Parker’s Price

by Ann Bruce

  Renata Tariko laughed, the sound rich and oddly chilling. “Oh, you think Tyler was the one who broke into your home.” An elegant hand reached into the clutch, pulled out a small, black gun and pointed it at Parker. “Stupid woman.”

  Dean burst onto Parker’s floor and proceeded to her office with long, impatient strides that made people hurry out of his path. Owen saw him coming and got out of his seat. He hurried around his desk, as if he thought he needed to physically stop Dean.

  “She’s not inside. You just missed her,” Owen explained hastily.

  “How long?”

  “Less than five minutes.”

  Dean cursed. Two of the elevators had been out of service, so he’d been further delayed. But he’d been so close. How had he missed her?

  “Where’d she go?”

  “Lunch.”

  “Did she go alone?”

  Owen shook his head. “No, a woman stopped by and Parker left with her.”

  “Tall, black hair, and short, black dress?”

  Owen nodded and Dean cursed. Even as he’d been describing the woman, he remembered where he’d seen her: on the stairs of Moore’s girlfriend’s walk-up. She was the same woman Moore had bought at the auction. When he’d passed her on the stairs, he didn’t make the connection because her hair color had changed so dramatically.

  “What’s this about?” asked Owen, beginning to look alarmed.

  “Call building security an—”

  He was cut off by the ring of his cell phone. He reached for it and glanced at the caller ID. His gut twisted. He flipped the cell phone open.

  “We ran a check on Moore’s girlfriend, Renata Tariko,” Detective Wade told him. “She registered a .38 two years ago. The bullet we dug out of your building is a .38. We’re going to bring her in for questioning, but I wanted to warn you so you stay alert. I tried calling Ms. Quinn, but she’s not answering her office phone or her cell phone.”

  Dean’s free hand fisted and he cursed. “Renata Tariko already has Parker,” he said, his jaw so tight he could barely move it. He gave the detective the building address and disconnected.

  Owen angled the telephone receiver away from his ear and slapped his palm over the mouthpiece. “I have security on the line. What should I tell them?”

  “To secure all exits and to find Parker. And when they do, use caution because the woman with her is possibly armed and dangerous.”

  “All he does is talk about you. Parker this, Parker that. It was driving me insane!” said Renata, each rising word punctuated by the clack, clack of her heels on the linoleum tiles.

  Tyler had driven her insane, too, but Parker refrained from mentioning it. Besides, she didn’t think the crazy woman with the gun would want to hear Parker’s and Tyler’s names in the same sentence.

  “Why are you doing this?” Parker asked, already knowing the answer and wanting to stall. She couldn’t take the stairs too slowly. When she’d first tried that, the other woman had jabbed her between her shoulder blades with the gun, which was once more concealed inside the clutch. Parker had stumbled but managed to grab hold of the railing before she’d tumbled down the steps and very possibly broken her neck. She should be grateful the other woman had been too impatient to wait for one of the two still-functioning elevators. Otherwise, Renata could’ve already taken her to an unknown destination where witnesses would be scarce. At the current pace, she still had another good ten minutes to think of an escape plan.

  “He wants you, thinks you’re special. He thinks you’re the only woman he can love. But I think with you dead, he will forget all about you.” She said it like it was so simple, so logical, and Parker supposed in her confused mind that it really was. She was going to kill Parker to free Tyler of his obsession. And had she tried to kill Dean because he’d struck Tyler?

  “Why did you try to kill Dean?” asked Parker, keeping her tone low and even. “I’m the one you hate.”

  “He hurt Tyler. And I don’t hate you. I just want Tyler to forget you.” She made an indecipherable sound. “I tried to be more like you.”

  Hence the new hair color and black-on-black ensemble, Parker thought, shuddering a little.

  “But it didn’t work. He…he…”

  The footfalls behind Parker ceased. She tensed, not sure if she should keep going and risk Renata thinking she was going to make a run for it or stop and have Renata poke her with the gun again. In the end, she went down another step and waited, hand clutching the railing tightly. She turned her head a bit, as if to better hear Renata.

