“Someone has to,” Sally said innocently. “You never did know a good thing when you saw it.” She looked at Dennis and gave him an approving nod.
“Sally has never approved of anyone before,” Nicole told him as they left. “This may be a first.”
In more ways than one, Dennis thought as he opened the car door for her. In more ways than one.
The teller behind the safety deposit box counter at California Savings and Loan was polite, but distant. And quite firm. He handed the signature card Nicole had filled out back to her after checking it against his records.
“I’m afraid that Mr. Logan didn’t authorize anyone else to have access to box number 117, Mrs. Logan. You’ll have to return with him.”
“But I can’t, he’s—”
Dennis cut in before Nicole could tell the man that Craig was dead. That would bring up another set of ramifications he didn’t have time to deal with.
“Can I have a word with you?” he asked the man. “Alone?”
By his expression, the teller obviously didn’t think there was anything further to talk about. But he acquiesced.
Nicole didn’t understand. Why did Dennis want to talk to the teller alone?
“I’ll be right back,” Dennis promised. He gave her hand a squeeze.
She supposed this was one of those situations where she was just going to have to trust him, she thought. Trusting didn’t come easily to her, but it was something she was very willing to learn if it meant having him in her life.
The teller walked out from behind the long desk and indicated an alcove used for consultations with the bank’s customers.
His back to Nicole, Dennis took out his wallet and flipped it open to his identification. He kept his voice low.
“I’m with the Justice Department. We have reason to believe that there might be important evidence contained in that safety deposit box. Now I can go and get a court order to make you turn over that box to Mrs. Logan,” he said mildly, “but I think you should know that there are certain other parties after that item as well and they might not go through the trouble of getting a court order to get what they want. Or even ask.” He paused significantly. The alarmed look in the man’s eyes told Dennis he understood exactly what he was saying. “It would be safer for everyone all around if you just let Mrs. Logan look into the box. She can verify who she is.”
The teller was visibly shaken and concerned. “Who’s going to verify you?”
“Commendably cautious.” Dennis smiled easily. He gave the teller a telephone number. “Ask for Albert Sherwood. He can give you my description.” The teller wrote the number down. Dennis rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Of course, that would be using up valuable time.”
The teller frowned. He looked down at the photo ID in Dennis’s wallet. He blew out a breath. “Okay, follow me.”
He returned to the desk. “Come this way, please.” The teller pressed a button underneath the counter, allowing them to enter the vault.
Nicole inserted the key Dennis found into the first lock and the teller put the bank’s key into the second one. He turned them simultaneously, then drew out the box and handed it to Nicole.
“You can use that room over there.”
He indicated a little room reserved to give the bank’s clients privacy. Dennis opened the door for her, then closed it behind them.
“What did you say to him?” Nicole asked.
He shrugged casually. “I introduced him to a few presidents he found to his liking.”
She stared at him. “You bribed him?”
It was close to the end, and he was still lying to her. Dennis was beginning to hate his job. “I thought it was worth the trouble. Open the box, Nicole.”
She looked down at the long, black metal box. Why did she feel afraid?
“Here goes nothing,” Nicole murmured. She flipped the box open.
There was nothing inside except for a small, white box. When she opened that, she found a black computer disk nestled inside.
Bingo.
Nicole took out the disk. There was no label on it, no indication what program ran it. “Do you think this is what they were looking for?”
As sure as God made little green apples. “Did Craig own a computer?”
Nicole laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “He couldn’t even work a typewriter.”
“Then this is what they’re looking for.” Dennis took the disk from her, placed it back into the small white box and closed the lid. “Here, put this in your purse and let’s go.”
There was an unfamiliar note in his voice. Uneasy, she did as he instructed.
Dennis brought the safety deposit box out and handed it to the teller. “Thanks for your help.”
“Always our pleasure,” the man responded automatically. His expression didn’t bear out his words.
Nicole didn’t say anything until she had descended the three steps outside of the bank’s entrance. She felt very confused. She hadn’t really given Craig’s connection with Standish any thought. Finding the disk changed all that.
“What was he doing with it?” she asked suddenly as they reached his car. “What was Craig doing with that disk? What’s on it?”
“Things you have no business knowing,” a sinister voice responded behind them.
Before Dennis could turn around, something hard was shoved up against his rib cage. He didn’t have to guess what it was. The look of horror on Nicole’s face told him.
“Nice and easy now. Let’s take a walk around here, shall we?” Holding on to Nicole’s arm and with the nose of his gun in Dennis’s ribs, a man neither of them recognized directed them toward the deserted area behind the bank.
“What do you know, it paid off.” The man laughed to himself. “I never had much patience with waiting. Maybe I should try it more often.” His tone changed abruptly. It was deadly. “I’ll take the disk, Mrs. Logan. It doesn’t belong to you.”
She looked at Dennis out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mrs. Logan. I don’t like games.” His expression turned menacing. “The only ones I like are the games played at Mr. Standish’s casino. He’s been waiting a long time to find that disk.” The man shoved his gun harder against Dennis. “Now hand it over and maybe no one’s going to get hurt.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. He was going to take the disk and then shoot them without a qualm. She thought of her children and of the man she had fallen in love with. Life had just begun for her. She wasn’t about to have it end.
