Shattered Rules

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Shattered Rules Page 12

by Allder, Reggi


  “If it was then it wouldn't be life. Would it?” He winked.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “We all search for happiness, looking for free will, but we're ruled by duty and are pawns of fate.”

  She heard pain in his quiet voice. What duties hid in the shadows of his life?

  “We find contentment within the confines of our circumstance. Count your blessings.”

  “I count you as one of those blessings Brick.”

  He cleared his throat.

  They sat in silence, the tranquil night interrupted only by the sound of feral cats fighting outside the cabin.

  “It’s a jungle out there,” he joked.

  She wanted to laugh, but there was little humor because now she knew that in so many ways his statement was true.

  She let her head rest against his shoulder and inhaled his masculine fragrance. A warm sensation swept through her. She wanted this night to last, because soon he’d be gone and she’d never see him again.

  “It’s getting late. We better get some sleep.” He sat up and stretched.

  “Okay,” she answered, not really wanting to sleep. It occurred to her they could share a bed tonight. Though she ached for him to hold her, kiss her, fill her, she knew he had no interest in her. She sighed.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Everything’s fine.” She tried to force her lips into a smile. “Just fine.”

  “Then get to bed. I'll lock up the house.”

  “Thanks for helping with dinner.”

  He shrugged.

  “Goodnight Brick.”

  “Yeah.”

  While she got ready for bed, she couldn't help thinking about his continued kindness. He didn't have to help. He could be home taking care of his own life, wherever that might be. Instead, he was with her, putting himself in danger. He must have some feelings for her, had to care just a little. Why else would he still be here?

  In bed, she pictured him in the room above her. A shiver of yearning swept through her. With her eyes closed, she relived their kiss. Her budded breast tightened. She could feel his caress as he placed gentle but persuasive kisses on her neck. Her breath quickened. “Brick,” she whispered.

  Silence was her only answer.

  An hour later she was still awake. No amount of wishing could alter one moment of the past. No amount of hope would transform her future. She had to stop torturing herself. She stopped thinking of Brick. He was never going to be hers.

  ***

  Brick checked the doors and windows then found a comfortable position on the sofa in the great room. He glanced at his watch. One in the morning, Kelly was dreaming by now. He pictured her in bed and remembered the sweet taste of her. Damn. Against his better judgment he wanted her. It wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t stop his body from responding. He sat up and took a deep breath. Focus on the job at hand.

  Tomorrow he'd call a firm in Sacramento and ask them to install an alarm system in the cabin and in Kelly’s house in Palo Alto. If he gave the alarm company the right incentive, money, they’d do it ASAP.

  In a few days his job would be over and he’d be forced to leave her. Every level of protection he arranged now gave him some assurance she’d be all right when he was gone.

  Before he’d seen her again, he was sure he’d be indifferent to her plight. He’d been wrong. That took him by surprise. But living with her, touching her, kissing her changed everything. He wasn’t detached, couldn’t be. Soon his assignment would be over and he’d leave her. Then she’d be guarded by other agents who didn’t care about her like he did and so could be indifferent to her survival.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The man drove the green SUV onto the graveled road that over looked the cabin. He had to be careful. He'd almost been spotted earlier tonight when he followed Kelly home from the grocery store.

  The intruder turned off the SUV’s headlights and used only the light of the moon to steer the car toward the grove of pines near Kelly’s cabin. He backed the SUV under the trees, and parked facing the house. He smiled. They hadn’t spotted him when he followed the Volvo from the grocery store.

  The lights went off first on the bottom floor and then on the second floor of the old place. He leaned against the seat back and zipped his down jacket. The girl was in there. The stolen system must be close by. It wasn't in the cabin. He’d searched for it before she arrived. Still, she wouldn’t come to this mountain village if it wasn’t nearby. The last light went out in the cabin. His prey was settled for the night. He relaxed but didn’t close his eyes.

