Cold Comfort (35 page)

Claire sat down on the other side of the desk, trying to guess what happened from the one-sided conversation. Her thoughts drifted to the house on Stillwater Row. She jerked upright at Riley's tone.

"Why the hell didn't you take it with you? What good would it do there?" He listened briefly, then said in a calmer voice, "Okay, stay there. We'll have someone check." He put his head in his hands for a minute, then stood and went to Will, who was hanging up the phone on his desk.

"It's all set. The truck will be out there early tomorrow." Will looked up at Riley. "What?"

Riley flipped off the lights. "Bad news." Street lights already visible through the windows gave enough light to maneuver. "Darwin called a neighbor to say he'd be away for a while, and the neighbor told him his house had been broken into. They called the police, who said it looked like it had been searched. No serious damage." A lopsided smile touched his lips. "That's the good news."

"What happened?"

"The card I gave him with this number
—
" He pointed to the phone on the secretary's desk. "He left it beside the phone. He got the neighbor to check. It's gone."

"They can find out where the number's located faster than I can say 'Senator Jennings.' When was this?" Will sidled up to the window, checked the street below.

"This afternoon. I think Tony Trapp's running things, either for his uncle or his grandfather."

"That's it—that's who benefits
—
he's the only person left to inherit. Senator Jennings has no family left. I read it in Will's reports. After seeing his house, I realized there must be quite a bit of money involved, and when you called him 'Tony,' I remembered the picture you found on the Internet. You know, the gambling casino?"

"You might be on to something. Save that thought," Riley said. "Right now we've got to get out of here." He turned to Will. "Who's close? Can someone pick us up at the front door? They'll be expecting us at the back where the cars are. They're probably waiting for dark to make a move." Riley flattened himself against the wall by the window in the next office and surveyed the street below from the oblique angle.

"I love it when you're in town. It's always an adrenaline rush." Will lifted the phone and punched in a number. "Riley's back, boys. Fun and games for all." He explained what they needed. "Yeah, three cars, right at the door." He put the phone down. "They were already on standby. Jesse needs fifteen minutes—Cutter and Angel are with him."

"I hope we've got it. It's almost dark." Riley rolled Claire's chair across the floor and placed her with the file cabinets between her and the office door.

Claire wondered what she could get for her house, if she'd be able to cover these expenses. She supposed the carpet cleaner provided some kind of surveillance.

"Will, got any extra pants here?"

Will lifted an eyebrow at Riley's solid figure. "My suit."

"Give Claire the trousers." Riley hung Claire's long red coat on the rack and handed her his leather jacket. "Get rid of your skirt. Leave your coat here and wear this." He rummaged in Frieda's desk drawer and came up with a rubber band. "Use this and slick your hair down tight. Tuck the pony tail inside the jacket."

"Again? Won't they start to wonder?"

"Not this bunch, not if we're fast."

Will shook his head and picked up the phone again. "Let me know when you're ready," he said. "Jesse, I want you in front." He put the phone down and turned to Claire. "You okay? Once Riley gets it in gear, he doesn't waste much time."

Claire stepped into Will's trousers. Tight. She locked the zipper, hoping it would keep the trousers up, and dropped her skirt. She should be getting good at this. She folded the skirt and draped it over her shoulders, then slid her arms into Riley's jacket. She took a few steps, rocking her newly broad shoulders. "Think I'll scare them?"

"You scare me." Will held up his hands in mock horror.

Despite the roiling chill in her midriff, Claire grinned and slapped her palm against his.

Riley smiled, nodded his approval. "Go on, tell us your thoughts about Trapp."

She looked from one to the other. They sat calmly, waiting for her to speak. She returned to her chair, forced herself to concentrate on Tony Trapp. "In the picture you found, he was with someone outside the Trevi casino in New Jersey. The caption called him a frequent visitor. It came up when you searched for the gambling connection to the Geminellis. It mentioned that he was Elton Burley's nephew." Hope infused her. "If Tony Trapp is behind it, Senator Jennings may not know anything."

"Good for you, Claire. You're right. He's probably the guy Keith Spencer saw too. Did you see the tassels on his loafers? All the pieces fit
—
Tony Trapp doesn't have the clout to bring in the big guns. He may be in debt, and the senator's health is fragile. I'd bet Vince Trigoni
—
the guy in the photograph
—
hooked him up with Fortunato. If Trapp owes money, Trigoni won't care where he gets it so long as he pays."

"But why me? Why not kill his uncle?"

"His uncle, the United States Senator?" Riley shook his head. "It would take a lot more influence than Tony Trapp has to make the mob go after a senator."

Claire stood, began pacing. "Okay, I'm sure that's true. But I still don't know how they knew about me, or why
—
" She broke off and pointed to the door.

Both men listened. Will drew a gun. He and Riley moved silently in different directions, flattened themselves against opposite walls and peered out the windows.

Will pointed toward the parking lot and held up two fingers. "Time's up, boys and girls."

"They'll be on the stairs." Riley mouthed the words.

She saw more than heard him. He took her arm and followed Will, who was opening the window. It rose noiselessly. Riley gestured for him to go.

Claire leaned forward and saw the top of the awning a floor below. Will swung his legs over the sill and disappeared, followed by a soft
thud
. She saw Will swing his body over the awning support and drop to the ground like a gymnast. Riley's hands grasped her waist. "Wait!" She clutched his wrists. She was no gymnast.

"Sorry. Curl up tight. When you hit, roll to the edge and go over. Let Will catch you."

