Promised Box Set

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Promised Box Set Page 34

by James Kipling


  “They’ve still got the car on their forensic roster,” Aiden sighed. “They work over them as they can and given that the only person injured in my accident was me, they keep saying they’ll get to it when they get to it. Sounds like it should be soon though. The preliminary examination showed the cut brake line and they pulled a fingerprint but there were no matches in their initial search. Still hoping they’ll find more on a more exhaustive inspection.”

  “Did the insurance company pay out yet?” Mason asked with a furrowed brow. “If there was outside tampering I’d think they’d fight any claims you tried to make.”

  “You’d have to talk to Legal about that one,” Aiden shrugged. “It was a company car so I don’t get to see any insurance money either way. I’m lucky I haven’t had to pay for the car myself.”

  “Zoe would never make you pay for the car,” Amelia very quietly defended her friend.

  “They didn’t do a broad search with the fingerprint the first time, though,” Mason recalled. “They were looking pretty much exclusively to see if there was a connection to Allan Peters. Have they actually just run the print in their system as it is?”

  Aiden shrugged. “Does it matter?” He’d spent a lot of nights in his hospital bed and then his bed at home wondering who would have done that to his car and why. He’d tried to generate a list of people who might want him dead as he fought to master the treadmill during physical therapy. As his memory returned and he struggled to put names to the faces he saw in his mind’s eye, he wondered at each and every one, pausing to consider whether they’d had any reason to hurt him.

  The only thing that had taken his mind off of the gnawing questions was thinking about how the accident had cost him Zoe. It seemed pretty clear that she had no intention of resuming whatever their former relationship was. If any part of him still wanted to know who had been behind his accident, it was no longer to be able to ask them why; it was to have someone to blame for Zoe leaving other than Zoe herself. He was tired of blaming her; it made his reflexive wanting of her that much more painful.

  “Of course it matters.” Amelia surprised them all by speaking up. “Depending on who did it, you could still be in danger,” she pointed out. “And I will not pretend to know what is going on in your mind or what you have suffered in your recovery, but your family will undoubtedly care if something else happens to you. Do what Mason suggests and contact the police; ask them to run this fingerprint again. Make too much noise for them to ignore you and they will do what needs to be done to find the person who hurt you.”

  Aiden looked like a scolded child. He was just having a bad day and it wasn’t only from seeing Zoe.

  “Even if it wasn’t Allan Peters who cut the line, he might have had someone else do it for him,” Mason mentioned. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an update from Agent Boon. Why don’t I give him a call and see if he can put some pressure on the police to get moving on your accident?”

  “That won’t be necess—...”

  “I’ll put it done for Zoe to make the call,” Amelia said moving to Mason it on Zoe’s calendar. “Now that she’s home, she should be the one speaking with Agent Boon. I’ll put in a note for her to ask about your accident too.”

  Aiden wasn’t sure what to say to stop Amelia so he said nothing and instead began to back slowly out of the office. Mason gave him a sympathetic nod of dismissal and Aiden vanished down the hall.

  Mason turned to Amelia who was still hovering over Zoe’s desk.

  “What?” she asked as straight-faced as she could.

  “Zoe won’t appreciate you interfering like this,” Mason warned.

  “Not right away but she insisted on helping me when I needed it, even though I did not think I was ready. She is too proud to do what is necessary to fix this on her own so we must help her,” Amelia insisted.

  “We? I want no part of this.” Mason shook his head lightly and chose a spot on the rug to keep from looking at Amelia’s unconvinced expression. “I’m not about to get on her bad side over this.”

  “You and I both know that this is what she needs right now.” Amelia wouldn’t listen to Mason’s objections. “If you think I could not tell how much she missed him while she was away, how much she blamed herself for what passed between them… Making this right with him is the only way she will be able to move on – maybe not with him, but she needs to forgive herself for what she did. That will start with him forgiving her. What better excuse for them to work together than to search for the answers to what tore them apart?”

  Mason finally looked up at Amelia and was overcome by a wave of admiration. She was rather quiet but since coming to California with Zoe, Amelia had undeniably been opening up and speaking her mind more. It had been surprising, at first, to hear how quickly she and Zoe had become so close. He had been wary, half-convinced this Amy that Zoe spoke so highly of might be some sort of con-woman after what money she could get from his friend. But seeing them together reminded him of how he and Zoe had just clicked right from those first days of college. There was no prolonged get-to-know-you period or time when they tested one another and slowly build their mutual trust. It had been instantaneous, a recognition of something that was already there.

  For whatever reason, Zoe had found that with Amelia too. And he couldn’t deny that if he hadn’t been on high alert watching out for Zoe all the time, he probably would have felt it immediately too.

  Whatever it was, he was feeling it now. “Fine,” he capitulated. “It won’t be easy to get them there. Zoe’s probably tougher than Aiden.”

  “We will manage,” Amelia said with a confident smile. “So long as we stay on the same page.”

  Chapter 33

  “Lucas!” Zoe called, pounding on the door to his apartment. “It’s Zoe. Are you in there? I wanted to talk to you. Lucas?”