  ***

  In the morning, Brick looked out the living room window to the ridge. A green SUV was pulling out from under the pines that overlooked the house. He could see a Nevada license plate, but it was too far away to read it. The driver's face was hidden behind a floppy brimmed fishing hat and sunglasses. Just an early morning fisherman he thought, but his skin crawled. The vehicle looked too much like the SUV he’d seen last night on the way back from the supermarket. He shook off his concern, probably paranoia. After all, the mountains were filled with SUVs like this one. Anyway, the vehicle wasn’t watching the cabin it was moving away from it.

  In the bathroom he showered and remembered Kelly kissing him in this room, her breast brushing against him. His temperature surged. It wasn’t just her body that attracted him. Her kindness moved him. She wanted to help because he was hurt and for no other reason. At the sight of even a little blood, Carrie would’ve retreated and left him to bleed.

  He remembered Carrie’s face when she’d seen him lying in the hospital bed years earlier. She’d recoiled from him, revulsion in her expression. At that moment he’d hated her. Now he didn’t blame her. With a gash in his forehead and his eye purple and swollen shut he was a horror show. More than that, she’d fallen in love with a strong healthy guy. Just before they were to be marriage, she’d come face to face with an invalid who might lose his leg. That was never part of their bargain. He’d promised he’d take care of her not the other way around. That day she’d left his engagement ring on the hospital nightstand and he’d never seen her again.

  After the break-up he’d deceived himself as only a man betrayed by love can. He didn’t need love. It was overrated and he didn't want any part of it. When Carrie rejected him, a scab had formed on his heart. Yesterday it had been torn away by Kelly’s compassion.

  Be careful. She’s as undependable as her sister. Forget her. She was Johnny’s girl and an FBI assignment he had to complete before he returned to the San Francisco Bureau, nothing more.

  Shit. Sitting on his butt was giving him too much time to think about his feelings, something he didn’t want right now. He had to spark some action. If he could get Johnny pissed off maybe the guy would make a mistake and he’d be there when Johnny did.

  Kelly had to stay and wait for her sister. But he didn’t have to be with her every minute. He’d get a promise from her to remain in the cabin. After what happened at the hotel, he was sure she’d do it.

  He punched in the Big Top Casino phone number and asked for Mr. Vega.

  An hour later, he entered the casino and found the elevator to the penthouse suite. A guard stood at elevator door. He noted the holstered gun under the man's left arm. It ruined the line of his expensive designer suit.

  Brick had locked his gun in the glove box of the alarmed Volvo. He’d never get in to see Johnny if he had a weapon.

  “I’m Brick Larson to see Johnny Vega,” he said as he put his arms out so the man could pat him down

  Afterward, the thug opened the elevator and let him enter. He pressed the button of the private elevator and the doors closed and the lift rose smoothly toward the penthouse.

  A travertine marble floor covered the entry of the of Johnny’s domain. A stout middle-aged woman with blonde hair and black roots, sat at a huge chrome and glass desk.

  “Mr. Larson?” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Come
this way.” She walked down a hallway and then ushered him into a massive office.

  A wall of windows, with city and desert views dominated the room. Gold framed, original California landscape paintings hung from the tan suede covered walls. A plush modern geometric rug was under foot. And large antique bronzes flanked an ornate cherry wood ormolu trimmed desk. The room held the pungent aroma of Cuban cigars.

  Johnny Vega sat behind the desk and didn't get up when he entered.

  Dressed in business casual attire of linen and silk GQ would be proud to exhibit, Johnny leaned back in his ergonomic desk chair, the epitome of sophisticated nonchalance.

  Nonetheless, the guy’s hawk-like eyes twitched. He scrutinized him head to foot and smiled the smile of a predator.

  “What do you want Larson?” Vega finally stood up from his desk standing a couple of inches taller than his six foot three inches. He leaned forward in the language of intimidation.

  “I’m here to tell you to leave Kelly Shaw alone.” He glared at Johnny.

  Vega tensed. “You’re out of date. I dumped the bitch and haven’t seen her in weeks.”

