by Kari Lemor
Steve looked around, his eyes flicking from place to place, his jaw tense. “I can’t give you any information. I’d lose my job if I did. Maybe you should head up to Canada and live a nice life up there. I doubt Cabrini would follow you out of the country. He has enough problems right here in this country.”
“My son is here and his mother,” Jack said, his jaw clenched tight. “I can hardly take them up to Canada with me. Cabrini thinks Jonathan is his grandson. I don’t think he’d let them go. He constantly tries to convince Callie she should move back to New Jersey with him. He doesn’t like having to travel a few hours to see Jonathan. There’s no way he’d let her go any farther.”
“She’s not in Jersey anymore?” Steve looked curious. “I haven’t kept tabs on her since she wasn’t giving us any more info. Where is she now?”
Jack trusted Steve but too many things had happened to tell him everything. He already knew more than he should. Not that he couldn’t get information on her with the Bureau resources if he wanted to. “It doesn’t matter where she is. She’s not helping us with Cabrini. It’s far too dangerous for her, especially now that she has a son to think of and protect.”
Steve pursed his lips and Jack knew he needed to persuade the agent to help him. He needed to know what evidence they had on Cabrini and do some digging into who could be working for him. Reaching into his pocket, he scrolled through his phone, hoping he could get some sympathy help.
“This is Jonathan.” He kept his emotions in check when he gazed at the picture of his son. It wasn’t always easy. The feelings were so strong. “I hate that I can’t be with him. You’ve got two kids. Can you imagine if someone took them away and you couldn’t see them except a few times a year? And they could never acknowledge you existed.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the picture. “He looks just like you. How has Cabrini not noticed yet?”
“Angelo had dark hair and strong features too. I guess you see what you want to see. Plus it’s been over two years since he’s seen me. Maybe he’s forgotten what I look like.”
Steve snorted. “Not fucking likely. You killed his son. People like Victor Cabrini don’t forget things like that. All right, I’ll help you. But if you get made by any of the guys from the Bureau, don’t mention my name, got it.”
“Thanks, Steve, not a word. I don’t plan on getting caught though. How can you get me the info?”
Steve reached into his wallet and pulled out a card. “Give me time to collect the information without anyone else knowing. I’ll get you everything I can. Call me in the next week or so and we’ll set up a meeting. You can name the place.”
Steve looked up and tilted his chin. “That’s Gerry, my new partner. You better split. He’s a good guy and he’s curious about your situation. Asked if he could help. But maybe now isn’t the time to introduce you two.”
Jack shoved the card into his pocket and eased past the bushes with a muttered, “Thanks.”
* * * *
“You mean Jack slept here after the party?” Heather stared at her friend, her eyes wide, a grin splitting her face. “Was it as good as before?”
“Heather.” Callie glared at her. “I said he stayed here, I didn’t say we slept together. He slept on the recliner.” It had been two weeks since Jonathan’s party and she kicked herself each night when she climbed into her lonely bed.
Heather frowned and her brows knitted together. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Callie got up to refill her teacup, but mostly to keep her friend from seeing her pink cheeks.
“You’ve been in love with the man for years. You have a child together. He’s gorgeous and you haven’t had sex since Jonathan was conceived. Why did he sleep on the recliner and not in your bed?”
Taking her time to stir sugar into her cup, she responded, “Actually, Jonathan was conceived about a month before Jack left. I hadn’t realized I was pregnant yet.”
“You’re evading the question, Callie.” Heather pinned her with an intense gaze. “Are you telling me the man had no interest in sleeping with you?”
Callie sat down still stirring her tea, hoping to avoid the conversation altogether. Why had she even mentioned this to her friend? Heather was tenacious when she wanted something, like information. It had come in handy in the past. But Callie had never lied to her. She’d been too important in her life for far too long.
Callie looked up. “Oh, I’m sure he had an interest, but he didn’t act on it.”
Heather sighed. “Honey, listen, you either need to get over him or do something to get Victor out of your life so Jack can come back in.”
“How in the world am I supposed to do that? Victor Cabrini has judges and senators in his pocket. Plus cops and FBI agents. He’d kill me in a second if he knew I was trying to get evidence on him. If he ever found out I ratted him and Angelo out to the cops before, I wouldn’t last very long. And then where would Jonathan be?”
Reaching over, Heather patted her hand. “I noticed you didn’t even consider the option of getting over Jack Holland.”
Callie looked at Heather, glaring at the mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You did that on purpose.”
“Yeah, I did. I needed to see how serious you were about Jack. I don’t expect you to go digging into Victor’s private files. Definitely too dangerous. Although if there’s ever anything you overhear when you’re visiting…”
“Oh, right, I’ll just cruise into FBI headquarters and let them know. I’d probably end up talking to the agent who works for Victor. That wouldn’t be signing my death certificate or anything.”
“Too bad you didn’t know any other FBI agent you could trust?”
Callie sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you’re talking about Jack, forget it. He doesn’t trust anyone in the agency anymore. They basically turned their backs on him. And he can hardly do something by himself while he’s on the run. It’s a hopeless situation.”
