Acceptable Risks (23 page)

She stood. “I’m going to get some sleep, then. The guest room—well, you saw where it is. Help yourself to anything you need.” She left the room before Jason could protest—or fail to.

* * *

Once Lark was gone, Jason slumped against the sofa cushion and covered his face with his hands. What was happening here? Whatever it was, it moved him along faster than a freefall from an airplane. He was skilled at reacting to anything that came at him, but those were physical things, concrete realities, not relationships.

His survival was common knowledge by now, at least among a certain crowd. The wrong crowd. Evidence that they’d used experimental technology without sanction could cause Hummingbird many more problems than they already had. He couldn’t allow Lark to be dragged into it. She’d sold the compound and hadn’t been involved in its development. That meant they could distance her. Unless she was romantically involved with him. Then no one would believe she’d had nothing to do with it.

Jason pressed his fingertips to the pulse pounding in his right temple. Lark wouldn’t care what people thought. She’d stick by him no matter what, the same way she stuck by her father. But reputation and legal prosecution were minor compared to the real threat. His already dangerous career had taken a sharp turn. He didn’t know if he’d ever stop being a target. He couldn’t make Lark one, too. But he suspected any obstacle he threw up would just challenge her. She’d said she wasn’t looking for a relationship, but last night contradicted that. And the way she’d looked at him a few minutes ago…

The muscle in his right calf twitched, then tightened. He grimaced and eased to his feet. He’d taken a short run this morning, but hadn’t wanted to leave the barn for very long. Combine that with the cramped flight to Boston and driving all over town to talk to Isaac’s contacts, and he was heading for a repeat of the weight room yesterday. Lark would do the massage, and the aftermath would be a combination of the weight room and the bed in the barn.

He closed his eyes against the memory, the need that surged through him. He couldn’t do that anymore. He’d have to work out the cramps by himself. Luckily, Lark’s living room was large enough for long-stride pacing. But long-stride pacing encouraged continued thinking. And he was tired of thinking.

He walked for twenty minutes, counting off the seconds to the rhythm of his stride to clear his mind. The twinges in his calves disappeared, and as he slowed his pace the muscles relaxed. Fatigue crept in. Maybe he should go to bed. But apparently, bed meant Lark now. His brain woke up again—along with other parts of his body.

“You cannot go in there,” he told himself, standing in front of the guest room, staring over at Lark’s bedroom door. It was closed. She would let him in if he knocked right now. But that would send a message he didn’t want to send. Or thought he didn’t.

Dammit.

He went into the guest room and got ready for bed, forcing his mind to formulate a plan to find Matt and Gabby tomorrow. Once they’d done that, Matt could take over Lark’s protection, and Jason would go after Isaac—and Kolanko, if need be—and he wouldn’t need to see Lark again. Ever.

That thought was enough to send him across the hall.

* * *

By the time Matthew finished securing John, making absolutely certain Isaac wouldn’t know his man had let his prisoners go, the sun had sunk below the trees. They couldn’t walk the driveway to the road, just in case Isaac changed his mind and came back sooner than John predicted. He couldn’t risk him finding them trudging through the woods.

They walked until they found a shed. In the deep twilight, there was no sign of a larger structure it could belong to. Even though it was too close to Isaac’s cabin, too obvious a hiding place, and not big enough for both of them to lie down, it was their best bet to get through the night. The darkness and overgrowth on the forest floor would hinder Isaac just as much as it hindered them, and maybe they’d get lucky and he wouldn’t come back until morning.

He and Gabby cleared rusted, nearly empty paint cans and broken gardening tools from the cement floor, spread a smelly canvas tarp across it, and curled up together in the center, spooned, Gabby’s head on Matthew’s left arm, his head resting on the bunched end of the tarp. They slept fitfully, Matthew half alert for the sound of Isaac searching for them, half listening to Gabby’s raspy breathing. Whenever he did drop into real sleep for a few minutes, her restless shifting yanked him back out.

When the sun squeezed through a crack in the wall and hit Matthew in the eyes, they’d only slept a few hours overall. It hadn’t been enough, but it would have to suffice. They couldn’t stay here.

“Gabby?” he whispered, rubbing her upper arm. Her skin was hot and dry, but she roused quickly and stifled the groan that came out of her throat when she tried to move.

“Are we okay?” she whispered back.

