sat motionless on the stone, thanking God for the cover of darkness. Despite being yards away, the shot he fired moments earlier had missed her. She suspected she also had the scotch to thank for that.

  “Summer, I loved you like my own! I gave you a home and a life your father never could and this is how you repay me?”

  She hugged the shadows along the patio’s ledge. The absence of the moon and the gathering mist would hide her, but not for long. She was sure the gunshot would draw people outside, but the blare of the music must have muted the sound. There was no one. No Jake or Leslie. No one to count on but herself.

  “Do you think Geoffrey loves you, Summer?” Vitalie taunted. “He's using you. You’re a pawn.”

  The thin ribbon straps of her stilettos were fastened so tightly they were hard to maneuver with her trembling hands. Finding the medal clasp she slid a fingernail underneath. One released and then two. She kicked them off into the shadows.

  “Are you hearing me, Summer?”

  How could she not. He was only feet from her now. Too close to miss her again if he let off another shot. She touched her bare feet to the stone, the dampness curling her toes.

  “You can’t run from me Summer!” He taunted. “I won’t let you.”

  Again he fired. The bullet whizzed by her ear before she threw herself to the ground.

  “He’s using you! He only wants you for your money.”

  Who was using her? Her father? Geoffrey? What did she have to do with Geoffrey’s business dealings? She was in front of the windows now, too low to the ground to be seen by the partygoers, but bathed in the light that spilled from inside. Vitalie now had a clear shot.

  “Look at me, Summer I want to see your beautiful face when I put a bullet through it.”

  When she turned her head, she was staring down the barrel of Vitalie’s revolver. Its silver gleam chilled her, flushing her tears to the surface. “Please don’t do this. Anston” she pleaded. “I swear I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  Inside the band had stopped. If she was lucky people would come outside to get some air. Lifting her head she stole a glance through the window. Random faces. All oblivious. She was helpless.

  “What is going on out here?”

  Summer swung her head around to the far end of the patio. Geoffrey and Nila stood in the light. Their faces pale with shock.

  “Well look who’s here.” Vitalie teased, the whites of his eyes vivid in the darkness. “Your fiancé and new owner of the Vitalie School and, of course, his little red haired charge. Glad you two could join us.”

  So was Summer.

  “What the hell are you thinking, Anston!” Nila blurted. “Put the gun down!”

  “Nila, this has nothing to do with you.” Anston warned.

  “And this has nothing to do with Summer.” Geoffrey declared. He took a step toward Summer but a flick of the gun toward him pushed him back. “Our business transactions are our own. Anston. Let her go.”

  A small crowd formed as more people came out the terrace doors. Summer kept inching along the ground trying to make it to the shadows.

  “Tell her about the plan Geoffrey. Tell her about how you swindled me.”

  “What is he talking about, Geoffrey?” Summer asked, although an explanation at this point was unimportant. It was the distraction of conversation that interested her.

  “Geoffrey has been lying to you, Summer! He wants to replace you with Nila. Tell her about how you’ve broken deals with Summer’s sponsors and made them for Nila instead.”

  “He’s lying.” Geoffrey spat. “Summer, don’t listen.”

  “Don’t you see? I am doing you a favor. Everyone has betrayed you. Your father, Geoffrey.”

  Suddenly she found her voice. “And now you, of course, Anston?”

  Anston lunged forward and grabbed her by her hair. The crowd collectively gasped, watching as he raised the barrel of the gun to her temple. “Summer, there is nothing left for you. If I put this bullet in your head, you’d be better off.”

  “Drop it, Vitalie.”

  From the corner of her eye, she could make out a silhouette in the shadows. He was on one knee, a gun poised at Anston’s head. “You pop her, I pop you. Why don’t we save the time and the mess and let her go.”

  Sobs pushed from her throat when she heard Jake’s voice. Strong and confident just like the man himself. “I’m warning you, Anston. Let her go.”

  In the distance, sirens wailed. Red and blue lights flashed in the night sky. Summer could hear Jake pant a few feet away. Even smell his cologne wafting in the damp air.

  “The stabbing was an accident, Summer.” Vitalie blurted. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but now, I think you might have deserved it.”

  “Vitalie, I’m warning you.” Jake yelled.

  “Let me put you out of your misery.”

  Summer screamed when she heard the shot. She hid her face in her hands and fell to the stone, curling her knees to her chest.

  She waited for the pain, but there was none. Clinging to cold stone beneath her, she lay there motionless. Not even breathing until someone brushed the hair from her face.

  “Summer, are you okay?”

  Slowly she opened her eyes. “Leslie?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, you’re okay. The police are here and so is the ambulance. Why don’t I help you up?”

  More time had passed than the seconds she’d assumed. The police had already taped off the area and were talking with some of the guests. She shivered despite the heavy wool blanket that had been thrown around her.

