by Dawn Ryder
“Why?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “That’s why I came to see you first. I might not have a chance afterwards. Since it’s the last stretch of the election vote gathering, I imagine she called me for something important.”
His wife knew what he was. Knew he worked with the Shadow Ops teams. But it shocked him to see her eyes fill with tears.
“Princess…”
Damascus sucked in a hard breath and muttered a word he didn’t often hear cross her lips. “Hormones…” she groused as she wiped her eyes. “I cry over the stupidest things these days.”
“Nice to know it isn’t concern for me.”
Her eyes flooded again, this time spilling over onto her cheeks. Vitus had started to grin, but his enjoyment of teasing his wife died in horror as her cheeks became streaked by salt-water drops.
“I should let you feel guilty,” Damascus muttered before she was hugging him and pulling him down for a kiss. “But I’m just so happy to see you.”
“Likewise, Princess,” Vitus muttered before he buried his head in her hair. “I’ve got to go. Promise me you’ll stay in the labs until I give you an all clear?”
“Wait a second.” Vitus had set her back, shooting her a very serious look that she recognized from when he’d had to rescue her. “You didn’t come by to see me?”
“I did,” he insisted in a guarded tone.
Damascus shook her head. “You”—she pointed at him—“came down here to rat on me to Colonel Magnus and make sure he keeps me inside while you’re dealing with whatever my mother needs you for.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t come to see you as well, Princess,” Vitus defended himself.
“Glad you filled her in.”
Damascus gasped and spun around. Colonel Bryan Magnus was sitting in a chair on the far side of the room. The commanding officer of the labs sent her husband a cocky grin. “Because I sure didn’t want to be the man on the front line.” The colonel stood up. “Pregnant women get away with everything. Half my staff will put salt in my coffee if they think I caused her tears.”
“It would serve you right if I cry during tomorrow’s staff briefing,” Damascus muttered.
The Colonel shot Vitus a hard look. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I hope you call me before tomorrow.”
Vitus nodded and looked back at his wife. “Be good, Princess.”
Damascus narrowed her eyes.
“Your mother called me. Let me give her my full attention.”
His wife stiffened and nodded. She was back in his arms, kissing him good-bye.
* * *
Kagan was watching her. Jenna contemplated the house he’d driven them to.
It’s got character, she decided.
The little house was half hidden in an overgrown orange grove. The trees were growing wild now, some of them dead where drought had taken its toll but there were still several that were huge, their limbs weighed down by fruit-laden limbs. The lack of tending meant there were piles of dead branches and leaves and dead tumble weeds from the last winter.
“Tell me there is running water and I’ll be ecstatic,” Jenna said.
Kagan was wiggling a key in the weathered lock. There was a crunching sound before he was able to turn it and push the door in.
“Don’t count on hot water,” he advised as he peered inside.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jenna said, eager to find a shower.
Kegan held up a hand, warning her to stop. “Stay here.”
He was gone a moment, moving through the little house on silent feet. The sun had set, bringing with it the evening breeze. It blew across the threshold, disturbing the pile of dust and dried foxtails that had worked their way under the doorjamb. There were vintage wooden floors inside and plywood over the windows.
She heard the distinct sound of running water from beyond the living room she could see into.
“I’ll take that as an invitation to enter the premises,” she said loud enough for Kagan to hear her.
He reappeared in the hallway, filling the space completely. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to find some dinner.”
The house was tiny. Just two bedrooms and a single bathroom.
Yeah, well there is a shower.
Jenna dug beneath the sink for a moment, grinning when she found a bar of soap among the jumble of cleaning supplies and towels that looked less than fresh. She opened up one of the towels and gave it a snap before stripping down.
She sucked in her breath at the temperature of the water. It was a cruel twist of fate that the temperatures above ground was so dammed hot but the water stayed so cool in the pipes. She worked the soap through her hair and down her body.
She shouldn’t still smell Dare.
But she did as she climbed back into her clothing.
You have to move on.
She left the bathroom, going into the bedroom. There wasn’t any furniture in it, just a pile of camping gear.
The sleeping bag sent a memory churning through her.
You knew it was only for the moment.
Yeah, that still didn’t keep her from noticing how much she missed Dare.
Dare … she’d never asked if it was his real name. He might not have told her, and, honestly, it made more sense that he’d have given her no way to reach out to him.
Right. He told you he’d go on with his life.
And he had.
So she would as well.
* * *
“Vitus…” Miranda Delacroix gasped.
Her hotel suite was plush and polished.
“Replace your security,” Vitus said from where he was leaning against a pillar.
“Dunn said the same thing.” Miranda shook her head and waved her hand in the air. “Not that it matters.”
“It matters because I’m in here and they don’t know it,” Vitus insisted.
“Yes…” Miranda was distracted by going across the suite to where her purse was sitting on a desk. “This is why I called you … the number I had for Kagan wasn’t any good … and I think you’ll want to see this…”
Vitus listened, watching the video. His body tightened as it played.