Matthew eased them to a sitting position. Every muscle in his body let him know how annoyed it was, but he had a clearer head and more strength than he’d had last night.

“We’re alone,” he told her. He couldn’t sense any presence outside, and the morning cacophony was in full force. Unless someone had found them an hour ago and stood frozen outside so the birds and animals ignored him, they were alone.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She didn’t show an ounce of embarrassment, and Matthew smiled.

“We’ll find you a good tree.” He winced as he tried to climb to his feet. The shelf bolted to the wall held as he pulled himself up, then braced and tugged Gabby upright. He made her wait while he checked outside, then emerged first. Since they hadn’t been found, Isaac must not have made the drive back last night. Good for them, not so good for John. Matthew had tried not to leave him too uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to be able to get himself free. He should be okay until Isaac found him.

Once Matthew let her come outside, Gabby disappeared behind a thick growth of grapevine and nightshade choking out a wall of autumn olive bushes. Matt moved to the other side of the shed to give her privacy, and studied the patch of flowers he was watering. He hadn’t picked up as much from Lark as she’d tried to teach him, but he recognized domesticated plants when he saw them. This had been someone’s home at one time. Not the shed, but… He looked around, his eyes picking up the rectangular outline of a building that was no longer there.

Gabby’s footsteps crunched dead leaves behind him. He zipped up quickly and motioned with his chin to charred debris about a hundred feet in front of them.

“That’s the house we couldn’t find last night,” he said in a low voice.

“Where?” Gabby squinted, then her eyes widened. “It burned down?”

“A long time ago.” The house had burned nearly to the ground, and what walls were left had been overtaken by vegetation. “Let’s go.” He pointed across the debris. “The road is that way. Let’s see if there’s a driveway leading out to it. It’ll be as overgrown as the house, but probably easier going than through the woods.”

They found the driveway easily enough. The owners had actually paved a clearing in front of the house and a few hundred feet out. The hard-packed dirt beyond that had narrowed, but there was still room for them to walk side by side. Matthew instructed Gabby what to do if they heard an engine or voices, but for the ten minutes it took them to get to the road, there was nothing. The main road, too, was empty.

“Which way?” Gabby squinted east into the sun, then west, to their right. “That way?” she asked hopefully.

But Matthew shook his head. “Sorry.”

“How do you know?”

He motioned to the left and they started walking. “Haze this way.”

Gabby sighed but didn’t protest. “Smog.”

“Yep.”

“Fine.” She set out, back straight, stride easy, despite her rough breathing and the sheen of sweat on her forehead. “If we’re lucky, there will be a little country store at a crossroads five minutes away.”

They weren’t that lucky.

Chapter Twenty

“I’ve never had so many on-time flights in my life,” Lark observed as she and Jason exited the jetway back in DC late the next morning. Caitlyn had been in the office early and found the record of Ella’s number in seconds. Lark’s aunt had called Matthew’s office number with her cell phone, which meant her name was on the log and they didn’t need to research a bunch of unlabeled numbers. Jason used a program on his laptop to locate the phone, which was in Virginia, not far from her father’s house. They just needed to pick up Jason’s truck from short-term parking and get down there.

“I can’t believe how smoothly everything is going,” Lark said.

Jason held a door for her. “Scary, isn’t it?”

“Terrifying.”

In truth, not
everything
had gone smoothly. Jason had come into her room last night and, without speaking a word, made love to her even more incredibly than he had the night before. He’d made her lie still without touching him, so he could keep in control and concentrate on her. And concentrate he had. It had been a three-orgasm night for her, a first. He’d taken her to a long, slow peak with his mouth, then a sharper, faster one wrapped tightly in his arms, surrounded by him, filled with him. Then she’d rolled over and come with him buried deeper than she’d ever taken any man, his hands gripping her hips tightly enough to bruise, his teeth lightly clamped on the side of her neck as she held on to the iron headboard with cramped fingers and pressed back against him, wanting him harder and faster. Wanting the impossible.

Wanting him to love her.

He’d stayed in her bed all night, but when she woke he was gone, already showered and packed, with coffee made and stale bagels toasting in her oven. He hadn’t said anything about it since, and Lark was determined not to bring it up.

But oh, was she storing ammunition for later.

“What about the property records?” she asked when they’d gotten into his Range Rover. “Why aren’t we checking those?”