  “Jake wants me to take you back to his house.” Leslie told her, walking her over to the edge of the patio. “He wants you out of sight until the match tomorrow.”

  “Darling, are you alright?”

  Summer blinked at the voice beside her. A weak smile pulled at Geoffrey’s lips and her instinct was to smile back. But then she remembered her anger, and fought the urge to slap him instead.

  “Thank God you’re okay.” He touched a clammy hand to her cheek but she pulled away. “I was so scared.”

  “Get away from me,” She opened her eyes enough to see Nila beside him. “Both of you.”

  “Summer, don’t tell me you believe what that crazy man was saying.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? It makes sense. You book Nila for endorsement deals that should be mine and now you have enough to pay for this place.” She straightened, looking him dead in the eye. “It’s always about the business isn’t it, Geoffrey.”

  He smoothed down lapels, then glanced around at the small crowd around him. “Darling, we can talk about all this later. Right now, I’m just glad all this is over.”

  His wor
ds jarred something in her brain, clicking her minds eye into focus. He was right. Regardless of Anston and Geoffrey’s business dealings, she should be relieved. Vitalie said himself he was the one who attacked her, and now he was gone.

  She expelled a breath, one she was sure she’d been holding since the day it happened. At this moment there was no longer a reason to look over her shoulder. The danger was gone.

  “How about we get out of here, now?” Leslie coaxed, helping her off the ledge. “You need a good night sleep.”

  Over Leslie’s shoulder she could see the huddle of uniformed police staring down at the bloody mess that had been Anston Vitalie. Jake stood over him, his gun still in his hand.

  “Jake killed him, didn’t he?”

  Leslie nodded. “He didn’t have a choice.”

  She bit her lip, afraid her gratitude would manifest in a torrent of sobs. She took a step toward him, but Leslie stopped her, resting her hand on her shoulder. “Summer, you shouldn’t be over there.”

  “I have to talk to Jake.”

  “Now isn’t a good time.”

  She shrugged her off, her bare feet stinging as she shuffled across the stone. His back was to her so she tugged on his tux, now torn, blood-stained and wet from the rain. ““Thank you.” she whispered, not sure who she was addressing—Jake for saving her life or maybe fate for sending him in the first place. She went limp when he held her, his grip alone keeping her on her feet. She pressed her face against his chest, letting his heat radiate against her.

  “Can we get her out of the night air, please?” she heard him say. “And get the medics back over here. I think she’s still in shock.”

  Gathering her in his arms, he carried her through the crowd to the small parlor just inside the far terrace door. He lay her down on the red, velvet couch, tucking the blanket in around her.

  “Sweetheart, you’re okay.” he told her, stroking her hair as it fell across her face. “I’m right here. Just relax.”

  She slid her hand around his neck, playing with the short dark hair at the nape. “You look terrible.”

  He chuckled. “Never too out of it to insult me, huh?”

  “No I mean your tux.” She reached out, pulling him close by a torn lapel. “It’s criminal to treat Armani that way. And what happened to your face?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He took her hand from his face and held it between his palms. “You scared me to death, you know that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go out with Anston by yourself.”

  “It was my fault, Jake. I went.”

  He nodded, his hooded eyes telling her he was sorry. Bringing her hand to his lips he kissed it then stood up and gestured toward the door. “Believe me I want to stay with you, but I have to get back outside and do my job.”

  “I don’t want to be just your job, Jake. I want to be with you.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Riley?”

  Summer bit her lip, suddenly aware of the other pair of eyes on her. Earl Diggs’ dark face was in front of her, dressed in a Bonita Springs police uniform. “Remember me? I’ve met you a few times before.”

  “Sure.” She swung her legs over the couch and sat up. “From the bar and the hotel. Good to see you again Mr. Diggs.” She held out her hand for him to shake.

  “Mr. Harrison, the coroner is here. And the medics are waiting too if Miss Riley needs a once over.”

  “I’m fine.” Summer held her hand in the air. “Jake’s friend, Leslie, is going to take me home.”

  “I’ll be out there in a minute.” Jake said to Diggs.

  “No problem.” Earl said, heading for the door. ”Oh, by the way, Miss. Riley, Officer Baker is trying to hold off the press. It’s no guarantee that what happened tonight won’t get out, but it might spare you the headline in the morning paper.”

  Summer nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.” She waited for the door to close behind him before turning back to Jake. “Why is Diggs wearing a police uniform?” she asked.

  “It’s his cover. You’re the only one who knows who I really am, remember?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I remember.

  Voices drifted closer beyond the closed door. He stood up and pulled out his gun, reloading the bullets in the barrel. “Summer, do you know where Anston’s office is in this place? I need to check it out.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Just want you safe is all.”

  She turned away, the sight of the gun scaring her. “Upstairs, third floor. Can you please do that somewhere else.”

