Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) (26 page)

BOOK: Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1)
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Nia finally stood up and walked toward Evan. He maintained his planted stance at the back of the room, his face more hardened than he knew.
“You don’t need to watch us like a hawk, Evan,” she snapped, giving him the eye. “I’m ordering Chinese and Nigel is staying for dinner.”
They ate sometime later. Evan stayed in the back of the apartment, watchful but distant, listening to the hum of their conversation for the next couple of hours. Finally, St. Clair left for the night. Evan followed him outside, and watched as the other man got into a higher-end sedan parked down the street and drove off, engine revving high. He then secured the perimeter of the duplex again, and was headed back into the apartment when his phone rang with a call. It was from Raymond.
“Ice, the state police just found a dead body in a motel in Somerville. It was Chris Morton.”
“Okay, give me a minute.”
Evan locked the front door, then checked on Nia. She was in the shower.
“What are the details?” he finally asked in reply.
“He’s been dead for a few days, maybe even since Thursday,” Raymond explained. “It was a gunshot to the head. Same caliber as the hit on Flannigan.”
“Shit! Someone took him out the same day as the attempt on Nia. They were cleaning up.”
“Yeah, but who?”
Evan ran his hand over his head.
“It’s whoever was listening through the bug on Nia’s laptop. And if it wasn’t Morton, then it has to be Walsh or whoever he hired to steal the jewels. We have to find them, Raymond.”
“I’m working on it,” muttered Raymond with frustration. “But I think I’ve found out what Holstein wants to bargain with. The bank account used for the money transfer isn’t his. Not directly, anyway. I did some aggressive network intrusion in places I shouldn’t, and the Cayman account traces back to a shell company also registered on the island. The same shell company owns Holstein’s venture capital firm, but it’s also a small subsidiary of Strom Investments.”
“Strom,” Evan repeated with a mix of urgency and dread.
“Yeah. They’re a stock brokerage company with corporate headquarters in Detroit, but their biggest office is on Wall Street.”
Evan’s heart was pounding as he looked across the room as Nia walked in from her bedroom, now dressed in a soft nightshirt.
“Looking at Holstein’s balance sheet, I don’t think he would blow two million dollars on some jewelry that he could never sell,” Raymond added. “I think he was representing the real buyer.”
“Send me everything you have,” Evan stated in a low voice.
Chapter 25
Evan was up long after Nia had gone to bed Wednesday night. He couldn’t sleep. The implications of what Raymond had revealed were racing through his brain.
Strom Investments was founded in Bloomfield, Michigan, twenty years ago by Walter Strom. Now, his son Colby was an upstart executive in the company, managing their New York office. The same Colby Strom who had viciously attached Nia just eleven years ago.
It all made sense. Like Tony’s contact Spencer had told them, people who wanted to know about jewels knew of Worthington’s acquisition of the Crimson Amazon for their upcoming auction. And if Strom were keeping tabs on Nia, he definitely would have known about it. Then he set out to steal it right out from under her, and possibly ruin her career in the process.
When Evan looked at the picture of Colby he found online, it wasn’t hard to imagine the resentment that was fueling him. If he had once been a good-looking boy, there were few signs of it now. Whatever Nigel St. Clair had done to him had left considerable damage to his bone structure around his nose and along his jaw. And any plastic surgery since had only left mask-like skin over a lopsided frame.
It was definitely enough to feed the rage of a narcissistic sociopath who would rape a fifteen-year-old classmate, and capture it on film. And he must have blamed Nia for the damage done to him after.
Thursday morning, Evan told Lucas what they had found.
“Who else on the team knows about the details of Nia’s juvenile records?” Evan asked.
“Just you, me, and Sam,” his friend replied.
“Good. I’d like to keep it that way if possible. For Nia’s sake. I think we should hand over what we know to the feds and let them take down Strom. They won’t need to cut a deal with Holstein. I’m sure Raymond was just scratching the surface of what that prick Strom was involved in.”
“No problem, I’ll send them what we have today,” Lucas stated. “Now, are you ready to owe me drinks for the next month? I finally locked down the IP address for that bugged laptop power cord. The signal was bouncing around in a random rerouting pattern. But once I was able to isolate—”
“Luc, what did you find!” Evan finally interrupted, impatiently.
“The IP address for the receiver, and a location in Dorchester.”
“Send it to me.”
Evan had the team assembled in the Worthington warehouse a few moments later working out a plan to investigate the receiver, and the renter of the residence, a Tommy Blige with a sizeable criminal background. By noon, he, Tony, and Michael were converging on a townhouse only a few blocks from where Flannigan was shot. Michael knocked at the front door, while Evan and Tony entered through the unlocked rear entrance. Apparently, the single male occupant didn’t like Michael’s look, but when he turned to run out of the house, he found the other two Fortis agents blocking his path. There was a brief struggle in which Evan landed a couple of satisfying blows to Blige’s face. But it was an otherwise smooth operation.