“When have we had time?” Jason shook his head. “Hummingbird has people who do that kind of research, but we can’t trust anyone. And if Isaac owns other property where he’d take your father and Gabby, you know it’s not going to be simple to find in the records. He’ll have it in a different name, or under a corporation. Not impossible to track, but time-consuming.”

Lark opened the laptop once they were outside the airport boundaries and waited for the software to refresh. “The phone hasn’t moved.”

“Key the coordinates into the GPS, would you?” He headed south and switched on the radar detector he had under the dash.

Lark carefully programmed the navigation system and sat back, watching the screen as it located them, oriented, and started scrolling directions. “Take 495 East when we get to it.”

Lark started to think about seeing her aunt again. At the airport, while they’d waited for their flight to board, she’d searched for her online and found her current real estate office in Florida, several articles at travel and relocation sites, and notice of a local award she shared with her partner. Seamus Kemmerling. She probably should have been shocked, but at this point nothing fazed her. In fact, the more connections they found, the better she felt about the whole situation. Not less afraid for her father, but like everything made sense. When things made sense, logical conclusions weren’t far behind. It appealed to her scientific bent.

She looked at her watch, anxiety twisting her insides. “It’s getting late. She could leave at any moment.”

“I’m already doing eighty, Lark.” His radar detector beeped and he backed off the accelerator.

“Not anymore.”

“Cop.” He eyed the patrol car half hidden by trees on the side of the highway. “Being pulled over—”

“Would slow us down, I know. I just have this feeling of dread.” She pressed her fist to her stomach, then felt idiotic when Jason put his hand on her knee and the dread eased.

She was not the kind of woman who needed soothing.

It took way too long to get to the coordinates identified by the computer, but it was still not quite nine o’clock when they slowed between a chain hotel on one side and a strip mall on the other.

“Hotel?” Lark eyed the businesses in the strip mall. The parking lot was almost empty, just a bright green Volkswagen Beetle decorated like a ladybug parked in front of the cleaning service whose name was emblazoned on its side. The take-out chicken restaurant, chiropractor’s office, and cross-stitch supply store were all dark. Jason pulled into the hotel lot and parked. Lark leaned forward to study the wide ten-story building. The GPS only gave a general location. “We’ll never find her.” Her fists tightened again, feeling her father’s chances slipping away.

“Of course we will,” Jason contradicted. He got out and strode across the parking lot. Lark followed him to a house phone, where he asked for Ella Darron’s room. Lark stood close to him, but couldn’t make out the voice on the other end of the line when the ringing stopped.

“Ma’am, this is hotel security,” Jason said. “We’ve had word that there’s a breach in the perimeter system in your room. Is your window open?” He waited. “Has anything impacted the window from the inside or outside?”

He listened, his mouth quirking a little as her voice rose and became strident enough for Lark to hear, though she still couldn’t make out the words.

“We’d better come up and check, ma’am. The safety of our guests is paramount. You’re in room three twenty, correct?” The quirk turned into a wide, smug grin as she yelled at him, and he apologized and hung up. “She’s in nine-oh-two. Let’s go before she decides that was ridiculously transparent and runs.”

Lark headed for the elevator, stopping short when Jason went the other way, toward the stairwell. He hadn’t told her he had any problems with stairwells, but he’d been full of tension when they left Nils’ apartment, and after nearly dying in one, he
had
to have residual anxiety. “Jason…”

“It’s faster.” He yanked open the door and his jaw practically vibrated, he clenched it so tightly, but he didn’t hesitate. Her heart pounding, braced for anything, Lark stayed close behind him as he took the steps two at a time. They burst through the fire door on the ninth floor, panting. Lark wasn’t in good enough shape for this, but Jason was. His eyes cleared and his breathing slowed almost immediately.

He checked the number on the first room door. “Other end.” He jerked his thumb down the hall and they jogged to room nine-oh-two, reaching it just as the door opened and a woman emerged, pulling a bulging suitcase that was only half zipped. She looked up, wild-eyed, then furious when they pushed her back into the room.

Lark ignored her protests and slammed the bar lock closed on the door. “Hello, Ella.” She leveled a cold look at the older woman, watching her furious expression become gaping. She didn’t look all that different from Lark’s memories. She was just as tanned, carried herself with the same sense of personal focus. Her color-treated dark gold hair hadn’t been brushed, and her makeup looked like yesterday’s, but her suit was custom tailored, her shoes and the bulging suitcase both designer.

