Twin Peril (9 page)

Jonah glanced at his watch. Where was Mallory? She should be back by now. How long did it take to buy a few articles of clothing?

He was tempted to go out looking for her, but an article caught his eyes in his search list as he scrolled down a few.

Missing Model: Runaway? Or Foul Play?

Missing? His gut knotted as he clicked on the link. The date on the article was just a month ago. Right about the time Mallory claimed she and Anthony Caruso had started dating.

He leaned forward and began to read.

Claire Richmond had everything going for her: a million-dollar contract with Sports International and a powerful, handsome state senator as an escort. But less than two months after her breakup with Anthony Caruso, Claire Richmond disappeared. Her friends say she was heartbroken when Anthony broke off their relationship, despite the way she’d always put on a brave front. But she failed to show up for a photo shoot and was reported missing.

Now that she’s been gone more than five weeks, the police are starting to wonder if Claire Richmond ran away from the spotlight and the endless questions about her broken relationship with the senator, or if her disappearance is the result of foul play.

The small hairs on the back of his neck lifted as he read the article twice, making sure he didn’t miss anything.

This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be here,” Mallory said, as she came into the lobby.

He turned to look at her, noting she was wearing fresh clothes. The bright orange T-shirt and jeans were nothing fancy, but Mallory was beautiful no matter what she wore.

“I was getting worried,” he admitted slowly.

“Silly. I was perfectly fine.” She frowned as she glanced over his shoulder at the computer screen. “Who’s that?”

For a split second, he considered not sharing what he’d found. But he’d asked for her trust, so he needed to offer the same. “You’d better sit down, Mallory.”

The color drained from her cheeks.

He glanced over to make sure the clerk wasn’t paying attention. Thankfully, she was on the phone taking a reservation. “This woman is Claire Richmond, a young model who happened to be dumped by Anthony Caruso just a few months ago. She’s been missing for the past five weeks.”

Mallory stared at the photo in shock. He waited as she quickly scanned the article.

He put his hand on hers. “Mallory, I think Caruso had something to do with her disappearance.”

Mallory turned toward Jonah and opened her mouth to speak just as she began to faint.

SEVEN

J
onah reached out and caught Mallory, lowering her into the chair beside him. “She looks like me,” she whispered.

“Not really,” he murmured reassuringly, although he couldn’t deny there was a resemblance. “This other woman only slightly looks like you. And that doesn’t mean anything other than Caruso obviously prefers to date beautiful blondes.”

Her gaze remained troubled. “I don’t understand. Do you think it’s possible she stumbled across proof that Anthony was involved in something illegal, just like I did?”

“I don’t know,” Jonah admitted. “If that’s true, it doesn’t make sense that he’d wait almost two months after the breakup to get rid of her.” He looked up Claire Richmond’s last known address and then deleted the cache before he shut down the computer. “Come on, we need to get back to our rooms.”

He put a supporting arm around her waist as they headed outside. Mallory walked beside him as if she were lost in a fog, her gaze unfocused and her breathing shallow. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about Claire Richmond.

He unlocked the door to his room and she immediately sank into the closest seat. After unlocking the connecting door between their rooms, he hesitated in the doorway and glanced back at her. “You did buy the disposable cell phone, right?”

She nodded. Turning his attention back to her room, he spied the bags sitting on her bed, the disposable phone sitting right on top. He grabbed the phone and returned to his room. Using the phone-book map, he pinpointed Claire’s address.

“Who are you calling?” Mallory asked. Her voice was stronger and she looked a little less as if she was going to throw up. He was reminded again how Mallory was much stronger than she looked.

“The Chicago P.D. I’m going to find out what district is handling Claire’s case and then I’m going to chat with the detective in charge.”

She shook her head slowly. “You really think her disappearance is related to the Jefferson Project?”

