“Now, we need another vehicle. This Escape would give us away. We need something entirely different.” He turned onto the highway that had brought them to the McClarnons’ and headed back into Lafayette. “I saw a rental car agency back by the funeral home, the same agency chain I got this SUV from. We’ll stop there and trade it in for something else.”
“Fine. And then what?” She shot him a glare, and he squirmed in his seat. She would make a good lawyer someday very soon.
“Then we find someplace safe.”
It didn’t take long at the rental agency to trade the Escape for a Toyota Corolla in blue crush metallic. Hannah gushed over the color before he ushered her into her seat and closed the door. He stepped a few paces from the car to check up and down the street, but it didn’t appear that they had been followed. Now, if that thug’s cohorts came looking for the Escape, they would reach a dead end.
As he slid into the driver’s seat, his phone jabbed him, a reminder that he needed to call his supervising agent and report the shooting. He would want to be involved in the questioning of the perp. Derek closed the driver-side door, and the intoxicating floral scent of Hannah’s perfume or shampoo or whatever it was—just her sweet essence, maybe—assaulted him.
“Does this car remind you of something?” Hannah turned to him. There was no twinkle in her eye, no smile crinkling her nose, but she was ready to lead him through a memory.
She probably didn’t want to think about their situation anymore, and this would provide a distraction. That was fine for her, but a distraction for him could be deadly for them both. He twitched his nose and shook his head to clear out all other thoughts than keeping her safe.
“No.” He turned the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel, figuring he ought to play along. “Should it?”
“The car you drove in high school.” She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What? I drove a 1990 black Pontiac Grand Am. This one’s blue, in much better shape, and has an entirely different interior.” She must be really worried if she was grasping for memories.
“Okay, but it still reminds me of your old car. You there and me here. Out for a drive.”
“I can’t believe that old Grand Am drove as well as it did. It was a good car but the previous owner obviously hadn’t been kind to it.” He chuckled ruefully. “It had flooded some time before I got it and, although I cleaned it up as best I could, it was still just a heap of junk after sixteen years. But it was the only one I could afford with my five hundred dollars from shoveling snow and mowing lawns.”
“We had some good times in it, driving to get ice cream, having deep philosophical discussions.”
“At least as deep and philosophical as teenagers can get. I remember mostly complaining about the amount of homework.” Too much homework had kept him from having more time with her.
Hannah clasped her hands together in her lap. “Weren’t we foolish? Was complaining just a state of mind? We got our diplomas, went on to college and look at us now.”
Derek checked the rearview mirror as he gained speed, just like he needed to speed out of her life after this assignment was completed. He had wanted to go to the same college as Hannah, continue their relationship and not have to hide it. But then Mr. McClarnon had told him to stay away, and he had opted for community college in another town. By the time he had returned to Heartwood Hill, the McClarnons had moved their business and their home to Lafayette.
In hindsight, he and Hannah had been foolish. Foolish to fall in love. Foolish to think that they might have had a future together.
Hannah’s soft voice broke into his thoughts, but she spoke as though she didn’t realize he could hear her. “We had some good times together.”
Derek pressed a hand to his chest, trying to still his increased heart rate. He remembered those moments well. But now?
Hannah had made it clear that she would rather be an unmarried lawyer than marry a young man from her social circle. And Derek had been told in no uncertain terms that he didn’t belong anywhere near that social circle. Besides, he had a great career ahead of him with the FBI. His dream job. Neither of them was in the market for a relationship. Not with each other. Not with anyone.
Case closed.
They drove in silence for several minutes. Derek took the opportunity to pray for God’s wisdom in his first assignment and for Hannah to understand and accept her adoption, trusting the Lord to make His will known.
He also called Square and apprised him of the events that had unfolded at the McClarnon mansion. Hannah was still secure, although Derek was disappointed that he couldn’t identify their attacker. The agent praised his work and cautioned him to stay safe and keep checking in.
Hannah was still quiet, and he thought she was praying as well, until she turned toward him. “I know what to do next. Find out more about the circumstances of my birth. Then find my birth mother.”
FIVE
Hannah pulled her hair across her cheek, twisting her finger in it, surreptitiously watching Derek as he steered the Corolla onto the interstate. He had matured well, and he was definitely a handsome man, turning heads wherever they went. But he had changed in the ten years since she’d known him. He was hardened. Not exactly stoic, but unmoving and less tender than he had been with her. Maybe it was his law-enforcement background. Maybe it was the end of their relationship. Maybe he was still sweet underneath the tough exterior, but he just refused to let it out. He was on the job, after all.
And that’s all she was to him now. A job. An assignment.
That was good, right?
Derek settled the vehicle into the middle lane behind a large semi, then punctured her with a sideways look. “What do you mean, find your birth mother?”
