Chapter 122
"I'd be glad to accept a challenge. Anytime. Anywhere." Rachel couldn't believe how brazen she was being with someone she barely knew. She'd never been much of a flirt, and she'd never been promiscuous, but there was something about Shane Quincy that made her want to throw up her hands and say, "To h.e.l.l with it." Despite her father's notoriety, she'd lived a pretty sheltered life. Boyfriends had been few and screened carefully. Her roommate from college had been hand picked, and every tenant in her apartment building had had a thorough background check.
"Be careful. I never back away from a challenge," he said softly.
The intensity and heat in his stare was enough to bring a blush to her cheeks, and she looked everywhere but at him with a newfound purpose. "It doesn't look like we have a lot to choose from."
"We don't need anything fancy. Just something that will get us part of the way to Chicago."
Rachel watched as Shane looked in the windows of a beat up pickup truck. It was parked at the mouth of a bayou next to an old wooden dock. "We don't need to go to Chicago. We need to go to Dallas."
"Wait. Rewind," Shane said as he looked up from his task of hotwiring the truck. "Why do we need to go to Dallas? I thought the list was in a safety deposit box in Chicago."
The truck started with a sputtering cough and Shane threw in his duffle bag and practically tossed her into the cab.
"Why are we taking this? It won't do us any good if we break down on the side of the highway."
"Listen to the purr of that engine, Sugar. People down here drive older cars but they keep them in top shape. It wouldn't do them any good to try and evacuate for a hurricane and not be able to get their cars started. And we're taking this particular truck because the owner is obviously busy checking his traps for the day. Trappers don't usually come in until the afternoon, so it should give us plenty of time to get a head start."
"Oh," Rachel said.
"Now tell me why we're going to Dallas when the copy of the list is in Chicago."
Rachel bristled a little at the demand, but kept her mouth shut. She'd never been one for taking orders. "I work at a large interior design firm in Chicago. Worked," she clarified. It had broken her heart to give up the job she'd fought so hard for. Sacrificed for. "Dad called me on my cell at the office that last day. I was busy with client meetings, so I didn't give him as much time as I should have. As I wish now I had. He was excited and told me everything was going to work out just fine, and that Uncle Angelo would take care of me if anything went wrong. Dad was scheduled to meet with Agent Culver like I told you, and then give his deposition. I wished him luck, told him I loved him and hung up. I didn't give it another thought until I was told he was missing."
Rachel's voice cracked on a sob, but she pulled herself together. She hated to show any weakness. Especially in front of a stranger. Valentines did not cry. Her father always told her their enemies would constantly look for vulnerabilities, c.h.i.n.ks in their armor. So she'd stood dry-eyed next to her father at the funerals of her mother and sister, though she'd been dying on the inside. If she could hold it together then, she could sure as h.e.l.l hold it together in front of Shane Quincy.
Rachel took a few minutes to gather her composure and was thankful Shane stayed silent. The rain had picked up and was coming down in blinding sheets, but Shane handled the truck smoothly, focused on the road ahead. She hadn't seen him lose that focus in any of the situations that had been thrown at them so far.
She spoke softer as she continued. "Just as I was packing my things away for the day a Fed-Ex package landed on my desk. Someone at the front desk had signed for it and sent it up. Since it was sent to me at work I figured it was work related and shoved it into my briefcase. I didn't give it another thought until I unlocked the front door of my apartment."
"Let me guess," Shane said. "Someone had searched your apartment."
"Searched is too kind a word for what they did. They violated every inch of every s.p.a.ce. Drawers were upended and furniture had been slashed to ribbons. My desktop was smashed to pieces on the floor and my laptop was gone. I took one look at the mess, turned around and got out of there."
"You're lucky you didn't run into the person responsible."
"Believe me, I know. I found out later that night on the news that my doorman's body had been found in the alley with multiple gunshot wounds."
"What did you do?"
"I took a taxi to the South Side and stayed in a dirt cheap motel until the next morning. I didn't sleep a wink that night and jumped at every sound. When I opened the package that had been sent to me, I knew I held the power to destroy a lot of people's lives. I think my father knew he probably wouldn't live to see all the wrongs made right, so it's up to me now."
"That's a lot of pressure to put on someone you love," Shane said skeptically.
"My father was a good man," Rachel insisted vehemently. "He'd want me to do the right thing."
"So why are you in Louisiana instead of testifying before a grand jury, and how do you know that your father told Angelo he gave you a copy of the list?"