  He cringed when he heard Kelly called a bitch. “You sent men to ransack her home and threaten her. Call off the goon squad.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “I’m being real polite Mr. Vega. But don’t push your luck. Leave her alone. Or I’ll have to come back in an official capacity and neither of us wants that.”

  Johnny blinked. “Just who the hell are you?”

  “It’s on a need to know basis and right now you don’t need to know. Just forget her or you’ll wish you never found out who I am.”

  Vega’s eyes narrowed. “I have friends in high places who’d take a dim view of that kind of talk.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Vega flexed his biceps and fisted his hands “No need for any trouble as I told you, I dumped the bitch. But now you’re harassing me Larson.” His mouth twisted into a smile.

  The phony grin turned Brick stomach but he smiled back. “I’d never harass an important man like you Mr. Vega. I just wanted to give you a heads up so we’re both on the same page. Kelly’s an old friend of mine. If I was convinced you were trying to hurt her, I’d be forced to stop you.”

  Silence filled the room.

  “Tell her to return what she took,” Johnny said his voice as rough as coarse sandpaper.

  “Stay away from her Mr. Vega.”

  A man dressed in a black silk suit and a red dress shirt rushed into the office. With his dark hair slicked back, he looked like an ad for the young Mafia.

  A counter point to Johnny's suave sophistication, he was a street thug in expensive clothes. A telltale bulge under the left arm of his designer jacket told of his concealed weapon.

  “Sorry to bother you boss, but they're waitin’ to start the meeting. Everybody's in the conference room.”

  “Let them wait. I have a call to make. And Mr. Larson is leaving,” Johnny said as he left the room.

  “This way out.” The young hood crooked his head toward the door and patted the gun under his left arm.

  Satisfied Vega knew Kelly was under his protection, he followed the punk.

  Half way to the elevator, the double doors of a conference room stood open. Several men sat a massive ebony conference table. Brick paused and tried to memorize their faces. He’d pick them out of a mug book later.

  A slim, Asian man in his late forties glared at him. The man's expression challenged him. Brick instinctively knew this man was important. Their eyes caught. He’d seen the guy before, but where?” He memorized the man’s features and sensed the stranger was doing the same. Their eyes held until the punk closed the conference room doors.

  “Elevator’s this way,” the thug said.

  Brick rushed toward it. He wanted to sketch the face of the man in the conference room before it faded from his memory.

  Back in the Volvo, he searched the glove compartment for the sketch pad he always carried. With a black Conte crayon he began to draw the man’s face.

  ***

  A pang of guilt sent a quiver through Kelly. She’d told Brick she’d stay in the cabin. No matter how much she wanted to keep her word, she couldn’t. Agent Ted Simmons was waiting for her. They’d go together to retrieve Johnny’s flash drive. Once it was in Agents Simmons’ hands everything would be okay. She’d have her life back and her sister would be safe too.

  Looking for excitement, she’d unwittingly become involved with a vicious mobster. Now she could be implicated in—she still wasn’t sure what. No matter, at this point it wouldn’t do any good to understand. Soon she’d be out of it.

  With a groan, she remembered the day Ted Simmons introduced himself as an FBI agent and asked for her help. Sure he was a weirdo trying to make an impression on her, she’d laughed at him. He’d persisted and had shown her his identification. When she was finely convinced, he told her to watch Johnny and his friends. She should pay attention to Johnny’s private conversations with his people. When she did the grim underworld he functioned in had become clear.

  Terrified, she’d wanted to run, but how could she say no to the FBI’s request to help them? So for the short term anyway, she had stayed. When an opportunity presented itself, she had grabbed the flash drive and run.

  She cringed at the memory.

  After Brick left the cabin, she’d put a note on the entry hall table, saying she’d return soon. She hoped he’d never read it because she’d be back before he got it. He’d never know she’d broken her promise.