Her aunt collected herself quickly, barking, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Lark Madrassa?” as if Lark were a pre-teen.

“A better question would be what are
you
doing?” Lark advanced on her aunt, who looked defiant but dropped her suitcase handle and backed toward the bed. “Or maybe why you’re here. How you know Isaac Kemmerling?” Her voice rose with the fury and fear that had flash-boiled as soon as she spotted Ella trying to escape. “Maybe you have a story about how you were coerced. Or
maybe
—” she loomed over her aunt, fists at her sides, and roared, “—maybe you can tell me
where the fuck my father is!
”

Ella fell backward onto the bed, catching herself in a half-recline, and Lark stayed in her face, aware that she was acting insane. She backed off. But she’d confused Ella with Nils, because as soon as she had enough space Ella stood, jerked her suit jacket into place, and raised her chin, dignity fully intact. She was going to be a harder nut to crack than the gopher had been.

“I happen to be in town on business that has nothing to do with you. I have no idea where your father is. I haven’t spoken to him since your mother’s funeral.”

“That’s a lie.” Jason’s calm response was a huge contrast to Lark’s wild attack, and seemed to disturb Ella more. Her mouth dropped open slightly and her shoulders sagged. She tried to recover, but Lark could see in her eyes that she knew it was too late, that her reaction had limited her options. Lark tried to tap into Jason’s calm and hoped that after this, she’d never have to play interrogator again. She really sucked at it.

“We know you called him the other day. And that you went to the house,” she added quickly, thinking the call wouldn’t be enough to pressure her. “My father runs the best security company in the world. We have you on tape.” Of course they didn’t. Matthew didn’t have cameras on his grounds and definitely not in his house. He’d seen enough invasion of his clients’ privacy and didn’t want to give anyone the chance to invade his.

“I doubt that,” Ella scoffed. “Even if I had gone to his house, he would have changed a great deal to have started filming his life. You forget, child,” she added at Lark’s disgruntled expression, “I knew your father as an adult long before you did. And your mother confided everything to me.”

Anger flared again, this time with hurt. “And you betray her by being party to my father’s abduction? Betray me?”

Not a flicker of affection was apparent in Ella’s face. “There must be trust for there to be betrayal. I haven’t been a part of your life enough to have inspired trust. And your mother never trusted me. Not fully.”

“That’s why she didn’t give you the money you wanted.” Lark floundered, no longer certain where to go, but kept talking as Jason moved in her peripheral vision. Since he wasn’t chiming in on this conversation, he must have another plan. Lark tried to keep Ella’s attention with information she wouldn’t know Lark had. “Right? Your grandfather’s money? Because of trust.”

“You know nothing about that.” But Ella sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs, draping one arm over her knee in a classically defensive posture.

“I heard you talking about it. She planned to use it for my education. If you had kids, she’d have given you half, right? But you don’t, so she didn’t. And Dad never touched the money. You can’t stand that it’s just sitting there unused.” She didn’t know where all this was coming from. She was just snapping things together, hoping one of the pieces would spark a confession or at least start a conversation. She didn’t have her pitchfork and doubted Jason was planning to pull a gun to coerce Ella into talking. “So where does Isaac Kemmerling come into this?”

Ella’s gaze stayed fixed on Lark’s. Not a good sign.

“Why on earth do you think I’d tell you anything about anything?” she asked, her tone cold.

“Because,” Lark said desperately, “you loved my mother. Didn’t you? And she loved my father, and me, and he’s all I have left.” She sensed rather than saw Jason jolt when she said that.

She refocused on Ella, who pressed her lips together and looked away. Lark had touched on something, but it hadn’t been enough.

“Come
on
, Ella,” she ground out. “Tell me what’s going on!”

Jason came up beside Lark then. “Ms. Darron, you drugged your brother-in-law, coerced him to make a recording of lies, and were party to kidnapping, which is a federal offense and could get you jailed for years. You tell us what you know, and we’ll make sure you’re not implicated when the case goes to trial.”

Maybe it was his reasonable tone. Maybe it was the reminder of the severity of her actions. Or maybe she realized Jason had just searched her things right under her nose and found evidence she couldn’t explain away. Whatever it was, Ella caved.

And Lark and Jason caught their first break.

* * *

Just a few more steps. Just to that block of shade. Okay, made it. Stop for a second. That’s all, keep moving. Get to that big rock
.