She tapped on her phone to bring up Google, then entered a search for the Chicago Tribune around her birth date. “My birth mother was in danger. She gave me up to keep me safe from somebody. Maybe there was something reported about whatever happened to her. I’m searching the archives of the Tribune to see if there are any articles.” She scrolled down the pages of the newspaper. “I’m just glad it’s online. I wasn’t sure what I would find.”
He drove in silence for a couple of miles, then asked, “Anything?”
“Nothing. Maybe a smaller community newspaper? You said the FBI had a man on the inside of the crime family. Where are they located?”
“All over the place. And we don’t know where the event that culminated in your adoption took place. Do you know the names of any of the smaller newspapers?”
She stared out the window. “No.” Were they at a dead end before they’d even begun?
“What about a general Google search for newspapers in the Chicago area?”
“Yeah, that should work.” She tapped again, and soon a list of less than a half-dozen newspapers came up, complete with links. But when she clicked through, the websites didn’t provide any archives. “I found some newspaper names, but the online issues don’t go back far enough. Are they too small to be completely digital?”
“Maybe. We’ve become so accustomed to everything being available online, I’m not sure how to search next.”
Hannah laid her phone in her lap. “The public library. With my librarian friend, Tallulah.”
“I know you want more information, Hannah. I’m curious, too. But my assignment is to keep you safe.”
“Good. I appreciate that,” she retorted. “But you can keep me safe at the public library, can’t you? It’s public. Lots of people.”
“Well, the library in downtown Indianapolis would be quite a distance from both your parents’ house and the offices in Heartwood Hill. I suppose it could be a good place to hide out for a while.” He clicked on the turn signal and moved into the right lane.
“The way I see it is that I have the mos
t to lose. That makes me the most motivated to figure out what’s going on. I can’t just sit around and wait for news. I need to do something. To feel productive. I need to find my birth mother, or at least find out what happened to her. That could lead us to know for sure who’s been shooting at me.” While they were stuck in the car together, she would continue her direct examination. There was no place for him to go or hide. “How much does the FBI know about our past?”
“I was assigned to you because I’m from Heartwood Hill. They thought that my knowledge of the area might give me an advantage.” He paused. “My supervising agent knows that we were friends in high school. That’s it.”
“Oh.”
“I’d just completed the academy and expressed my interest in investigating organized crime. Now, I’m here.”
“Why organized crime?”
He scrubbed a hand over his chin. Something difficult was coming, and Hannah wanted to put a comforting hand on his arm. She fisted her hand instead, to keep it in her lap.
“You know I was raised by my aunt and uncle, right? My parents died when I was a teenager.”
“Yes, you told me that much in high school. That’s how you came to be in Heartwood Hill. You never explained anything further.”
“My parents were killed in a shootout. They were caught in what was believed to be a Mafia hit.” A vein ticked in his temple. It was a distressing memory for him, of that Hannah was sure.
“Mafia? Are you sure?”
“Yes. The facts don’t lie.”
“I’m so sorry, Derek. That’s just...awful.” So that was it. Derek wanted to right the wrong of his parents’ murders by fighting organized crime with the FBI. But a fresh tremor of fear for her situation struck her with the word Mafia.
She hugged her arms tight around her middle, not caring that the seat belt was cutting into her neck. From what little she knew of the Mafia, they had nearly unlimited resources. She flipped the visor down to look behind them in the vanity mirror. Was anyone following? Surely Derek would monitor that. He had said that he would keep her safe. But she couldn’t just wait for strangers to straighten out the mess that her life had become.
“Well, given the present circumstances, wouldn’t it be helpful to know why I wasn’t safe before, and why I’m apparently not safe now? Plus, if my birth mother is still alive after all these years, she’s probably in danger as well. We need to get to the library and start researching ASAP.” Tallulah would know what to do.
Derek sighed. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And if we find anything, it might be helpful to the investigation.” He pulled into the exit lane for Meridian Street and headed south toward the main branch of the public library.
“Thank you.” This time, Hannah did lay her hand on his forearm and immediately regretted it as warmth flowed through her and a fierce pang of longing shot straight to her heart.
The public library was a monstrous structure of stone and glass, six stories of stacks of books and study tables and private carrels. It was the perfect place to hide. It had been when they were in high school, studying on a Friday night, and Hannah couldn’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t be now.
Every inch of Derek seemed on alert as he pulled into the underground parking garage and craned his neck to look in all directions. Hannah glanced around as well, but all seemed secure. Besides, who would dare to attack them in such a public place?
The elevator deposited them on the first floor, and Hannah made straight for the reference desk. Tallulah stood behind it, but she was turned to the side, on the telephone.
“You still come here?” Derek kept his voice low in respect of the other patrons.
“Every Friday night. It’s been a practice and I just can’t see any reason to stop.” Her palms slicked against her skirt, and she swallowed down a sensation she hadn’t felt in a while. Not since the last time, years ago, when Derek had walked into the library by her side. It had been the last time she had ever spent any quality time with him. They had graduated a couple of weeks later, and she had seen him on the other side of the crowd. But then he had disappeared. “I study. I read. I wander the stacks and run my hands over the book spines. They have a little coffee shop now, so sometimes I have a coffee with Tallulah.”
