by The Saint
"And?" He steered to avoid a pothole in the gravel road.
"And, to top that off, going into this project I had planned to use diskettes to transport the information to O’Shea. But when I tried a dry run that first night and Eddie scanned my disks, I knew that method wouldn't work. I had to come up with an alternate way to get the information out."
"I don't get it." He checked the rear view mirror as he asked, "What did scanning them prove?"
"Leonard had apparently encrypted Templeton's programs." At Jake's blank look, she clarified, "It's kind of like a signature embedded randomly in the files." Searching, she came up with a cop-appropriate analogy. "Similar to a fingerprint that acts like a silent alarm that can identify confidential files."
"Lenny might be damned smart about computers, but that's sure as hell where his brains come to a screeching halt." Jake swerved around an abandoned tire. "O’Shea just told me they got the lab report back on your death threat." He faced her. "I'll give you one guess whose fingerprints were all over it."
She touched Jake's shirtsleeve the moment it hit her. "Leonard's?"
"Oh, yeah." Jake tightened his grip on the steering wheel at thought. "I'd say Lenny the Loser was just trying to scare you off. If my hunch is right, Wallis is in this up to his eyeballs, and that's why he jumped at the chance to point a finger at us."
"You think Lenny was working against Dirk?"
"According to O’Shea, not too long ago Templeton crossed territories with another mob family. Ever since then, they've been looking to put Templeton out of business. You do the math–Wallis is the weakest link with the strongest brain. I think we probably just beat Lenny at swiping Dirk's files."
"So that's why he tagged the programs."
"And?" Jake asked, watching Courtney check her watch for the umpteenth time since they'd started for home.
"Lenny's encryptions made taking out information on a disk impossible," she told him, recounting the dead ends she'd run into. "And since Eddie practically strip searched me on the way out at night, that eliminated sneaking a disk out. I had to rack my brain–again–and come up with another way." Courtney grabbed the dashboard as Jake negotiated a tricky turn in the winding country road.
Eyes straight ahead, he asked, "Which was?"
"Well, you remember that morning when we stopped by your apartment so you could change clothes?"
"Yeah."
She offered him a sip of her coffee and pulled out another oatmeal cookie. "That's when I thought about using a modem to transfer the information."
"I don't have a modem," he pointed out, then took a drink.
"No, but you do have call forwarding," she told him between bites. "I know because I checked your phone to see if you had that service." His sidelong glance caused to falter, but just for a beat. "Don't get your boxers in a bunch. That was when I thought you worked for Dirk. I planned on getting in and out of the system, and I never really thought anyone would have time to check. But if they did, I figured your phone number would be the perfect cover. Why would a phone call made from Templeton Enterprises to one of their employees arouse any suspicion?"
"Maybe because they never phoned me." Jake passed her the cup and rolled his shoulders to ease the kinks settling there. "Templeton always paged me."
"How on earth was I suppose to know that?"
"You weren't." He hoped his honest answer would help resolve her guilt. "So, what does all this have to do with Barry?"
"Barry, the guy I was . . . well, my ex–"
"Now don't be shy, Sweetness." Jake decided a little teasing might ease the tension that had gathered at the corners of Courtney's mouth. "If Barry's still your man don't be embarrassed to say so."
"My what?" she huffed, raising her voice several octaves. Only the mischievous spark in Jake's eye and Courtney's warm, passionate memories of last night tempered her surly defensiveness and saved his butt. Male territorial pride, she concluded. Just Jake's way of finding out where he stands.
Courtney's exasperated ire made Jake chuckle.
"Like I was saying," she continued, "my apartment was way too obvious. That's when I remembered Barry's modem. I'd used several times before–" Waving her finger in Jake's face, she warned, "Don't even go there, Ciora."
Appeased enough by her obvious agitation, Jake bit his tongue, but said nothing, allowing her to carry on. Not that he could have stopped her.
"So, I routed O’Shea's records through your call forwarding and dumped them in to Barry's system."
