“Looks all right to me.”
He muffled a laugh and sat up. Then he took one of my hands and kissed my palm before looking at me with resignation. “You are so complicated. You are the only person I know who would do something so foolish and so brave.”
“I just want to protect my friends. That’s how I roll.”
When I left Dane’s office, Amy Of The Frigid Stare And Nordic Good Looks shot me an icy smile and told me to have a good day. At least that’s what her mouth said. The unseen bubble over her head read, “He’s mine, bitch. Hands off.” Frankly, she scared me almost as much as Sullivan. Just in a completely different way.
I figured it was only a matter of time before Sullivan tracked me down, but I wasn’t ready to see him yet. I needed to keep moving. A moving target was much better than a sitting duck, I’d always said. Okay, I’d never said that. But still, my theory was good.
I drove to my dad’s office, which was on the ninth floor of the medical building next to the hospital. He had a spacious waiting room with a slate tile fountain on one wall. I glanced around at the three people in the waiting room. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy to see me.
Sally Jenson had been my dad’s receptionist forever. “Rosalyn, honey, it is so good to see you.” She came out of the inner office and hugged me. “You look good.”
I had always liked Sally. She would sneak peppermint candy to Jacks and me on the rare occasions when we visited the office. Although she had to be in her sixties now, she hadn’t changed much. Her blonde hair was styled a little differently than when I had last seen it, but other than that, she looked the same. I wondered what her secret was.
“You look great too, Sally. I like the hair.”
Her hand fluttered to it, smoothing back a strand. “Thanks. I just got it cut.” Her smile withered around the edges. “I’m not sure I like it.”
“Well, I do. It’s very flattering.”
“You’re good for my ego. Now, you want to see your father. Go on back. I think he can squeeze you in.” She winked.
The door to my father’s office stood open, so I went in and sat down. It seemed my mother had gotten her hands on my dad’s office space. I would recognize her bland beige thumb anywhere. Colorless paintings hung on taupe walls underlined by a thick tan carpet. It had been a long time since I had been here. Five years, to be exact. When I told my dad I didn’t want to go back to the all-girls school on Cell Block H.
My father walked in twenty minutes later, carrying a green patient folder with him. “What are you doing here?” He was as surprised to see me as Sally was. But I got a much warmer reception from her.
I shifted around in the cognac brown leather chair, uncomfortable, not only in the chair, but in this room. With my father.
He sat behind his desk and waited for my answer.
I squirmed and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a cloudless, brilliant blue. My gaze flitted back to him. “Thank you for the table and chairs. That was very generous of you.”
“It’s fine. Is that why you stopped by Rosa…Rose? A personal visit wasn’t necessary, I got your message.”
“No, that’s not why I’m here.” I shifted in the chair again then forced myself to sit still.
He looked me up and down, frowning. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“I’ve got something to tell you, but I need to know you’ll keep it to yourself.” I was asking him to keep something from my mom. As far as I knew, he’d never done that before. Taking a deep breath, I blew it out. “Under no circumstances is Mom to know anything about this.” I just wanted to clarify.
“I don’t know if I can do that, Rosa…Rose.”
“Okay.” I pulled my purse over my shoulder and stood. “Thanks again for the table.
“Wait.” He stared not at me, but at some fixed point over my shoulder. “All right, Rose, I’ll keep this between the two of us.”
Now I was beginning to have second thoughts. “No, it was wrong of me to ask.” I walked toward the door.
“Sit down.” The tone was the same one he used when I had been in real trouble, like when I put food coloring in the school fountain and Jenny Truman ratted me out.
I sat.
“I don’t have much time. Try to be concise.”
I started at the beginning with Axton’s disappearance and left nothing out. His expression became tighter and more concerned with each new revelation. When I finished there was a long silence.
“The Police Chief? City councilmen, the mayor? All bought off by this Sullivan?” He tipped his chair back and stared at the framed diplomas on the wall. “You’re sure about this?”
I removed the papers and memory cards from my bag and laid them on his desk. It took a while, but he methodically went through them, page by page, muttering to himself. Finally, when he was done, he stared at me with haunted eyes. “My God, what were you thinking?”
I had heard that a lot lately. Seemed not everyone thought highly of my decision making abilities. I straightened my shoulders. “I did what I had to do. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“You could have gotten yourself killed. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“What could you have possibly done? No offense, Dad, but you would have either not believed me or told me to go to the police. Which I did, by the way, and got nowhere. And that was before I found out the Chief of Police owed Sullivan money.”
“Damn it. What you did was so incredibly stupid and dangerous. I don’t ever want you doing something like this again, do you hear me, young lady?”
I smiled at his fatherly concern. It was nice to know he cared.
“I’m serious,” he said, when he saw my smile.
“I need you to keep these copies somewhere safe, Dad, in case, you know, something happens, or Sullivan comes after me. I put down his address and everything I found out about him, which wasn’t much.”
My father took a deep breath, and after a moment, glanced back at the papers. “Did you make more than one copy, I hope?”
“I made three. They’re all in different places. And remember, don’t tell Mom.”
