Grace picked up her purse and followed him out of the café. It was only when they reached the steps of her hotel that he spoke again.
‘You’ve got your room key?’
She nodded. ‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’
Jack’s dark eyebrows rose. ‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. I just meant coffee. I didn’t mean—’ She saw the flash of impatience on his face, and suddenly felt embarrassed.
‘Yeah, that’s right. I almost forgot. You don’t always mean what you say. I’ll see you tomorrow at one-thirty. He spun round and stormed towards his car.
Grace stood on the marble steps and watched him drive away. Twin spots of scarlet stained her cheeks.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jack climbed into the Explorer and gunned the engine. He glanced in the review mirror. Grace stood on the hotel steps watching him.
Damn it! I don’t need this!
He sped out of the car park onto Collins Avenue and nearly collided with a red Mustang. The driver sounded his horn and yelled obscenities. Jack ignored him. He couldn’t face going back to the condo and whatever awaited him there, instead he drove north.
Agreeing to help Grace had been a bad idea, a real bad idea. Hearing the pain in her soft voice made him want to pull her into his arms and hold her until the sorrow went away. But that would be stupid. He’d watched her struggle for composure and knew that one kind word from him would make her collapse like a marionette with cut strings.
He should have walked away, left her to sort out her own problems, but he couldn’t.
He’d been attracted to her from the moment of their first meeting. That hadn’t changed, and he wondered if it ever would. Whether it was her eager smile and easy-going manner, her radiant vitality or the gleam in her eyes that had caught his attention, he couldn’t say for sure. But his instinctive response to her had been so powerful that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since.
His instincts told him that he had too much to lose. His life was with Rosa and his beautiful baby daughter, not chasing after half forgotten dreams and desires.
Rosa. He’d never intended her to be a permanent fixture in his life. He certainly didn’t love her, not in the way a man should love his partner. And certainly not enough to marry her.
But Emilia, she was different. Nothing could have prepared him for the surge of love and joy he’d felt when the nurse placed her in his arms. She was so beautiful—so perfect—with her cap of wispy black hair and big blue eyes. He’d watched her take her first breaths and knew that he’d lay down his life to keep her safe.
She was only a few weeks old and already bore a strong resemblance to his elder sister, Charlotte, who by all accounts, had broken every teenage boy’s heart by the time she was fourteen. He had no doubt that Emilia would do the same.
He turned left and headed west onto Interstate 95. He kicked down the accelerator and watched the needle climb, when it settled on sixty, he set the cruise control. The traffic on the three-lane highway was heavy with commuters returning home from work. Out of habit, he glanced in his mirrors. A silver convertible sped past him. The driver was in for a shock. Jack had already spotted the cop car coming down the ramp and adjusted his speed. Sure enough, within seconds the cop had switched on his siren and was giving chase.
Jack wove through the traffic and took the off ramp. At the next intersection he turned right, then right again into the parking lot of a non-descript building. From the outside it looked like a warehouse, in reality it housed the FBI shooting range.
He showed his ID and signed in, then made his way through to the changing rooms. He swapped his jeans and T-shirt for a pair of coveralls, collected a pair of ear defenders, four clips of bullets, and a SIG Sauer 228 from the range manager then took up position in one of the booths. He adopted a shooting stance, and fired at a silhouette suspended from a wire twenty metres away. When he checked the target, his aim was off. He replaced the clip and was about to fire again, when the door opened and Mike Zupanik walked in.
Bald and a few pounds overweight, Mike was head of the Miami field office. He’d exchanged his normal work outfit of a three-piece suit for black coveralls. With twenty years service under his belt he was counting the days to his retirement when he planned to buy an RV and travel the country with his wife, Chrissie.
Jack watched the older man take aim and fire, hitting the target dead centre every time. When Mike paused to reload, Jack walked over to talk to him.
‘Hi, Mike. Nice shooting.’
‘Thanks, Jack. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be busy with your new baby daughter.’
‘I decided I’d get some practice in before my leave’s up.’
The SAC smiled. ‘More like you wanted to get away from all that crying. I remember what it’s like. Chrissie went months without a decent night’s sleep when our two were babies. The endless round of feeding and changing diapers, your life stops being your own for a while. Another week and you’ll be begging me to come back to work.
Jack nodded. ‘Mind if I ask you a question, Mike?’
‘Sure, go ahead.’
‘You’ve got kids.’
‘And two grandkids, don’t forget. David’s seven and Angie’s nine.’
Jack dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I wondered, after they were born did… did Chrissie lose interest in them?’
Mike snorted. ‘Hell, no. Hey, what kind of a question is that? You got problems at home?’
‘Rosa—she doesn’t pay much attention to Emilia. Doesn’t want to feed her, hold her or do anything for her. It’s not natural.’
