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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Taken (39 page)

BOOK: Taken
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“That’s what I told Nick last night,” Kayla replied.

“But I’m not sure any of us can figure it out until Evan or someone makes another move. There isn’t anything you’ve forgotten to tell me, is there?”

“No, I swear, you know it all now. No more secrets.”

Kayla gave her grandmother a sharp look but saw nothing except clear honesty in her eyes. “Good.”

“I’m ready,” Nick said as he came back into the room.

He smelled like toothpaste, and his hair and face were damp.

Kayla thought he was just about the sexiest man she’d ever met in her life, but she could hardly tell him that with her grandmother standing right next to her.

“I’ll get the car, pull it up front,” Nick said, walking out the front door.

Kayla glanced over at her grandmother and caught her staring at her with an odd smile on her face. “What?”

“You’re in love with Nick.”

“No, I’m not,” she said automatically.

“Okay,” her grandmother said easily.

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“I’m not,” she repeated, because it was obvious Charlotte didn’t believe her.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

“Sometimes you can be really annoying, Grandma.”

Charlotte simply smiled.

“All right, I like him — a lot — but I don’t know about the rest of it, and I certainly don’t know how he feels.

Nick just wants to find Evan, get his money back, and keep his family safe.”

“And he wants you,” Charlotte said.

“Do you think so?” she couldn’t help asking.

“I do, Kayla.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes in the love department.”

“So this time you’ll get it right.”

The sound of the car horn cut off their conversation.

Nick was waiting. They had things to do, people to see.

Her love life would have to wait.

After a lengthy visit at the doctor’s office, they returned to Charlotte’s condo. While her grandmother rested per her doctor’s instructions, Kayla made lunch and Nick studied their puzzle. They had just finished eating when Charlotte’s neighbor, Bernice, knocked on the door.

“Look who’s here, Kayla,” Charlotte said, greeting her friend with a hug.

“Hi Bernice,” Kayla said.

“Well, it’s good to see you up and about, Charlotte, looking like nothing ever happened,” Bernice said. “I was so worried.”

“Thanks to your quick thinking she got the treatment she needed right away,” Kayla said.

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“I want to say thank-you, too,” Charlotte added.

“Kayla told me you got me to the hospital.”

Bernice dismissed her thanks with a wave of her hand.

“It was nothing. But you do owe me a card game.” She cleared her throat, darting a quick look in Kayla’s direction. “Some of the other girls were thinking of coming over and playing bridge, but only if you’re up to it.”

“I think I could play a few hands,” Charlotte said.

“You don’t mind, do you, Kayla? You and Nick have been babysitting me long enough. And I’m sure you have other things to do.”

“If you’re certain you’ll be all right, Grandma.”

“I’ll be fine. Call me later and tell me if you find out anything. Bernice and the girls will be here. Why don’t you come in to the kitchen with me?” she said to Bernice.

“We can make some tea.”

As Kayla returned to the living room, she heard Nick talking on his cell phone. He was pacing, a restless light in his eyes.

“Keep me posted,” he said, then hung up the phone.

“Who was that?”

“J.T. I filled him in on everything about your grandmother and Dominic’s watch.”

“Good. Did he have any news?”

“He spoke to Delores Ricci last night. She told him that the family always believed that their father’s death was suspicious, but they never had any proof. She had no idea what happened to her father’s watch. I’m sure she would be shocked to know your grandmother had it until now.”

“What else?” she asked.

“Will, Evan’s old buddy, disappeared the day after we were there. The landlord said he moved out, no forward-346

Barbara Freethy

ing address. I’m sure Evan didn’t want him talking to anyone else. And J.T. said that they found fingerprints at Lisa Palmer’s house but no match to anyone in the data-base. Of course, Evan is too smart to leave prints behind.”

“Okay. That’s all interesting, but you look far more excited than any of those facts should warrant. Why?”

He motioned her over to the dining room table. He pulled out three slips of paper and set them in a line.

