Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series)

by Loy, Tracie Ingersoll

  “It’s not April 15th yet, Jack. I planned to file legitimately.”

  “Yeah, if you’re not dead. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “At the time, it seemed like a good idea.”

  “That’s the problem, Cassie. It always seems like a good idea.” His voice was cold and exact, spitting each word out like a bullet.

  “That’s not fair, Jack.” She looked him straight in the eye, challenging him. “And you know it.”

  “It might not be fair, but that’s how I see it.” He paced back and forth on the sand, grinding his feet in. “You have put me in a very bad situation, not to mention your friend and her family’s safety.”

  “You? I didn’t know we were going to be together.”

  “Honey, we aren’t together, we’re involved!” He stood over her, blasting his words. “Ah, hell.” He frowned and shook his head. “Just out of curiosity, where’s the money?”

  For a moment, she pushed the sand around with her shoe and sighed. “I opened an offshore account in the Cayman Islands and transferred it all into that.”

  His mouth gaped opened, and he stared at her. “Ah, shit.” He threw up his hands and stormed off towards the house.

  “Where are you going?” Cassie shouted, standing with her hands on her hips.

  He turned and replied with the same intensity, “I’m leaving before I say something I’ll regret.”

  A look of devastation spread over her face. “Ah, Jack.”

  The door slammed shut on the truck. The Tahoe peeled out of the driveway, spitting up mud, and then skidded to a stop, reversing, spinning tires, and then forward, out of sight.

  Cassie watched, her heart pounding, and she could barely breathe. “Jack,” she yelled, running after him. “Jack!” Her feet slipped on the soft mud, sending her flying, face forward in a pool of dark goo. Lifting her muddy face, she sobbed, “I’ve loved you since I was twelve.”

  Barreling down the road, Jack slammed on the brakes at the entrance to the county park. His temper was out of control, and he knew it. In the cab of his truck, he unleashed every word he’d wanted to yell at Cassie. No wonder Kip’s contacts had said to be worried. If the Russians got their hands on her, they’d kill her.

  Finally he felt back in control. There was still time to catch the ferry. His mind was going a mile a minute thinking about Cassie at the nightclub. She had been very brave, especially with Butkovsky showing up. Cassie was absolutely correct in that she wasn’t safe in Seattle. Heading north up the island, the road forked left for the ferry but he went right, pulling into the marina, parking next to Kip’s SUV.

  Still beyond pissed, he tried not to stomp down the pier to the boat, but failed. Jack stepped onboard the DeFever, and Kip glanced up from his makeshift office in the wheelhouse. He motioned for his friend to come on in. Kip headed down to the galley and returned with two beers.

  “Let me guess. Cassie?” asked Kip.

  Jack downed half his beer before he answered. “One hundred and eighty thousand dollars of mob money is what she took. Oh, wait a minute, not took, transferred. She transferred it into her account. Hell, I forgot about the five hundred.”

  Kip raised his brows and whistled. “No wonder they’re looking for her.”

  “Oh, no. Not just her. They’ve now gone after her friend, showed up at the daughters’ school, and threatened the husband at the bank, where the fuckhead actually had one of his accounts. Koslov is out for blood, which tells me that wasn’t his money and the pressure is on him.”

  “Ah, Christ.” Kip sucked in his breath and shook his head. “So she did know what he was doing?”

  “Hell no. She stumbled upon the whole thing after she left and was on the run.” He drained the last of his beer, glaring at no one in particular.

  “Have you had lunch yet?” asked Kip.

  “No.”

  “Let’s go down to the galley, have some beers and lunch. Every time I leave that café, I get more food handed to me.”

  Kip opened two more beers and handed Jack four wrapped sandwiches of various choices. They each picked one. Kip found a yellow tablet and joined Jack at the small galley table.

  “Tell me everything you know. I’m listening.” He took notes and when he finished, Kip scratched his head and said. “She should be in data mining or computer forensics, not an actress.” He started to laugh.

