by Marie Astor
“I’m sorry, Peter,” was all Janet could manage. She wanted Muller and Finnegan to get the punishment they deserved. Even more so, she wanted Kingsley to get his. But as much as Janet longed to bring these scoundrels to justice, she did not want to do it at the expense of an innocent woman.
“Oh, forget it. Once Aileen finds out the truth she’ll never want to see me again. If you want to get the information you’re after, you’d better get out of here and let me go on with my fake date.”
Dennis squeezed Laskin’s shoulder. “I appreciate your help, Peter. Believe me, I understand how difficult it is for you, but no one ever said that our job is easy.”
Silently, Janet slunk after Dennis as he headed for the door. The emotions inside her were too conflicted for her to speak.
“I think that went rather well,” Dennis remarked once they were standing outside of Laskin’s building.
Janet’s eyes flew wide open. “I think it was a horrible thing to do.”
“A horrible thing to do?”
“Yes, a horrible thing to do. And even worse, you dragged me into it. If I knew about the stunt you were going to pull in there, there’s no way I would have come with you.”
“Are you telling me that having Muller get his justice served to him is a horrible thing to do? And let’s not forget Cornelius Finnegan and his honcho, Kingsley. Do you think that these crooks should be allowed to remain in public office, free to do whatever they please?”
Janet felt Dennis’s stare burrowing into her face. When she looked up, she was stunned to see that his eyes were filled with genuine bewilderment. Up until now, she had thought those blue eyes to be sexy, playful, and warm, but now she thought them calculating and hateful.
“I want Muller to get justice served to him as much as you do, probably more so. And God knows I have enough reasons to want to see Kingsley and Finnegan kicked out on their butts, but unlike you I still have some decency left.”
“Decency left?”
“Yes, decency. Don’t you think it’s wrong to use that poor woman? Don’t you even care about—” Janet cut herself short before she could blurt out what was truly on her mind.
“Care about what?” Dennis moved toward her, standing so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his skin.
Janet stared back at him. Don’t you care about me? She wanted to scream. Didn’t you care about me when you had me procure evidence for you for the Bostoff case? Or was I nothing but a source of information to you? But instead she said, “About the people involved.”
“Of course I care. But Janet, one must consider the good of many versus the good of one person.”
There, she had her answer. Janet hung her head to hide the tears that suddenly sprung up in her eyes. She felt like such an idiot. Why was it that she always ended up being attracted to the wrong guy? As it turned out, Dennis was no better than Alex. Dennis was just as ruthless and just as unprincipled. The only difference was that Dennis happened to play on a different side of the law—the side that just happened to be the right side—but the techniques that Dennis was willing to use to achieve his aim could hardly be called right.
“Do you think I like the idea of praying on the emotions of a lonely woman in order to get the evidence?” Dennis continued, oblivious to Janet’s turmoil.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
Dennis’s expression darkened. “That was uncalled for. I think you know me better than that.”
Do I? Janet wondered. At the moment, she had no idea who Dennis Walker was. “Do what you want, Dennis, but I no longer want anything to do with this case.”
Chapter 23
Dennis Walker pushed his laptop away and checked his watch. Instead of enjoying his Friday night, he was cooped up inside his apartment, waiting for Laskin to call. It was getting close: if Muller was indeed going to meet with Finnegan this Saturday, Dennis would need to know the place of their rendezvous right about now in order to make all the necessary preparations. Laskin was sure taking his time, but Dennis would be damned if he made the first move. This was just like playing the stare game: whoever blinked first, lost.
Laskin would call—Dennis was sure of it. Or at least he wanted to believe that he was sure of it because right now there were too many matters that he was unsure about. Like his investigation methods for one, and the reason he was in his profession for another. But right now was not the time to dwell on his doubts, just like it was not the time to think about the woman who had caused them: Janet Maple.