  “He didn’t even say anything.” Renata’s voice lowered. “It was like he didn’t even notice.”

  Parker turned enough to see Renata’s face and, for a moment, she forgot about the gun in the clutch and felt a pang of pity for the other woman. Tyler had wanted women to worship at his feet, had even considered it his God-given right because of his looks and money. Now that his fantasy was being fulfilled he seemed to be doing his best to drive her away. Feeling a spurt of anger, Parker added lack of intelligence to Tyler’s list of faults.

  “He’s not worth what you’re doing for him,” Parker said, unable to stop herself from forming the words and voicing them out loud. “He’s not worth going to jail for.”

  Renata’s eyes frosted over and her face, like her body, stiffened. “Pretending to be my friend will not help you. And I won’t be going to jail.”

  Parker’s gaze flickered to the camera in the corner above Renata’s head. “Someone’s watching. If I go missing, the police will review the surveillance tapes and know I was last seen with you.”

  “And I will tell them we went for lunch and, afterward, went our separate ways.” She shrugged. “Anything could’ve happened to you as you walked back to work. It happens all the time.” She gestured with her empty hand. “Keep m—”

  A door slammed open overhead, the noise echoing loudly in the concrete stairwell. Renata turned to look up the stairwell. Parker turned and ran down the stairs, hand already outstretched for the fire door. She heard Renata shout something in Russian, curses from the vehemence in her tone. She reached the landing, wrapped her fingers around the doorknob—and felt Renata grab her hair and yank viciously. A sharp cry escaped Parker, the sound more from frustration than hurt. Using her entire weight, Renata body-checked Parker into the wall and jabbed the gun, which was no longer concealed by the clutch, into her side, digging in painfully.

  Footsteps sounded, coming closer. So riddled with tension that her body nearly vibrated, Renata clenched Parker’s hair and swung them both around to face the intruder, keeping Parker in front of her like a shield. Parker felt the gun jab into the small of her back and winced.

  Long, trouser-clad legs came into view, started to round the corner.

  “Stop!” Renata yelled, her trembling voice more desperate than authoritative. “Go back!”

  The male legs kept coming and Parker found herself looking up into Dean’s blazing blue eyes. She sucked in an audible breath as relief and fear warred within her. He stopped three steps up from the landing. Parker’s stomach twisted. Oh, God. Renata had tried to kill him once and failed, and now the blasted man was all but serving himself up on a silver platter.

  “Let Parker go, Renata,” Dean said, his voice, like his face, deceptively calm. “It’s over.”

  The gun dug in deeper and Parker bit down on her lip to keep silent. Dean’s hands fisted, but that was his only reaction.

  “Stay back,” Renata hissed. She brought the gun out from behind and pressed the muzzle against Parker’s temple. “Or I will shoot her now and you can watch her die. And put your hands up.”

  Dean did as instructed, lifting his hands to his shoulders slowly so as to not startle Renata. His voice remained even. “Building security’s already blocked all exits and the police are on their way.”

  “You’re lying,” denied Renata, but her voice wavered with a note of uncertainty.

  “The police know about your gun. You bought
it two years ago. They can prove the bullet you shot at me came from that gun.”

  The hand fisted in Parker’s hair clenched again and tears stung her eyes.

  “If you kill Parker or me, you will go to prison for life for premeditated murder. You’ll never be with Tyler again.” He paused. “You might never be with him now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He confessed this morning.”

  “Why?” asked Renata with a wealth of confusion in her tone. “He’s innocent. Why would he do that?”

  The tightness on her scalp eased as Renata’s grip loosened, but Parker remained still, like a small animal hoping a predator would forget about it if it didn’t move, didn’t draw attention to itself.

  “He’s trying to protect you,” Dean explained. His voice softened. “Because he loves you.”