"Then Barry's address is the one you had me give O’Shea?" He finally left the secondary road and pulled onto the highway. "Because…" he coaxed.
Courtney sighed. "Because, as much as I'd like to believe my plan is fool proof, I know it's not. At least not one hundred percent. I do know it's damned good, but Leonard's no slouch either. Given enough
time, he'll be able to crack it." Knowing Templeton the way Jake did, he checked his watch. "Would over twenty-four hours and a .357 magnum in Lenny's ear be incentive enough?" "It'll be close, Jake." Courtney set down the thermos cup and raked her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I just hope we're not too late, that's all."
Looking at Courtney, Jake understood her pain. He knew exactly what it was like to be in a race against time to save an innocent person's life. Unfortunately, he had learned the hard way that sometimes you can beat the clock…and sometimes you can't.
"Don't worry. Barry will be just fine," he assured her, not himself. "O’Shea will see to that." "It's not just Barry." She faced him. "We've got to get to that computer before Templeton does. He can't get away again. Not when we're this close." "Oh, we'll beat Dirk to the files, Sweetness." Jake bared down on the accelerator, hoping he wasn't lying through his teeth. "You can count on that." The expressway seemed endless to Courtney, and every monotonous mile they drove tightened the
knot in her stomach. She flipped on the radio, then turned it off. Static certainly wouldn't calm her nerves. "Talk to me, Jake," she badgered, folding and refolding the top of the brown paper bag. Plagued by an impending sense of déjà vu, the last thing Jake wanted to do was chitchat. But the
concern in Courtney's eyes and the strain in her voice drew him out. "Okay, Babe, what do you want to talk
about?" "Anything." She eyed him suspiciously. "Anything?" he asked, never doubting for one minute that she had something specific on her pretty
little mind. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Once you found out I was going to work at Templeton’s, why
didn't you or Uncle Brian tell me that you were the undercover cop on the inside?" Courtney never had pulled punches, he remembered all-too-clearly. "My call," he admitted. "Didn't you trust me?" she asked a lot more casually than she felt. He shook his head. "Trust had nothing to do with it," he told her honestly. "Then what did?" "Your knowing could have further complicated an already ridiculously complex situation." "How?" Courtney prodded, doing her best to pin him down. He changed lanes to pass a slow moving station wagon, loaded to the hilt. Dad and Mom up front.
Three kids. A back filled with pillows, blankets and suitcases. Bicycles strapped to the roof. A family on vacation, he thought absently. Until a twinge, smacking strongly of envy, punched him hard–in a spot that hadn't been touched for a very long time. Jake tried to pass off the unfamiliar sensation as hunger pangs, or pre-bust adrenaline, but there was a part of him that knew better. The instinctive side that had pulled him out of the old neighborhood when it would have been far easier to stay. The smart side that had enlisted in the Navy. The same caring side that had chosen an underpaid, overworked cop's life over a lucrative life of crime.
"In a situation like this, the less a civilian knows, the better. For both himself and the officer," Jake explained. "The fact that we already knew each other made us vulnerable enough. I couldn't risk more."
"Well, I'd never presume to tell you how to do your job," Courtney began, not entirely certain that statement was true. "But, it seems to me this cas
e would have gone a lot smoother if I hadn't spent fifty percent of my time trying to lose you."
Jake laughed. Somehow the thought of Courtney trying to shake him, seemed funny. Lack of sleep, he reasoned. "Well, Sweetness," he drawled, still half amused. I guess I could say the same, since I spent most of my time running interference for you."
Not entertained in the least, she asked, "Honestly–why couldn't we have worked together, as partners?"
Even the word sobered Jake. "When I lost my partner"–he sat up a little straighter in the seat–"I made a conscious decision to work alone."
The pain on his face, the sadness in his eyes and in his voice, caught Courtney off guard. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"It's no secret." Jake shrugged, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Juan and I were like brothers. We graduated from the Academy together and partnered up shortly after. We spent every day covering each other's backs."
