Silent Pursuit (11 page)

“Do you think there's something on here?”

“Who knows? We'll definitely need to check. But I need the right equipment. I could call Mac, but I think Jase might be the best one to contact about this.”

“What kind of equipment do you need?” Joseph asked from the top of the cellar stairs.

Ian looked up. “Stuff to read this hard drive.”

“I can get it for you. Let me make a call.”

“Great.”

Joseph turned to head back to the house and Ian stood. “Come on.” He offered her a hand and she took it. He pulled her up and said, “I'm starving. Let's get a bite to eat while we wait for Joseph's contact to bring up whatever we need.”

They returned to the kitchen, and Gina saw that Joseph had accomplished quite a bit in cleaning up. Her refrigerator stood back where it belonged, although the dent in the side didn't bode well for future use. Four large trash bags, filled and tied off, sat ready for the dump. Not bad, all in all. Having the room look halfway decent slid a measure of peace back into her soul.

They found Joseph in the den, straightening furniture and trashing broken items. He looked up when they came in and said, “I called Catelyn and she called the department's computer forensics guy. He's going to bring some equipment over to my house. Catelyn also threw together some lunch stuff. We can eat and work at the same time.”

Gina raised a brow at her brother's efficiency. “You got someone to come over on Thanksgiving Day?”

“He owes Catelyn big time. She proved his nephew innocent of a hit-and-run charge about a year ago.”

Ian looked around. “All right. We've probably spent too
much time here anyway. Let's take separate routes back to your house just in case anyone's watching.”

Joseph nodded. “Good idea. I'll meet you there.”

Her gaze bouncing between the two men, she felt a lump form in her throat.
Thank you, God, for the protection you're providing. Please continue to keep us safe.

T
he trip back to Joseph and Catelyn's house was uneventful; however, Ian worried that staying with them might be putting the couple in danger. And yet, what was the alternative?

Here, Gina had an FBI agent, a homicide detective and a Ranger to watch over her. Realistically, she was in the safest place possible without hiding her away in a safe house somewhere.

Which might be the next step if these guys kept coming after her.

Ian's current commanding officer had given approval for Ian to continue to work this in conjunction with his old unit and Mac. Ian had thanked the man without saying anything about not using anyone from Mac's unit.

So, he was on his own. With Joseph and Catelyn as the backup plan.

He'd just have to see how all this played out.

And keep Gina out of the way while he was doing it.

Ian parked the car out of sight of the neighborhood street by driving around back to the small apartment garage. Gina climbed out, hard drive in hand, and made her way to the back door of her brother's house.

Catelyn met them at the door once again, saying, “Frank's on his way over.”

Ian raised a brow. “The computer guy?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I told him he could finish his turkey and then to get himself over here.”

Gina groaned. “What a Thanksgiving. Poor guy.”

Catelyn ushered them inside. “Don't worry about it. Frank hates football so he was grateful for the escape. And he lives to do this stuff.”

Joseph came through the front door. “All clear. I didn't have anyone tail me, and I'm assuming since you're here, you didn't see anyone either.”

“Not a soul. Kind of weird. It worries me.” Ian frowned. “I really almost expected them to try something.”

Joseph nodded. “I did, too. And like you, the fact that they didn't has me wondering what's next.”

“Well, while we wait on Frank, let's eat,” Catelyn suggested.

Tension wrapped around the table as they worked hard to enjoy each other's company, but Ian watched Joseph trek to the window and look out several times. Ian followed in his footsteps, checking the street, behind the house and the apartment.

Finally, Frank arrived just as the foursome finished up the ham sandwiches and Catelyn's homemade vegetable soup. Joseph let the man in and led him to the dining room table. “Have at it.”

Frank, a balding man in his mid-fifties, adjusted his glasses and started unloading the equipment he'd brought. “What are we looking for?”

Ian spoke up. “Anything financial. Records, transactions, names of banks, whatever.”

“Piece of cake.”

Ten minutes later, Frank had his computer set up and the hard drive rigged to go through that system. Ian hovered over the man's shoulder, watching. Gina stood next to him, leaning into him a bit. His heart thumped at her nearness. How he wanted this thing finished, Gina safe and the possibility of pursuing a relationship with her a reality.

