kobo risk (3 page)

Ivy sat and tried to remain patient, but
as the time ticked by, she felt a sense of importance, that she needed to get
to Cullen’s second home and find a good hiding place for this locked box.

Whatever it contained, Cullen had used at
least one of his three phone calls to insure that she take care of
it—which made that duty about as important as Ivy could imagine.

But the traffic was moving at its own
pace and a slow crawl was about as good as they seemed able to do.

“Is there any alternate route?” she
called out to the driver.

“Afraid not,” he said.
 
“This whole area is a bottle neck,” he
said.
 
“I do apologize.”

She sighed.
 
“It’s fine.”

He nodded and they continued struggling
slowly over the bridge.

By the time they got past the bridge,
across the water and onto Cape Cod, too much time had passed.

What if the authorities were tailing
them?

What if Lucas and the FBI was waiting
when she got there, ready to intercept the box?

Ivy’s legs jittered, her foot restlessly
tapping as she waited to arrive at the destination.
 
After a bit more time on a smaller
thoroughfare, they exited the highway and swung into the small town of
Barnstable.

It was a beautiful, quaint town that Ivy
would certainly have appreciated in different circumstances.

There were little stores, a post office
about the size of a trailer, some shops, and an ancient looking library.

And then they hit the harbor area and Ivy
couldn’t help but have her breath taken away at its beauty.

The water lapping the shore, and the
boats drifting gently on the waves.

Fisherman out doing their daily catch.

They drove past the harbor and then
turned down an extremely narrow road with only room for one car to pass through
at any given time.

The limousine drove down to the end of
the road and then parked.

“This is it, Miss Sharpe,” the driver
said.

She looked out the window and saw
Cullen’s second home.
 
It was
enormous and gorgeous, sitting right on the edge of a bluff overlooking the
harbor and the ocean.

“Amazing,” she sighed, despite her
concerns.
 
“Thank you for the ride,”
she said.
 
As she was about to got
out, it occurred to her that she should make sure he knew to wait for her.
 
“I shouldn’t be long,” she said.
 
“Could you just wait here for a few
minutes?”

The driver gave her a strange look.
 
“You’re not staying?”

“No, I just have to look in on the house
quickly.
 
It shouldn’t take more
than…half an hour,” she said.

“Oh,” the driver said, sounding strangely
puzzled.
 
“I just assumed you and
Mister Sharpe would be staying overnight.”

“He’s not here,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.
 
He is.”
 
The driver pointed towards his window
and Ivy looked out and saw a figure standing up on the front balcony
overlooking the harbor.
 
He was a
dark silhouette from this angle, however, and she couldn’t make out any
details.

“That can’t be him,” she said.
 
“I don’t know who that is, but it’s not
him.”

Ivy got out of the car, her stomach in
knots.
 
Who was that person standing
on Cullen’s balcony?

And then, as the figure turned to face
her and she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she saw that it was
in fact Cullen standing on the balcony.

Ivy nearly fell over, gasping from shock.

It didn’t make an ounce of sense.
 
It was like seeing a ghost.

Cullen was in jail.

And yet clearly, he wasn’t.
 

“Come on up,” Cullen called out,
gesturing to a set of stairs that led up to the balcony.

Ivy walked on unsteady legs to the stairs
and climbed to the balcony that overlooked the harbor.

Cullen was standing there, dressed in
khakis and a loose fitting shirt, and he looked showered and shaved and none
the worse for wear.
 

“I’m so confused right now,” she said,
barely able to speak.

He came close and cupped her cheek with
his hand, smiling.
 
“You know I
enjoy surprising you, Ivy.”
 
And
then he leaned in and kissed her with his perfect lips, and she hugged him
tightly, starting to cry.

“I know I’m being a baby,” she said,
sniffling.
 
“I just don’t
understand.
 
How are you here right
now?
 
You’re supposed to be in
jail.”

Cullen chuckled.
 
“I thought so, too.
 
But apparently my lawyer had a few more
tricks up his sleeve, because they released me just a few minutes after we got
off the phone.”
 
Cullen shook his
head.
 
“I still need to get in touch
with Drake and find out how the hell he pulled this one off.”

Ivy suddenly knew that Peg Woodhouse had
been telling the god’s honest truth.
 
She blinked, trying to take it all in.

A stiff breeze blew in from the ocean and
stirred her hair.
 
Ivy brushed it
from her face.
 
“And then how did
you get here so fast?
 
We were stuck
in traffic forever going over the bridge.”

Cullen laughed.
 
“Helicopters don’t get stuck in traffic,
silly.”
 
He grinned at her.
 
“I figured if I got lucky, I might get
down here a few minutes after you.
 
Little did I know I’d get to the house before you.
”

He was in amazingly good spirits, given
everything he’d been through.

Ivy hardly wanted to tell him the truth.
 
In fact, she was dreading it, knowing
that he had no idea about the bargain she’d struck to win his quick release
from jail.

“Quite a trickster, aren’t you?” she
said, smiling.

“I thought you’d be happier to see me,”
he said, watching her closely.