For one of the few times in Courtney's life, she hesitated…to ask…or not to ask? Without pushing for details, she went with her instincts. "What happened?"
"Juan had pulled a drug assignment, but his snitch was hinky. She didn't like me–big time. Didn't want both of us working the case."
Courtney crossed her legs and turned toward him. "Since when do informants call the shots?"
"That's exactly what I said." His smirk was bitter. "Do you remember how you felt bad vibes out there in the woods when that car passed us?"
Courtney shivered at the thought. "Yeah."
"Well, to me, this chick's vibes were so bad, I couldn't believe Juan didn't feel them, too."
"But he didn't agree?"
"Nope. Not this time." Jake rolled his shoulders. "Juan swore she was righteous. He trusted her."
Courtney kicked off her shoes and waited for him to continue.
"If the bust had panned out, it would have made Juan's career. What she'd promised him was that big."
"But it didn't."
"No." Jake took a breath. He'd never talked about this to anyone. Not even the Force's shrink–no matter how many visits they had forced him to schedule. But for some reason, telling Courtney felt okay. So, after six long, lonely months, Jake finally said the words out loud. "She set Juan up, and her piece of dirt, gangster boyfriend blew my best friend's brains out."
Courtney sucked in her breath and reached for his arm. "Oh, Jake."
"Juan and I'd had it out earlier that day. I had a feeling the deal would go down wrong, but he didn't believe me. Said I worried too much. Told me to stay out of it. But I didn't. I couldn't shake the bad taste in my mouth, so I followed him anyway. I got there just in time to hear the gunshot. Just in time to see him die in that filthy alley.
Everything happened so fast…yet it seemed like slow motion. I remember running toward Juan, knowing the shooter must have been on one of the roofs. But that didn't stop me. I got there just in time." Jake cleared his throat. "At least he didn't have to die alone."
Courtney felt the warm tear shimmering at the corner of her eye trickle down her cheek. Knowing nothing she could say would be enough, she unhooked the seat belt and slid next to Jake. She slipped one arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. The thanks Jake whispered against her hair hadn't been necessary, but Courtney knew she would never forget it.
They rode along in silence. So much had been said. So much hadn't. As soon as the view through the windshield changed from freshly plowed fields to a breathtakingly irregular skyline, traffic increased significantly, and Courtney left Jake's side and buckled up.
"Do you know how to get to the Belmont Harbor Apartments?" Courtney asked, checking her watch and slipping her feet back into her shoes.
"Yep. It's that high rise across from Belmont Harbor, just off Lake Shore Drive on the north corner. But once we get there, I'm handing you over to O’Shea."
"Excuse me?"
God, there was that tone again. That in-your-face attitude that had been pleasantly absent for the past few hours. "You heard me."
"Surely I was mistaken," she insisted, still trying to assimilate the phrase–handing you over.
Before she could argue, Jake swore, "If you think for one minute that I'm letting you walk into this–"
"Letting me?" Courtney came up off her seat, as far as the restrictive belt would allow. "Letting me?" she repeated, unable to spit out anything more incredulous than that. "Back off, Jake. You're way out of line."
Jake muscled the pick-up through two fast moving lanes of traffic before turning to her. "It's too damned dangerous."
"I'm in," she announced, ignoring his warning.
"You're not in," he told her flatly. "You're a mother for Christ's sake."
"And you're a father!" she shot back. "But you can't do my job."
"Dammit, Courtney. Let the police take it from here." He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, then lowered his voice. "Don't fight me on this."
IRVING PARK 1 MILE
Jake saw the sign and decided taking the Irving Park exit would probably be faster than Belmont. But for the first time in his life, need threatened to out weigh his sense of responsibility. For two cents he would say to hell with Templeton and keep on driving.
FOSTER AVENUE 1/2 MILE
What was the worst that could happen if he did? Templeton would get off. What the hell, Jake smirked silently. The world was full of Templetons. How bad could one more be?