  The gun shifted, the muzzle no longer aimed at her temple.

  “B-but…he…he…” Shaking her head, Renata let her voice trail off. Parker felt her captor’s muscles tense and seized the opening. She grabbed Renata’s wrist, jerked it away and threw her entire body back. She slammed Renata against the wall. There was a dull thud as a head smacked the concrete wall, then a sharp, feminine cry. Dean snatched her wrist and jerked her free of Renata’s hold. He pushed her down and out of the way, and Parker stumbled. Her heart leapt into her throat and the bottom fell out of her stomach. She caught herself against the railing, hands clutching at it like a lifeline, but she still almost fell to her knees.

  The gun went off, the report almost deafening in the enclosed space.

  Dean!

  Parker whipped around and slapped her hand to her mouth to smother a distressed cry. White dust fell down on the two struggling figures. Renata was making animal-like sounds of fury and frustration. Dean had her pinned against the wall, one hand manacled around the wrist of the hand still hanging on to the gun. He yanked her arm over her head and smashed her wrist against the wall. It took three tries before her fingers opened and the gun fell to the ground. Dean kicked it back away from them. It slid in front of Parker.

  Doors below them slammed open, followed by male voices shouting and the pounding of many feet. As uniformed NYPD officers filled the stairwell, Dean released Renata and stepped back. With a sob, she slid down the wall and covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook.

  Feeling weak herself, Parker lowered herself to the floor. It was over. The police were here. They were okay. She brushed a shaking hand over her face and it came away wet. Dean was okay.

  She must’ve said something out loud because he was suddenly beside her, pulling her into his arms.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair.

  She buried her face in his chest. “I’m not crying.”

  “I know.”

  “I just can’t stop shaking.”

  His arms tightened. “I know.”

  “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Parker wrapped her long, red scarf tightly around her neck and walked through the door held open for her.

  “Thank you, Henry.”

  “Should I hail you a taxi, Miss Quinn? It’s rather chilly out.”

  She smiled at him. “No, thank you. I’m just going to walk in the park for a bit. I need the air.”

  The elderly doorman looked like he wanted to argue and Parker wondered what instructions Dean had given him. For the last two weeks, she hadn’t been allowed to be alone. At first, she’d been grateful for the attention, especially since it soothed her mom’s nerves and convinced her Parker didn’t need her moving in for a few days. Fourteen days later, however, she was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. The only times she’d been allowed out were for her early morning runs around the reservoir in the park. Even then, Dean had been by her side.

  Luckily, today she’d managed to convince a reluctant Gordon she would not fall to pieces if he left her alone while he went out and picked up a few grocery items.

  “I’m going batty from being cooped up in that apartment. If Dean asks, you can tell him I pulled a fast one and snuck out the back.”

  Henry’s mouth curled with amusement and he tipped his hat to her. Parker strode to the end of the block and, when the light turned, crossed the street into a shower of yellow and orange leaves. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat and continued walking along the perimeter, leaves crackling under her feet. God, she was going to miss being so close to Central Park once she moved back to her brownstone. But she couldn’t impose on Dean anymore. Just this morning, his administrative assistant had called to say the items on Parker’s to-do list were complete. Her place was still skimpy on furniture and accessories, but the entire space had been repainted and all the essentials had been replaced. She no longer had a valid excuse to stay with him, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about making their temporary living arrangement permanent.

  Once she was back in her own home, they would fall into the dating routine, see each other once or twice a week, maybe talk on the telephone a few times. No more seeing his face over breakfast every morning, no more falling into bed with him every night, even if all they did was sleep. Which was all that had taken place in the last two weeks. Parker told herself Dean was being considerate.

  Still, the prospect of moving out was dismal and made her steps falter.

  “Parker!”

