Run to You
Page 17
“What if we’re seen?”
“Well, my captain’s pretty pissed off with me so this will most likely see me back in uniform on traffic control.” A lopsided grin appeared, his blue eyes almost twinkling. “I think it’s worth the risk, don’t you? The food, I mean, is out of this world.” He threw her another wink.
“I hope you’re right because I’m starved.” She withdrew her hand from his and picked up the menu again, hiding her smile.
The waiter approached with a glass of chilled beer that Jack had requested and a glass of ice water for Liz. She had decided to give wine a miss tonight after her performance the other night. It was such a relaxing atmosphere she didn’t feel in need of any stimulants. In fact, she wanted to remain completely clearheaded and remember every moment of this new level of intimacy between them. It seemed kind of surreal, the two of them here chatting about mundane things, from what kind of films did she like to how he was a great baseball fan and that he would take her to a game sometime. As long as it wasn’t American football. No fan of English football, she doubted she would succumb to the American version. Gandini, Shaun, the bank were taboo subjects and for this one evening she could be herself and pretend she had nothing to fear or hide, that all that bad stuff was happening to someone else.
Crispy duck, prawn crackers, sesame toast, and a wide assortment of starters came and disappeared, followed by sizzling beef, sweet and sour pork, chicken and bean shoots, special fried rice. There was so much, Liz felt Jack had ordered nearly everything off the menu though he assured her he hadn’t.
“You haven’t told me about your hidden talent yet?”
Liz paused from trying to lift a king prawn with her chopsticks. “What talent might that be?”
“I came across some of your sketches and that ruined painting of an English landscape. I noted the signature.”
The life sketch she had done of him lying on the bed naked came to mind, causing a small smile. Hopefully he hadn’t come across that one. “I studied art for quite a few years, got a degree, surprisingly, but there’s not much income to be had from painting pretty landscapes and portraits.” Giving up on the prawn, she took a sip of water as she thought back to that tragic point in her life when everything had collapsed around her, including her aspirations of being an artist. Jack noticed her melancholy straight away.
“I’ve gone and done it again. Upset you, I mean.”
Liz shook her head and gave a halfhearted smile. “It was a sad period in my life. My parents were killed in a car crash and in my grief I lost all desire to draw or paint. I had secretarial skills and had done temping work all through college, so I fell back on that and the rest you know.”
“That’s when you met your fiancé?”
“Ex, and yes, I met him when I went to work for Michael Anderson in the London office. Simon was a financial advisor there and I worked alongside him for a short while. When he moved to another financial establishment, we started dating seriously.” Talking about Simon didn’t hurt like it should, seeing they had been together for five years. After what he had done she should hate him, but she didn’t feel that either. It was simply indifference. Her attention returned to spearing another prawn followed by more noodles. It was a diversion now rather than satisfying hunger, as she was feeling pretty full. She knew Jack wanted her to continue. He was watching, waiting and his next question proved he knew she was hiding something.
“Why have you refused to give evidence against him in his embezzlement trial? He stole everything from you from what I read, even re-mortgaging the house you owned from money received from your parent’s life insurance.”
As she pushed her plate to one side, he must have noticed, through the look she threw back at him, her indignation at this sudden cross-examination, because that was what it felt like.
“I’m sorry, Liz, but you must realize that as a potential witness, everything concerning your past would have been looked into and not by me, I add. It lands on my desk and as the investigating officer involved in the case, I’m expected to read it.”
“Perhaps I’ll have that drink now. A large one,” she added.
Jack called the waiter over and ordered a brandy for her and a coffee for himself. When the drinks arrived, the silence between them nearly had Liz downing the fiery liquid in one. She resisted the urge and took a sip. Finally she summoned up the courage to tell Jack why, what Simon did, equalled out against how she used him. Yes, he had done all those things to her, but that dreadful day when he had broken down and confessed all, how he had gambled away everything, her, his career, and his self-respect. The crying and begging for her forgiveness might have made her sway in not leaving him in such a dreadful state. This need for confession and redemption might have ended there, but instead he wanted to get it all out, resulting in his admission to cheating on her with a close friend. The vase luckily missed its target, but her anger at this betrayal knew no forgiveness.
She stopped toying with her empty glass and glanced up to deliver her final admission. “You see, afterward, I was relieved and realized I was angrier with myself for not ending the relationship years earlier instead of carrying on because I was scared of being alone. As for pressing charges, he has enough to deal with, seeing he stole a lot more from others to fund his gambling addiction.”
Jack reached over and took her hands. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“No, but then I might have questioned your motives. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about you, Jack and when do I get to hear that guitar of yours?”
His cell phone sounded yet again. Of the three earlier rings, Jack had looked to see who was calling and then ignored it, claiming it wasn’t important. This time though he glanced at it and excused himself from the table as he took the call. When he came back, his grim features told her the evening was about to end abruptly.
“I’m sorry, Liz. We’ve got to go.” He helped her on with her coat and went over to speak with Mister Ling who stood behind the small bar area.
