Running Scared

by Desiree Holt

  Zak studied the man, his posture, the lines that had deepened on his face. He almost—almost—believed the man’s sincerity. If he wasn’t such a suspicious bastard, he’d probably be all in. But he’d gotten where he was by never trusting anyone, except those closest to him

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll tell you again, Ivan. Wherever Zoe is, she isn’t with me.”

  Ivan looked at him with sad eyes. “The police have been to my office three times today. They are camped out at my sister’s house. And they are getting impossible to reason with.”

  “Somebody’s put the fix in,” Zak told him.

  “I would hate to believe that, but I do not know what else to think.” He studied Zak for a long moment. “You have no idea what’s going on here, young man. The repercussions. Like a pond with ripples that keep reaching out farther and farther. There are bad people after her, Mr. Delaney. Very bad people. They would like nothing better than to hurt me and my family. Zoraya is a key member of that family. It’s up to me to protect her and everyone else.”

  Zak lounged back in the chair, crossed one leg over the other, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. “I assume you’re referring to the Russian mafiyah, the organization everyone avoids mentioning. Had Nate Dunning been involved with them? And if he was, why did you introduce him to Zoe?”

  “I have spent years distancing myself from any contact with these people. I like to think I’m smart enough to avoid any traps they might set for me. But this one was very well camouflaged. Nate Dunning’s family have been clients of my firm for a long time. No way did I think he was mixed up in something this nasty.”

  “I think we both know Zoraya is no murderer. That someone set her up. Why? And what did Nate do that got him killed?”

  “I wish I had those answers.”

  “If you really want to help, then find them. Get me the information. Maybe we can get her out of this situation.”

  “I know I could have done this on the phone, but I always think things like this are better discussed in person. And perhaps I could persuade you to share with me whatever you know about this. We could combine our resources.” Demoff pushed himself from the chair and held out his hand. “Let’s keep in touch. I’ll keep my ear to the ground if you do the same.”

  “Count on it,” Zak told him.

  The man walked from the office, and Zak wondered just how much of what Demoff said was the truth. He was either a man caught in a trap or the world’s biggest bullshit artist. Zoe’s life could well depend on which one it was.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zoe had hoped to see Zak before he left in the morning, but even though she was out of bed by seven, he was long gone. Frank was in the kitchen filling a thermos when she wandered in there, looking for some sign of Zak’s presence.

  “He had the helicopter pick him up at six, Miss Lombardo. Said he needed to get an early start.”

  “Please call me Zoe.” She found a glass in the cupboard and poured some orange juice from the refrigerator. “Did he say anything before he left? I mean, about what was happening?”

  “No, ma’am. He sure didn’t. I know he made a bunch of calls on his cell while waiting for Marty to get here. That’s all I know.”

  “Is… Did he… Do you think he’ll be home for dinner again?”

  Frank’s smile was so kindly she wanted to cry. “I’m sure he will unless he gets caught up in something. He’s got good people working for him that he can leave in charge of things.”

  “Well, then.” She dredged up an answering smile from somewhere. “I think I’ll get back to the computer.”

  “Serita will be here in a few minutes, so you can count on her forcing food on you.”

  Zoe gave him a half-smile. “I’ll be a blimp if I stay here too long.”

  Frank’s gaze appraised her. “Not meaning any offense, but I think you’ve got a long way to go before approaching blimphood.”

  Zoe felt herself blushing as she carried her juice to the den and booted up the laptop.

  She was missing something, and she just didn’t know what. It felt like the answer was sitting at the back of her mind, waiting for her to knock it loose, but the harder she tried, the more difficult it got.

  Today she started again with the very first simulation she’d written after Nate came on board. She had gone over it so many times she’d didn’t think she’d ever forget the strings of code. Yesterday’s efforts hadn’t produced anything, but maybe if she looked at each strand from a different angle and compared it with the ones pulled off the Lombardo simulation computers, she might figure out what she was missing.