‘You spoken to her doctor?’
‘Not yet.’
‘I’m no expert, but I know what Chrissie went through giving birth, and I’m telling you, I’d rather face a bullet than that kind of pain. May be that has something to do with it.’
‘Rosa had all the pain relief drugs known to medical science.’
‘Then I dunno. Maybe it’s that post-partum depression you keep hearing about. It happens sometimes.’
‘Maybe. Thanks for the advice, Mike. I’ll make sure Rosa gets it checked out.’ He patted the other agent on the shoulder and turned to walk away.
‘Aren’t you going to practice some more?’
‘No, I’ve left Rosa with Emilia for long enough. Better head back.’
‘Wait up. I know you well enough to know there’s something else bothering you.’
Jack frowned. ‘You’re right. You ever heard of an attorney by the name of Parous, Zachary Parous?’
‘Never heard of the guy. What’s up with him?’
Jack shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. A friend has an appointment with him tomorrow, and I said I’d ask around, that’s all.’
‘Make sure that’s all it is, Jack,’ Mike said curtly.
‘Don’t worry. I have no intention of getting involved in anything you don’t sanction.’
‘Glad to hear it. Any chance you could cut short your leave and come back to work? The office is short-staffed since Hayes and Santos transferred to Chicago.’
‘Sorry, Mike. But with things they way they are—’
‘That’s okay, I understand. Just thought I’d ask all the same.’
Jack returned his gun and ear defenders to the range manager, then left. Rather than take the freeway back to his condo in Coral Gables, he drove downtown.
The central business district was a mixture of high-rise luxury condominiums and modern office blocks, and home to the tallest building in the State, the Four Seasons Hotel. According to the card Grace had shown him, the offices of Parous and Associates were located on South Biscayne Boulevard.
He pulled into the kerb, and rolled down the driver’s window. A blast of sultry air filled the vehicle. He read the building directory etched into the wall at street level. Apart from Parous and Associates, the steel and glass skyscraper housed a bank, a collection of brokerage firms, international financial advisors a
nd a public relations company, as well as a number of luxury apartments.
One thing was certain; Parous was no two-bit lawyer to afford offices in such prime real estate. Jack’s gut tightened. Whatever Elliott had been involved in, it was bad news.
He put the car into gear and drove home.
Rosa was waiting for him when he opened the door of the condo. The first thing he noticed was the stain on her shirt. The second was that her generous full lips were compressed into a tight, thin line. He bent to kiss her cheek, but she deftly turned her head to one side.
‘You’re late. You said you’d be home by five.’
‘My meeting took longer than expected. And then I bumped into Mike from the office.’
Rosa’s husky voice took on a sharp edge. ‘What meeting? Damn it, Jack. You’re supposed to me helping me with the baby, not working!’
‘Her name is Emilia. She’s not just ‘the baby,’ Rosa.’
She clicked her tongue. ‘Okay, Mr. Metrosexual, Emilia. Are you happy? That little monster’s been screaming since you left. Driving me nuts. And who were you meeting, anyway? Out with some other girl?’
He flinched. How the hell did she know these things?
‘I met an old friend. She wanted my advice.’
‘What kind of old friend? You bastard! You’re cheating on me!’
‘Shush! Calm down or you’ll wake Emilia. Grace really is an old friend, nothing for you to get worked up about.’
Rosa folded her arms across her chest. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I don’t lie, Rosa, you know that. Now, instead of standing here arguing over nothing, why don’t you tell me how Emilia is?’
She shook her head. Her thick black hair tumbled loose from its clip. ‘I don’t know what to do with her. I fed her and she threw up all over my shirt. It’s silk. It’s ruined. The stain will never come out.’
‘Who feeds a baby in a silk shirt?’
‘I do, you asshole!’
‘Okay, you do. I officially give up.’ He groaned and walked down the hallway to the family room. He’d hoped that looking after the baby for a few hours would have enabled Rosa to bond with the child. He was obviously mistaken. Emilia lay on her back in the Moses basket. Her unfocused eyes stared at the mobile hanging from the frame. Then she saw him and cooed, favouring him with a gummy grin. He tickled her tummy and she gurgled. He turned back to Rosa.
‘She looks all right now. Probably ate too quickly.’
‘But what about my shirt?’
He closed his eyes and fought his anger. ‘Screw the shirt, Rosa. Is that all you can think of? If your clothes are more important than our child why did you go ahead with the pregnancy?’
She started shrieking in Spanish, and slapped him hard across the face.
‘Stop it.’ He placed a hand on her arm. ‘You know I can’t understand you when you speak so quickly.’
‘I said I only had the baby so that you’d marry me.’
‘And that’s not going to happen—ever.’