“Claire’s disappearance might not be related directly to the Jefferson Project per se, but I do think Caruso had something to do with it. For all we know, he’s involved with other illegal ventures. Claire could have stumbled across something incriminating, like you said.” Or simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He stared down at the map of the city, where he’d made a star at the point of her address. “I just can’t believe her disappearance is a coincidence. And since our leads are few and far between, I think we need to probe further.”

“But the article didn’t say anything about Caruso being a suspect,” Mallory argued.

“No, it didn’t, which is why I want to talk to the detective in charge. Could be that Caruso’s a person of interest in the case but that they don’t have any evidence against him. Or that he has some sort of ironclad alibi.” Depressing thought, but highly likely—Caruso wasn’t the type to do his own dirty work. Hadn’t he proved that by sending thugs after Mallory? He flipped open the phone and dialed.

It took him almost ten minutes of being transferred from one department to the next before he finally reached Detective Nick Butler.

“Detective Butler? My name is Detective Jonah Stewart and I work in Milwaukee’s district six. We have a missing-person case here, a woman by the name of Mallory Roth. She’s a young blonde who happened to be dating Senator Caruso just before she disappeared. I noticed you have a similar case involving the disappearance of Claire Richmond, so I wanted to talk to you in person.”

“Stewart?” Jonah could hear computer keys tapping in the background. “What’s your badge number?”

Jonah rattled it off, even though the last thing he wanted was for Butler to call and validate his identity with Finley. “Look, before you call the district to prove I really am MPD, you need to know my life is in danger. At the moment, I’m working off-grid.”

There was a short pause. “How quickly can you get to Chicago?” Butler asked.

“Forty minutes.”

Butler wisely didn’t bother asking for specifics about his location. “Okay, let’s say we meet in an hour at the coffee shop across the street from my district. I won’t make any calls yet but make sure you bring your badge.”

“An hour,” he repeated. “Thanks. I really appreciate this.” He shut the phone with a satisfied snap.

“Did you have to give him my name?” Mallory asked with a frown. “I mean, don’t you think it’s going to make us look bad when we meet him?”

He slowly turned to face her, knowing she wasn’t going to like what he was planning. “You’re not coming, Mallory. The only way I can pull this off is if I convince Butler that I’m investigating a missing person whose disappearance could be linked to his case. I need him to share what he knows, cop to cop, and I’ll have to give him some information in return while pretending I haven’t found you yet.”

Her gaze narrowed. “An hour ago, you didn’t want me to go shopping alone, but now you’re just going to ride off to Chicago by yourself?”

He went over to kneel beside her chair so they were at eye level. “Mallory, I know you’re upset, and if I could bring you along, I would. But this is important. We need whatever information Butler has about Caruso.”

“And what if he doesn’t have any information? This could be nothing more than a wild-goose chase.”

“It’s possible, but I think the Chicago P.D. has at least considered him a suspect at one point or another. So I can guarantee this trip won’t be a waste of time. Just stay here and stay safe, okay? Please? For me?”

She let out her breath in a heavy sigh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, right?”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms in a quick hug. Once he realized he’d crossed the line, he hastily let her go and stood. “Don’t open the door to anyone but me,” he said as he grabbed his helmet and keys.

He avoided her gaze, leaving the motel room before she could say anything more. He jammed his helmet onto his head, telling himself he was an idiot.

He couldn’t afford to get close to Mallory on an emotional level.

But he was beginning to fear that he already had.

* * *

Mallory imagined she could still smell Jonah’s scent clinging to her new T-shirt long after he was gone.

She buried her face in her hands. She’d wanted to stay in his arms, to revel in his tender strength. Tears pricked her eyes and the small sign of weakness was enough to spur her into action.

She bounded to her feet. She would not cry over a man. Any man. Even one as nice as Jonah.

Returning to her room, she busied herself with unpacking the rest of the items she’d purchased, putting everything away.

Except for the second disposable cell phone.

Refusing to feel guilty for not telling Jonah she’d purchased two—after all, she’d used her own money for the second phone—she sat on the edge of her bed and began to dial Alyssa’s number. Alyssa must have replaced her phone by now. She left a message, hoping Alyssa would get it.