  A door across the hall opened and a disheveled man in boxers, a filthy t-shirt, and a gaping bathrobe shuffled into the hallway. “I know it’s the middle of the day for most people, but I work the night shift. Would you mind keeping it down? Huh?”

  Zoe shrank in on herself. “I’m sorry, sir,” she apologized. “I’m just looking for Lucas Warner. Do you know if he still lives here?”

  “He’s in and out at all hours. Don’t know what he does for a job but if he’s got one, it ain’t on a regular schedule. He’ll disappear for days at a time and then come barreling through the hall, loud as Mardi Gras, like he owns the place. Haven’t seen him since yesterday and I don’t have a clue where he is or how long he’ll be gone, so don’t bother asking,” he said, ending with a yawn. He disappeared back into his own apartment before Zoe could press him further or thank him for the information he’d provided.

  Zoe went to head back the way she came but hesitated. She hadn’t tried calling Lucas but didn’t want to talk to him over the phone or leave a message on his voicemail either. She wanted to see him, to be able to answer any questions Diane might have about his apartment and how he seemed; she also needed to see him when she spoke to him so she could tell when he was exaggerating or outright lying to her. Even if he was strapped for money and in desperate need of help, he would never admit as much to her; he would never give her the opportunity to say ‘I told you so.’

  She decided she would leave him a note. It took a while to dig around her purse and find paper and a pen but not as long as it took her to figure out what to write. The task complete, Zoe bent to slip the note under the door; attempting it in heels and a skirt proved more difficult than she anticipated and she quickly found herself on hands and knees, struggling to get back up gracefully – she didn’t think anyone was watching and hadn’t noticed any security cameras in the hallway but she didn’t want to take any chances.

  Her hand gripped the handle of the door to pull herself up but the doorknob turned unexpectedly and the door swung open. Zoe caught herself on the doorframe before she could fall flat on her face in the entryway. It took less
time to right herself with the prospect of Lucas standing over her in amusement but when she was back on her feet she found that he wasn’t there. He hadn’t opened the door; it had been left unlocked.

  Knowing Lucas as she did, it wasn’t entirely surprising that he would forget something like that. David had lectured Lucas many times about the importance of setting the alarm when he left the house.

  Zoe was about to head back out when her curiosity got the better of her. She closed the door on the hallway and began to look around the apartment, slipping off her shoes and finding it much easier to retrieve the note she had planned to leave. Should’ve thought of that a few minutes ago, she thought as she slipped the note back in her purse.

  It always amazed her at how many things Lucas possessed – more so now that so much had been repossessed by the federal government – and how cluttered those things could be. Uncle David had invested in maid services and personal organizers before finally settling on paying a housekeeper to clean everything but Lucas’s room. “If you want to live in chaos, so be it but keep your stuff in your room. I won’t have it overflowing into the rest of the house. If I see anything where it doesn’t belong, I’ll throw it in the trash,” she’d heard him threaten on several occasions. Uncle David never actually threw Lucas’s things away – not when David was the one who’d paid for them. He usually just tossed whatever was lying around back into the heap that covered Lucas’s floor.

  There were a few more places where the floor was visible in his apartment and Zoe made her way carefully from one exposed spot of carpet to the next, thankful once more for having decided to leave her heels by the door. I think Lucas must buy new clothes whenever he runs out of clean laundry, she speculated as she nudged a pair of gym shorts and a sweaty t-shirt out of her way. There were video games, DVDs, CDs, and their cases scattered across the coffee table, end tables, and sofa. A blanket and pillows were piled on the floor in front of the television like a makeshift bed.

  There was a counter with two chairs that looked into a kitchen barely large enough for one person. It would be impossible to open the oven and the refrigerator at the same time. There were two doors just beyond the miniscule kitchen. There was enough room in the bathroom for three people; one standing in the shower, one sitting on the toilet, and one standing in front of the sink. She moved to the bedroom, which was just as messy as the rest of the apartment, but in a way that surprised Zoe.

  One wall was an interconnected web of post-its, index cards, and photos tacked in place. He’d shoved a small desk against the wall and it was covered with computer print outs that had Lucas’s untidy handwriting scribbled all over them. She looked closer and saw that most of the print outs were maps with directions; an address in Sacramento; one in Phoenix; Los Angeles. Zoe looked closer at the wall and her pulse quickened.

  The photos were old and worn. And they were all photos of Diane.

  Lucas was trying to find his mother. She knew from Diane that she had kept Lucas in the dark as far as where she was and how to reach her – she’d been afraid of David getting hold of the information. Even Steve had only had the number for her prepaid cell after she’d moved five times in four years (she’d tossed the phone and bought a new one after she saw the news about Steve’s accident and the FBI’s search for David).

  It made sense for him to want to find her after what had happened. If I were in his shoes, I’d want to know why, she admitted to herself. Still, seeing the form his investigation took was… unsettling. It was… obsessive and made her a little more scared of Lucas than she had been before. Maybe Mason was right and she shouldn’t have come alone.