Not only did they find the receiver to Nia’s bug, but there was also an impressive amount of illegal equipment and contraband in the house to make talking worthwhile for Blige. He gave up what he knew pretty easily, confessing to be one of the three robbers, and responsible for the work on Worthington’s surveillance to loop the video and shut down the motion sensors. Fortis walked away with the names of his others partners in the heist. All three were in police custody within hours, and now under investigation for the murders of Matt Flannigan and Chris Morton related to the stolen property found in Blige’s house. But Blige couldn’t give them Walsh.
“I still don’t see where Chris Morton fits into all this,” Tony stated when they were back at Worthington at the end of the day. “Blige confirmed Flannigan planted the bug and gave them access to the warehouse the night of the robbery. Then Blige and his two partners stole the stones and delivered them to a locker in Gleason Courier’s depot. Just like the delivery driver told us. But what about Morton? And Flannigan’s girlfriend, Coombs? No one in Blige’s crew even mentioned their names.”
The same thing was bothering Evan.
“Let’s regroup in the morning before we pack up,” he suggested. “With the stolen assets acquired and everyone involved either in police custody or dead, the mission has been successfully completed. We’ve neutralized the threat to Nia.”
“What about Walsh, Ice?” Michael asked. “We still don’t know who he is.”
“No, we don’t. His operation is much bigger than the Worthington robbery. So he’s the FBI’s problem now. We’ll give them everything we know for a head start.”
 
 
Nia was out of time. She had known it was inevitable but it still took her by surprise.
She was lying next to Evan, early in the morning. Her head was on his chest and he was trailing his fingers over her arm. The sun was starting to rise. Time was almost up.
It was Friday, and Fortis had officially completed their mission. Chris Morton confirmed dead, the thieves were in police custody, and the investigation into the jewelry heist was almost over. With the Worthington security team now trained on the new system, Evan and his agents were scheduled to leave Boston today.
“Nia,” Evan whispered.
She knew they had to talk. There was so much to say, yet Nia had managed to avoid any meaningful conversations for the last few days. They discussed the case, her work, his dad’s collection, what they’d do for dinner each evening.
Then, despite promising herself that she wouldn’t let it happen again, that it was pointless, she walked into his arms again last night, for one more time. It had been slow and leisurely, meant to last for as long as possible.
“Nia, we need to talk,” he continued.
“I know,” she acknowledged.
“Tell me what you want?” Evan asked.
How did Nia explain that she wanted this, here, now, with him in warm comfort in the aftermath of incredible sexual chemistry? If this was all there was, she’d be good, content. But she didn’t want the rest of it. She didn’t want the need and dependency, to lose herself in someone else, her happiness controlled by them. The risk of betrayal and pain. To be so in love with a man that he could destroy her.
But Nia knew that she couldn’t have one without the other, and the cost was just too high.
“I really like you, Evan,” she started, and his body stiffened immediately. “But I don’t see us working out long-term.”
The words seemed to hover in the air above the bed. They sounded so emotionless and final. His fingers stopped moving and he didn’t respond. Seconds ticked by as she waited for him to say something, anything. Nia closed her eyes, wanting to cry. Her heart felt constricted.
“I don’t understand,” he finally said. “Explain it to me, Nia.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” she replied, feeling cornered.
“You mean you don’t want to.”
He pulled his arm out from under her and sat up, swinging his legs off the end of the mattress. She immediately felt cold, alone.
“So, what was all this then?” he demanded, sweeping his hand around in circles to indicate the bed and what they had done in it, repeatedly. “Why, Nia?”
“What difference does it make?”
“No more games!” snapped Evan. “Stop avoiding the issue. Just tell me why. I at least deserve that much.”
She couldn’t lie there anymore. Nia scrambled off the opposite side of the bed. She walked across the room, naked, to grab her robe off the hook behind the bathroom door.
“How exactly would this play out, Evan?” she questioned, sarcastically. “I say ‘yes, let’s be together.’ What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means just that. We’re together, in a relationship. We make a commitment, make plans for the future,” he shot back, his face wrinkled in confusion. “It’s a fairly common concept, Nia.”
“Then what? Walk me through how this would go. We date long distance? For how long? Then what?” she insisted, starting to pace in front of him. “We move in together? Where would we live?”
Evan hung his head, shaking it from side to side.
“I don’t know. But we’d figure it out. That’s the point. We’d find a solution,” he stated quietly.
She laughed, clearly not amused.