“Trust me. This is one thing she’ll never know about. I’ll take care of it, Rosalyn. Don’t worry.”
I felt such relief when my dad said he’d take care of it. As if a knot in my stomach untangled and I didn’t even realize it was there. I wished I had always felt this from him, cared for, protected. It felt nice, like a warm blanket on a cold night.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“You haven’t called me that since you were a very little girl.” We both stood and stared at each other, then our gazes slid away, uncomfortable with the closeness.
“Well, I’d better get going.”
He gestured at the copies I’d given him. “Yes, I have to deal with these.” He came around the desk and gave me a brief, one-armed hug, and awkwardly patted my back. “Be careful. No more dealing with criminals, okay?”
I smiled and said nothing as I walked out of his office.
Sally gave me another hug for the road and pushed a couple of peppermint candies in my hand before I left.
Chapter 33
Now for the part I’d been putting off. The part that made my hands shake and my chest hurt. It was time to visit Sullivan.
I could either wait for him and his menacing minions to find me, or I could come from a place of power and go to him. One might argue that going to him was coming from a place of sheer stupidity, a fly dive-bombing a spider’s web, but I felt more comfortable with initiative than I did with inertia.
As I drove out of Huntingford and got on the highway, my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, I began to feel the enormity of my actions. My dad was right, what had I been thinking? Sullivan must be livid I’d taken those files. No one screwed him over. He told me that. Breaking into his home, not to mention smashing his fancy bowl, attacking two of his employees, invading his private space, stealing personal files. Had
to be a worse than owing him money.
Maybe it would be better to just keep driving and not stop until I got a safe distance away. About two thousand miles might do it. But then Sullivan might come after my family, like he did with Axton. Maybe I could offer up my mother. I smiled at the thought of my imperious mother snapping at Henry that he’d tied the rope binding her hands wrong, and that he should do it properly or not at all. But then I quickly sobered and thought of my sister and little Scotty. No, I had to finish this.
I was so lost in thought I almost missed my exit and had to make a hasty lane change to get off the highway. I drove up to Sullivan’s beautiful stone house with my heart beating twice as fast as normal. I turned in the circular drive and parked the car. Henry was out of the house and stalking toward me before I even had time to open the car door.
I managed to grab my bag before he jerked me out of the driver’s seat and frisked me, patting me down from head to toe. His enormous hands impersonally brushed over my breasts and ass, sliding between my legs.
“Watch it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He unzipped my purse and rummaged around, taking my keys and pocketing them, before shoving it back at me. He grabbed me by my arm and yanked me toward the house. “I wouldn’t want to be you right now.”
Henry and I had something in common. I didn’t want to be me right now either.
He led me through the house, down the hall, and straight to the pseudo library. Henry gave a perfunctory knock on the door before opening it and thrusting me inside. I felt like I had just been thrown into a cage with a very hungry lion.
Sullivan stood in front of the window, his back to me. With the sun washing over him, I could see the blue highlights in his black hair. He wore a navy cashmere sweater and dark slacks, his hands shoved in the pockets. Slowly he turned toward me, his posture deceptively relaxed. His eyes told a different story.
“Rose.” His voice was soft. “Have a seat.” He gestured with one hand toward the chair in front of his desk.
If he had been screaming or ranting or showing some kind of emotion, I think I wouldn’t have been so afraid. The quiet reasonable tone masking his fury made my knees quake, but I wasn’t going to let him see that. He’d eat me alive.
I threw back my shoulders and stalked toward the chair, throwing him a haughty look before sitting down.
He slid into his seat behind the desk, and with his hands flat on the desktop, studied me in silence. I stared back with my best bored look. The one I used as a teenager when my mother would chastise me for using the salad fork instead of the dinner fork. I knew which fork to use, but when she insisted on serving salmon, I insisted on using the wrong fork.
“You stole from me, Rosalyn Strickland. And that is not acceptable.” His voice dripped ice, but the volume didn’t change.
“You and I have different definitions of unacceptable. And I did what I had to do to protect the people I care about.”
He stared at me with those angry gold eyes and said nothing. He was waiting me out. He could wait all day. I kept my mouth shut and thought about my homework assignments, my meager grocery list, and the fact I needed an oil change. It had been over ten thousand miles. Way over.
It took a solid fifteen minutes before he got up from the desk and stalked toward me. Grabbing my arms, he hauled me up, his hands warm, even through the long sleeves of my sweatshirt.
My breath came in shallow gasps. We stood three inches apart. That spicy orangey scent tickled my senses. I probably smelled like fear and peppermint candy. I hope he didn’t notice.
“I want what you stole from me,” he said. It came out more like a snarl and he shook me a little for emphasis.
I casually tilted my head. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Do you have them with you?” He was so close that if I puckered my lips, they’d touch his.
“Maybe,” I whispered. I may have swayed a bit.
He didn’t let me go immediately, but kept his hands on my arms while he stared at my mouth. I parted my lips and held my breath in anticipation of whether he would move that half an inch, touch his lips to mine, or pull back.