  “There’s nothing funny about this.”

  “Actually, there is. I’m picturing all this money coming in to his accounts, with a hit of a button, gone, leaving a wake of red flags waving, bank auditors jumping, and Koslov sitting there with his finger up his ass.”

  Jack still didn’t see the humor. “I can’t even guess how many laws she’s broken, not to mention putting me in a bad position.”

  “First off, she didn’t know she was putting you in a bad position, so let it go. I’m not sure she’s broken any laws, if she pays her taxes on it.” Kip shrugged. “But why one eighty? Why not two hundred?”

  “Because that was the amount she figured she lost in wages from Koslov…injuring her, making her unable to work.” Jack gritted his teeth.

  “And now he’s going after her friends, and he won’t stop. He’s going for blood, and it’s just going to get worse. No wonder she won’t leave the island.” Kip pushed the yellow pad away and crossed his arms. “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “Eliminate the fucker,” Jack said with a cold, clear voice.

  “You can do that.” Kip looked at him long and hard.

  “But that would be illegal.”

  “Only if you’re caught. I can make all the arrangements. Just give me the word.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Her throat hurt, and her eyes ached. Cassie swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled the covers around her. She breathed in deeply, smelling Jack. Somewhere in the middle of the night, she’d forced herself off the sofa that she’d occupied for a day and a half and into bed. Tossing and turning all night long, she woke still feeling tired. She closed her eyes. Tired or was it weary? And then she could hear Jack saying, Oh, come on, Princess, if that’s all you have to complain about. She wanted to shout back, I’m tired, but her mind wouldn’t stop there and leaped forward. I’m tired of the drama that I’ve embraced in my life.

  Instantly wide awake, Cassie sat up in bed. One realization led to another. “I’m tired of allowing myself to be a victim.” She gasped. “As long as you choose to be a victim, you cannot see the lesson. Victims react in fear.” Oh, God, it was like a lightning bolt struck her.

  At the moment, there wasn’t a lot she could do about Jack, but there was plenty she could do about herself. Cassie kicked off the covers, grabbed her clothes, and ran to the bathroom. She turned on the heater and jumped in the shower. Trying to slow her brain down with all the reality messages, Cassie shampooed and scrubbed her head. When that didn’t work, she just stood under the water, letting it cascade over her, hoping her old persona would just wash away.

  “I get it, okay? I will no longer feel sorry for myself,” she yelled.

  Ready to tackle the day, it was time to ascertain her situation. She pulled her phone out of her jean’s pocket, wishing magically it would ring with Jack calling. She wondered if the darn thing even worked on the island. Jack’s did, but this was a prepaid one. There was one way to find out.

  Cassie yanked open a kitchen drawer and found a local phone directory. She looked up the Ferry Dock café and called it.

  “Hang on,” she yelled, and ran out on the deck.

  Still garbled, she walked to the edge of the property. Now she heard Jeannie just fine. She came back in the house and on the note pad she wrote phone - iffy.

  Transportation. She stared at the paper and blinked her eyes. Sorry, Blue, she thought, I wish you were he
re, but you’re not. Cassie bolted out of her seat and sprinted to the shed. Parked in the corner was her mother’s light blue Schwinn with a basket. Somewhere between laughing and crying, she wheeled her mom’s bike out. Hopefully the tires just needed air. She found a pump in the shed and put air in the tires. In the mudroom, she found a can of WD-40, grabbed it, and sprayed everything on the bike that she thought needed it. Cassie rechecked the tires, and they were still firm. She rode around the yard, laughing.

  It wasn’t raining, and she was hungry. The Ferry Dock café wasn’t just Jack’s place, but hers, too. She went there way before Jack ever did. Cassie pulled on a hoodie, took a twenty out of her wallet but stopped. If she wanted to be independent, Cassie didn’t want to rely on anyone. She grabbed a knapsack from the mudroom and placed Jack’s laptop in it. There was just one more thing; Cassie picked a coffee cup from the cabinet. Her cup would sit in the café’s pine cupboard along with everyone else. Now she was ready to head in to town.