“Oh, God.
 
I am happy to see you, Cullen.”
 
She looked into his cool blue eyes, and
knew it was true.
 
Her heart
stirred, and her stomach did the flip that she was getting used to, still.

Every time she saw him.

Every single time.

Cullen stroked her cheek again.
 
“Then what’s the matter?
 
It is the box?” he asked.
 

“No, that wasn’t a problem.”
 
She opened her purse and showed him.

Cullen reached in and took it out,
seeming to handle it carefully.
 
His
expression grew somber.
 
“Thank
you,” he whispered.
 
“Come inside
with me.”

Ivy followed him as he opened the sliding
door and led her into the beautifully modernized interior of the house.

From the outside, the home looked
weathered, in the classic Cape style of all the homes in the area.
 
But inside, it was gorgeous and updated
with all the amenities.

The kitchen was enormous, with stainless
steal appliances, granite countertops, and a large stove, and the interior of
the house was open concept as well.

There were windows all around, looking
out over the bluff to the ocean in every direction.

The living area was full of gorgeous
furniture, a large television, and recess lighting.

When the wind blew, Ivy could hear the
tinkle of chimes on the balcony.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said,
admiring the place as Cullen walked through, carrying the box.

He went downstairs and she followed him.

In the basement area, he walked into an
area that was like a walk-in pantry filled with canned goods, bottles of water,
and a large wine rack.

Cullen slid one of the bulky looking
refrigerators that were set against the wall and revealed a trap door.

He opened the trap door, knelt down and
dropped the box into the darkness.
 
Then he shut the door, rose to his feet, dusted his hands and maneuvered
the refrigerator back into place over it.

Cullen’s biceps and forearms bulged as he
moved the heavy piece into position.

When he was done, he turned and looked at
her.
 
“That’s done,” he said.

“Can I ask what’s in the box?
 
Or do I not want to know?”

Cullen looked down at the floor.
 
“It’s not that kind of thing.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.
 
“I mean, you called me from jail to make
sure I got it out of the fireplace.
 
You were so worried about it being found.”

Cullen nodded.
 
“I was concerned about that, yes.
 
But I don’t want to talk about it
now.
 
Maybe another time.”

She felt a bit of frustration start to
well inside her.
 
After all, Ivy was
working on Cullen’s behalf, trusting him completely, despite the fact that she
had no real way of knowing exactly what Cullen was guilty of or innocent of
when it came to his strange past.

Yet he chose not to trust her with much
information.

“Well, I could make the case that now
is
the time to tell me,” Ivy said.
 
“I have things to tell you as well, but
I could choose to keep them to myself.
 
Just so as to not have to deal with your reaction.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed.
 
“My reaction to what, exactly?”

She shrugged.
 
“Maybe it’s for another time,” she said.

“Don’t play games, Ivy.”

“Why are you the only one allowed to keep
secrets, Cullen?
 
What’s in the
box?
 
Am I going to go to jail for
removing evidence of a crime?”

He started to laugh, then.
 
“Oh, Ivy.
 
Please.”

“It’s not funny,” she said.
 
“You don’t understand how confusing it
is.”

His smile faded.
 
“You’re not the only feeling
frustrated.
 
Let’s not forget, I’m
in this position partly because of your mother’s accusations that I’m a danger
to you.
 
And who gave her that idea
in the first place?”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Ivy said.
 
“My mother went crazy.
 
I had no idea she was going to do that.”

“Let’s not blame one another, then,”
Cullen said, walking towards her.

She tried to remember that Cullen was
free, that they’d already had an enormous victory.
 
Cullen could still be in jail, but no.

He’s
here with me.

I
wish we could just kiss all night—he could ravish me in his beautiful
home and take me in every position.

And
we could forget about the outside world, forget about all the situations and
people conspiring to make us miserable.

But there was no way to avoid the
conversation that needed to happen now.

“Your lawyer didn’t get you out of jail
today,” Ivy said suddenly.

Cullen’s brow furrowed and he pulled back
as if he’d been physically pushed.
 
“Excuse me?”

“Drake Bennett didn’t do anything to get
you out.
 
He didn’t pull any strings.
 
I called him myself and asked him what
to do, and he said we had to just wait.
 
He said you might sit there for at least twenty-four hours, and that the
judge might even decide not to set bail because you could be considered a
flight risk.”

Cullen stroked his chin as she
spoke.
 
“Then I’m to understand that
you had something to do with my being released so quickly?”

“Yes,” Ivy said.
 
“I told you that Peg Woodhouse showed up….”

Cullen’s expression turned stony.
 
“Ivy, don’t tell me that you spoke to
that woman.
 
Because if Peg
Woodhouse is involved in my life in any way—“

“I had no choice,” Ivy said.

“You always have a choice.”

“Just listen to me,” she said, her voice
rising.
 
“I had to do something to
get you out of there.”

Cullen’s nostrils flared.
 
“I never asked you to take on that
responsibility.”
 
He pointed at his
chest.
 
“I get myself out of things.
 
I run my own goddamn life.”