Unfortunately, Mallory didn’t know Gage’s number by memory.

She hated not knowing what was going on with her twin. Was Alyssa all finished with surgery? Had everything gone well? She and Jonah had spent so much time running away from danger she’d barely had time to think about Alyssa.

After jumping to her feet, Mallory began to pace. She wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing while she waited for Jonah. There had to be something she could do to help.

Maybe she should try to remember more details about the night of the charity event at the Pfister Hotel. If only she knew more about the people Caruso spoke to on a regular basis. But he didn’t have a lot of family, his parents were dead, and he was divorced from his first wife and didn’t have kids. Or so he claimed.

Wait a minute, what about his first wife? Was it possible she knew something? And if so, was she still in the Chicago area?

Mallory headed back to the lobby but there was a short, balding man seated at the computer, printing his airline boarding pass. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. When he finally finished, she swooped in on the computer.

She found searching for people’s names online wasn’t as easy as Jonah made it look. But after fifteen minutes, she found the full name of Anthony’s first wife—
Rachel Camille Simon, a thirty-six-year-old blonde who just happened to be the heiress to the Simon estate. Her father was George Simon, the founder of the Simon Corporation, which had several diverse interests from pharmaceuticals to insurance.

Further searching revealed Rachel Camille Simon was following in her father’s footsteps, working her way up in the company. Her pulse skipped with excitement when she realized the Simon headquarters was only about twenty minutes from the motel.

She wanted to talk to Anthony’s first wife, but the woman was second in command at a multibillion-dollar corporation. What was she going to do, waltz in and demand to speak directly to Rachel? She’d be lucky to get two steps into the building before the security guards hauled her out of there, kicking and screaming. No, she needed to figure out a way to contact Rachel first and somehow convince the woman to at least talk to her. But how?

She went back to her room, called the general number for the Simon Corporation and asked to speak to Rachel Simon’s assistant. “And what is the nature of your call?” the woman asked.

“I’m sorry, but it’s personal.”

There was a long pause, and Mallory was afraid the woman was going to refuse to put her through, but then the next thing she knew another woman was answering the phone. “Good afternoon, Edith Goodman speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“Ms. Goodman, my name is Mallory Roth and I need to speak to Ms. Simon about a personal matter that involves her ex-husband, Senator Caruso.”

“I’m sorry, but Ms. Simon doesn’t speak to reporters.” The woman’s friendly tone had cooled considerably.

“Wait! Don’t hang up. I promise I’m not a reporter. I’m from Milwaukee, and I’m in danger. I believe her ex-husband is trying to kill me.”

This time, the pause was even longer. Mallory figured it was a fifty-fifty chance that she’d be passed off as some kook or put through to Rachel’s office. Finally Edith said, “I’ll take your name and number and let Ms. Simon decide whether or not she’ll call you back.”

The answer was better than what she’d hoped for. She quickly rattled off her name and her new cell-phone number. “Thank you, Ms. Goodman, very much.”

Mallory sighed and stared down at the phone in her hand. In truth, contacting Caruso’s first wife was a total long shot. For all she knew, Caruso hadn’t even gone down the path of corruption until after his divorce. Rachel might tell her she was crazy to believe her
ex-husband would hurt a fly.

She tossed the phone on the bed and raked her fingers through her hair. How long had Jonah been gone? She checked the small alarm clock and winced. Not long. He wouldn’t be back for hours yet.

She turned on the television, switching channels until she found the news. When her phone rang twenty minutes later, she was so startled she almost fell off the bed.

Her heart pounding, she grabbed the phone and flipped it open. On the screen she could see the caller was using a blocked number. Hesitantly, she answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Mallory Roth?” a female voice asked.

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and pumped her hand in the air. Caruso’s ex had returned her call! “Thank you so much for calling me back, Ms. Simon. I know you’re very busy, but I desperately need to talk to you.”