The blunt words made her flinch. She stared at him with something akin to disgust in her chocolate brown eyes.
‘You’re a cold bastard, Jack. I hate you! Jorge and Ramon told me about you.’
Jack looked at Rosa and wondered what he’d ever seen in her. ‘What do your brothers have to do with this?’
‘Jorge said that if I got pregnant you’d never marry me. He warned me. He was right.’
‘Warned you? Wait a minute—’ Then he realized that he’d been played. ‘Green cards. That was it, wasn’t it?’
Rosa said nothing, but hatred burned in her eyes.
‘That’s what you really wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted me to sponsor the whole damned brood for green cards? Well, I never promised marriage. I said I would take care of you and Emilia.’
‘But—’
‘Look, Rosa. I’ve seen what working in law enforcement can do to a family. My mother watched my father walk out the door each day never knowing if he was coming back. It tore her apart. When I was six she had a breakdown and spent the rest of her life in a mental institution. I promised I’d never risk that happening to someone I care about.’
Silence stretched.
Rosa gave a broken laugh. ‘But what will I tell my family?’
‘I don’t give a shit what you tell them. Marriage was never part of the deal for us.’
‘So what is the deal for us?’
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I don’t know, okay? I just don’t know. Now, I’m going to get changed, have a beer, and then I’m going to finish painting the nursery.’
He stormed into the master bedroom. The door closed behind him with a thud. Emilia began shrieking again and he instantly regretted what he’d done. He hadn’t intended to fight with Rosa, but he only had to open his mouth and she found something to complain about. He supposed it had something to do with her hormones and Latin temper, but he sure could do without having an argument every time he walked through the door.
He stripped off his shirt and threw it in the laundry basket along with his jeans. He wasn’t in the mood for painting and had planned to spend the evening doing some research on his laptop, but that was out of the question now. If he went anywhere near the family room Rosa would glare at him and pout her lips like a spoilt child. No, it was better to let her work the angst out of her system on her own.
He pulled on a pair of shorts, and an old T-shirt, and then walked into the kitchen. He dumped the laundry in the machine then turned his attention to the sink full of unwashed dishes. He stacked the dishwasher and mixed sufficient baby formula for the following day. He placed the bottles in the fridge, and took out a Budweiser. He took a long swallow from the bottle, and carried it into the nursery along with the brushes and paint. Across the hall Rosa had the TV on, no doubt watching some mindless reality show as usual.
He opened the tin of gloss, dipped the brush in and started painting the mouldings on the cupboard. If he’d known how things were going to turn out he would never had moved Rosa and Emilia into the condo. Instead he’d have done what many other men did, and simply paid child support.
He would talk to Rosa in the morning. Maybe she would be less pissed off by then. Or more. Who knew? It didn’t really matter if she understood why he needed to go with Grace to see the attorney.
CHAPTER FIVE
Located on the twenty-first floor of the city’s most enviable high-rise, the offices of Parous and Associates were furnished with an eclectic mix of glass topped chrome desks, leather chairs, and modern art. Jack and Grace followed an executive assistant down a long hallway lined with offices. Each bore the nameplate of a junior attorney and his para-legal assistant. At the end of the hallway they were shown into a conference room overlooking the bay.
Behind the large oval-shaped desk hung the most garish, unframed oil painting Grace had ever seen. She looked at it from every angle, and tried to make sense of the random splashes of reds, blues and blacks, but only succeeded in making her eyes cross and her head ache.
Jack sat next to her as they waited for the attorney to appear. The familiar spice of his cologne filled her senses. She closed her eyes and tried to blot out the memory of a sunny June afternoon, and the easy laughter they’d once shared. He’d smiled more back then. Now all he seemed to do was frown. Even his voice, once softer, more seductive, had a hard edge and she wondered what had brought about this change in his demeanour. When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her.
She tugged at the skirt of her newly purchased azure blue silk suit in an attempt to show Jack less of her long legs.
‘Stop staring at me, Jack.’
‘I’m not staring, I’m regarding. There’s a difference. I can see this isn’t easy for you. You okay?’
‘I’m coping, that’s all that matters. I wonder what’s keeping Mr. Parous.’
‘He’s probably snorting coke in the executive bathroom or meeting his dealer.’
‘Attorneys don’t
do drugs or hang out with drug dealers,’ Grace said. ‘That would be unprofessional and illegal.’
‘Bullshit! Don’t you read the papers or listen to the TV? Who do you think defends the drug barons when they come up in court? I’ll tell you. It’s a thousand-dollar-an-hour attorneys like Parous. How do you think they afford offices like this? And don’t tell me it’s from legitimate earnings, because I won’t believe a word of it. Corruption is rife in Miami. Bankers, attorneys, cops, even high court judges—they’re all on the take.’
Ring of Lies Page 5