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Authors: Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon

BOOK: Fugitive Heart
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“And afterward? If everything goes all right, you leave for New York.” Her lips pressed tight, and Nick realized she was struggling to keep her emotions under control.

He shook his head. “Not necessarily. Not right away. I got a house here, after all, and it’s not as if I have a job to go back to. Gotta say, it’s probably better if I stay away from New York. Maybe Bert will let me go for old times’ sake, but I wouldn’t count on the same treatment from his family.”

“Even though you helped find their stuff and returned it.”

He nodded. “I’m caught up in Elliot’s mess, and if they can’t find him to make an example of, they might just use me.”

She took her hands from her hips only to cross her arms over her chest, another confrontational pose. “Fine. I get your point about seeing the man alone, but I could at least hide nearby. If things start to go bad, I can call nine-one-one for backup. You shouldn’t go into this alone.”

Nick was touched, truly touched, and utterly annoyed that she refused to simply do what he told her to do. “That’s not a bad idea, but—”

She held up a hand. “No buts. I’m not some fainting maiden you have to protect, and I won’t do anything stupid like barge into the middle of your meeting. Like I said, I’ll just be close in case you need help.”

“We should tell the cops everything,” Jake spoke up. “Elliot’s my best friend, but this is too much. Hit men? No way. We gotta bail on this right now.”

“No!” This time it was Ames who chimed in with Nick.

“Please, Jake,” she said. “Going to the cops was my first response too, but it won’t help keep Elliot—or Nick—safe. Let Nick see this through. If everything goes well, the criminals, um, the original owners can return with their package to whatever it is they do. I don’t even want to know. It’ll be over, and maybe Elliot can live his life wherever he’s gone. If he comes back for his stash, we’ll deal with him ourselves.”

“I’m coming with you, then,” Jake said. “I’ll wait with Ames. Once you figure out where you’re going to meet this guy, we’ll hide and watch.”

“Get him to meet you in a public place, a restaurant or a bar, and we can sit there in plain sight. He wouldn’t know who we are,” Ames added.

“Fine,” Nick snapped, losing his cool at last. He wanted to shake off these two but they were stuck to him like burrs. “But first I’ve got to call Bert and arrange a meeting.”

He checked his watch. It was nearly two a.m., but he didn’t think Bert would complain about being woken up. It would be the first time Nick had contacted him since leaving New York. Bert probably thought he’d simply skipped town. Time to let him know Nick was fulfilling his promise and had found the ledger and money, if not Elliot.

He looked back and forth between Ames and Jake. “I need a little privacy for this. Can you guys go in the house and have some coffee or something?”

Ames narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to take off while we’re in there.” It was a command, not a question.

“No. I promise.” He held her gaze, those beautiful forget-me-not eyes, and lied through his teeth.

She nodded and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss, only a light brush of her lips, yet it set his heart hammering—and made Jake stare at them.

“I’ll be right in,” Nick promised.

“Okay. See you in a few minutes.” Ames smiled brightly, snatched up the package and sashayed toward the door.

Curses. Foiled again. Nick grinned inside as she thwarted his evil plan to leave her behind for her own good.

The door closed behind Jake. Nick pulled out his cell phone and pressed Bert’s number.

It rang only three times before a familiar gravelly voice answered. “Yeah?”

“It’s Nick. I told you I’d get back what Elliot stole. Now I’ve got it—the most important part, anyway. I’ll be starting back to New York today to deliver it as promised.”

“Don’t bother. I’m on my way to Wisconsin. I’ll meet you,” Bert answered shortly. “What about Jensen?”

For the first time in hours, Nick could breathe normally. Bert was willing to deal. They were all probably safe. Probably.

“Gone. I don’t know where, but I’d guess out of the country. Does it matter so long as you’ve got the ledger and some of the money back?”

There was a pause in which Nick heard the unspoken answer—of course it mattered—and then Bert said, “Where do you want to meet?”

“There’s a diner called the Back Porch. The parking lot there.”

“Too public. Maybe a field outside of town,” Bert suggested.

“Too isolated.”

Bert gave an annoyed grunt. “You want to do this right in front of the Podunk police station?”

“I know a place. An empty house in the country. But I’m going to need some kind of insurance. I…” He paused, trying to decide how to give himself a bit of leverage without pissing off Bert even more. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but I gotta tell you, Bert, I don’t feel real confident you’re not going to end me. So I’ll give you the ledger and money I found, but I’m holding back the flash drive.”

“Fuck that. You’ll give everything or no deal.”

“You understand my position. Your family makes an example of anyone who crosses them, I get that, but I had nothing to do with this other than having the misfortune of rooming with Elliot Jensen in college.
I’m
not the one who stole from you.”

Another pause and then Bert sighed. “I believe you, and I haven’t forgotten our history, but this isn’t up for negotiation. Bring me every damn thing you’ve got, or you’re going to have to pay for what your pal did. Now tell me the address of the house.”

Chapter Twelve

Ames sipped the coffee, surprisingly good stuff, though her stomach was close to rebelling.

Jake tapped a rhythm on his mug, got up, looked out the window. “So you trust this guy?”

“Yes.” She realized it was true. In one short day, she’d gone from suspecting Nick of harming Elliot to completely believing in him.

“Yeah.” Jake looked at the table where the cash and the rest of the stuff lay—a very strange decorative centerpiece in Alice Greely’s neat kitchen. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Who’d have guessed old Elliot would tangle with real bad guys?” His slow head shake seemed to be admiring. Jake would always admire her brother.

She closed her eyes and waited.

A few minutes later, Nick came in the back door, closing it softly behind him and then locking it. She wanted to run to him, burrow in close to feel his reassuring touch, but she couldn’t look like a weenie or he’d leave her here.