“I’ve been thinking about our pieces, Kayla, and how they fit together. Yesterday when I talked to J.T. he told me about a conversation he had with Helen Matthews.”

He pointed to the piece of paper where he’d written her name. “She’s the woman who knew Frankie way back when. She told J.T. that Frankie was a cheapshake and he liked to hoard things. She couldn’t imagine that he’d given that watch to anyone.”

Kayla stared at him, trying to follow his train of thought. “So you think Frankie kept the watch. If that’s true, we still don’t know what happened to it.”

“We know what happened to Frankie,” Nick said. “He went to . . .” Nick pointed to the second piece of paper.

“Alcatraz,” she finished.

“Exactly, which is where we’re going.”

For some reason the idea made her uneasy. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said. “And our timing is perfect. Remember that former guard . . . ?” He pointed to the third piece of paper, on which he’d written the title of a book,
Tales
from the Rock.
“The author is signing copies today,” Nick added.

“That’s right. I forgot about that.”

“I remembered when Dana mentioned yesterday that
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Joel had come by her place to interview her. If this guard knew about her, what else did he know?”

“But he never spoke to my grandmother,” Kayla interjected. “I wonder why not.”

“Maybe Johnny didn’t talk about Charlotte. But the point is that this Joel knows something about the men and perhaps about the robbery. He might also be able to tell us if Frankie went to Alcatraz with a pocket watch. I think the answers are on that island, Kayla. It would be interesting to find out what happened to any personal posses-sions the men may have brought with them.”

“I agree,” she said, beginning to share his excitement.

“The pieces are falling into place. My plan worked.”

“It did help to lay it all out.” Nick glanced at a wall clock. “We should go. I reserved tickets for the three-o’clock ferry. We have just enough time to stop by our houses, change clothes, and get down to the pier. What about your grandmother?”

“Her friend Bernice is here. We can go,” Kayla said, feeling suddenly energetic. Nick’s positive mood was in-fectious. Maybe they were about to get the break they desperately needed.

An hour later, Nick turned into the parking lot across from Fisherman’s Wharf. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the week, a large crowd of tourists was strolling along the wharf. Kayla tended to avoid this part of town. The restaurant and shop prices were set for tourists, and it was usually difficult to find parking, but she had to admit that the festive atmosphere made her wish they had time to take a walk. She hadn’t eaten clam chowder on the wharf in years.

Nick wasn’t paying any attention to the sidewalk en-348

Barbara Freethy

tertainers juggling balls, playing guitars, or walking on stilts. He was a man on a mission. Once they’d picked up their tickets, he led her straight to the ferry. After they’d boarded the boat, she pulled her hand out of his with a wince.

He saw her expression and frowned. “Sorry.”

“I appreciate the protective sentiment, but you have a really strong grip, and I need these fingers for my work.”

“Point taken.” His gaze swept the bottom level of the ferry before he nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s go up to the top deck. We can get a good view of the wharf and see who else is on the boat.”

The top deck was already filling up with tourists. They snagged a spot by the rail and stood quietly together for a few moments, listening to the conversations around them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She hoped that meant nothing
was
out of the ordinary. Taking a band from her purse, Kayla pulled her hair into a loose bun. It was already breezy and would get windier when they were out on the bay. Nick frowned at her action.

“I like it better when you leave your hair down,” he said.

“The wind blows it in my face. This is more practical.”

She had to fight the urge to take her hair down and watch his reaction. She had a feeling it would be worth a little hair in her face.

“I like it better when you’re not being practical,” he said with a rueful smile.

“I do, too,” she heard herself confess. “But I’m trying to focus on the business at hand, so stop trying to distract me.”

She turned away from Nick as the ferry began to maneuver out of the harbor. As they passed Pier 39, their de-TA K E N

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parture was greeted by a loud, barking chorus performed by the hundreds of sea lions lounging in the sun on wooden pallets. Sometime in the past couple of years the sea lions had become a tourist attraction, and even now there were dozens of people lined up to take photos of the playful lions.