  She turned around to see who was calling her. The tiny remnants of her good mood vanished. Tyler stopped several feet from her. He wasn’t his usual handsome self. The clothes were still urbane, from his tan overcoat to the trousers with the knife-edge creases and the shoes polished to a mirror shine. His face, however, with his tired eyes and hollow cheeks, told of too many sleepless nights and skipped meals. And his nose was at the yellow stage of bruising and still painful-looking underneath the butterfly bandage. A gust of wind ruffled hair that wasn’t gelled to within an inch of its life. Parker tried but couldn’t recall Tyler ever in public without perfectly styled hair.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He stuffed his gloved hands in the pockets of his overcoat. “They let me out on bail.”

  The more serious charges, including attempted murder, against Tyler had been dropped and Dean had lied to Renata about the false confession to throw her off guard. However, even though he hadn’t been behind the break-ins and the drive-by shooting, Tyler had allowed the police to believe Renata was his alibi for the night of the second break-in and had subsequently been charged with a misdemeanor. Parker was surprised he hadn’t managed to work a deal with the authorities to get the charge dismissed yet.

  “I tried calling you.”

  “I turned off my cell phone,” she told him. Her shoulders tensed. She looked around, uncertain and uncomfortable. “Too many people calling to get the gritty details for some sort of sick vicarious thrill.”

  He nodded. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything you have to say that I would want to hear.”

  “Please, hear me out. I’ve been waiting for the last four days to catch you alone. Everyone working in Maxwell’s building turned me away.”

  For a second, she was paralyzed with fear. Her eyes darted back to Dean’s building, back to Henry. Tyler quickly lifted his hands up, palms facing out. “I just want to talk,” he reassured quickly. He gestured behind her. “We can sit on that bench over there. This will only take a few minutes. I promise.”

  She considered him and his request for a long moment. Finally, she nodded and went to the wrought iron bench. Gathering her own thigh-length coat tightly around her, she sat down. Tyler joined her, careful to keep a foot of space between them. The silence stretched between them as he sorted out what he had to say.

  “I know it’s not enough, but I want to apologize for what Renata did to you and Maxwell.” He took a breath. “And I want to tell you I hired a criminal lawyer for Renata. He plans to go for an in
sanity plea.”

  Parker’s throat was suddenly dry. “If he’s successful, she won’t do any jail time.”

  “No, but she might be in a psychiatric hospital for the rest of her life.”

  A hitch in his voice made her stare at him. He turned his head away, but not before she caught the redness of his eyes, the sheen that hadn’t been there earlier.

  “You love her,” Parker said softly, incredulously.

  He exhaled, his chest seeming to deflate, and shrugged, the movement stiff. “Maybe. Probably.”

  She shook her head as if to clear it. “Then I don’t understand it. Why did you let her believe you were still hung up on me?”

  One of his shoulders twitched in a half-shrug. “I don’t know.”

  An invisible string inside her drew taut, very close to snapping. “You don’t know? You had a beautiful woman so devoted to you she changed her appearance to please you, and you went and ruined the relationship even though you were starting to love her. Tyler, for such an intelligent man, you’re an idiot.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “I liked knowing she wanted to please me, would do anything to please me.”

  Try as she might, Parker couldn’t stop gritting her teeth. “You didn’t have to make her insanely jealous to get that!”

  “What I did was stupid and wrong. I know.” His voice lowered to barely more than a whisper. “And now Renata’s paying for it.”

  Some of Parker’s anger abated as she witnessed Tyler’s very real remorse and pain. He was so different from the man she’d dated and ultimately decided wasn’t suitable.

  “Normal people don’t react as extremely as she did. If she’s sentenced to a psychiatric hospital, maybe she’ll get the help she needs.”

  Tyler didn’t seem to hear her. “I didn’t realize what she was doing until it was too late. Or maybe I just refused to see it.” He sat back and stared blankly into the distance while Parker had the uneasy feeling she wasn’t done with the role of father confessor. “She came to me one night, wearing lingerie I thought looked a lot like something that belonged to you. I didn’t ask her about it; I just assumed it was a coincidence.”