“We’re meeting tomorrow at the house.”

“House?”

He grinned briefly. “Your house. The place I’m staying.”

“Why didn’t he want to meet in the café?” Ames shivered and hugged herself.

“He must figure his people would stand out like sore thumbs or more like space aliens.”

“His ‘people’?” Oh God.

“Don’t worry. Bert wouldn’t travel anywhere alone.” He shrugged as if to emphasize how unimportant the extra men were. “His dad, Cesar, is even worse. The guy must have seen too many gangster movies or maybe too many rock documentaries. He likes to have an entourage.”

He pointed to the stuff lying on the kitchen table. “Got another garbage bag we can use?”

Jake went to a drawer and, after fumbling with a box for a while, extracted a big green bag. Ames wondered how often he had to take out the garbage.

Nick tossed the money and the book into the bag and slung it over his back. He shoved the drive into his pocket and walked to the kitchen door.

Ames jumped up. “Wait for me.”

“Me too.” Jake put his cup in the sink.

Nick looked at them, a sour scowl on his face. She wished he didn’t look at her with the same expression he used for Jake.

“All right. We’ll take two cars.”

Jake grabbed some keys from the counter and jingled them. “Ready to go,” he said cheerfully, as if they were going on a trip to Dairy Queen.

The roads were nearly empty.

Nearly.

Ames glanced over her shoulder. Jake’s truck was behind them, but another set of headlights soon appeared as well. Even if she hadn’t been entirely paranoid, she would have noticed another car turning onto the road out of town, especially at two in the morning.

She twisted in her seat. “We’re being followed. Do you suppose it’s your friends?”

Nick glanced in the rearview. “Shouldn’t be. Not yet.”

She expected him to do some kind of maneuvering and try to lose the tail just in case, but he just turned into the long gravel drive that led to the house.

Partway down, he stopped and waited. Only one set of headlights followed—Jake’s.

 

They pulled up to the front of the house, and Jake jumped out of his truck and headed to the car. He held something at his side.

“Oh no,” she breathed. “He’s got a shotgun.”

Nick put his hand on her shoulder for a moment. “It’ll be okay.”

They got out of the car, but Nick kept the keys in and headlights on. He nodded a greeting at Jake. “Thanks for coming along.”

“You didn’t sound so happy about it at my house.” Jake looked him up and down. “Anyway, I’m doing this for Ames and Elliot, not you.”

“All good,” Nick soothed, and Ames thought,
he’s up to something. When he gets diplomatic, he’s got a plan.
She wasn’t sure if knowing that made her feel better.

“Listen, Jake. I need you to go back into town and check around for that SUV that was behind us. Did you get a good look at it? Would you recognize it if you saw it again?”

“Yeah. Absolutely. I know pretty much what everybody drives around town, and that wasn’t a local. I can hunt for it. And then what?”

“Maybe take a look at the motel parking lot. If you see that car, call me and let me know ASAP. Don’t go near it.”

“Damn, I’ll go talk to Billy and see what he knows.” Jake went back to his truck and began rooting through the empty fast-food bags and other junk on the passenger seat.

“Who’s Billy?”

Ames sighed. “The night guy on the desk at the Middle Inn. He’ll want to know why you’re curious, Jake.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Jake ambled back. He had put on a ball cap and carried a phone. “Seems to me that the more people who know something is going on, the better.”

“You could be right,” Nick said—the last thing she expected from him. “But that’s only if you can leave out the details about Elliot and Ames and me. Just say something about some strange activity.”

Jake wrinkled his big nose. “No one will believe me if I go all vague. The details make the story.”

“Then keep your mouth shut.” Nick lost some of the calm, and his eyes held the dangerous gleam she’d seen in the garage.

“Boring,” Jake said.

Nick’s arm shot out; he twisted, and suddenly he had yanked Jake in a hold, arm around his throat, another holding his arm back. Big Jake the football player scrabbled ineffectually at the forearm across his neck. “If I pull any tighter, you’ll pass out. This is something I learned as a kid. The people we’re talking about know a hell of a lot worse than this.”

Jake gasped something like, “Hurt.”

Nick had transformed into a frightening man. She’d guessed this casual violence lived in him, but the sight of it made her breath catch as if Nick pressed his arm to her throat.

The next second, he pushed Jake away from him and took a few steps back. Jake glared, panting.

“What the fuck?” His voice rasped as if his throat had been hurt.

“I need to get you to understand.” Nick sounded calm now. He might have just showed Jake an interesting dance move instead of attacking him. “If we do this right, we’ll be okay. But if we screw up, it’ll be a world of hurt. Got it?”

Jake fingered his throat and glared.

“Jake, listen. You could beat the crap out of me in a fair fight—and that wasn’t fair. But those guys you’ll be watching won’t be either.”

Nick could go from calm to seemingly angry to calm again in a matter of seconds. Or maybe he wasn’t really pissed off; he was a guy who had grown up in a world where viciousness was a form of communication. Ames shivered, wishing she hadn’t seen him in action. No, she should be glad, because she hadn’t truly understood until then. Could she trust him to touch her without that careless violence coming to the surface?

Jake picked up his cap that had fallen off and jammed it onto his head. Nick reached into his car and turned off the lights so the darkness took over the house and the gravel drive. Jake grunted something that might have been “Fuck you” before he climbed back into his truck and drove away.

Ames blinked, still adjusting to the dark. Nick must have had great night vision, because he walked across the driveway to the front door.

“Come on in, for a little while, anyway.” He didn’t even fumble with the key—he had the right one out immediately and opened the door without trouble.

“No way Bert’ll wait until ten a.m., of course.” Nick opened the fridge, stared inside and eventually pulled out some peanut butter, jelly and a loaf of bread.

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