  Her problem, she decided after the first hour, was that she was too distracted by thoughts of Zak. She had no idea how to bridge the gulf that had opened up between them again. Last night, although he’d been completely circumspect and neutral, she’d seen a flash of feeling in his eyes. Then he’d tamped it down and the moment was gone.

  Once she solved the problem with the programs, once she was out of this hellhole of a predicament she’d fallen into, her major project would be to restore Zak’s faith in her. And hopefully revive the love they’d shared.

  She heard Serita moving around in the kitchen. Not that she was hungry, but a bite of food could clear her head. And maybe Serita could give her a clue to the riddle that was Zak Delaney.

  ****

  Zak and Morales had been at it for two hours when they finally took a break. The detective had been as good as his word, sharing what he had with Zak, which admittedly was very little. Once the police had received the tip about Zoe, they hadn’t bothered to look at anyone else.

  “No one wanted to poke around in Nate Dunning’s life,” he told Zak. “Too many people owe him favors. And those same people don’t want the world to know they’re connected to him if there’s something that proves he wasn’t what he appeared on the surface. You have no idea the pressure we’re under to close this and make it go away.”

  “She’s innocent,” Zak told him in a flat voice. “I have proof.”

  Morales’s ears perked up. “Yeah? What kind of evidence? And where did you get it?”

  “You want to know what I’ve got, or you want to play twenty questions?”

  “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s have it.”

  So Zak told him about the rohypnol, the nitrate test, everything.

  “Why didn’t you come to me with all this? Why didn’t you tell me about it when I came to your house?”

  Zak made a rude noise. “You’re kidding, right? All you wanted was to put a noose around Zoe’s neck. You wouldn’t have listened to a thing I said. And even right now, you don’t have anything to go on except hearsay. You’re not in a very good trading position.”

  “I’ll give you that. That’s why I’m here. So what do we do now?” Morales asked. “I know you’ve got her stashed. You can’t hide her forever. My boss wants her, and truthfully, Zak, I don’t want to turn her over to him. It’s like you said. They want the easiest solution, and she’s it.”

  “We need to figure out who really wanted Nate Dunning dead,” Zak told him. “I’d say it’s the same people who blew up her house and her business, wouldn’t you?”

  “I guess I have to agree. Do you have anything on Dunning himself? We’ve been told hands off as far as prying into either his business or personal life.”

  “Well,” Zak said, smiling, “fortunately, I don’t work for the police, nor do I have to play the political game. I’ve had my people digging up everything they could find. Let me tell you how Dunning International came into being, and two men who played a major role in Nate’s life.”

  Morales listened while Zak gave him chapter and verse on Caz Morgan and Max Detwiler, along with his suspicions about the people on the party guest lists.

  “That could be why some guy from Homeland Security was locked up with my lieutenant and the chief this morning.”

  “Yeah? Well, he’s coming here this afternoon. Want to hang around? Maybe he can
answer some of the questions I can’t.”

  Morales’s eyes widened. “You want me to sit in on your meeting with this guy?”

  Zak gave him a humorless grin. “Better than letting you go back to your office and get squeezed by the brass.”

  Carol brought sandwiches and soft drinks in the middle of the afternoon, and Zak and Morales were in the act of eating when the phone on Zak’s desk rang.

  “Delaney.”

  “I didn’t use the Intercom,” Carol told him, “because I wasn’t sure if you’d put me on speaker and I’m not sure you want to broadcast everything to your guest.”

  “Good thought. What’s up?”

  “I have Jay on one line for you and Larry Blake on the other. Who do you want first?”

  “Give me Larry and tell Jay to hold on.” He waited until he heard his agent’s voice. “Got something already?”

  “It was easier than I thought, once I figured out who to ask. Dunning’s list of visitors is pretty innocuous. At the top of the list are Morgan and Detwiler. Most of the others come from the big parties he throws and an unbelievable succession of women. The guy must drink testosterone.”

