Elise had been like a burr, clinging to him unnecessarily since the day they had made love on the table.
She spoke of their future together as if they had been separated by time alone and Drake didn’t have the heart to tell her that when he found what he came for, he would be gone once more.
There was no doubt in his mind that the theatrics accompanying such an announcement would be legendary. He did feel a slight bit of remorse at the prospect of his treatment of her, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The only thing that was important, was finding the information that would lead him to his sons. And there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make that happen. Not anything.
He knew the longer he stayed unprotected in Sacramento, the greater his chances of being captured or killed by Oculus grew.
Once he got the information he needed, he would quietly slip out of Elise Berkley’s life - as silently as he had slipped back in.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Conway?”
Tamara’s voice startled him as he tried the handle to the main floor study.
Dammit!
He had forgotten about the house staff.
“Yes,” he replied casually. “I need the key to this room. Any idea where I can find it?”
Tamara’s dark eyes turned hard and Drake realized she was going to report back to Elise. He was torn over what to do but forced a smile on his face.
“Mrs. Berkley and I are thinking about turning it into a games room,” he lied and the brunette housekeeper scowled.
“I find that hard to believe,” she said coldly. “Mrs. Berkley has always maintained that this room is to be kept in memorandum of Mr. Berkley.”
Drake idly wondered if he was going to have to kill her. He hoped not. There was nothing he disliked more than leaving behind a trail of bodies.
“You can believe whatever you want, Tamara, but keep in mind that soon I will be the one paying your wages,” he snarled. “Mr. Berkley has been gone a very long time. I think it is healthy for Mrs. Berkley to move on, don’t you agree?”
Her demeanor changed instantly and she lowered her gaze.
“I’ll see about finding that key, Mr. Conway,” she muttered. She would have to be blind not to notice the difference in Elise’s personality since Drake had arrived. Tamara had no reason to disbelieve that Drake Conway was about to become a regular fixture in the residence. Elise believed it too.
Drake waited impatiently until Tamara returned, pulling out a set of keys from her apron. She opened the door and stepped back, allowing him to enter.
“In the future, there are spare keys in the pantry,” she muttered and Drake knew that it pained her to tell him that.
“Thank you, Tamara,” he said, closing the door in the house servant’s face.
He didn’t need any distractions or witnesses to what he was about to do.
Immediately, he hurried toward the desk, sitting in the swivel chair and pulling open drawers to analyze the contents.
With each minute, he found himself growing increasingly frustrated.
It seemed that the team who had tended to Vance Berkley’s files had been truthful and thorough; there was nothing in the desk which seemed to suggest the whereabouts of his sons.
Dejectedly, Drake sat back, staring at the desk calendar from 1995.
A pang of nostalgia surged through him as he recognized Vance’s chicken scratch hand writing, his hands tracing over the page with affection.
The man had been like his right arm. Getting by without him had been unbearable for the first few years, especially in the wake of losing his entire family.
As his fingers trailed off the page, he noticed a scar in the wood, just beneath the calendar page.
His brow furrowing, he stared at the bizarre scratch, his sixth sense screeching.
Instantly, he pushed the agenda aside, baring the top of the table.
Something was etched there and Drake stared at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
Four seemingly random ideas floated before his eyes:
Q 47.606209/-122.332071
S 40.811550/-73.946477
V 39.29038/
Before he could finish reading the last two in entirety, his concentration was shattered as the door to the study flew open and Elise glowered at him.
“You son of a bitch!” she screamed, rushing toward him. “I knew it! I knew you were up to something from the minute you landed on my doorstep! Get out of here! Get out of this room right now!”
Drake rose slowly, pointing at the figures on the desk.
“These are – “
“Didn’t you hear me? GET OUT!”
The fury in Elise’s blue eyes was unlike anything Drake had ever seen in the woman and for a moment, he was afraid of her.
“Wait!” he begged. “Let me write this down!”
She slapped him hard across the face.
“Get out! Get out! Get out of my house! You used me!”
He tried to shake his head in denial but another smack ensued and he knew he had to obey her request before she lost complete control.
“You never thought about me!” she screeched, tears pouring down her face. “You only came here to use me again! And I fell for it!”
“Elise please,” he begged. “I love – “
“If you say it, I swear to God I will get my gun and shoot you dead. If I ever see your face again, I will kill you.”
Swallowing, Drake spun and hurried from the study, Elise’s muffled sobs following him into the grand foyer.
When she calms down, I will talk to her, he told himself, stepping out of the house into the hot summer air.
But he knew that there was no chance that Elise would forgive him, not that time. He had crossed the line and he was aware of it, but he could not bring himself to regret what he had done.
Sighing, he reached into his pants for his cell phone to call for his detail.
I need those numbers, he thought, gritting his teeth. I need them all.
He wandered down the street to wait for Goetz to arrive, his mind racing. He understood the first one.