He pulled back.
I exhaled.
“Give them to me,” he said.
When he released me, I sank down in the chair. He, however, didn’t go back behind the desk, but instead leaned against it, his leg brushing mine. Boldly, I crossed one leg over the other, bringing my calf to rest against his and raised an eyebrow.
He left his leg where it was and crossed his arms over his chest, to show that touching me didn’t bother him. I leaned back and smiled, showing him that I wasn’t bothered by his not being bothered.
He held out his hand. “Now.”
I wagged my finger. “Not so fast.”
His expression shuttered and his nostrils flared slightly. Seeing him lose his shit was a bit satisfying. A lot scary, but a little satisfying.
He scooped up my purse and pawed through it. I didn’t like it. I had tampons rolling around in there. But still I didn’t protest. I knew it wouldn’t do any good.
He threw the bag to the floor. “I’m tired of playing games.”
“I am, too, actually. Why did you let me go last night?” I had been wondering about it and it still confused me. I’d told him I had access to the hard drive, but still, he’d made no move to detain me.
“I don’t know,” he ground out. He glanced back at me, his jaw clenched. “And you broke my antique porcelain bowl.”
“Well you could have broken Axton.”
“Yes, but the antique bowl had value.”
I kicked the side of his leg with my foot. “That’s not even funny.”
“Do you see me laughing? I want what you stole from me.”
“I have the items I borrowed—”
He scoffed.
“And I’ve made copies. Several of them.”
He crossed his arms, his face grim. “Of course you have.”
“They’ll stay hidden if you leave me and mine alone.”
“Or what?” He leaned forward, his hands bracing on the armrests of my chair. He was all up in my personal space. And he smelled so good.
“Or I will put all your business on the internet, send it to all the major papers in the state. It will be on the city council website and any other place I can think of.”
His breath fanned my face. His eyes darkened to a rich amber gold. “How do I know you won’t do that anyway?”
“You don’t.” Having him this close made me nervous. I licked my lips and fought the urge to push him away. And draw him closer. The soft cashmere of his sweater brushed against my hand.
His gaze lowered to my lips and stayed there.
“You’ll just have to take my word for it,” I said.
He pushed off the chair and straightened. “How much?” He walked back behind the desk and sat down.
“How much what?”
“How much is your silence going to cost me?” He was all business now. Gone was the angry sexy expression. In its place was a cold professional businessman making a deal.
“I’ve already told you. You leave me and my family and my friends and all my acquaintances and anyone I’ve ever met or talked to alone, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“One hundred thousand?” he asked, acting as if I hadn’t spoken.
“I just want to know we’re safe.”
“One fifty?”
“Do we have a deal or not?”
“What’s your price, Rose?”
I stood up and leaned across his desk. Why could this man have me hot and bothered one minute then just plain hot the next? “I told you. I want your assurance that we’ll all be safe. No more kidnappings. No more threats. Do you understand me? You will leave us the hell alone, and never,” I pointed my finger at him, “never mention the name of my nephew again.”
He looked at me in silence for several seconds. “Deal.” He stood and held out his hand for me to
shake. I ignored it.
I picked up my bag and walked out of his office, my head held high.
I stalked to the front door, past Henry and Cold Eyes, who shot daggers at me. Noticing the bruise on his Adam’s apple, I smiled at him sweetly and gave a finger wave.
Keeping my posture stiff like only my mother’s daughter can, I walked to my car and opened the passenger door. On the seat was the backpack. I pulled out the textbook that had sustained the least amount of damage from the break-in.
“We already checked the bag. The files weren’t in there,” Henry said from behind me.
“No offense, Henry, but you’re not exactly a brain trust.” I flipped my accounting book open to the section I had painstakingly hollowed out with a utility knife earlier that morning. Inside were the folded pages I had stolen and the USB drives. I’d done the same thing to the Tolkien book I’d taken from Ax’s backpack. I flipped it open and removed the hard drive.
I handed them all to Sullivan who looked at me impassively. His gaze never left my face. “Henry, go inside.”
Henry scowled at me before returning to the house.
“I expect you to keep your word,” I said.
He smiled. “I expect you do.”
“I’m not bullshitting, Sullivan.”
“It’s been a very interesting experience meeting you, Rose.”
“One I don’t wish to repeat.” I slammed the door and my garbage bag window rippled, then I walked around to the driver’s side. My keys were hanging from the ignition. Without looking back, I got in the car and drove away.
Once I got on the highway, I took a deep, deep breath. My hands trembled so hard, I had to pull over to the side of the road and count backwards from one hundred to keep from sobbing with relief.
It was finally over. His last words hadn’t been encouraging, but nothing I could do about it now. I just wanted my life back. I wanted to go back to class and hear Janelle bitch about her ex, Asshat. I wanted to see what crazy outfit Roxy would wear next. I wanted to hear about Axton’s defeat of alien warriors from his latest video game. I wanted Jacks to tell me the funny thing Scotty just said. I wanted normalcy.
Diners, Dives & Dead Ends Page 23