  Thirty minutes later, she parked her bike outside the café. A tiny twinge of doubt needled her. Without Jack, they liked her, right? Smiling, she headed in. Kip sat at the counter and Jeannie stood behind it, talking to him. Jeannie glanced up and grinned, looking happy to see her. Only two other customers occupied a table by the window. Very different from Monday and Tuesday.

  “It’s good to see you,” said Jeannie. Kip smiled, too. “Come join us at the counter.”

  “I’d like to.” Cassie took a seat by Kip. Trying to ease through the awkward moment, she reached into the knapsack and pulled out her cup and set it on the counter. “I brought my own cup. I hope that was okay.”

  “Well, sure. Let’s get it filled and an order going for you.” Jeannie filled her cup. “We weren’t sure if you headed back to Seattle with Jack or decided to stay.”

  It would have been easy to shrug them off with a lame excuse, but Cassie wanted to own up to the situation. Adopting her new mantra, she took a big breath and replied, “To be honest, Jack is a little upset with me. Actually, more than a little and…I stayed here.” She fiddled with her coffee cup. “That was why I tried calling you this morning to see if my phone worked here on the island. It really doesn’t unless I stand out by the sand. So I don’t know if he’s tried to call me or not.” Cassie pulled the phone out of her pocket and put it on the counter.

  Kip picked it up and looked at it. “This is a prepaid phone.” He examined it a bit more. “You don’t have texting, which sometimes works when voice doesn’t.”

  “No. Jack’s phone worked great at the house with no problem. We’re sort of in communication limbo. I brought the laptop in to do e-mails and on the ride in, I realized I don’t have Jack’s address, and he doesn’t have mine.”

  Winnie poked her head through the opening and placed a plate on ledge. “You need to eat.” She disappeared back in the kitchen.

  Cassie dove into her breakfast, not paying attention to Kip and Jeannie. Even though she hadn’t ordered the omelet, somehow Winnie understood.

  “Honey, I’m leaving for the office.” Kip got up to leave and handed Cassie a napkin.

  She smiled. Jack’s e-mail address. “Thank you.”

  “He’ll figure it out.”

  Jeannie walked Kip to the door, and they stepped outside. When she returned, Montana had joined her, carrying a couple of cloth shopping bags. She took a seat next to Cassie. Before Jeannie could fill her cup Montana said, “Good news. According to Ray, the women at the compound were able to return to Canada. I swung by the church, and there’s a notice on the door stating Reverend Black is taking a leave of absence, but that’s not all.” Montana prepped her coffee with several sugars and cream.

  Jeannie and Cassie waited for her to continue, finally Jeannie said, “So what is it?”

  “Reverend Black has hired a topnotch attorney out of Seattle to represent her on insanity charges. The church’s women’s league is organizing a fundraiser to help with the costs. I said I would help.”

  “You!” said Jeannie.

  “Yes, I really feel if we’d stepped up in the beginning, which Ray kept saying wasn’t our business, Margery Anne might not be up on murder charges. Though she did save the taxpayers a lot of money by bumping him off.” Montana pulled out a decorated coffee can and placed it on the counter. “So what do you think? I’m making these for the women’s league to place on all the islands so people can donate money.”

  Cassie glanced at Jeannie, who had her hands on her hips, looking at Montana a little oddly.

  “But that’s not all,” Montana said.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I’m also going to hold a weekend seminar at Eagle’s Nest Lodge on the empowerment of women. Brooke said she’d only charge us at cost, and all the proceeds will go to the legal bill. Ray said he would teach self-defense techniques. Jeannie, I thought you might want to donate your pies, and Cassie, you would be great demonstrating the skills, being that you are an actress.”