“Who’s this Tallulah you keep mentioning?”
“She’s a reference librarian and also an adjunct professor at the law school. She teaches legal research and writing. I can’t tell you what a blessing it’s been to know her. I suppose she’s a kind of mentor.” Hannah hitched her purse higher on her shoulder. “Actually, Tallulah is a big part of why I wanted to go to law school. She made the law sound fascinating, each person and each case as a story to be read, analyzed and applied.”
Derek halted in the middle of the oversized dome-shaped foyer, his shoulders stiffening and his shoes squeaking softly on the floor as he turned in a three-sixty. Hannah pulled up short to stand next to him. “What is it?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here. Brings back a lot of memories.”
“Yes.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. She reached for his hand, and he held it as they stood together, looking around. When she had begun law school and returned to their Friday-night study habit, memories had flooded her. Her heart had agonized over the loss of him every single Friday until she thought she couldn’t come any longer. But eventually, the sensation wore off. She had forced herself to push thoughts of him aside and focus on her legal studies. Tallulah’s friendship had helped.
“I always thought of the library as ground zero for our relationship.”
“How so?”
“This was our home base. Our hideout. Our starting point. If we had studied in Heartwood Hill, we would have seen people we knew, and everything would have come out. And if we ever did reveal ourselves, there would have been an explosion.”
Hannah bit the inside of her cheek, pondering what he’d just said. Had there been an explosion that she didn’t know about? Was that why Derek had disappeared?
Tallulah spotted them and waved. Hannah quickly slipped her hand from his and waved back. Whatever had caused their breakup, she wouldn’t be able to discover it now. One shooter had been apprehended at her parents’ house, but there could be other men who would come for them soon enough. The FBI hadn’t told Derek that they were out of danger. That was the more immediate concern.
“Well, well.” Tallulah eyed Derek up and down, a knowing look marching across her countenance. “It’s not Friday yet, is it?”
“Not yet, but we need to do some research.” Hannah leaned on the counter.
“Glad to see it’s we again.”
Furrowing his brow, Derek shifted his balance next to Hannah. “What do you mean?”
Tallulah clicked her nails on the desk. “Oh, I was here. How many years has it been? Nearly ten? But I saw you every Friday night. You just didn’t notice me, because you only had eyes for each other.” A sly smile slid across her mouth.
A pink haze began to spread up Derek’s neck, and Hannah figured she had a matching shade. She had had no idea that anyone had noticed them. Tallulah winked at Hannah, sending her the full force of her knowing grin.
Words failed both of them as awkwardness invaded, but Tallulah seemed pleased as Punch. She shifted to pick up a stack of hardback books. “I have the books you were asking about a couple of weeks ago.”
“Since I’m on summer break, I wanted to read some legal suspense.” Hannah turned to Derek, eager to switch gears. “Tallulah was kind enough to find the bestselling authors for me.”
“Good.”
The librarian handed the thick tomes to Hannah. “They’re already checked out to your account.”
“Thank you. But what we really need is help with some research. We’re looking for news from the Chicago area from about
twenty-five years ago. I found the Tribune online but couldn’t get any of the smaller papers.”
After one long look at the two of them, Tallulah came from behind the counter. “Sure. That’ll be in the basement.”
A long flight of wide steps led them to the lower level, a cavernous space with deep red carpeting, more book stacks and long rows of partitioned desks. Lamps stood sentinel along the desks, a few turned on but most of them dark. It could have been cozy if it wasn’t so creepy.
The librarian led them to a wooden table with a microfilm reader. “Because of your time frame, you’re finding some newspapers digitally. Others you’ll have to find on microfilm. About twenty-five years ago, newspapers began creating their copy digitally. If the copy was created originally in digital form, then it’s easy to get online. If it wasn’t, you’ll have to find it the old-fashioned way. On microfilm. Getting older newspapers in digital format is time-consuming and expensive. Obviously, that’s easier for the big papers like the Tribune than for the small papers with a more limited budget.”
“Okay. If we each search the various Chicago papers, it’ll go faster.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Tallulah gestured toward drawers labeled with various years. “These are filled with microfilm of original newspapers. Since Chicago is so close, we have all the editions. They’re in chronological order, of course.” She turned to Derek. “Why don’t you get started here, and I’ll show Hannah how to use the reader.”
He nodded and studied the years on the drawer labels.
The microfilm reader was several steps away, and as Hannah sat, Tallulah leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You don’t seem yourself. Distracted. A little nervous. Is everything okay?”
What should she say? Hannah desperately wanted to honor her mother and father. They obviously hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was adopted, and she wanted to abide by their wishes. But also, if she told, would Tallulah be in danger then as well? She definitely didn’t want to put the librarian in the line of fire.
Deadly Disclosure Page 7