Nicole began to reach into her purse. Dennis saw the stubborn look enter her eyes and knew that she was going to try something. He had to divert the attention to himself before she was hurt.
Moving abruptly, Dennis drove his elbow into the other man’s throat. The gun went off. As the noise registered, Dennis felt something hot slamming into his shoulder, setting it on fire. The point-blank impact almost knocked him down.
“Get out of here, Nicole,” he yelled. “Now!”
She saw the blood beginning to discolor his sleeve. She couldn’t just leave Dennis here like this. It was her Standish wanted, her and the disk. Not him.
Nicole didn’t remember thinking, only reacting. She swung her shoulder bag against the gunman’s legs. The man buckled to the pavement.
“Bitch!” he roared as he went down.
It was all the time Dennis needed. He pulled out his own gun and trained it on the other man. It was over in a matter of seconds. All the waiting, all the planning, all the deceit, it all ended here.
Dennis held the gun on the man. Staring down the bore, he still managed a wolfish grin. “Hey, no harm done. She’s got something that belongs to Mr. Standish, that’s all. A man has the right to claim what’s his.” He began to rise, but a simple movement from Dennis’s gun and he remained where he was.
“Not always,” Dennis said. “Yo
u’re under arrest.”
“You’re making a citizen’s arrest?” Nicole asked, stunned. What was he doing with a gun? None of this was making any sense to her.
“No, it’s a little more complicated than that.” He looked at the man on the ground. “What’s your name?”
“Martin. Pete Martin,” the man barked.
“All right, Pete Martin, I’m placing you under arrest.”
“Under whose authority, Boy Scout?” the man sneered. He eyed the small handgun, waiting for an opportunity to disarm Dennis.
His arm really stung. Dennis held the gun with both hands to keep it steady. “The Justice Department’s.”
The man looked at him warily. The situation was beginning to become clear. “On what charge?”
“Carrying a concealed weapon, attempted robbery and racketeering to start with. I figure the disk will tell us anything else we need to know.”
Dennis saw the look on Nicole’s face. The moment of triumph was lost
Nicole could only stare at Dennis, her mouth hanging open. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach.
Chapter 14
The sound of sirens still filled her ears. The red lights atop the ambulance danced in synchronized rhythm as people wove in and out of the scene before her eyes.
This was all so surreal.
It felt as if it were happening to someone else, not her. As if she were watching a huge movie screen and had somehow gotten sucked into the story without realizing how or when.
Nicole stared at Dennis. Her throat felt dry. Who was he? Who was this man she had so foolishly taken to her heart and her bed? She had no idea, only that he wasn’t who he had told her he was. He was worse than a stranger. He was someone who had lied to her.
People were milling all around him. Someone was taking instructions from him. The paramedics his partner Winston had called were just finishing bandaging up Dennis’s arm. At least, she thought the man’s name was Dennis.
Nicole no longer felt that she knew anything at all anymore.
Winston looked the other way while the paramedic had quickly wrapped Dennis’s wound and waited until the attendant was finished before talking. Behind them, Dombrowski was cuffing Martin and reading him his rights amid a barrage of profanity.
“Lucky for you, I check my messages,” he said, watching the small dot of red grow larger on Dennis’s bandage. “Otherwise, things might have gone down differently.”
Winston had arrived within moments after Dennis had placed Martin under arrest. The paramedics arrived on the scene a few minutes after that. In the ensuing melee, Dennis hadn’t had a chance to say a single word to Nicole. But he could feel her eyes on him, tearing away the last tissue covering his guilt.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
This had turned out all right, but something else might not. Something suddenly far more important to him than making a big arrest.
He turned to look in Nicole’s direction. She was staring at him as if he were a stranger. Not that he could blame her, he supposed. Dennis crossed to her, sidestepping Dombrowski who was ushering Martin inside the car he and Winston had come in.
She hated him, he thought, looking into her yes. “Give him the disk, Nicole.”
Her mouth hardened. The bastard. He’d played her for a fool all along. And she had let him.
“Sure.” Her voice was cold, but not for long. Her anger and hurt heated up the words. “That was what you were after all along, wasn’t it? The disk.” Digging the white box out of her purse, she shoved it into his hands.
Dennis passed the box over to Winston. The latter opened it to check out the contents.
“I—” Dennis didn’t know what to say, where to start. The look in her eyes cut him dead.
She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear a single word from him. She’d already heard enough. “You must feel pretty good about yourself. Like a Canadian Mountie, you got your man. Or your disk.” The words were bitter. “Never mind that you had to use someone in order to do it.”
Each word she uttered felt sharp, drawing blood as it scraped along his conscience.
God, how was he ever going to make this right? All he knew was that he had to try. “Nicole—”
Winston shifted. “Why don’t I leave you two to work this out alone?” He began edging away. He eyed Nicole nervously. “Sherwood’s going to want to see you, Dennis.”