“Who else knows you have this?” he asked.
“No one,” Miranda answered. “Carl knows too many people and even more are kissing up to him because it looks like he’s going to win the election.”
Vitus nodded. He took the phone and plugged it into the laptop sitting on the desk. “I’m making a couple of copies.”
“Yes, that’s wise,” Miranda answered.
“I’m also ratting you out to Dunn,” Vitus informed her.
Miranda stiffened. Vitus sent her a firm look. “I married your daughter, and your husband was an asshole. I did a background on you. You are Dunn’s birth mother and gave custody to his father after you ran away with a man your family didn’t approve of.” His lips twitched. “Damascus is a lot like you.”
Miranda turned white. Vitus cussed as he lunged up, catching her by the forearm as her knees started to buckle. He had to let her down or risk tearing her shoulder. Miranda landed on the edge of a glass coffee table. It was just a sheet of glass lying on the frame, and the thing flipped up, falling over onto the polished title floor with a crash.
The door of the suite opened a moment later. “Freeze!” Miranda’s security looked down their guns at Vitus.
“It was just an accident,” Miranda sputtered. “Clumsy of me.”
“Oh … sorry, Madam Delacroix … I didn’t realize you had family over.”
“Because you didn’t see me come in,” Vitus informed the guy. “Leave your post again and you’ll answer to me.”
The guy didn’t care for the reprimand, but he nodded and pulled the door shut.
Vitus helped Miranda to her feet. “No one should know … not even you.”
“I doubt many people could find the link. He looks more like his father, which is good conside
ring he’s around you more often these days,” Vitus said
“Who Dunn is in relation to me has nothing to do with why I called you, Vitus. There is no reason to bring him into my life where someone else will realize he’s my son,” Miranda tried to reason.
“I owe Dunn,” Vitus said as he finished with the computer. “And he helped us find Damascus. Dunn is a good man, one to be proud of. He’d never forgive me if I didn’t tell him you’re not secure, and this”—he waved the phone at her—“this could send Carl Davis over the edge.”
“If you are talking about a cliff, I certainly hope so,” Miranda said. “It’s far past time for him to get what he deserves.”
Vitus flashed her a smile. “I’ll do my best to make that a reality.”
“And I will call my son myself, thank you.”
Vitus crossed his arms over his chest and faced off with her.
“I have lived all of my life with men controlling every detail of my day,” she insisted. “You need to allow me to help myself.”
Vitus drew in a deep breath and let it out while contemplating her. “I’ll be in touch.”
He gave her a nod before he was striding across the tile floor. Housekeeping was just outside the door, coming in to clean up the mess.
Miranda went into the bedroom to hide her smile. They wouldn’t understand how good it felt to know she had put in motion something that would help bring Carl Davis down. There had been few times in her life when she’d felt like she’d done something significant.
Tonight was one of those moments.
* * *
“It’s untraceable wealth.”
Jenna looked up at Kagan, her jaw still hanging open. The backpack had yielded some stunning surprises.
There was a small zip-lock bag in her fingers with several loose diamonds inside it.
Kagan didn’t even blink. “Diamond values are kept inflated by crafty marketing and a monopoly on most of the mines. It makes them a good source of untraceable income. Once you’re resettled, you can sell those to establish another residence. We can’t liquidate your condo and send the money to you. It would leave a trail. Those are a trade-out for what you’re losing to secure your identity.”
“Right.” She tried to sound like she had it together but the truth was that composure was just a whisper on the wind. The little shiny diamonds should have represented the power to establish a life that was hers but all she saw was the permanent separation from Dare.
“There’s a decent selection of canned goods in the pantry. I turned the gas on so you can use the range,” Kagan continued. He wasn’t really at ease.
Well, he doesn’t look like the sort of man who ends up on babysitting duty.
No, he didn’t, but he was making an effort for her sake.
“Great.” Jenna stood up, trying to at least look like she had a grip on herself.
Kagan’s expression didn’t give his thoughts away, but he definitely struck her as the type of guy who wasn’t impressed by bullshit.
“Know how to use this?” Kagan held up a gun.
“I’ve got the basic idea,” she answered as she took it from him.
“Good.” He watched her for a second. “No one knows you’re here. Everything you need is laid out on the kitchen counter. Follow the instructions and you’ll be fine.”
He was leaving her.
Jenna bit her lip to keep from saying anything.
“Thanks.” Seemed lame.
So she watched him leave, standing in the doorway as he got in the truck they’d driven to the house in and backed up the driveway.
In the distance, there were lights where a housing tract was. They’d passed lines of construction equipment on their way into the orange grove. The house was scheduled for leveling so a new community could be built.
New chapter.
Right …
Moving into the kitchen, she looked at the items he’d left her. A hat with a note that said to wear it when she was in the city to shield her face. A set of keys and another note telling her a car was in the garage. Jenna didn’t go and look. Instead she stared at the passport on the counter. It was open to where her picture was.
Katie Sherlock.