Q must be Ryder. The other two are Xavier and the twins.
The non-descript black SUV appeared, pulling up stealthily along side of him and Drake slipped in silently, barely acknowledging the driver who nodded at him.
“Sir.”
He closed his eyes and conjured the image of Vance’s workspace back to his mind. His identic memory recounted the numbers he had been permitted to read before Elise had stormed the office.
Q 47.606209/-122.332071, S 40.811550/-73.946477, V 39.29038/
He stifled a cry of anxiety, knowing that he only had half the information which Vance had left behind.
Half is better than nothing, he reasoned.
“Give me your tablet,” he ordered Special Agent Goetz and the man obliged without question.
“Did you find something?” Goetz asked curiously.
“Just be quiet and drive,” he snapped.
Unlocking the device, Drake got to work.
Vance had left behind coordinates and a clue as to the names of the families who had been enlisted in the care of the boys.
Ryder was the only one of his boys that he had found, so he didn’t really need the information for him. And he did not have full coordinates for the twins, but he finally had a lead on his second son!
It was a start and as he entered the numbers he had recalled, he exhaled slowly as the satellite closed in on Harlem, New York.
He was that much closer to finding Xavier.
Hang on, son. I’m coming.
Chapter Seven
They were silent driving home, both in somewhat of a state of shock.
Seeing Clark Jameson’s blueish face, still stiff from rigor mortis as they hauled him from the trunk had affected Xave more than he had expected and he eyed Danica as they dumped his body into the lake.
Her expression mirrored how he felt and he
wondered how he had dragged this complete stranger into his mess.
As they made their way back to the heart of Amarillo, his phone began to ring incessantly.
“You need to answer that!” Danica snapped as they pulled up to her house on Mirror Street. “It’s making me crazy.”
“It’s the owner of the car,” he muttered, stopping at the curb. “I can’t deal with her right now.”
“Well you’re going to have to,” she insisted. “She’s not going to stop calling.”
Danica hadn’t asked for details on what had happened and Xave was not sure he wanted to disclose any of them.
I need to leave this girl and forget I ever met her, he thought but he knew it was not so simple; Danica was aware of his name. When the story of the missing basketball player came to light, she would be a liability.
“Go get changed,” he ordered her. “I’ll wait here.”
She stared at him, her grey eyes wide with concern.
“And then what?” she demanded.
“And then you’re coming with me.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t!” she replied. “I have a roommate. She’s going to wonder where I am.”
Xave scowled, shaking his head. The situation was becoming more complicated by the minute.
“Let’s go,” he snapped, turning off the phone. His cell began to ring again and he snatched it up, gesturing for Danica to wait.
“Sasha, let me do my job!” he snarled into the phone.
“Oh my God, Xave! Where is my car? What happened? Is he gone?”
With gritted teeth, Xavier growled, “Don’t call me again. I’m bringing your car home in the next hour. Text me your address.”
He didn’t allow her to respond, ending the call and turning off his phone.
“Come on,” he told Danica. “Hurry up. We still have to take the car for a car wash.”
She didn’t argue, slowly climbing from her spot but suddenly he read the worry in her face.
She’s having second thoughts now, isn’t she? He thought with grim acceptance. It’s not so fun when she realizes that it’s not just a cheap thrill. She’s no different than any of the “ladies” at Lady Katrine’s.
“Were you hired to kill that man?” Danica asked as they stepped over the threshold into the front room.
“Of course not!” Xave growled, slamming the door behind him. “Go take a shower and get changed. We have to go.”
The sooner he was rid of Sasha’s car, the better he would feel. Then he could figure out what to do with Danica.
“Come with me,” she urged and he stared at her in surprise.
“You want me to shower with you?” he asked and she nodded, lowering her eyes. He chewed on the insides of his cheeks, unsure of what to do.
Is this a trick? What does she hope to gain?
In the light of day, suddenly the mystique and intrigue which had surrounded their bizarre encounter seemed phony, and dozens of questions flooded through Xave.
“I’ll hang out with you in the bathroom,” he muttered.
He glanced about the room, noticing the mess they had made hours earlier and he felt a shiver of pure lust, recalling how they had tussled on the floor, each vying for the upper hand in their lovemaking.
Danica nodded curtly.
“All right,” she agreed but she seemed upset by his response.
Is she trying to seduce me? Is she somehow trying to gain my trust? Xavier’s history with people had taught him always to look for the ulterior motive. To dig deeper and determine what the person actually wanted from him.
Xave reasoned that she might be successful. There was something ethereal about Danica Cortez, a quality he had never seen in another woman but not one he could identify with words.
“Upstairs,” Danica said and they made their way to the second floor, Danica pressing her fingers to her lips. “My roommate is sleeping.”
