All the Way (20 page)

The officer's scrutinizing gaze softened just a bit. This man had lost someone in his past. Adriano played on it.

“I need to find her. Tell her I'm sorry.”

“She got family here?” The man was still wary.

“No, we were passing through. Stayed the night at the motel. Had a huge fight. I really need to find her.”

The officer watched him, his eyes roaming up and down, probably searching for the bulge of a weapon. Adriano could see him deciding: should he search the out-of-place stranger, run his license for outstanding warrants, or let him go? The man's good nature won out. “Did you check the bus station? A lot of people running away head there.”

“Bus station?” Adriano had been in such a state, he hadn't thought to check the most logical place.

The officer gave him directions, a warning to stop running into folks on the sidewalk, and released him. As soon as the officer disappeared inside the general store, Adriano took off for the bus station.

The depot was nothing more than an average-sized room with benches, a vending machine, and two ticket windows. The buses pulled up behind the building for loading and unloading.

Adriano pulled out his wallet and removed his
Chicago City
media identification, fully aware it resembled the credentials policemen carried in their wallets. The Chicago police had been strong-arming the paper to change the ID, but Mr. Conners refused.

He strutted up to the window and pressed the badge against the wire cage. “I need to know if someone bought a ticket,” he said with unquestionable authority.

“Are you the police?” the ticket agent asked, his thick southern twang mangling the words.

“You saw my ID,” Adriano answered, purposefully being vague. He couldn't afford the big officer from the street arresting him for impersonating an officer.

“You must be state, 'cause you ain't from around here. Ain't no black police here. Where's your badge?”

“I'm investigating a case. I don't have a shield. I'm looking for a beautiful woman, about this tall,” he held his hand up as a measuring stick. “She has big brown eyes. Her hair comes to her shoulders. She would have been wearing jeans and T-shirt. She looks like she's very tough, but her eyes give her away . . . show you how vulnerable she truly is.”

The ticket agent angled his head in question.

Adriano cleared his throat. “Have you seen a woman fitting this description? Did she buy a ticket from you?”

“Got a picture?”

Thousands of them. In his camera bag. Still undeveloped. “Not at this time.”

“Well then, nope.”

“Take a second to think.”

“Don't have to. Only sold two tickets this morning, and they weren't to this gal you talkin' about.” He pointed across the room. “To the woman and her baby.”

Out of options, Adriano cursed. Then he remembered, “She might have bought the ticket last night.”

“Cletus ran the ticket counter last night.”

“Where's the bus schedule from last night?”

The man shuffled through some papers and produced a schedule. Adriano turned away, examining the listing. In such a small town, there wasn't the bus traffic like in Chicago. Only three buses had gone out yesterday—all before they'd arrived in Pageland.

“There's a bus going to Columbia this morning,” Adriano said. “Do you have any passengers scheduled to get on?”

Thank God the bus station's transactions were computerized. The man punched the keyboard, and the data flashed on the screen. “Looks like five people bought tickets. The bus is scheduled to leave in”—he glanced at the clock above his head—“twenty-five minutes.”

Adriano turned, checking out each person in the station. The woman with her baby, an old man, and a teenage couple. Payton was nowhere in sight. He went over to the teenage couple and described Payton; they hadn't seen her. He persuaded the girl to check the restroom for him.

“Nobody in there, mister,” she announced when she returned.

Adriano felt like he was riding an out-of-control roller-coaster. He'd admitted to himself he'd fallen in love with a woman for the first time in his life, only to discover her gone—probably forever. He couldn't even begin to know how to come to terms with Payton's absence. He dropped down on the bench next to the teenage couple, fighting to regain his rational mind.

“Hey, mister,” the young man said, “if you're looking for your girl, ask Romeo.” The boy was watching him, offering compassion over his plight through the inflection of his words.

“Good idea,” the girl said.

“Who's Romeo?”

The girl nodded, indicating he should look out on the platform where the buses loaded. The boy answered. “Romeo is a pimp from Columbia. He comes down every couple of days to recruit girls. He knows everything about every woman in town.”

“Payton wouldn't get involved with a pimp,” Adriano admonished.

The boy threw his hands up. “Just trying to help. I didn't say she was one of his girls.”

“Sorry,” Adriano apologized. Actually, the boy had a good idea. He thanked the young couple and went to seek out Romeo.

“You police?” Romeo asked when Adriano approached. The two girls standing with him scattered. “Those were my cousins. I'm looking out for them until they get on the bus. Besides, I already paid my taxes this month—and donated to the police benevolent fund with four girls, which is two over what our agreement calls for.”