Is there nothing you would stop at to solve a case? she had asked him. Janet’s outraged voice still rang in Dennis’s ears, and the repulsed expression on her face hung before his eyes. The honest answer to Janet’s question was no. No, he had stopped at nothing to solve a case until … until he met Janet Maple. If Dennis had known about the havoc Janet would bring into his life, he would have run in the opposite direction from the Bostoff Securities undercover assignment. Laskin had wanted the job, but Dennis had snatched it from under his nose, and now Dennis was paying the price—had been paying the price ever since Janet Maple crossed his path.
Is there nothing you would stop at to solve a case? How could she ask him that when he had gone out on a limb in order to secure immunity for her and her friend Lisa during the Bostoff investigation? How could Janet doubt him when he had done everything he could to ensure that Jon Bostoff would receive credit for his cooperation with the investigation? Another investigator would not have cared, but Dennis had put his neck on the line because he wanted a just outcome for the investigation. Jon Bostoff’s biggest offense was that he had been stupid enough to become Muller’s pawn. And as for Janet and Lisa, they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Muller was the true culprit.
Dennis had even gone as far as putting in a good word for Janet with his boss at the Treasury. After all, Dennis felt responsible for Janet losing her job as assistant general counsel at Bostoff Securities, so he had gotten her a job at the Treasury Investigations department—a job that he knew she would be good at. Was it easy for him to come to work every day and see the woman he wanted to do a number of things to in the bedroom but instead having his interactions with her reduced to no more than a handshake and an occasional kiss on the cheek? No, but he did it anyway because he was a decent guy. And what was his reward? The case against David Muller was thrown out for lack of evidence, and Jon Bostoff was made the scapegoat. Hardly the career-making achievement Dennis had hoped the Bostoff / Muller case would be. Not to mention that Dennis’s boss was later fired to be replaced with the arrogant—and, as was now known, corrupt—Alex Kingsley. If this was not enough to make one go on the war path, Dennis did not know what was. He had thought that Janet was his wingman, but now that they were a mere hairbreadth away from getting the evidence they needed, Dennis learned that his wingman did not have his back.
Is there nothing you would stop at to solve a case? Dennis shook his head. At the time, his plan had seemed perfect. How could he have ever predicted that Laskin would lose his head over Aileen Finnegan? Laskin who was Mr. Do-it-by-the-book and was always so eager to get out into the field? And what did Laskin do the moment he got into the field? Messed up the entire case. But apparently Janet thought it forgivable for Laskin to compromise the investigation, accusing Dennis of being in the wrong.
The sound of Dennis’s ringing cell phone jerked him out of his reverie. He looked at the caller ID and could not resist a grin of satisfaction when he saw Laskin’s number. “Yes,” was all Dennis said when he answered the phone, deciding to make Laskin squirm a little.
“Dennis, it’s me, Peter.”
“I know. I’ve got one of those caller ID things. What is it you want to tell me on a Friday night, Peter? Or are you calling to ask me out on a date?”
“I have the information you asked for, and I’d appreciate it if you’d put your sarcasm on ice for the duration of this conversation,” Laskin said, his voice cool as a cucumber.
“
You sure took your time getting me the information I need, so let’s hear it before it becomes irrelevant.”
“Muller is going to meet with Finnegan tomorrow at eight p.m. at Keens steakhouse. They will be sitting in a private dining room on the second floor.”
“Excellent. Now why did you have to wait until Friday evening to tell me this valuable information?”
There was silence on the other end of the line, so Dennis furnished the answer to his own question. “Because you thought that if you waited this long I wouldn’t have enough time to get the evidence I need. But you’re wrong; I’ll still get it. Thank you for your help, Peter.” Dennis was about to hang up when Laskin’s pleading voice erupted on the other side of the receiver.
“Promise that you’ll leave Aileen out of this!”
“I promise, Peter. If everything goes as planned, after tomorrow we’ll have more than enough evidence for the case.”