“Well, that's interesting,” Frank said.

“What?” Gina pushed in closer, trying to see the screen. Ian moved aside for her so she could.

“The hard drive's been wiped clean except for a few files.”

“What kind of files?”

The man shoved his nose closer and clicked the mouse a few more times. A bank statement appeared. “Probably the ones you're looking for.”

“What's the name of the bank?” Ian asked.

“Sparkle City National.”

Gina crossed her arms over her stomach and blew out a breath. “I didn't know he used that one. He never mentioned it.”

Frank shifted to look up at them. “Do you want to print this stuff off?”

“Not yet. Keep looking. What else do you have?”

Frank went to the next file and said, “Hey, it's a receipt.”

“For?”

“A safe-deposit box. It was scanned and saved as a picture document.”

“What's the date on it?”

Frank zoomed in to the corner that held all the information. “Um…just a little over six months ago.”

Gina leaned in closer, and Ian placed a hand on the small of her back. “Three days before he died,” she whispered.

Ian looked down at her. “He wanted you to find this.
Mario's leading us on a merry chase, but at least he's making the clues easy to find.”

She shook her head. “I don't understand why he couldn't have just told me everything in the letter.”

Ian rubbed her shoulder. “He was doing his best to keep you safe. If the bad guys had gotten their hands on you, all of this…craziness…would have bought you time. Time enough to get help, escape, whatever.”

She bit her lip and looked away. Joseph's keen eyes took in the interaction between Ian and Gina, and Ian knew her brother might have a few words to say before this was all over and done with.

Gina straightened her shoulders and tossed back her silky curls. They landed on his hand, and it was all Ian could do to resist sliding his fingers through them. He dropped his hand. Once again, it wasn't the time or the place.

He said, “Okay, so we know we need to go to Sparkle City National. It's closed today, but first thing in the morning, we need to be on their doorstep when they open.”

Gina nodded and touched the locket resting at the base of her throat. “I've got the key. Let's see what Mario was willing to die for.”

 

Gina turned over and looked at the clock. As tired as she was, she couldn't sleep, and now it was 2:00 in the morning. After Frank had been sworn to secrecy and left, Ian and Gina had brought Joseph and Catelyn up-to-date on everything.

Before she knew it, she'd fallen asleep on the couch to the sounds of Joseph and Ian hammering out a plan. She'd awakened around 1:00 a.m. to find someone had covered her with a blanket and turned all the lights off.

Grumbling at the crick in her neck, she'd scrambled off
the couch and made her way to the guest bedroom, where she'd fallen onto the bed.

Wide-awake.

An hour ago.

With her mind clicking at warp speed, trying to process everything up to this point. What were they going to do? Would tomorrow's visit to the bank answer all their questions or just stack more questions on top of the already-towering pile?

Sighing at her inability to fall back to sleep, she sat up and flung the covers from her. Padding over to the desk, she flipped on the lamp, blinking at the sudden brightness.

Why couldn't she sleep?

Because there was simply too much going on. Too many unanswered questions to let her mind shut down. She must have felt safe enough with Ian, Joseph and Catelyn right there in the room with her to allow her to fall into such a sound sleep. Now…

Something flickered in the dresser mirror.

What?

Fear darted through her and she flipped the lamp off. There it was again. The mirror sat exactly opposite the large window. Gina had pulled the curtains shut when she'd walked in the room, not able to bear the thought of someone being able to see in. Yet they were white sheers. Light passing over them would easily penetrate the thin fabric. But she was facing the back of the house, not the street side, so why was there light outside her window?

Had whoever was after her already found her? Shuddering at the thought that she might have placed Joseph and Catelyn in danger, she crept toward the window, stood to the side and gently pushed a bit of the curtain aside so she could look out.

Horror hit her as she took in the sight of the separate apartment across the drive—where Ian was staying.

Flames and smoke rolled from an open window. The only window that wasn't covered with bars, preventing any kind of escape.

 

Ian coughed and drenched himself in the shower, clothes and all. In swift, efficient movements, he wrapped sopping towels around his hands and head, then flung one over his shoulders.