“Relax, I'm not the police.”

“I saw you flash your badge at the ticket counter.” Romeo was dressed in casual dark blue silk slacks and shirt. On his feet were three-thousand-dollar blue gators. He was young, but his work had been hard on him, leaving him with a variety of scars across his upper chest. Both his biceps were tattooed with what Adriano knew to be prison art. While they talked, he lit a thin cigar and placed it between a perfect, gleaming white set of teeth. He had the pimpin' attitude down to a T—calm and in control, smooth, and sharply observant of his surroundings. Their entire conversation, his eyes were roaming over Adriano's shoulder, watching, on the lookout for his next victim.

“I'm not a policeman,” Adriano repeated, pulling out the badge he'd shown the ticket agent. “I'm investigating a story, and my source slipped out on me. I hear you're the one to ask where she might be.”

Romeo chewed his cigar while he studied the badge. “What's it worth to you?”

Knowing he was tapped out of money, he found something else to offer. “Look, man, I don't have the clout a lot of reporters have. My budget for this story is gone. Spent it on the source that ran away. I got to get this story done, or it's my ass.”

Romeo watched him, seriously scrutinizing his story. “You're a horrible liar, Mr. Reporter. Again, what's it worth to you?”

Not having much time to play with, Adriano dropped all pretense. “I'm a reporter for the
Chicago City
newspaper. You're too slick to be from around here—and I'm including Columbia. You get in trouble in Chicago, you give me a call.” He handed the man his card. “I'll owe you one.”

Romeo read over the card, glancing up at Adriano. Adriano held his gaze. One sign of weakness and Romeo would try to take everything he could and leave without giving any information in return.

After a long moment, Adriano said, “I don't have much time.”

Romeo tucked the card inside his shirt pocket. “What's this source look like?”

Adriano described Payton, not liking the way Romeo's interest piqued. “Have you seen her?”

“Might know the woman you're talking about. She didn't look like she fit into this small hick town, so I offered her my services. Thought she could use a nice meal and a hot bed for the night.”

Adriano's fists clenched. If Romeo had touched Payton, he would be dead within the hour.

“Chill. She didn't take me up on my offer.”

“Where did she go?”

“Last I saw her, she was waiting for the bus to come through.” He angled his body. “The police stepped through, and she got squirrelly. Ducked behind the Dumpster. I haven't seen her come out.”

Chapter 22

“Angel.” Adriano kneeled down next to Payton in her obscure hiding place shielded by the Dumpster.

She'd seen him talking to Romeo and knew the pimp would give her up, but she had nowhere else to run. She would have to face Adriano and make him believe their association was over.

He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Why did you leave?”

She wanted to tell him everything, melt in his arms and hope he could make everything all right. But she couldn't. She'd asked enough from him. He'd gotten his story. Their relationship was inconsequential since they both knew it would have to end eventually. The only thing of importance right now was saving Patrick. Sherman had given her a three-hour deadline, which had been impossible to keep without finding her way back to the main highway and hitchhiking back to Charlotte. After placing a pleading phone call to him, he'd allowed her an extension, but the clock was running again.

“Come here.” Adriano stood, helping her up. He walked her to the bench farthest from Romeo and his growing entourage. “Tell me why you left.”

“You've kept up your end of the deal. I can go into Columbia alone. You should get back to your life. Start writing your story.”

“You think I'm so shallow I'd just dump you off in Pageland and tell you to go the rest of the way by yourself?” He sounded offended. “We talked about this last night.”

“We did. Adriano, it's time to say good-bye. We let things get complicated between us. It's best if we end it cleanly.”

His anger flared. “And it's cleaner to walk out in the middle of the night, without even a note? I didn't know what happened to you.”

“Now you know I'm fine.” She swallowed hard, suppressing her true feelings. “Go back to Chicago, Adriano.”

“We're done?”

She nodded.

He pushed up from the bench and crossed the dirt parking lot. He paced for a few strides before returning to stand over her. “You left the shower running to throw me off.”

He was too astute for his own good. Payton didn't bother to try to explain.

“You didn't want me to know you were gone. Why?”

“I didn't want this scene.”

His neck snapped back as if she'd slapped him. “You wanted to walk away from me without the drama?”

No. She never wanted to leave him. Never.
“Yes.”

“This meant nothing to you.”