  “So nothing there,” Zak guessed.

  “Not at the house. But Caz Morgan has a ranch south of San Antonio, one that he doesn’t invite his usual friends to visit. I asked Jay to pull up what he could on it. I hope that was okay.”

  “Whatever will get us the answers we need.”

  “It’s a huge spread, and the house is set about a mile in from the road. Nice and private. And I guess he needs it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Morgan’s visitors include people whose faces are on the national watch list. In some cases, the international list.” Larry’s voice hardened. “People from countries we’re not even supposed to talk about, let alone meet with their representatives.”

  A sick feeling grew in the pit of Zak’s stomach. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was. Want me to keep digging?”

  “Yeah. Get as many names as you can, then call Jay on a secure line and feed them to him. Tell him to pull up profiles on every one of them.”

  “Consider it done.”

  As soon as he disconnected Larry, Carol switched him over to Jay.

  “I may have something for you.” Jay Browning’s voice was edged with controlled excitement. “Want me to send it to your computer or bring it up?”

  “Both. I may have questions.”

  “Okay. See you in two.”

  Zak had barely finished explaining things to Joe when the door to the office opened and Jay slipped in, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He looked at Morales and frowned.

  “It’s okay,” Zak assured him. “We’ve got a new team player.”

  “You’re the boss.” He took the chair next to Morales. “I’ve got the Demoff profiles for you, but either they’re very good at hiding things or they’re just pawns in the game Detwiler and Morgan are playing.”

  “What did you find?”

  “Sergei is fourth generation. Studied law at Columbia like his father did and went right into the firm. Likes women and gambling, but both in moderation. They handle all the business for Dunning International, but DI is only one of about two hundred clients.” He cleared his throat. “But Sergei belongs to a private club, and guess who he hangs out with?”

  “Caz Morgan and Max Detwiler?”

  Jay nodded. “And some other Russian characters. Here are their names.” He handed the list to Zak. “I’m running profiles on them right now. This is all connected, boss. I’m just starting to pull the threads together.”

  “Let’s see what happens when Keith and Nina report on their assignments. And Larry’s working on this same project. In fact, you should be getting some information from him to look into pretty quick.”

  “Okay. I’m back to it.”

  “What was the call you got before Browning showed up?” Morales asked.

  Zak watch the blood drain from the detective’s normally ruddy face when he summarized Larry’s report for him about Morgan’s visitors whose names were on the watch list.

  “Holy crap. What was Dunning doing with these people?”

  “My guess? Something that involved Lombardo Simulations. And definitely something they didn’t want Zoe to know about. But again, what do they want? Selling pirated computer games is a big business, but not big enough to play footsie with these folks.”

  “And why kill off the golden goose?” Zak wanted to know. “Dunning was a great front man.”

  “I think somehow he suddenly turned into a liability. I think they discovered they needed to get rid of both Zoe and Nate and figured out a way to get it done.” He fixed his gaze on the detective. “Don’t get me wrong when I say this, Joe, but they set this up and the cops bought it hook, line, and sinker.”

  “I told you the kind of pressure we’re getting,” Morales began.

  A knock on the door interrupted them, it opened, and Carol slipped inside. She walked over to Zak and handed him a white business card.

  “Allen Fairchild, Homeland Security. Right on time for his appointment.”

  “Should I leave?” Morales asked. “You must have someplace you can hide me.”

  Zak shook his head. “No, I think it’s better if you stay. I have no idea what he’s going to say, but you might be able to fill in some blanks.”

  Morales grunted. “All I’ve got is blanks, but I’m happy to do what I can. I just want this whole business over with.”

  “Fine. Send him in, Carol.”

  Allen Fairchild was definitely no nonsense. He handed his card to Zak, frowned at Morales, but the frown disappeared when they were introduced and he handed a card to him, also.

  “I’m sure you’re very curious about why I’m here,” he said to Zak, taking the chair next to Morales.