  She backed out of the room and quickly made her way back to the door, slipping her shoes on and leaving the door unlocked as she left, just as it was when she found it. She doubted that Mr. Night-Shift would say anything to Lucas about her being here and if he did, it would probably just be that she’d come by to see him; she prayed he hadn’t been watching her through his peep-hole to see that she’d found the door unlocked and walked in.

  ****

  Zoe was pale when she showed up to find Mason and Amelia whispering in her office. They shot away from one another as she walked in and missed the small smile seeing them together put on her face.

  “You are back earlier than I thought you would be,” Amelia remarked.

  “How’d things go with Lucas?” Mason asked with narrowed eyes.

  “They didn’t,” Zoe admitted, settling back into her chair. “He wasn’t home.” Her tone signaled to the others that she wouldn’t say anything more on the matter and they looked to each other, both knowing that there was more to the story.

  “I should go get us all something for lunch,” Amelia offered, moving to the door. “Would you like submarine sandwiches?”

  “Chinese,” Zoe said pulling a menu from the drawer of her desk. “Just get one of everything and leave what we don’t want in the break room. Tell them to put it on my account.”

  Amelia took the menu and left to place the order. She tactfully closed the door behind her leaving Zoe and Mason alone.

  “Have you talked to Agent Boon since you came back?” Mason asked. He was seated on the sofa and settled himself firmly in the nook where the arm met the back; it also happened to be pushed into the corner of office forcing Zoe to remain in front of him where he could see her. She might turn around to hide her face from him, but the windows were spectacularly reflective.

  Right on cue, Zoe looked down. “I have not. Are you suggesting I should?”

  “I’ve told you everything he’s told me about the case and their progress in finding Peters,” Mason admitted. “But he might be willing to tell you more than he’d be comfortable telling me.”

  “You think I should tell him I’m in contact with Diane,” she accused. She looked up and glared at him, expecting him to back down but he only tilted his head to the side and gave her a look that asked what she took him for.

  “Actually I was hoping hearing from you might put him in the mood to do the company a favor and look into a different matter,” Mason said evasively.

  “The company?”

  “I don’t think it would hurt to give them another little push regarding Peters but after your father’s death there was another matter Agent Boon had said he’d look into and he hasn’t updated me about it in a while. Aiden Butler’s car accident,” Mason said, gauging her reaction.

  Her features remained set but her coloring did rise slightly. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. Other than his being an employee and his having been framed by Uncle David, why would the FBI look into his accident?”

  “I didn’t tell you everything about it at the time because… well, you know,” Mason alluded. “But they did determine the accident was the result of foul play, just not Peters directly. Once they figured that out, they stopped putting pressure on the local police to find out who it was that did tamper with the vehicle. It still could have been someone acting for Peters but it seems like they’re skeptical about such a connection. Even if it isn’t related to Peters, it appears that someone wanted Aiden dead and the fact that it was a company car involved… I just think it would be wise from a legal standpoint to do everything we can to cover the company’s ass.”

  “From a legal standpoint? Ah-huh. You think this is the best way for me to resolve things with Aiden,” she challenged. “You think if I can present him with someone else to blame he’ll forgive me for just taking off like a selfish, self-centered brat?”

  “I think the best way for the both of you to move past whatever it was that happened between you is to face it and stop avoiding each other,” he said, cutting to the heart of the matter. “I think that working together to help the FBI catch the man who killed your parents and his will help both of you put a lot of things from your pasts to bed. If you regret whatever it was that happened, suck it up and say so. Or work on this with him until you’re more comfortable with him again and tel
l him then. If you’re interested in a relationship with him again, tell him. If he doesn’t want that anymore, move on. Just do something about it.”

  “You were the one who told me I should go,” Zoe snapped. She didn’t like feeling under attack even though she knew Mason was only telling her what she needed to hear, and honestly, it wasn’t much she hadn’t already told herself several times over.

  “I told you to do what you needed to do for you,” he corrected her. “And you did. And I stand by that. I never said it wouldn’t be messy or that there wouldn’t be things you needed to deal with when you came back. Now that you’re in a better place yourself, you’re strong enough to handle the rest of the messes in your life.”

  Zoe sat in the chair behind her desk and turned to face the window. Her view was as impressive as ever. The sun had begun its descent and shadows were beginning to creep across the rooftops and pavement below. She could see Mason’s reflection on the couch behind her and flushed as she remembered the night Aiden had come up behind her and… The simple memory of that night was enough to set her heart racing and rouse her body.

  She’d noticed it while she was traveling. It scared her. She’d had boyfriends in college and there was of course Lucas, but she’d never had such a visceral reaction to mere memories of the nights she’d spent with any of them. They’d elicit a smile and she might be able to force some of those remembered pleasures to the surface if she tried hard enough. But even without meaning to, she could remember everywhere Aiden had touched her; she could still feel the warm dexterity of his fingers. Her legs trembled and the muscles in her thighs ached with remembered striving and accomplishment. Her hair prickled at the nape of her neck where his hot breath had bathed her with words of encouragement and terms of endearment.

 

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