Dennis hung up the phone. Then he pulled up Janet’s number and pressed the dial button. One, two, three rings—could it be that she was avoiding him? Of course Dennis could have called from a private phone line, but he was not going to use that option. If he was going to get Janet’s help, he was going to get it with full disclosure, as she had requested.
“Why are you calling me?” Janet’s ice-cold voice cut like a knife.
“Whoa, Janet. Good evening to you too.” Dennis managed not to lose his cool. He had never heard her with such a tone of voice before. “Can you talk?” Dennis listened to the background noise in the receiver. Was she out with her girlfriends, being flirted at by some guys at a bar, or worse, out on a date?
“The question is not whether I can, but rather why should I want to?”
Fine, have it your way, Dennis thought. “Because, your royal ice highness, I have some valuable information that will help us solve the case, and I need your help.”
“The amazing Dennis Walker needs someone’s help. I never thought I’d see the day.”
She was teasing him, and she was enjoying it. Dennis, on the other hand, was not enjoying this in the least; he hated it when people had fun at his expense. “Cut the crap, Janet. Do you want to put Muller away or what? Or perhaps you like the idea of working for Kingsley?”
“No, I don’t. But neither do I like your unprincipled evidence-obtaining techniques.”
“That’s a long-winded phrase. Now, listen up. Here’s the deal: Finnegan is going to meet Muller tomorrow at eight at Keens. We need to get our behinds over there tomorrow to set things up.”
“What is it you want me to do?”
“Nothing much; just wear a pretty dress and smile a lot. I’ll take care of the rest. Do you think you could do that?”
“I can do a lot more than that. But before I agree to do anything, you have to tell me your plan. Assuming you have one, of course.”
“Well, then, this should be a piece of cake. See you tomorrow in front of Keens at five p.m. sharp.” Dennis hung up before Janet had the chance to unleash another one of her nasty remarks, which had been peppering her speech lately.
Chapter 24
Janet surveyed her reflection in the mirror. She had on a red knit dress with a surplice neckline and a flared skirt. Her feet were clad in black high-heeled boots. She had spent close to an hour with a curling iron, cajoling her hair to fall down her shoulders in soft, voluminous curls; the process had been tedious but the result was definitely worth it. A coat of cherry gloss shone on her lips, and her eyelashes looked lush and long, courtesy of Estee Lauder mascara. She liked what she saw, even if she did say so herself.
With the amount of care she had put into her looks, one would think she was primping for a date. Instead, she was preparing for a work assignment, or at least she thought that she was going on a work-related assignment. Dennis had said that he had a plan, and Janet hoped that her efforts would pay off. The possibility of success seemed slim, but she had said yes nonetheless. To be more specific, she did not get a chance to say yes or no, as Dennis had hung up on her before she could reply. She had considered standing him up, which she was fairly certain would be a new experience for Dennis and would serve him right, but then decided against it. Her opinion of Dennis’s tactics had not changed, but she worried that if left on his own, the man would ruin the investigation. At least this way, Janet would be there to contain him.
What a load of crap, Janet thought. The real reason she had spent close to two hours primping herself for her meeting with Dennis was because she wanted to see him, and she hated herself for it. Despite his questionable ethics—or to be precise, lack of such—she still turned to jelly every time she heard the man’s voice or saw his unbearably handsome face. Janet puffed her cheeks with air and blew it loudly out of her mouth. Dennis Walker was the bane of her existence. Not only was the man endangering the investigation with his reckless attitude, he was clouding Janet’s judgment with his good looks and smug yet somehow charming and irresistible demeanor. The man was a bona fide hazard.
Janet checked her reflection one last time. She could not remember the last time she had looked this decked out, which was another disquieting example of the power that Dennis Walker held over her. “This is for a work assignment. Our meeting will be purely professional,” Janet assured herself. “Work assignment, my ass,” she muttered, admitting the futility of her words. Sure, Dennis had asked her to look pretty, but there were many levels of pretty, and she had pulled out all the stops. Her heart was beating wildly, and her cheeks were flushed with anticipation. The truth of the matter was that, at the moment, she did not give a rat’s behind about both Muller and Finnegan combined. All she could think of was that it was Saturday, and she was about to see Dennis Walker.