This guy was a hard nut to crack. It was a good thing Rachel wasn't looking for sympathy, because she felt sure he didn't possess the emotion. Her voice frosted over and was hard as ice when she continued.
"Because the police discovered a message when they found my doorman's body in the alley. Angelo's men had carved a warning into the poor man's chest, demanding that I turn over the list or I'd be next. A news camera got it on film, and I saw the whole thing with the rest of the world on the ten o'clock news. The next morning I borrowed a car from the lot of the motel I was staying at and drove back to Chicago."
"When you say borrowed, I take it you mean stole."
"Are you going to let me finished the story or not?"
"By all means," he said.
"I was at my bank just as they were opening, and I told the clerk I needed to put some things in my safety deposit box. My father made sure I was prepared in case something like this happened, so I removed a duffle bag from the box similar to the one you carry. It was full of cash and ID's, an extra set of clothes and a couple of wigs. I made a copy of the papers and put the originals in the safety deposit box. I changed clothes and hair in the restroom and walked out the front door without anyone noticing."
"I can put two and two together and a.s.sume you sent the copies of the papers you made to someone in Dallas. But that still doesn't answer my question. How are you supposed to turn this evidence over to the FBI if you're running away?"
Rachel looked at Shane and wondered not for the first time if she was getting more with him than she'd bargained for. She was out
Shane noticed the sudden fear in her eyes but stayed silent, quietly driving the stolen truck along rutted and muddy paths. They'd be in Texas before they hit a highway that wouldn't jar teeth or spew mud onto pa.s.sing cars.
"You're not going to get rid of me so easy now," Shane said. "Whoever's after you could have burned down my house and they destroyed my business. I'm in this for the long haul, so you might as well stay on for the ride."
The quick show of fear she'd displayed disappeared. Shane felt her cool stare and the calculating gaze of her weighing the odds of putting her safety in his hands. He kept his grip relaxed over the steering wheel and waited for her to make up her mind.
"Fine, but I prefer to treat this as a business relations.h.i.+p."
His curse was short and obscene, but she wasn't rattled.
"Hear me out," she said. "I don't like being out of control, and I've never had much faith in my fellow man. In my world people don't just do things for others out of the goodness of their hearts. But money, honor and pride are always important. Especially in my family. So it makes sense to hire you and your agency to track down the list and protect me when I hand it over to the FBI. There's no reason I'd have to testify. I have no knowledge of any business dealings my father had going and don't care to. We'd have a binding contract until I feel I'm in no further danger. And if you do happen to be working for my Uncle Angelo, just know that what I plan to pay you for your services will be far more than anything he could ever dream to offer you. Uncle Angelo doesn't hold the strings to the Valentine bank accounts since my father's disappearance. I do."
Shane clenched his jaw and the throbbing pulse in his neck told him just how p.i.s.sed off her proposal made him. He'd been through horrors she could never dream of, serving and protecting his country while watching his friends die. Did she think he knew nothing of honor? Of pride? But then he closed himself off to his anger and a.n.a.lyzed the real reason for being so upset, just as he'd been taught to do in the Marines. Yes, he was offended that Rachel didn't trust him more, but he could hardly blame her for that when he hadn't trusted anyone but himself in the last two years.
The problem was that he wanted her. All of her. He wanted to know everything about her. What made her tick and what made her laugh. And how her body would feel wrapped around his in the middle of the night. And if she paid him for his services, then his pride and honor would be at stake. Two things he'd never been able to compromise. Which meant that Rachel Valentine was off limits.
"Fine," he agreed. "But you'll have to be satisfied with a verbal agreement. Organization at my office is a little spotty right now."
CHAPTER FOUR.
Rachel breathed easier for the rest of the trip into Dallas. She'd found comfort in Shane's anger. She needed a clear head now more than ever, and keeping Shane Quincy and his scorching kisses at arms length was exactly what she needed to get through this ordeal with a clear head and an unbroken heart.
The rain had disappeared as soon as they'd crossed the border into Texas, and the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly despite the briskness in the air. They'd stopped at Wal-Mart just before lunch, and Shane had run in and grabbed her some clothes and a pair of shoes. She'd changed in the cab of the truck while Shane had switched license plates with the car next to them.
"So where are we going to get the list?" he finally asked. "Did you send it to a friend down here?"