“So, you’ll simply pine away for a man you can’t ever have and never try and find anyone else.”
Heather was getting worked up but she didn’t know how much Callie needed to keep her promise to Jack. She had never been sure her parents loved her. They were gone too much to show her, and when they were home they had spent most of the time discussing what she was doing in school and how she should start going with them.
Jack loved Jonathan. She could see it in everything he said and did. She didn’t ever want her son to think his father didn’t care. Someday she’d have to explain the situation but for right now he was too young to understand. But he wasn’t too young to feel his father’s love.
“I promised Jack. I need to keep that promise. Getting involved with anyone else would be dangerous. I’d have to tell them the truth and trust them not to say anything. I’m not ready to take that risk.”
“I know, honey, but sometimes love is all about risk.” She leaned back and smiled. “But let’s talk about why you didn’t even grab the hunk you had here and kiss him. Just for old times’ sake.”
Heat rushed to Callie’s cheeks and she cursed her fair skin. Heather saw it and her eyes lit up.
“You did do something. You can’t lie to me, Callie. We’ve been friends too long. So, holding hands, a hug, a kiss, what? Give, girl?”
“He held me for a few minutes after the Victor incident. I was totally freaked out and he could see my hands shaking.”
Heather sighed. “Was it nice?”
Moisture filled Callie’s eyes. She couldn’t do more than nod. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Before he left, when Jonathan was napping, he held me again and kissed me.”
“Did you want him to?”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of Jack’s lips on hers, his hands caressing her skin. “He gave me plenty of time to pull away, but I didn’t. I knew I sho
uld but I couldn’t. It was always that way with Jack. He makes me forget all common sense.”
“It’s called love, honey.”
Heather’s voice was strange and Callie looked up to see her friend’s eyes watery as well. They were definitely getting maudlin if Heather was on the verge of tears.
The ring of her cell phone interrupted any other conversation. Jonathan was at preschool and she rushed to grab it in case he was having a problem. When she looked at the screen, the number had her eyes going wide.
“Who is it?” Heather rushed to her friend’s side.
“It’s Jack.”
* * * *
Callie exited the bus and looked around self-consciously. Jack had called and said he needed her help. No, he wasn’t in immediate danger but he had some information he wanted her to look at. It had been too delicate to send any of it online. Reluctant at first, she’d conceded when he said it could help put Victor away for good. Heather’s little rant about taking chances hadn’t hurt.
Leaving her car at the Park and Ride in Danbury, she’d taken a bus into the city. New York driving wasn’t her favorite thing to do. It was one of the reasons Angelo had insisted his chauffeur take her back and forth to work when she’d gotten her first job. If only he’d known.
They’d arranged to meet at the Columbia Circle entrance to Central Park. The place was always crowded and hopefully they could get lost in all the people. Zipping her gray sweatshirt up higher, she shivered, thinking maybe she should have worn a heavier jacket. It was the beginning of October and fall was well underway. She shoved her hands in the pockets and turned to find Jack standing right in front of her.
“Come on, Callie,” he said, taking her elbow and leading her away from the entrance. “Let’s find someplace a bit more private.” Live music attracted a crowd and Jack led her away from it.
They walked for a few minutes until they were shaded by some trees and surrounded by flowering shrubbery. A small bench sat in front of the bushes and Jack led her to it.
“Thanks for coming to meet me. I appreciate it. Where’s Jonathan right now?”
“Heather’s picking him up from preschool. You didn’t want me to bring him, did you?”
Pain crossed Jack’s handsome features but he shook his head. “No. Not that I don’t want to see him. But this isn’t the place for him right now.”
“What do you need from me? Is something wrong? You sounded a bit tense on the phone.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he dug inside his denim jacket and pulled out some folded papers. Opening them up, he put them in her lap.
“I contacted Steve Bishop, my old partner, and asked him for the information they have on Victor. This is some of what he gave me. I wanted you to look at it and see if you recognize any of the people in these pictures.”
She flipped through the papers, checking out the pictures. At some she nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen a few of them at Victor’s house. He never introduced me to any of them, but these two,”—she pointed to two distinguished men in black suits—“they drove up one time as we were leaving. Victor didn’t seem real happy about it though. He shuffled us off quickly, like he didn’t want these guys to see us.”
“They work for the syndicate in Boston, kind of rival mob bosses. How about these names? Do any of them ring a bell?”
She spent the next fifteen minutes going through the sheets in her hand, Jack asking questions. The wind picked up, causing her to shiver so she flipped her hood over her head.
“Are you cold? Here, take my coat.” Slipping off his jacket, he draped it around her shoulders.
“I’m fine, Jack. I should have worn a warmer coat. It’s my own fault. I don’t want you to be cold.” She looked at his light blue button-down shirt, admiring the way it molded to his wide shoulders and tapered waist.
“I’m fine, Calico. Looking at you keeps me plenty warm.”
Her cheeks heated and she wished things could be different between them. Why couldn’t they have met and dated like every other normal person in this world? Then they could live together in her cozy, little house and raise their son together. Her dreams weren’t huge ones, why were they so impossible?