She exhaled, hating herself for lying but knowing there was no other way. It would be hard enough to get Adriano to leave. If he knew how she felt about him, he'd insist on getting involved in saving Patrick.

“Payton.” His voice cracked like a whip. “This meant nothing?”

“It was what it was, Adriano. Now it's over.”

“Bull. You're lying.”

She turned away.

“Everything you said, everything you did, is a lie? You don't feel anything for me?”

She couldn't look at him. The truth would be reflected in her eyes.

“You're going to let me walk away believing that?”

She pressed her lids together, trapping the tears. Couldn't he see the truth? “This is hard for me too.”

“It doesn't have to be—”

“Which is why we have to end this now. Before I try to concentrate on being a witness.”

“You want me to go?” His words were so softly spoken she almost didn't understand.

She faced him. “Yes,” she answered, and a piece of her heart ripped away.

Adriano watched her, and for the first time since she'd met him, his dancing eyes clouded in sadness. He stood rooted in front of her, waiting for her to take the words back, but she couldn't. Sherman had been clear: come alone if she wanted Patrick to live.

“You just tore my heart out,” Adriano said before he turned and walked away.

 

 

Adriano was at the motel packing up when the satellite phone rang.

“What's up?” Jake asked. “Mr. Conners said you broke your cover to get a message to me.”

Adriano tried to regain his composure, to sound matter-of-fact. “It's over. I'm coming home.”

“What do you mean ‘it's over'? How can it be over when we haven't cracked this investigation wide open? We still need to—”

“Jake,” Adriano broke in, “it's over. Payton's gone. She's on the way to Columbia—without me—where she'll tell the FBI what she knows, they'll arrest Grazicky, and life will go back to normal.” He slammed the suitcase closed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“A, I know you. What's up?”

Adriano started packing his camera and was suddenly overwhelmed. He had snapped hundreds of pictures of Payton. How would he handle it? Looking at images of her, but not being able to touch her? He dropped down on the bed next to the suitcase.

“A, you there?”

“I'm in love with her.”

“You're in love with Payton Vaughn?” Jake asked incredulously.

He answered with a simple “Yes.”

“What did you do? What happened between you two?”

“Everything and nothing. Too much and not enough.”

Jake pondered his answer.

“I don't know, Jake.” He moved to the window of the motel room. “One minute we were complete strangers, the next I'm closer to Payton than I've been to any woman in my life. All in a matter of”—he counted the days on his fingers—“nineteen days.”

“This is bad.”

“You don't know how bad. About the time the insanity took over, little voices inside my head were telling me we could actually make it work. One of us could move to be with the other.”

“Insanity is right. A, man, you have to break it off with her.”

He leaned his lofty body against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “You're right. I know you're right. It's just . . .”

“I mean, where do you think this can go? The DA and FBI will question her and hide her away until she testifies. When this is all over, she'll have to go back to her life. And you'll have to go back to yours. Being emotionally attached is going to make it hard for both of you.”

He dipped his head, studying the carpet pattern. “Don't have to worry about that happening. Obviously, this is one-sided, because Payton's at the bus station right now, waiting to go to Columbia alone. Here I am about to die, thinking the FBI would take Payton into custody and I'd never see her again, when she up and runs out in the middle of the night to get away from me.” He admonished himself for the self-pity. “Testifying and putting Grazicky away is more important than us having a relationship.”

“You don't sound convinced.”

“Yeah, well. How soon can you book me a flight?”

“A?” Jake said after a short pause. “I don't know Payton as well as you do, but I think you're missing something here.”

Jake was the analytical one, but Adriano knew he had let his emotions cloud his judgment and derail him from his job.

Jake went on. “The day I met Payton, she was scared. She tried to put on a good front, but she was afraid. She always kept you within sight and didn't let you move too far away. If she was this dependent on you after one day, I can't see her being less attracted after you get involved.”

Adriano propelled himself away from the wall with the heel of his shoe. He remembered their conversation last night before they'd made love. Separating in Columbia had bothered her. “Why would she tell me she wanted me to go?”

“Why would you
leave
her? After everything you've gone through, knowing Grazicky is on her trail, why would you leave her before she got to Columbia?”

“I wasn't thinking. She said what we were doing didn't mean anything.”

“And you were hurt, so you were ready to hop a plane back to Chicago without knowing if she made it to Columbia.”

Adriano cursed himself. Again, he'd let his emotions steer him in the wrong direction.