“There’s only one solution, Evan. I’m supposed to leave my job, give up my career, become your Stepford robot,” she spat. “I’ll whittle away my time in the Virginia mansion in winter, at Martha’s Vineyard in the summer. Maybe I’ll start a charity, hang out with the elegant Mikayla Stone-Clement for tennis matches at the country club. Become a nice, understated wife.”
“What are you talking about! I never said any of that!”
He stood up, gloriously naked and towering with frustration.
“You don’t have to. I can read the tea leaves pretty well,” she muttered.
Nia turned away, out of steam. Now, she just wanted the whole thing over and done with.
“Nia, none of that is true. I want you, just the way you are,” he replied, his tone marginally softer. “Why would I want you to change? Become anything like you described?”
She didn’t reply, standing firm with her arms crossed and back to him.
“I don’t know where we’d live and frankly, I don’t care,” added Evan. “We can stay here, I’ll commute to Alexandria by helicopter when needed. I doesn’t friggin’ matter, Nia.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she threw over her shoulder.
“I’m being ridiculous? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
There was a pause as they both stubbornly held their ground. Until Evan let out a bark of harsh laughter.
“This is all just smoke and mirrors, isn’t it, Nia.” He strode forward and took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Where’s that honesty you’ve always shown? Why don’t you just admit that you’re scared?”
She shook off his hands, attempted to walk away, but he blocked her path.
“Let me pass!”
“No, not until I hear the truth. You’re afraid.”
“Yes! I’m afraid!” she yelled back out of sheer frustration. “I’m scared that you’ll lie to me, manipulate me. That you’re pretending to be something you’re not. That I’ll give up everything I have to be with you and be left with nothing when it all falls apart!”
Evan stepped back as though she had hit him. Nia covered her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.
Damn it!
She turned away before he could see them spill.
“Nia. That’s not going to happen,” he whispered.
She walked away, afraid he’d touch her and then she’d really fall apart.
“It already has, Evan.”
“No, no. We talked about this. You know how it happened. It was my job!” She heard his sharp sigh. “We can get past this.”
“I understand you were doing what you needed to, Evan. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. And I’d be a fool to give you the opportunity to hurt me again.”
“I wouldn’t. Damn it, Nia. I love you! Can’t you see that?”
“Maybe,” she whispered, turning back to him but unable to meet his eyes. “But I also know it can be a fleeting, fickle thing. It’s just not enough.”
“You can’t be this cynical.”
“Call it experience, Evan.”
That seemed to knock the wind out of his sails. He brushed by her, and Nia listened to him moving around the room. She wiped the tears off her face, but they just kept coming.
“At least tell me that this meant something to you, Nia,” he finally asked, his voice low and rough. “Being with you . . . Tell me you felt even a fraction of what I did.”
Nia couldn’t say the words. They were stuck in her throat, cutting off her breathing. She was sobbing now, her shoulders shaking from the wave of sadness that engulfed her. The bathroom door closed firmly as Evan left the room.
By the time he emerged from the bedroom a short time later, she was waiting in the kitchen much more composed. It was only a few minutes before seven o’clock yet the day already felt old and worn. He was fully dressed in his now usual black gear and carrying his duffel bag. Nia forced herself to walk forward, meeting him near the front entrance of her apartment. Neither spoke. There was nothing else to be said.
She opened the door, eyes downcast, praying the tears didn’t return. He brushed his finger under her chin, lifting her face. Their eyes met briefly, hers shining, his dark and clouded. He lowered his head and kissed her, brushing his lips against hers as though to taste them for the last time.
Then Evan DaCosta was gone, striding down the hall of the duplex and out of her life.
 
 
In the aftermath of the theft, things went back to normal at Worthington fairly quickly. Eager to get things back on track, Nia tried to create a sense of stability and community within the office, rallying everyone toward the upcoming summer auction. There were a few days of gossip around Chris’s mysterious death, including more rumors of drug use. Emma in particular seemed preoccupied and less cheery than usual. While Edward immediately began the search for a new operations manager, Nia suggested they involve Emma in the interview process to keep her engaged.
Despite how badly things had ended between them, Evan didn’t quite disappear from her life as she had anticipated.
The day after his departure, she got a call on her cell phone. Nia was having lunch with Lianne after her tutor session, then almost choked when she saw the number. When she didn’t answer, he left a voice-mail message, just to say hello, make sure she was okay.
The next week, he called again with a message offering more of the same. She answered the third call, Friday evening. It was one week after she had walked away from his commitment. They only talked briefly, stilted. He teased her about what movie she’d be watching, she criticized his bad taste in superheroes. When they hung up, Nia cried, wishing things could be different. Saturday, she stayed at the community center for several hours writing another song. It was the last day of her volunteer term before the summer programs started.

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