And according to the passport, she lived in Florida.
There was a job and a history but she found herself left cold. A new chapter would include excitement. Only she was still dealing with the death of the last part of her life.
You’ll be fine …
Maybe.
Just like the house, she was being wiped off the face of the earth, no one left to remember her.
Dare would.
Come on … he’ll move on to the next case …
It was a bitter truth, one she’d thought herself prepared for.
Well, she wasn’t but at least she was alone.
No one would know how many tears she cried.
Or how many of them fell for the loss of Dare Servant.
* * *
“I took care of Ji Su.”
Carl Davis enjoyed delivering his information to Kirkland. “She will never tell anyone anything at all.”
“Now that is what I’m talking about,” Kirkland muttered. “You know how to man up when the times call for action.”
“You’re an arrogant little puss bag,” Carl said. “If you hadn’t been born into the right family line, you’d be nothing more than another struggling artist who turned to street crime to make ends meet. Your daddy’s empire makes sure your songs get heard by the masses.”
“Big words from a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth,” Kirkland snorted. “I earn everything I have. My daddy didn’t leave it to me. I was just smart enough not to get my brains blown out when he did.”
“I earn my way, too,” Carl Davis shot back. “No one else could have gotten to Ji Su before she started spilling her guts about you and the entire operation you have going on down there. The spa girls, the pornography you force them to make, all of it makes you rich because you don’t have to pay them anything. I worked to keep the heat off your daddy so he could grow that empire so you’re going to share some of the feast.”
“Alright,” Kirkland relented. “I hear you.”
“Good,” Carl grunted. “I better see a spike in the polls from all your media blasts, and don’t forget the cash.”
“The girls haven’t been working since Servant and his team have been sitting on us.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Carl asked. “You don’t have the money you do with shit for brains. You might have had to shut down your porn production but you would have those bitches working somewhere. Don’t get greedy on me.”
Carl killed the call. Eric Geyer held out a hand for the burner phone. “The prick doesn’t realize how simple it would be for me to let him fry.”
“It is an option to consider,” Eric advised.
Carl sat down and began to lean back. He froze and fixed his security chief with a hard look. “Explain.”
“Shadow Ops teams are effective. As president, they’d be a resource,” Eric said.
“They’re too devoted to justice,” Carl groused.
Eric offered his boss a tilt of his head. “That has purpose. It motivates them to perform above and beyond the call of duty.”
“They won’t perform for me,” Carl Davis said. “Tyler Martin was one of their number. I bought him and he sold them out. That’s the sort of thing they don’t forget, and, as you noted, they’re devoted to justice. To their way of thinking, I’ve crossed too many lines. I have to wipe them or they will take me out. I need the revenue and media coverage Kirkland brings to the table. It’s about survival now. Mine and yours.”
Eric nodded. “They scuttled the other witness. I’m working on locating her.”
“Good. I don’t need her deciding to pump up the volume of her life in a couple of years when she’s sick of hiding by popping her head up and making accusations and writing tell-all books. Make sure I never hear from her again.”
<
br /> Carl waved a hand in the air. The girl was insignificant. He had Eric to deal with annoyances like the one she presented. In another era, she’d have been a peasant, and it wouldn’t have shocked anyone to hear him say he was her better.
But he was.
She was the working class and he was a ruler. It was the destiny he’d been born to pursue and Kagan and his teams weren’t going to stand in the way.
Carl wouldn’t be the first ruler to take the crown through spilt blood.
In fact, it rather felt like a rite of passage.
* * *
Florida was muggy.
Used to the dry heat of Southern California, Jenna let out a little huff as she picked up a map and squinted at it before deciding which way to turn at the next intersection.
An honest to goodness paper map.
The car she’d found in the garage was a small pickup truck with a shell on the back. Maybe she was reduced to using a paper map to stay off the grid but the truck had been filled with Rubbermaid bins containing all sorts of lovely essentials.
Sam would have cackled over her delight at finding clean underwear.
But she’d been a little more intimidated by how all the clothing were the same brand and style as what she’d had in her dresser drawers.
Crap … Dare was still giving her a buzz.
In that sharp-as-hell way he operated.
The truck itself was a decade old. It ran smooth as a whisper though and didn’t have a single on-board computer. She’d found a little bin of CD’s on the passenger seat floor to keep her company as she drove across the country.
“Now for the big moment…” she muttered as she made a few more turns and double-checked the address. It was a newer tract home. Jenna pulled up into the driveway and happily climbed out of the driver’s seat. The exterior of the place was a tan stucco, and one of the keys on her ring fit into the front door. The plants were immature along the whole block giving the place a very new-to-the-world feel.
Inside there was the delightful feeling of air-conditioning. She closed the door behind her and noted the empty space. It was a three-room house and the only furniture was a bed and a dresser with a television sitting on top of it along with a washer, dryer, and refrigerator. Everything was brand new, the warranty information laid out for her, the sheets still in the package and sitting on the mattress just waiting for her to make the bed.