“Don't beat yourself up,” Jake said. “You'll learn how to play this game soon enough. You're a rookie at being in love. The question is, why would Payton freely go. To try to make it to Columbia by herself ?”

“She'd do it to protect me.”

“From what?”

“Grazicky and his men.”

“Unless Grazicky was in your motel room last night, it doesn't make sense.”

Jake's words made the light go on for Adriano. When he'd woken up, the satellite phone had been on the dresser, not on the bedside table, where he'd left it the night before. “I have to stop Payton,” Adriano announced, already running for the door.

“Go get her, A. You have to make this right. Everything.”

 

 

Payton moved inside and sat on one of the hard benches inside the bus station. She checked the clock again—she still had another hour before the bus to Charlotte was scheduled to arrive. She was scared, starved, and heartbroken. She'd never forget the crushed look on Adriano's face when she'd been forced to turn him away. Of everything she'd been through, it would leave the greatest scar on her conscience.

Romeo had moved inside also, throwing her hopeful glances when he thought she wasn't looking. He'd been charming with his offer to “run his business ventures,” but she knew better. She'd been involved with one “harmlessly” flirty boss, and it had wrecked her life.

She was watching Romeo work his magic on his “employees,” her mind drifting to Patrick and what could be happening to him right then when Adriano walked through the entrance. The camera bag hung around his neck, and he gripped the suitcase handle while wearing an expression of fierce determination. His rugged, handsome face was polished with brazen cockiness, but she knew the real man underneath. He was more sensitive than he was smug. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest had seen better days, but he wore it like a high-fashion suit. He'd pulled his long, silky hair into a fastener at his neck, but the wily tendrils still managed to cascade to his wide shoulders. His lips were pressed together, accentuating his strong cheekbones. She couldn't see the fairy kiss above his left eyebrow at this distance, but she knew it was there, waiting to tempt her. Even furious, Adriano spelled S-E-X.

She couldn't handle another scene with him. She would not be able to keep lying to him. The intensity of his piercing eyes would wear her down, and she'd confess every feeling she was hiding. She tried to angle her body away from him, but his determined strides hypnotized her. It made her shiver to think all that untamed energy was focused on her. The patrons scattered in the bus station felt it too. Conversations stopped—even the baby stopped crying. Everyone came to a standstill, all eyes trained on the man making his way across the room to her.

He stopped in front of her, setting the suitcase at his feet before he spoke. He was too much man—tall, handsome, adventurous, loyal. He crowded her space, scrambling her brain and making it impossible to think clearly. His first words melted all her defenses.

“I didn't want to give you my heart, but you took it anyway.”

A warm feeling traveled over her body.

“I don't want to think about you every minute of the day, but I do.”

His words knocked out a chink of her armor, but it wasn't enough for him, and he kept going.

“When I lay down, I want to sleep—not dream about you—but it happens every night.”

She had to stop him before she did something crazy. “Adriano—”

There was no deterring Adriano when his adrenalin kicked in and his goal was in sight. He plowed right over her, steamrolling to his destination. “I want to be everything to you.”

And there it was: the declaration she was too cowardly to make. The one she was too strong to make. She had learned a lot from him while they were together, mainly how to stay focused on obtaining the prize. In this case the prize was her brother's life.

“You want me to be able to walk away,” he said.

Yes.
She needed him to walk away because she was finding it too hard to do.

“Sorry, angel, I can't.”

“This is bigger than us.”

“Nothing is bigger than what I feel for you. Believe me. I'm standing here, trying to get you to admit you feel something for me.
I'm
the man who insists on all my relationships being casual, but I'm trying to talk you into staying with me until we see it through, when you're sitting there like you don't care.
I'm
the man who makes women cry when I walk away. Women don't break me down. But I'm still standing here, trying to convince you.”

The only thing she wanted to do was jump in his arms.

“I can't let you make me feel this . . . hopeless when I know it's not true, angel. I've laid everything out here. Now it's up to you. Do you feel anything for me?”

Her heart raced. She wanted to tell him . . . badly . . . but she couldn't. Because of Patrick, but also because what she'd said earlier was true. They would have to end it sooner or later, and there was no good in letting it go any further between them. It would only make the inevitable harder.

“Regardless of your answer,” Adriano said, “I'm still getting you to Columbia safely. I promised I would, and I will. No matter what goes on between us.”

“You can't.” The panic was renewed.

“I will. I keep my word.”

“I'm not going to Columbia,” she confessed.

He raised his fairy-kissed brow. “Where are you going?”