She watched as he took out his wallet and then saw the Chinese man wave the money Jack was offering aside. He looked almost affronted. Jack finally accepted his refusal and shook his hand. The helping out in the past must have come mainly from Jack, she guessed, by the respect Mister Ling obviously held for him. They walked to his car in silence, making Liz wonder what he was going to do with her now that he obviously had to be somewhere.
“Jack, what’s going on?”
He waited until they were both in the car before replying. “That was my partner on the phone, Danny Stone. He’s in attendance at a homicide and thinks I should take a look.” He turned his head and looked at her. “Someone shot that creep who broke in this morning, Angel, execution style. Don’t get me wrong, the world’s a better place without him, but he was last seen leaving your place and then he ends up hanging halfway out of his car with a hole in his forehead.”
Her mouth fell ajar in disbelief. “What are you trying to say, that I might have something to do with it?”
“No.” His voice was raised. “Of course I don’t think you’re involved. What do you take me for?”
She could see he was as angry at her assumption as she was. He reversed his car out into the side street and put his foot down, joining the busy Canal Street by nearly running a red light.
“When I disappeared today from my apartment, it was to meet up with a work colleague in Central Park. I had to get out, talk to someone I trusted, especially after how you behaved with me this morning.” She carried on talking, knowing by the muscle twitching in his cheek that she was making him madder but couldn’t help herself. Always in the back of his mind was that tiny flaw of distrust he still held toward her or all women maybe, but it was there. She could sense it and hear it in his tone despite his angry denials, so she continued, “Her name is Lorraine Johnson. Check her out. She will confirm my whereabouts. I should have taken her advice and got on the next flight out of here.”
�
�Unless you want to get us both killed, shut the hell up and let me concentrate on driving. We’ll talk about this later. I’m going to meet up with Detective Stone and you are going to remain in this car and talk to no one, understand.”
Like she had a choice. Folding her arms, she leaned back in the seat and stared ahead, her lips sealed. She recognized from the signs that they weren’t far from her apartment locality, but it was through unfamiliar backstreets that he drove, an area she certainly wouldn’t venture into alone. Finally, he entered a seemingly deserted street full of lock-ups and windowless units used for storage. It was nearly dusk and of the several streetlights, only two worked. As Jack drove further along, she could see the flashing lights from blue and white patrol cars and the area ahead became lit up with bright artificial lighting. Pulling his car up to within a couple of feet of the scene but away from the reach of the light beams, he turned the engine off. The uniformed and plainclothes personnel milling around the black sedan wouldn’t be able to see her—he had made sure of that. It didn’t stop a large dark-skinned man, on seeing the car pull up, from walking toward them. He was wearing a dark suit and Liz could see the gold metal shield attached to his lapel, the same type that Jack wore.
“This won’t take long,” Jack stated as he opened the driver’s door and started to get out. He was about to slam the door shut behind him but it was too late. A huge hand reached out and held the top of the door frame, preventing Jack from shutting it.
“You going to introduce me, Jack, to your lady friend? Especially since I’ve been covering your ass with the captain for most of the day.” Despite his words, the tone was friendly and as he peered around the side of the door and looked in the car, he smiled across at her.
“Elizabeth Saunders, meet my partner, Detective Danny Stone,” Jack finally replied.
“So you’re the little lady that has got Jack here acting all crazy-like.”
Liz could see Jack frowning and glaring back at her from behind his partner. What was he afraid of, that she would say something detrimental or personal as a way of hitting back? Had he told his partner about her, that he had sex with her, even boasted about it? No, Jack wasn’t like that or at least she had to believe he wasn’t. If she found out the opposite was true, then she would never be able to trust or love a man for the rest of her life. It was this thought that made her realize how hopelessly in love she was with Jack and yet he did not hold the same level of trust in her. His look told her so, and her silence and returning look confirmed the disappointment she felt toward him.
Removing his partner’s hand and positioning himself so Detective Stone had to back up, Jack slammed the door shut and Liz watched the two men walking toward the crime scene exchanging words.
It was nearly forty-five minutes later that Jack finally returned to the car. She had witnessed the medical examiner leave and the bagged-up body being removed, not that she could see much from where she sat. Finally a trailer arrived to remove the sedan and the area, though left cordoned off with tape, became deserted.
He apologized for being so long and then drove to his apartment in silence. Liz wanted him to say something, anything, like whether he thought this latest murder was linked to the bank heist. In the end she couldn’t hold the silence any longer. As he turned the engine off, the words burst forth.
“What’s going through your mind, Jack? Tell me, I want to know. What do you think I’m guilty of now, because you do, don’t you—”
“Stop it, Liz.” He cupped her face and was holding her glare with his intense blue gaze. “This has nothing to do with you. I’ve got a lot on my mind, killings that might be connected or coincidental, leads that end up going nowhere, and a hell of a lot of unanswered questions, none of which I think you can help with or should be involved in.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“What do you want me to say, Liz? I can’t tell you what I do and think the whole time. I’m a blasted cop. It’s my job and unlike going to the office, I can’t come back to you and say hey, sweetheart, guess what I saw today. This time it wasn’t some innocent victim lying there with their brains blown away, but it doesn’t make it any less sickening. It’s ten times worse though when you see a young life snuffed out—robbed, raped, or both.” He released her face and gripped the steering wheel instead, even though the engine was dead and he wasn’t about to go anywhere.