The sound of shattering glass had jerked him from a restless sleep. The only reason he'd actually been able to fall asleep was the fact that Gina had such good protection inside the house across the drive.

A foot-long gas pipe had exploded when it hit the floor and rolled under the bed. Fortunately, he'd fallen asleep on the couch on the opposite wall. Otherwise he'd be dead instead of singed. Thank God there hadn't been any shrapnel or other sharp objects in the pipe, or the bomb would have caused a lot more damage. His cell phone, now fried to a crisp, had been in the middle of the bed, tossed there while Ian had showered. He'd left it there as he'd settled on the couch to study the files on Mario, wondering if he'd missed anything the first fifty times he'd looked them over.

Smoke and flames quickly filled the small efficiency apartment. Heat seared him as he'd raced for the door—only to find it barricaded shut from the outside. No amount of ramming it with his shoulder had worked, and the knob refused to turn.

So he'd soaked himself in the shower as best he could to enable him a little more time to find a way out.

The bars across the window offered no escape. The bathroom window was too tiny to wedge himself through. His best hope was to protect himself, find a way to get out the door and pray someone from the house had awakened to see what was going on.

 

Gina called 911, reported the fire, then ran down the hall yelling for Joseph.

“Joseph! The apartment's on fire! Get up! Get up! We've got to help Ian! Jos—”

Catelyn appeared in the doorway, tying the knot of her robe. “What is it?”

Then Joseph stepped around his wife looking rumpled but wide-awake, pulling a shirt on as he headed for the back door. “Stay inside! We don't know who's out there.”

Joseph yanked the door open and Gina watched him run across the drive to the burning apartment. Ignoring his order, she chased after him. Catelyn grabbed her gun and was quick on Gina's heels.

“Ian!” Gina screamed. “Ian!”

The smoke scorched her lungs but she didn't care, didn't stop. She had to get him out of there. Had to do something to help him. The thought of losing him nearly buckled her knees. She kept going until she could go no farther.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Joseph disappeared into the small attached garage that housed Ian's car. Catelyn stepped up beside Gina and curved an arm around her shoulders. “You're a target, Gina. You shouldn't be out here. Why don't you go back inside?”

Gina shrugged her off. Her heart pounded with fear and dread. “No, not until I know Ian and Joseph are okay.” She coughed and narrowed her eyes against the smoke.

Once again, Catelyn protested and Gina snapped, “What would you do if that were Joseph trapped in a burning building?”

The fact that the woman stood there as Joseph ran into the flames was answer enough. And while worry stamped itself on Catelyn's pretty features, she didn't say anything more as she reached over to grasp Gina's hand in hers.

Grateful, Gina squeezed her sister-in-law's fingers and prayed.

Fervently.

 

Ian thought his lungs were going to explode. Wet rags could only do so much against the smoke. He had to get out and get out now.

Studying the door, he latched onto an idea that might work. Pulling his knife from the pack he'd grabbed from the side of the bed before his mad dash to find the door barricaded shut, he opened it to the largest blade and went after the hinges on the door. The top one popped off with no trouble

The second one came out with a bit of a struggle. Sweat ran down his face. His whole body felt as though he were on fire, but he had no time to worry about that. And no time to go for the third hinge as dizziness consumed him. He jammed the largest blade of the knife between the door and the frame and pulled. The blade snapped.

Ian growled in frustration, then coughed until his head ached. He went back to the door, using another blade from the knife, but it was hopeless. The hinges didn't want to separate. This was an old building, built in the late 1800s, and this door was most likely the original, made of solid wood and tight hinges.

And if he didn't get it down, he was going to fry.

“Ian! You in there?”

Joseph.

“Yeah!” Ian coughed. “Kick it in!”

“It's been barricaded. Stand back!”

From his position by the wall, he heard a lot of banging that seemed to go on forever but in reality was only a few seconds. Someone probably had used a long two-by-four and some duct tape. Quick, simple, efficient and—if he didn't get out of here—deadly.

Then a well-placed kicked rocked the door. Another one did the trick. The hinges let go of each other and the door fell in. Ian glanced at the door and felt only grim satisfaction at his correct assumption. A two-by-four had been fastened horizontally from one side of the door frame to the other. The duct tape clung to the doorknob.