  “Sorry.” Jake snapped the chamber shut and hid the gun back in his torn pants.

  The worry clouding his face confused her. “Wait a minute? I’m safe now, aren’t I?”

  “Just do as I say and let Leslie take you back to my house.” His voice was gentle as if talking to a child. “She’ll keep you company until I get there.”

  This didn’t make sense. The bad guy was caught. She wasn’t in danger anymore.

  Was she?

  “I don’t want you talking to anyone about the investigation. Got it?” His eyes were stern, a look she’d never seen before.

  “What about Geoffrey?”

  “I told Leslie to tell him you needed to be in a safe house until tomorrow’s match.” He glanced back at the closed door, then back at her. “I can’t talk about this now.”

  The urgency in his words and the set of his jaw made her stomach tighten. “Jake, should I still be afraid?”

  He leaned over and pressed his finger against her lips, then replaced the finger with his lips. When he pulled away, his tired eyes locked on hers. “Just let me go, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Before she could answer he was gone. “Please be careful.” she whispered, to no one but herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jake pulled a cigarette from his glove compartment stash, smiling to himself as he lit it. He’d get an earful about the smell when he got home, a prospect he was actually looking forward to. By then, he would know the success of his mission and the value of basing his whole life on a hunch.

  Big Al had to be here.

  Jake figured Al’s moles in the police department would have alerted him of the earlier happenings at Vitalie’s party. He also knew that whenever there was a crisis, Big Al hunkered down here in the back bar room at Giovanni’s. If Jake read the dim light in the back window right, his research again had served him well.

  He drew a long drag, letting the smoke slither out from between his lips. The parking lot was empty, a fact that surprised him. Whenever he pictured this moment of redemption, he figured he would have to eliminate the rest of the army to get to the General. But the yellow wind flag outside warned all to stay away. He was all alone. Unguarded. Jake would have a clear shot.

  The darkness dulled to a shroud of grey when he stepped from his car. A weird sort of tunnel vision heightened his senses, making each of his steps echo in his ears, and the smell of the rain more pungent than usual. He pulled open the door, pacing to the back room as if something other than himself propelled him. He slowed when he saw a shadow at the bar. There in the darkness Al sat on a stool, his hands wrapped around a shooter of scotch.

  In that instant Jake could feel the impact of the crash all over again, like the wind had been violently forced from him. He hung in the doorway, drawing strength from the shadows, gathering himself for the showdown he’d dreamed about.

  “So, there you are.” Al finally said, lifting his glass in a toast. “I had a feeling after tonight’s events you would come looking for me.”

  “You weren’t hard to find. Even snakes like you come up for sun once in a while.” Jake let his words settle around him, making sure it was clear his visit was not out of friendship. He stepped behind the bar, snapping on the overhead light. A bottle of bourbon was breathing beside Al, and the half-full ashtray hinted he’d had been waiting a while.

  “So the boys were right about you, huh, Harrison. You do have some sort of person
al agenda.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You never did get over what happened on that track, did you? I thought we were square now.”

  “We’re not friends, Al.” Jake said. “Friends don’t ruin friend’s lives.”

  Al nodded, staring at the contents of his glass. “So let me guess how it went. You felt cheated after what happened at the Daytona. So, filled with this drive of revenge, you made it your mission to pay me back. That sound about right?”

  Al was smiling. It would have angered Jake if he was surprised. He was known for his even temper, a strategy adopted to frustrate those seeking confrontation.

  It wouldn’t work on Jake.

  “I agreed to throw one race.” Jake spat. “Because of you I lost my entire career. You tampered with my car and you made sure I would go down. Was my word not good enough?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to turn out that way.”

  “Is that what you are going to tell Summer?”

  “So I screwed up.” Al’s steely eyes meeting Jake’s. “I did what I did for a reason.”

  “Is that all it is to you, a screw up?”

  Al took a long swig of his bourbon, his silence probably out of strategy rather than having nothing to say. Jake walked around the bar, running his fingers along the edge. “So let me see if I got this right. You had your daughter whacked for some condo in South Beach. Sounds like you’re Father of the Year.”

  “It was more than just a condo, believe me.”

  “And that makes it okay?”

  “What the hell do you want me to say?” He shrugged as if talking about the weather. “That’s the way it goes, Jake. Sometimes in business when you take a chance you lose out. You and Summer were unlucky.”

  “Damn right we were.” Jake grabbed the liquor bottle by the neck and smashed it against the bar. Shards flew through the air, shredding his hands and wrist bringing pain that weirdly relieved him. “So how about we play by my rules now. And I do what I’ve been dying to do for eight years.” He thrust the broken bottle to Al’s throat, the pointed tips pressing against his jugular. A drip of blood landed on the white color of his shirt. “I’ve waiting for this moment for a long time, Riley.”