“What I’m trying to say, Liz, is it isn’t that I don’t trust you, but what you want from me I can never give.”
For a moment Liz was stunned into silence. Slowly her hand came up and covered his. “You’ve made a start. That’s all I’m asking, for you not to shut me out completely.”
Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her long and hard.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack didn’t like leaving Liz again, alone in his apartment, but he still had a job to do and that involved meeting up with his brother. Joe might be able to help him out because if anyone knew what was going on within organized crime, he would. The Organized Crime Intelligence Division didn’t leak anything they didn’t want out on the streets and the word was Gandini’s freedom was about to expire.
He pulled up adjacent the diner he had arranged to meet in. It was neutral territory seeing neither wanted to be seen in the other’s place of work. Jack spotted Agent Joe Willis seated in a booth near the back. As brothers, they didn’t look alike. Joe was two years younger with their mother’s dark Italian features while Jack took after their fair-haired, third-generation Irish father. What a combination, no wonder war was declared within the marriage. Jack walked over and took a seat opposite. The waitress came over and he ordered a double burger, fries, and a coffee. Two hours spent with a woman who drained him both physically and emotionally meant he was ravenous for sustenance.
“Just an espresso for me.” Joe smiled at the waitress as she scribbled it down and walked off. “What’s this all about, Jack?”
“Gandini. His file has been flagged and I’ve been warned to stay away. What’s going on?”
“I thought you were investigating that bank heist and if you think Gandini’s outfit is involved, forget it—not his MO.” Joe leaned back, his arms folded across his chest.
The waitress came over and placed their orders down. Once she had left, Jack spoke, “No, he wasn’t directly involved but it was his safety deposit box that was targeted and whatever was in it, he wants back badly. Any suggestions?”
Joe unfolded his arms and leaned forward. “Shit, no wonder he’s pissed. I’ve no idea what he wants with a safety deposit box, unless to hide what the Feds and us will come looking for, when we finally pull him in, and Jack…” He leaned in closer. “This goes no further. It’s between you and me.”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“It’s about to happen any day now. For once we’re working alongside the Feds on this. When we do, all his bank accounts, assets will be frozen except, that is, the ones that count, the numerous secretive offshore accounts where all the unaccounted money waiting to be laundered goes. If he took out a safety deposit box, what better way to hide details of the untraceable?”
Jack leaned forward also, careful there were no eavesdroppers. “Yeah, maybe, but it wasn’t such a big secret seeing someone else knew about it and surprisingly, Gandini hasn’t a clue as to who. All he knows about is the guy who did the job, not the one who arranged and set it up.”
Sipping his coffee, Joe looked deep in thought.
Deciding the food smelled and looked too good to ignore any longer, Jack started tucking in. He had left Liz behind looking in the fridge and asking whether she could fix him anything before he left. Nothing would have brought him greater pleasure than for him to remain in her company. The food would have been immaterial. His hunger was for one thing only when she was around.
“A recent newcomer to the firm is his nephew, Sonny Valachi. Not much is known about him, unlike his uncle. Rumor is he’s pretty smart and ambitious. He only came to our attentio
n when he was caught on camera meeting with one of Mahonney’s mob, who was under surveillance.”
On hearing Mahonney’s name and remembering he was O’Riley’s landlord and sponsor, this was the link Jack had been after. “Do you know what the meet was about?” he said with his mouth full.
“No, the place wasn’t wired, unfortunately.” Joe screwed his face up as Jack took another big bite of his burger. “That stuff will give you an early coronary.”
“I’ve given up smoking. I don’t touch the strong stuff, as you know. Don’t make me forgo all of life’s pleasures.”
“Yeah, I heard about you and Christina parting. She was a great girl. Any chance the two of you getting back together again?” Joe raised his eyebrows.
“It’s been over for several months now. Last I heard she had hitched up with some rich lawyer.” It was funny—she had walked out on him, he should be the one hurting, but the only thing he felt was guilt that he didn’t feel upset. Sure he missed her humor and she had always pleased him sexually, but when he was away from her she wasn’t in his thoughts like a drug he could never get enough off. He was thinking of Liz and whatever she had done to him had turned his whole control on life upside down. He wanted her, needed her, and could even imagine spending the rest of his life with her.
“Jack, are you okay? Look, I’m sorry about bringing up Christina.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine about it. Anyway, back to business.” He finished his coffee and ordered another. Joe refused a second cup. They continued chatting about the heist though Jack was careful to keep Liz’s name out of the conversation. He trusted Joe, but from now on he wanted to distance her as much as he could from being linked. The fewer people who knew about her forced involvement the more likelihood there was of the district attorney not trying to build up a case against her. The captain had so far kept a tight lid on what was leaked and that’s how he wanted it to continue. If the press got hold of even her name, her whole life story would be laid bare whether they thought she was innocent or not.