He didn’t respond but to nod his head and they stole into the small bathroom where Danica wasted no time stripping off her clothes.
He admired her toned, tanned skin, resisting the desire to move behind her and grasp her luscious butt in both hands, grinding his cock against the crack of her ass as she leaned over the bathtub to turn on the faucet.
Stay focussed, he warned himself but he was finding that task insurmountable.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” she asked softly, but there was little allure in her tone. Suddenly he realized that she was scared.
She wants me to comfort her, he thought dazedly, staring into her smoky eyes. Have I ever been needed to comfort someone??
Swallowing, he shook his head.
“No. I’ll wait here,” he replied shortly, turning his head and trying to ignore the bulge in his pants.
The shower curtain zipped closed and he could sense the disappointment emanating from her.
You have to think, he told himself. After she cleans up, we wash the car and take it back to Sasha. No one breathes a word of this.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, adjusting his swollen unit and as he did, his fingers grazed a piece of paper.
Abruptly, a sick feeling overtook him and he slumped back against the bathroom door.
Oh my God…
“What was that?” Danica called, poking her head out of the shower, her brow furrowed.
“Nothing,” he muttered but he was aware then that he had a big problem.
“Why are you so pale?” she asked, but he couldn’t answer immediately. His breaths were beginning to explode in short, ragged gasps.
“Just…hurry up,” he choked, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. She stared at him a moment longer, droplets of water cascading down her naked shoulders and then retreated into the bath.
Xave barely noticed the scent of cocoa butter wafting through the air as his mind whirled, bile threatening to spew from his throat.
We have to run, he told himself. Sasha and I need to disappear today.
A moment later, the water turned off and the curtain slid open again, revealing a drenched Danica.
“Hand me a towel,” she instructed and he turned to oblige but his mind was elsewhere, not in the bathroom anymore. Instead, he was planning his escape from Amarillo.
He had no transportation of his own and minimal funds. He couldn’t fly or his whereabouts would be traced.
Maybe I won’t return the car…or maybe Sasha and I will take off together.
He winced at the thought of traveling with the screechy brunette for any length of time.
“Am I that hard to look at?” Danica commented, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she noticed his expression.
Xave stared at her blankly.
If he ran, he would be leaving her behind too.
“Okay, you’re scaring me a little bit,” she confessed. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
She doesn’t know what to make of me. One minute she feels our intense connection and the next, she’s worried I’m going to kill her.
He debated about telling her the truth.
No. It doesn’t matter now. I have to get out of here.
“Xave, what’s going on?” she demanded. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“No,” he said gruffly. “I made a mistake dragging you into this. I have to go.”
“No!” she shouted, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare move from this house.”
But he wasn’t listening as he wrenched open the door and made his way down the stairs.
“Xave, if you don’t stop, I will call the police myself!”
He froze at the bottom of the steps, turning to gaze at her in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t do that,” he accused. “You would be an accomplice!”
She shrugged, her face cold.
“Oh well,” she replied flatly. “I guess we’re both going away and I’ll take your girlfriend down too. I memorized the licence plate number on the car.”
Xave’s mou
th fell open.
“What could you possibly gain by this?” he snapped, shaking his head uncomprehendingly. “You don’t know me. You should be glad I’m getting out of your hair.”
“I should, shouldn’t I?” she sighed. “I have no idea why, but I know I can’t let you go, not yet.”
“You wouldn’t call the cops,” Xave hedged, but he was not so sure. Nothing about their situation made sense.
“I will,” She vowed.
Fuck, he believed her.
“Stay there and don’t move until I get dressed,” she told him. Xavier nodded curtly, sinking onto the bottom step.
He didn’t have another choice.
In minutes, Danica returned, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a V-neck dark purple t-shirt.
“I’m making coffee,” she announced as she tripped down the stairs, but she paused to lock the front door before she headed toward the back of the house.
Xave reluctantly followed her, glancing around the small house as he did, trying to learn anything else he could about the woman whose life he had stumbled into inexplicably.
Before the kitchen, he saw a closet sized room filled with video monitors but before he could understand what he was seeing, Danica shut the door casually.
Again, Xave was seized with a fission of alarm.
Dammit! The video cameras outside Lady Katrine’s. We’re finished.
He could see how the death of Clark Jameson was about to bring him and Sasha to their knees.
And Lady Katrine’s will be done forever. The girls will be publicly exposed and ridiculed. Everyone will have to leave town. Christ, Sasha, why didn’t you just cancel the appointment? Why didn’t you tell someone what he was doing to you?
He knew why; because he was Clark Jameson and she feared backlash. She was only a borderline prostitute. No one would listen to her, not when such a wealthy client was at stake.
“You look like you’re going to explode,” Danica commented. “Sit down.”
Xave grimaced.
“I am not going to explode,” he retorted. “I’m waiting for you to release me from my hostage situation so I can be on my way.”
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