LAWRENCE AVENUE NEXT RIGHT
And then he looked at Courtney. Her face filled with emotion. Cheeks flushed. Eyes bright. Certain they were going to make things right for Janey and the rest of her family. His family. She was why he couldn't keep on driving. Why he had to make that damned turn. So, with a small amount of regret, but no reservations, he flipped on his turn signal and exited the expressway.
Because whether Jake wanted to admit it or not, the moment Courtney walked back into his life, she blurred the uncompromising line he'd drawn between want and need. And whether Jake liked it or not, for the first time in a long time, he was not alone anymore.
"Look, Jake, I won't be by myself." She placed her hand over his, gathering his attention. "You'll be with me. So will Uncle Brian. And unless I miss my guess, there will be cops all over the place." She paused, giving him time to consider what she had said. "All I'm going to do is pull the information off Barry's hard drive and put it on a disk," she explained.
Still unwilling to take a chance with her safety, Jake shook his head. "You can do that tomorrow,
once Dirk is in custody." "No, actually, I can't." This time she shook her head, but his thunderous expression caused her to
quickly add, "At least I don't know if I can or not." "Give it to me straight," Jake said, certain he would regret asking. "What haven't you told me?" "If Lenny encrypted those files, he could have–now mind you I'm just saying could have done other
things, as well." "Such as?" "Well, he could have infected it with…oh, I don't know…maybe…atimedelayedvirus–" "A what?"
Damn, she'd tried to say it really fast. Make it sound like a technical term to avoid what she knew would be a major hassle. Too bad it hadn't worked.
"A time delayed virus," she repeated–clearly this time. "It's like an time bomb." She clasped her
hands together, trying her best not to think about what she was telling him. "Once it's activated–" "And what sets it off?" he interrupted. She cleared her throat, hoping to minimize the impact of her words. "Well, it could be– "Exactly, Courtney," he demanded, knowing the moment Courtney hedged, that was the time to
push. Busted again, she gave in. "Downloading information without an authorizing code can activate it."
There she'd said it. Jake muttered an oath. "For God's sake, don't expect the worst," she snapped. "I didn't say Leonard sabotaged the disk,
because I don't know if he did or not. I just said it was possible. That's why we shouldn't wait until tomorrow to dump the information."
Jake drummed the ste
ering wheel with his fingers. He liked calling the shots. What he didn't like was being backed into a corner. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when his hands were tied. "Looks like you're going to have to do it today."
"That's what I said in the first place," she muttered, gazing out the window. “On one condition," he finished. Her head snapped around at the softened tone of his voice. His dark eyes held her gaze, but gently
this time, almost pleadingly. "What's that?" she asked, thinking at this very moment she might promise him anything. Knowing they were getting close to Barry's address, he squeezed her hand. There were so many things he wanted to say, but right now what he needed to tell her took priority. "Once we get there, you stay with me and follow my instructions, verbatim."
"Trust you." It wasn't a question, but she gave him her answer anyway. "I trust you with my life."
Chapter 12
>All Jake had ever wanted from Courtney was her trust. And now that he had it, he couldn't stop thinking–careful what you wish for. Dangerous circumstances had gotten him exactly what he'd asked for– plus a whole helluva lot more.
His damnable internal clock had already started a countdown. Time was running out, and his cop instinct, the one that had saved his butt more times than he cared to remember, was ticking off warnings so loud that he could barely think.
Too many variables.
Too many people.
Too many risks.
Jake couldn't shake the unease that squirmed restlessly beneath his skin. And maybe, for now, he shouldn't even try. Maybe he should hold on to any and everything that might hone his edge.
Knowing they were within fifteen minutes of Barry's place, Jake braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of adrenaline. "Promise me, again, that when we get there you'll follow my orders," he urged, without asking.
"I will." And she would. Courtney might lack Jake's experience, but she would never underestimate the extent of Templeton's reach, or the magnitude of his power. She also understood that she had crossed him. It didn't take a genius to figure out men like Dirk didn't take kindly to being suckered by anyone, especially a woman. Or a cop.