It was five minutes past five when Janet approached the entrance to Keens steakhouse. She eyed the dark, old fashioned façade, failing to find any signs of Dennis Walker. She looked around, unsure what to do. Dennis had said five p.m., and she had been purposely late by five minutes to ensure that he would be the first one to arrive.
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re late,” a familiar voice whispered into her ear.
The jolt that Janet felt pulsating down her spine was anything but work-related. “You’re late yourself,” she snapped at Dennis. “I got here first.”
“I was waiting for you behind the corner. Being conspicuous is not my style.”
Janet’s cheeks grew warm. She was still a novice when it came to this whole undercover thing, and Dennis never missed an opportunity to remind her of the fact. Here was his chance to show her his skills. “So, are you going to tell me your plan?”
“Just follow my lead.”
“Follow your lead? Dennis, you’ve got to tell me more than that!”
By way of an answer, Dennis grabbed Janet’s hand and pushed the door open. “After you, my darling.”
Bewildered, Janet almost slipped down the stairs that led into the dimly lit foyer. She felt Dennis’s grip tightening to steady her, the effect of which was the opposite of the intended. It was bad enough that she was literally walking into another one of Dennis’s questionable schemes blindfolded, his proximity was making it very difficult for her already unnerved brain to function.
“Let me help you with your coat, dear.” Dennis placed his hands on Janet’s shoulders while she shrugged out of her coat. “Stunning.” Dennis eyed her dress as he took her coat from her.
“Thank you.” Janet hoped that the surge of satisfaction Dennis’s reaction had elicited in her was not written all over her face.
“Shall we?” Dennis nodded in the direction of the host’s desk.
“Lead the way.”
“Good afternoon,” Dennis nonchalantly addressed the restaurant host. “My girlfriend and I would like to enquire about private dining.”
The middle-aged, bespectacled host smiled at them benevolently. “Certainly, sir. We offer a number of banquet rooms ranging in size. May I ask the size of your party?”
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Dennis glanced at Janet. “Oh, I’d say about twenty people.”
The host nodded. “We have just the perfect room for you, sir. The Lilly Langtry Room. It seats twenty-five people comfortably, so you’ll have some room to spare.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Dennis approved. “Would it be possible to see it today?”
The host scratched his head hesitantly. “There’s an event taking place there tonight. I wish you would have called us to schedule an appointment.”
“Oh, but couldn’t we possibly see it tonight?” Janet managed in response to Dennis’s hand squeezing hers. “You see, we drove all the way from Long Island. We are joining my aunt and uncle for a Broadway play later in the evening, so we thought we’d come into the City extra early to stop by here on the way. That’s what the room is for—for my aunt and uncle’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. They don’t have any children, and we’ve always been so close. I so much want to make this a special occasion for them.” Janet clasped her hands in a gesture of appeal, stunned by her ability to improvise. She was just as good as Dennis Walker.
The host shot them a sympathizing glance. “Very well. I suppose we could arrange for a quick walk through.” He waved to one of the waiters standing nearby. “Fred here will give you the tour.”
“Good evening. Please follow me.” Fred smiled at them politely.
“Well done,” Dennis whispered into Janet’s ear as they followed Fred into the oak-clad interior of the restaurant. “Now, when we get inside the room, I want you to stick this into the wall paneling.” Dennis shoved a metal object the size of a watch battery into Janet’s hand.
Janet’s earlier bravado evaporated. With the last bit of self-control, she placed her arm around Dennis’s shoulder as though reaching to nuzzle his ear with her lips. “You want me to bug the room?” she hissed. “Are you insane?”
“Trust me, with that hot number you’ve got on, no one is going to notice. Besides, I’ll distract them with questions.”