She slipped her arms into his jacket and he buttoned it up, tucking her wayward curls inside her hood. Leaning into the warmth of his hand, she closed her eyes as he caressed the side of her face. Don’t do this. Look at what it led to last time. But now they were in a public place so making out was hardly appropriate. Although, looking around, it was quite secluded.
They discussed the information for a few more minutes then she folded up the papers. She smiled at Jack as he tugged on one stray curl that had escaped its confines. The wind blew in again, taking the papers from her hand and they both lunged for them. As they moved, a whizzing sound splintered the air, sailing past their heads. What the hell? Callie whipped around. Jack grabbed her waist and pushed her to the ground, his body covering hers.
“Someone’s shooting at us.” His eyes darted around the trees. “We need to get out of here.” Scooping up the papers, he shoved them inside his shirt and pulled on her hand. He slid his arm around her waist and muttered, “Keep low and stay by my side.”
The trunk of the tree next to them exploded, splintering shards in their direction. A scream slipped from her lips and she grabbed Jack’s forearm tighter, running alongside him. He pushed at her back, keeping himself between her and the direction of the shots. She kept her feet moving, waiting for more to come. The entrance of the park grew closer.
“We need to get to my bike. It’ll be deep shit if they’ve got something ready to roll.”
Her heart pounded and her lungs tightened as she stomped a rhythm on the grass. The buzz of another few bullets whizzed past but they were almost to the entrance. Would it matter?
Jack stumbled, his hands tight around her waist. Shielding her with his body, he pulled her in closer. “Shit! I thought we’d lost them.”
A sob escaped. This was danger. Finally Fifth Avenue appeared and Jack pulled her down to hide between two parked cars.
“Bike’s over here. Stay low.”
His motorcycle? Crap, it couldn’t protect them from bullets. Jumping on, he threw her the helmet. “Put this on and hang on tight.”
Sliding behind him, she shoved the helmet on, then pushed down the visor. The motorcycle roared to life as she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his muscled back. The wind tore at her clothes as they pulled away and she caught sight of a tall, bald man running in their direction. Twisting her neck in the large headgear, she saw no evidence of a weapon, but his long coat could have hidden an arsenal. Jack gunned the engine and swerved into traffic so abruptly she tipped to the side almost falling off.
God, was she having a heart attack? The tightness in her chest increased. People had been shooting at them. Shooting at them. Or shooting at Jack with no care about her?
Cars and people flew past, horns honked and light bounced off the metallic surface of vehicles and buildings. She held tighter to Jack’s waist, her hands in a death grip on his shirt. His solid warmth kept the world from spinning too fast. He slowed the bike down. Too many cars surrounded them. Zing. What the hell? Her head snapped and a loud ping echoed through her helmet. Turning, she spotted Baldy from the park leaning out a side window of a black sedan a few cars back. Damn, his gun was trained on them. Had the bullet hit her helmet?
“Jack!”
He accelerated, zooming around the corner. Too close. Brakes squealed and people shouted. Couldn’t they see this crazy man trying to kill them?
Her neck ached with the weird position but she needed to keep an eye on the sedan, now a half dozen cars behind them. She dug her fingers deeper into Jack’s shirt. Buildings, people, vehicles, all moving too fast to register any details. Where the hell were the police? But Jack had a price on his head and V
ictor had police officers on his payroll. Not a good option.
Jack made a sharp turn onto a side street and her grip tightened. Had they lost Baldy and whoever was driving? No luck, the sedan remained behind, now only a few cars back. Damn, the traffic was lighter today for some reason. Jack slowed, a line of cars stopped in front of them. You spoke too soon. He steered the bike in between until they had a good ten car lead.
They took off again but the sedan caught up when the traffic began to move. This guy sure knew how to drive in the city. He was almost on them when Jack gunned up the on ramp to the highway heading south. Not sure this is a good idea. At least in the city they could get into places the other car couldn’t.
“Jack,” she yelled. Could he even hear her with all the noise from cars and the roaring of the motorcycle? “Won’t the side roads be safer than the highway?”
“Hold on tight and watch this.”
Chapter 9
Jack sped up the on ramp, merging into traffic with the sedan right on their tails. A few more shots rang out and Callie couldn’t stifle her screams. Moving over to the left, he got into the faster moving traffic. Her eyes swung to the road in front of them. The cars were all slowing down. Construction signs flashed on the side of the road.
Crap. They were stuck in stopped traffic. Her eyes scanned the nearest sign. Next exit, a mile. Baldy now leaned out the back window behind the driver’s seat aiming for them as they approached in the right lane. And Jack was slowing the bike down. What the hell? Go in between the cars. It’s a tight squeeze but we can do it.
He slowed still more. What was he doing? They’d be killed. The balance of the bike shifted. The Jersey barrier. Right there. A break in it. Was he…?
Yes, he pulled a U-ey. Right onto the highway heading north. He straightened the motorcycle out as the wind ripped through them, racing down the near-empty road in the opposite direction. She twisted enough to see the sedan, well and truly stuck. Baldy’s face contorted in rage, his hand holding the gun out the window.