  Her fingers ached from squeezing the Honda’s steering wheel. Her life and sister’s life depended on her getting the damned flash drive ASAP. Simmons had said it was safer for her if she didn’t know what was on it. At the time she’d accepted that explanation. Today she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was used by the FBI without concern for her or her sister’s safety.

  Traffic was light. She’d meet up with Simmons on time. In a short while it’d be over.

  She flinched remembering a few days ago when she’d rushed to get away from Johnny. On the way out, she’d slipped on the stairway. Falling down several steps, she twisted her ankle and hit her face on the landing. Her cell phone must have fallen from her purse when she tumbled. She hadn’t dared to go back for it. Instead she’d just driven home. Now she wished she had retrieved it.

  Her heart raced. Stop She took a deep breath. Her emotions had to be kept under control at least until she was finished meeting with the FBI. After that it’ wouldn’t matter if she fell apart. She wiped a drop of sweat just before it ran down her neck and into her bra and then turned on the air conditioner. Her hand was shaking.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A modest log cabin nestled in a small grove of birch trees at the shore of Lake Tahoe came into view as she rounded the corner. She drove the Honda onto the gravel driveway and turned off the engine.

  She knocked on the front door. No answer. She peeked into the garage window. A blue Ford truck was parked inside. Simmons must be home.

  She knocked again. Her knuckles hurt from rapping on the door. Annoyance ran down her spine. He knew she was coming today. His truck was in the garage. Why didn’t he answer?

  Could he be hurt and unable to come to the door? She squinted and looked in the front window but couldn’t see into the dark of the living room. No sounds emanated from inside the cabin.

  Her hands turned cold as her blood raced from her extremities. He must be dead. Stop. Don’t let your imagination run away with you. Instead of jogging back to the car, she stood on the front porch. She had to give Ted Simmons the flash drive. So the mess she was would end.

  Maybe he was a sleep. He did work nights at the casino.

  A dog barked. She followed the sound to the back of the property.

  From a wooden pier on the edge of the lake, a yellow lab came bounding toward her, wagging its tail. At the end of the pier Ted Simmons, holding a fishing rod, stood sta
ring at her. He smiled.

  Thank God.

  “Hi Ted.” She smiled at the forty something average height and average weight man with brown hair and eyes, the generic Caucasian male. Perhaps that’s why he did undercover work. He was so ordinary, so forgettable. Just a guy you’d see anywhere and not pay attention to him.

  He grinned.

  She smiled, relieved, everything was okay. Her horrendous situation was almost over. “It’s beautiful out here on the lake.” She walked toward him.

  “Yeah, fishing’s good and the house is comfortable. I don’t usually get such a plush assignment.”

  The Labrador circled her demanding to be petted. She scratched his ear. He wagged his tail.

  “His name is Yeller. Not original, but he doesn’t seem to mind,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  He walked back to the end of the pier and picked up his tackle box and then returned “Let me stow this gear and toss the fish in the fridge. Then we’ll get the flash drive. We‘ll take your car.”

  “Okay.”

  Kelly sat in the driver’s seat of the Honda and waited for Agent Simmons. She pushed down her impatience. It’d take about twenty minutes to reach the hiding place. In less than an hour it’d be over and she could go home. She and Carrie would be out of danger.

  Fifteen minutes later the sky darkened. The wind blew off the lake and the air turned cold. How long did it take to put the fish and tackle away? Maybe he was going clean the damn fish before he came out to the car.

  Women had a bad rap of always making men wait. But lately she’d been forced to wait, first for Brick at the casino and now for Agent Simmons.

  She got out of the car and was hit by a gust of cold wind. She stood for a moment and let it cool her hot temper. Calm down it’s almost over.

  Back at the front, she banged on it. “Damn it Ted, what’s taking so long?” She rubbed her hand and couldn’t bear the thought of hitting the door again.

  The handle turned and the door opened easily. The drapes were still closed when she entered the living room. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She left the front door open to let a ray of light penetrate the shadows. Decorated in pine furniture with plaid upholstery, the room was homey but empty of people.

 

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