Dennis didn’t even turn around. The words washed right over him. “Right. Later.”
“No, go.” With the flat of her hand, Nicole pushed Dennis’s chest, making him stumble backward toward Winston. “Go! You and I don’t have anything to say to each other anymore.”
The paramedic looked embarrassed as he tapped Dennis on the arm. “Look, buddy, I think we should take you to the emergency room to have that checked out.” He nodded at the bandage he had just put on.
Dennis waved him away. The shoulder ached, but he would get over that. This was far more important. “I’ve got my own doctor.”
Nicole looked at the paramedic. “I’d ask him to verify that if I were you. He tends to make up things.”
Dennis scowled at the attendant, ending any further discussion. The man held up his hand and pushed a clipboard in front of Dennis.
“Okay, just sign here that you didn’t want to go in and refused any further medical attention.” He tapped the space.
Dennis quickly scribbled his name down on the end of the paper. Nicole was walking away. He threw the pen down on the board and hurried after her.
“Nicole.” She didn’t stop until he caught her wrist. “Nicole, let me take you home.”
She wasn’t about to get into the car with him. She wasn’t about to get into anything with him ever again. All she wanted was to get away from Dennis as fast as she could. “I’ll call my sister.”
“She’s not home,” he reminded her. Her stubbornness was getting on his nerves. He had to make her listen to him.
“I’ll call somebody else. A taxi.” She wrenched her hand away. “Just get away from me.”
Dennis saw Winston shaking his head as he got into the driver’s side of the car. The ambulance had already left. People who had poured out of the bank to see the excitement were drifting back inside. Within moments, they were alone.
He felt more alone than he had ever been in his life.
“Nicole, let me explain—” He tried to take her hand again, but she wouldn’t let him.
“What’s there to explain?” she demanded, her eyes blazing. How could he? How could he? She was ready to love him forever and he had been lying to her all along. “You had a job to do, and you did it.” Her eyes narrowed as the hurt mounted within them. “I made it easy for you, didn’t I?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You made it damn hard. I didn’t want to lie to you.” Each lie he told had burned on his tongue.
She was through believing him. “Well, you seemed to do a hell of a bang-up job of it.”
Nicole felt tears gathering in her eyes, but she was not going to let them go. She’d be damned if she’d let him think she was crying over him. She swallowed, trying to get past the lump that was growing in her throat.
“You must be at the top of your class. Mr. Neighborly. ‘Let me fix your disposal, Nicole,”’ she said, mimicking him. “‘Let me get your mail, Nicole. Buy your furniture, Nicole.”’ Her eyes were slits of betrayed fury. “‘Get you to bed, Nicole.”’
He couldn’t stand this anymore. She was ripping them both apart. “Nicole—”
She held up her hand. “No, no, you’re right. That was me. I did that.” She bit down hard on her lip to keep her voice from quavering. She was not going to cry. “Opened up my stupid heart and my stupid bed to you.” Boy, they made up songs about fools like her. “And you fell right in, didn’t you? No trouble at all.”
She turned on her heel, starting to walk away again. This time, he grabbed her roughly and swung her around. The action hurt his shoulder, but only reg
istered distantly. Her words hurt a great deal more.
“Let me get a word in, damn it.”
She threw back her head, her eyes flat. “Why, so you can lie again? Sorry, my card’s filled up. I can’t take any more lies.” She broke free. “Now you can go to your almighty Justice Department and have a good laugh over this.” She whispered the last words, afraid that her voice would break.
Is that what she really thought? He would have given her more credit than that. “I’m not laughing.”
For a moment, she almost believed him. But that would have made her twice the fool that she already was. And she was through playing the fool.
“Too bad. I will be,” she told him. “Every time I think of what an idiot I was to fall for you. That I actually thought that you were different than all the others.” She laughed harshly. “Want a real laugh? I thought that you were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
She grew solemn. She felt so empty, as if there were nothing left to hang on to. But there was. She still had her children. She had to remember that.
“Maybe you were,” she said half to herself. “Because you finally taught me not to believe in dreams.”
He couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked as if her soul had been stolen from her. “Nicole, this wasn’t supposed to happen this way. None of it.”
As if she could believe him. “But it did,” she returned. She was tired. Too tired to go on talking. Too tired to go on having her heart torn out of her. “Everyone in my life has walked out on me in one way or another.” Her voice was dead, devoid of any feeling. Just as she was. “I suggest you follow that pattern.”
“Nicole—”
But she turned away from him. Head held high, she walked to the front of the bank to make her telephone call. She needed a taxi to take her to Marlene’s house. And away from here.
“You don’t have to lean on the bell,” Sally complained as she opened the door. She looked outside and down the driveway. “So, where is he?”
“I shot him,” Nicole snapped. At least, she wanted to. She wanted to pound on him until her fists and his body were numb. The way her soul felt right now. Numb, like the survivor of a bombing. She looked around the room. “Where are the twins, Sally? I have to go.”
Happy New Year--Baby! Page 20