Once they were out of the harbor, they turned toward the Golden Gate Bridge, lit up by the afternoon sun. A cruise ship sailed under the bridge, probably heading for a port on the east side of the bay. Looking at the turbulent waves, Kayla couldn’t help thinking about the past. “I wonder if Johnny and Nate could really have survived a swim across this bay,” she said.

“They were young men risking their lives for freedom.

I’m sure their will was strong.”

“True. Sometimes it’s amazing what you can get if you want it bad enough.”

“That’s what dreams are built on — desire. Take that beautiful bridge over there. Do you know what it took to build it?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“When I was in school I had to do a complete study of that bridge — the history, the planning, the execution. The builders were fearless, climbing like untethered monkeys some seven hundred and fifty feet above the water. All they had was a safety net, and even that didn’t stop eleven people from dying during the construction. But they kept building. And in the end, they created one of the most famous bridges in the world.”

She smiled at the passion in his voice. “Tell me more.”

He grinned back at her. “I’m boring you.”

“Not at all. I’d love to see you in action, climbing like . . . What was it you said? An untethered monkey?”

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“Would it impress you if I said I did that?”

“I think it would. It’s very sexy. Not the monkey part, but the daredevil-skywalker part.”

“Really?” he murmured against her ear. “Maybe I should tell you more about my adventures in bridge building.” He ran his tongue along the edge of her ear.

Her spine tingled, and she couldn’t stop the shiver that raised goose bumps along her arms. She cleared her throat. “Nick, behave yourself. We’re on a boat.”

“Is that why I feel off balance?”

“I wish I could use that as an excuse, but I can’t. It’s you.”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “No, I think it’s you, Kayla.”

Her nerves tingled at his words, at his expression, which spoke of the same yearning she felt deep within her soul. He got to her, plain and simple — only there was nothing simple about it. He was complicating her already messy and crazy life, making her feel things she’d never felt before.

The boat suddenly hit something solid, and Kayla stumbled into Nick’s arms. “What was that?”

“I think we’ve landed,” he said, stealing a quick kiss.

She suddenly realized the island was right next to them. She’d been so caught up in Nick, she hadn’t even noticed that they were docking.

They descended to the lower level with the rest of the passengers. Once they got off the boat, they paused to get their bearings. Alcatraz, often called the Rock because of its rocky formation in the middle of the bay, had originally been a military base, and near the pier were the old barracks from those early days. After pausing for a few minutes to listen to the park ranger’s historical presenta-TA K E N

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tion, they decided to walk up to the prison, situated at the top of a long, steep hill.

Although she had been born and raised in San Francisco, Kayla had never actually set foot on the Island.

She’d been sick the one time her school had taken a field trip to the prison, and neither her mother nor father had ever been interested in taking the tour. When they reached the top of the hill, she and Nick ventured across the large courtyard to stand on the far side, gazing at the amazing scene before them.

“They say it’s the best view in the city,” Nick murmured.

He was right. The city of San Francisco, with its beautiful shoreline, hilly streets, and tall, sweeping skyscrap-ers, was spread out before them like a photograph on a perfect postcard.

“The view taunted the prisoners,” Nick added. “They could see paradise, but they couldn’t get to it.”

“That almost seems like cruel and unusual punish-ment.”

“I’m sure it made the idea of escape seem very appealing.”

Kayla nodded and turned back to look at the prison.

The cell house was a massive stone structure, gray and intimidating. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go inside.

“There’s our guy,” Nick said, drawing her attention to the man signing books near the prison entrance. “Let’s get in line so we can talk to him.”

“What exactly are we going to say?” she asked as they waited.

“Why don’t we start with the fact that you’re Johnny’s granddaughter? That information ought to get his attention.”

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She frowned at that thought. “I’m not sure I want to tell him that. I’m not sure I want to tell anyone. You’re asking me to rewrite my personal history in a very public way and attach myself to a notorious criminal. Maybe I want to leave Johnny as a skeleton in my closet that no one knows about.”

BOOK: Taken
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