  “You could say that.” Zak kept his voice even and uninflected. But curious didn’t begin to describe how he was feeling. “Do I need to get my partner into this meeting, too?”

  Fairchild shrugged. “If you think it’s necessary.”

  “I think he’d also want to know what Homeland Security wants from Guardian.” He picked up the phone and dialed Reno’s direct extension. When his partner answered, he said, “How about coming down to my office. You can help me enjoy a visit from the government.”

  “The government? Didn’t you pay your taxes?”

  “Very funny. I think it has to do with my current situation. If I’ve brought something down on the agency, I want you to be briefed all the way.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “This really isn’t about Guardian,” Fairchild told him when he hung up. “It’s about Zoraya Lombardo.”

  Zak made his face a carefully bland mask. “What about her?”

  “Let’s not play games, Mr. Delaney. Just because the two of you broke off your relationship some time ago doesn’t mean she wouldn’t call you if she was in trouble. But that’s only part of it. Let’s wait for your partner so I only have to do this once.”

  ****

  Serita knocked on the study door about one o’clock to tell Zoe she had some lunch ready for her and ask if she wanted to eat at her desk.

  “No, actually, I think I’d like to eat on the back porch if that’s okay,” she told the woman. “I saw a little table with two chairs out there.”

  “Good, good.” Serita smiled at her. “You need some fresh air.”

  The back porch was wide and ran the length of the house, with a wide railing and colorful pots of flowers at either side of the steps. Serita’s work, Zoe was sure. The two hands were working the cutting horses in the corral again, and in a fenced area of pasture just beyond them, about a dozen horses pranced and loped, their coats glistening in the sun. A soft breeze carried the scents of fresh cut hay, horseflesh, and sycamore trees.

  If things were different, she could be happy here for the rest of her life. But first she had to break down the wall tha
t Zak had built up again.

  Lunch was a delicious salad, with a tall, frosty glass of iced tea and warm tortillas. Zoe dawdled over it, letting her brain air out, trying not to think of anything. Hoping whatever she was grasping for would come to her.

  A buzzing noise caught her attention, and she looked up to see a black speck in the sky. Was that the Guardian helicopter? Had Zak decided to come home early for some reason? Her stomach flopped as the thought of bad news struck her. Why else would he be heading for the ranch this early in the day?

  She started to walk to the railing and wave when Frank came across the yard at a dead run.

  “Get back in the house,” he yelled. “Hurry. Right now?”

  Zoe stood for a moment, puzzled, then jerked herself out of her trance and hurried inside. After her stupidity with the telephone, she wasn’t about to ask questions about anything.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked Frank as he slammed the door and strode into the kitchen. “What’s happening? Wasn’t that Zak?”

  “I don’t know, I’m not sure, and no, it wasn’t,” he answered rapidly, adjusting the horizontal blinds on the kitchen window to block anyone’s view. “Stay away from the doors and windows.” He raced for the den and came back with a cell phone. “Zak keeps a lot of spares,” he told her in answer to her unspoken question.

  He held one button down, trying to control his impatience as he waited for an answer on the other end. Zoe leaned against a wall, nibbling on a fingernail.

  “Yeah,” she heard him say. “We might have trouble. A helicopter did a flyover, and it isn’t one I recognize. No, no markings. Uh huh. Hold on.”

  He put the phone down, ran back to the den, and returned with a pair of high-powered binoculars.

  “Stay way back from the window,” he told Zoe again. He adjusted the blinds to give himself a narrow space through which to look.

  “No problem,” she told him.

  He picked up the phone again and held it to his ear while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again.

  “No,” he said, “there’s nothing out there now, but that doesn’t mean anything. The only helicopters that I ever see overhead are yours and the weather chopper from the local television station. Uh huh. Yeah. Okay.” He disconnected and turned to Zoe. “The boss says he’s on the way and you’re supposed to stay out of sight.”