"I can't
—
" The shriek of an alarm interrupted her. She heard sounds in the hallway and the door to the front office crashed open at the same time she felt herself airborne, then falling. She hit the canvas hard and bounced painfully against the support, tumbling headfirst over the edge. Gunshots sounded above her.

Chapter 24

Claire dropped into Will's waiting arms. Her stomach took a minute to catch up.

She recovered her balance, and Will shoved her back against the wall and stepped out beside the awning, gun raised. "Stay tight against the building."

He fired. The awning sagged heavily. He fired twice more at the window as Riley rolled off the support, dropped lightly to his feet. "Where is she?"

"Here," she called from behind a bush.

Shots rained down from above. The awning dipped again, and a figure fell over the side, hit the ground with a solid
thunk
. Claire spotted his white bandage—Joey Fortunato. He groaned and flipped onto his stomach, struggled to get to his knees, a gun in his hand.

Riley and Will were focused on the action above. Claire grabbed one of the bricks lining the shrub bed and darted out, smashed it into the back of Fortunato's head. He collapsed.

"Good job," Riley said, firing at the window.

With one hand, Will flipped his phone open. "Now." He and Riley ran for the front of the building, holding Claire between them.

Her feet barely touched the snowy ground. They rounded the corner and stopped. Out of nowhere, three cars squealed up to the front of the building, fifty feet away. A siren wailed in the distance.

Will looked at Riley, who nodded.

"Claire, get in the first car, fast. The driver's Jesse Christensen. Will's taking the last car, and I'll be right behind you. Keep your head down and do what Jesse tells you." Riley gave her a quick kiss. "Be careful. We'll be covering you." He stepped away from the wall and fired at a car across the street. Then they ran, Claire sandwiched between them. Bullets whined past her. Bits of concrete exploded behind them.

The door opened as they reached the first car.

"I'm Jesse." The driver yanked her inside and sped away. She struggled to get all the way in and close the door, noticing the lack of interior light
—
did they do this all the time? She looked back. The two other cars hung on their tail. She thought they'd made it when another car shot toward them.

Jesse pushed her head forward onto her knees. "Don't move."

She felt the car bump and spin, knew they'd jumped a curb and changed direction. More gunshots sounded. The sirens screamed louder, closing in. The gunfire stopped.

He whipped to the right and killed the engine. "Come up and put your arms around me. Pretend we're making out, and pray the cops go on by
—
you look like a cross-dresser."

Jesse, whose face she'd barely glimpsed, pulled her to him and wrapped big arms around her, holding his gun between her and the seat, out of sight. They were in the parking lot of a dark office building. Light from the street lamp glinted off his short brown hair, and she could see his clear hazel eyes as he watched the traffic. Nice man
—
she was glad they'd put her with him.

Cars seemed to be going in all directions. She had no idea who was who. A flashing blue light rounded the corner. Claire yanked the rubber band off her hair and fluffed it out. "Maybe this will help."

"Better. They'd be suspicious of two guys if they're searching for someone." He watched over the back of the seat for a minute. "They've gone after Will."

"What will happen? Where's Riley?"

"He's leading the other car away. He'll let them get close enough to stay interested and then most likely lose them.
Shh
." Jesse lowered the windows and listened intently. "You hear anything?" he said, so low she wasn't sure he'd spoken.

A dog barked once. The sirens faded in the distance.

"Nothing," she said on a breath of air.

Jesse started the engine, eased onto the street with the windows still down. Snow blew in at them. "Buckle up. If we see or hear anything
—
anything at all
—
duck and hold tight."

"Right. I'm quite good at it. It's a talent I never expected to develop."

He gave her a puzzled look.

A car turned a corner up ahead and Claire ducked. "Is it them?"

Jesse didn't answer for a minute, then laughed. "It's Riley." He flipped open his phone, pressed it to his ear. "Yeah. Figures. Fun while it lasted." He closed it and turned to Claire. "Stay put. Riley's changing cars with me." He opened the door and disappeared before she could say more than "Thanks" from her customary position
—
hunched over and out of sight.

Riley slid in beside her in a cloud of cold air. "What's with the hair?"

"Can I sit up?"

"Okay, just be ready to disappear again."

Her world had vanished. Maybe she'd wandered onto a movie set, and no one remembered to tell her. She sat up, leaned her head against the seat back, and giggled. "I've been making out with Jesse
—
he didn't want the police to think we were two men."

"You've been out of my sight for less than ten minutes." He glanced over at her, eyebrows raised, an amused look on his face. "Want to tell me about it?"

"This can't be me. I feel like I'm watching someone else." She shivered violently. "Can we put the windows up now? Or are we still listening?"

All four windows rose, and warm air blasted them from the heater. "That's the best I can do right now. I need both hands on the wheel."

"What happened back at the office? All of a sudden, cars whizzed by in all directions. We spun around
—
I don't even know which way we went. Then we heard gunshots and sirens. Jesse whipped into a parking lot, and we pretended to be making out when the cops drove past. I don't think they noticed us."

"Jesse's a good man. I trust him." He reached over and ruffled her hair. "You gotta admit, we know how to show a girl a good time."

"You sure do. I just don't know how much more fun I can stand." Her skirt hung out of the jacket. She unwrapped it from her shoulders and tossed it into the back seat. "I shouldn't need that for a while."

He opened the phone again. "I need to see if Will's free yet."

"Free? From what?"

"The police. He'll have stopped for them, probably had to go back to the station." He closed the phone. "His line's busy."

"Is he in trouble?"

"No. He has enough permits to carry a small arsenal and enough big names on speed dial to stay out of jail, but he'll have a lot to explain. The police might have picked up Fortunato
—
if his buddies didn't haul him away. He might be traceable to someone who wants to stay anonymous."