  Looking at Jeannie’s expression, Cassie started to laugh. “Sure, when is it?”

  “I’m making all the arrangements now. Jeannie?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Great. Big schedule today. Thanks for the coffee. I’ve got to go.” Montana waved and flew out the door.

  “Have you ever heard of the expression guilt is the gift that keeps on giving?” Jeannie asked Cassie. “I think there’s some major guilt giving going on, and I sure would like to know why.”

  Winnie poked her head through the opening and said, “Did I hear all that correctly?” She pointed at Cassie. “You’re not done eating.” She handed Jeannie a plate with a cinnamon roll on it.

  “Jeannie, would you mind if I sat over by the window and checked my e-mail and stuff? I might be an hour or two.”

  “Not at all. Send Jack a simple message.” She smiled at her. “You know, Cassie, below the surf of rough water, is calm. Sometimes you have to let it run its course.”

  “Thanks, Jeannie.”

  Cassie picked a table in the corner by the window. After reading her e-mails, it was time to compose one to Jack. Keeping it simple was harder than she thought. Finally, she settled on: Jack, I understand why you are angry. You have every right to be. I am sorry if I jeopardized your job in any way. Now the dilemma of signing it. Did she put love in or just Cassie? “What the hell,” she muttered and signed it with love. He wasn’t talking to her anyway. Before hitting send, she thought of his words, “It always seems like a good idea to you.”

  She pushed back in her chair, folded her arms, and studied her screen. Jeannie walked over.

  “Are you having a hard time with your e-mail?” she asked.

  “No. I’m just trying to decide how to sign it. Cassie or love, Cassie?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Then put love. You can blame me.”

  Cassie hit send. Her next agenda of business was Sergei.

  Jack had taught her many things, including planning her attack. Tonight, she would plan. Tomorrow, she would execute. Cassie checked the Friday ferry schedule to Vancouver Island. She researched Wi-Fi hot spots so that she could work below the radar. When you mess with my friends, asshole, you mess with me.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The first thing Jack did when he arrived at work Wednesday morning was file a personal report to his boss about his involvement with Cassie. Legal promised him an answer by Thursday. Restless, he waited. The stack of paperwork that greeted him had diminished by several inches. Starting his day at six in the morning helped.

  His phone dinged with a text message from Kip. “BTW - Cassie’s prepaid phone doesn’t work on island.”

  Like hell it does, he thought. But the more he thought about it, he realized he’d not called her on the phone while he was
up there. Okay, Kip, what are you really saying?

  Another text came through. “You might want to check your e-mail.”

  He blew out air and muttered, “Oh, great.”

  “Hey, Jack.” He looked up. Heather stood in the door. “Do you have a minute?” She now leaned against the frame.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to hear about the island.”

  “I’m going to brief everyone at three.” He stared at Heather. She didn’t budge. “Was there something more?”

  “Actually, yes. It’s none of my business but…”

  “You’re right. It’s not.”

  “Like I was saying, it’s none of my business as a coworker, but as a friend, I was wondering if everything was okay. You bit off everyone’s head yesterday more than once, and we’re still feeling it today. It’s not like you.”

  “Did the guys put you up to this?”

  “No. They’re too clueless to figure it out. Before you left, I saw a really happy man, and while you were up in the islands, I spoke with a really happy guy. I’m just wondering what happened to that man.”

  He glared at her. “Don’t you have something to do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then go do it.”

  She pushed away from the frame and took a firm stance. “You need to go fix whatever happened between you and Cassie. Apologize, fix it, do whatever it takes. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.” Heather turned to leave.

  “What makes you think it’s my fault?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder and flashed him a look. “That’s easy. Because you’re the man.”

  “Leave,” he said tersely.

  Heather replied, “Man.”

  Frustrated waiting to hear from legal, Jack picked up the phone and called his boss who was just getting ready to call him.