"No, I sent it to a lawyer who tried to prosecute Dad several years ago. I figured it would be safe in his hands. He's stuck with client privilege since I pay him a retainer. I think it would be best for both of us if we could get the list without having to go to Chicago. Angelo has eyes and ears everywhere, and they'll know the moment I step foot into the city."
Shane knew she spoke the truth. The farther they could stay from Chicago, the safer they'd be. "It was a smart plan. Very smart," Shane acknowledged. "I've got a couple of pay as you go cell phones in the bag. Grab one and give the man a call. Let him know we're coming to see him."
Rachel's own cell phone was still back in her apartment, so she had to call directory a.s.sistance to get his number. She wished now she would have thought to grab it before Shane had thrown her out the window. It had all her important contact information in it.
She waited patiently for the operator to connect her to the law offices of Decker and Marsh. It was just after three o'clock in the afternoon, and she hoped she'd be able to catch him in his office.
"Decker and Marsh," a perky receptionist answered. "How may I help you?"
"I need to speak with Galen Marsh. It's urgent."
"Mr. Marsh isn't taking calls right now. Can I take a message?"
"This is Rachel Valentine. I believe Mr. Marsh will take time to speak with me." Rachel heard a rustle of papers over the line and a few whispered voices. It must have been a new girl in the office.
"Hold please," the perky voice said.
Easy listening music came over the line, and she waited less than a minute before her attorney answered the phone.
"Rachel," Galen Marsh said, his voice cracking. "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you in months."
Something was wrong. It was impossible to ignore the nervousness in his voice. Galen Marsh hadn't been thrilled when she'd "put him on her payroll" as he liked to call it. He never let an opportunity pa.s.s to remind her where she came from and that he thought no more of her than he had of her father. In Galen Marsh's eyes, anyone with the last name of Valentine should be locked behind bars. But it hadn't stopped him from taking her money. And despite his personal feelings about her family, she knew he wouldn't compromise his career by betraying her trust. It was just like she'd explained to Shane. Money talked, and there was such a thing as honor among thieves.
"What's going on, Galen?" Rachel asked, cutting right to the chase.
He sighed over the other end of the line, and she could imagine him s.h.i.+fting his considerable bulk behind the polished wood of his antique desk and reclining back in his chair. No doubt if he could have lifted his feet from the floor to the desk, they'd be propped there.
"You've got quite a few of your people looking for you, Rachel," he finally said.
"What do you mean, my people?"
"Your family. They seemed worried about you. Wanted me to let them know where to find you."
"You didn't tell them, did you?" she asked, panic evident in her voice.
"Of course not. Anyway, it's not like you've been keeping me up to date where you've been hiding."
"What's the problem then, Galen? And keep the lawyer speak to a minimum. Just the truth in a hundred words or less."
"It's just that they somehow found out that you've hired me." His voice had turned whiny and it was everything Rachel could do not to cringe at the petulant tone in his voice.
"And that bothers you because if they were able to find out I'm a client, then others might be able to find out as well. Am I right?"
"It's true I'd have preferred to keep our business relations.h.i.+p quiet. It won't make my other clients feel too comfortable when they're told that known criminals keep me on the payroll."
Rachel's voice turned icy and she wished she could have reached through the phone to strangle the pompous man on the other end. "As far as I know, Mr. Marsh, your clients don't include any criminals, known or otherwise. Make sure you relay the message. Am I clear?"
"Sure, sure," he said. "I just don't want any trouble. Your relatives make quite a statement, and I've got a family to think about."
"Just do your job and keep telling them you don't know anything," Rachel said.
"I don't know anything. Maybe you feel like enlightening me."
Rachel softened her voice and tried her best to add a little charm, but sometimes even she couldn't work miracles. "If you play your cards right, Mr. Marsh, you're going to be one of the most famous attorneys in the United States. I can guarantee you that much."
He laughed indulgently. "And how do you plan to pull that off, Ms. Valentine? You're father's as good as dead, so there's not much of a chance for me to put him behind bars where he belongs."
Rachel gritted her teeth and held back all the vile thoughts that came to her mind every time her attorney opened his mouth. "No, but you might have heard my uncle is controlling certain areas of the business now."
"Sure, but everyone knows it's only a matter of time before he's taken out. He doesn't have the charisma that Dom had. Word is there've been a few problems on the inside."
"Could be. I don't keep up with the family business. I have bigger fish to fry. Like catching the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who took my father before he was able to testify."
"Yeah, it's a d.a.m.n shame they couldn't have gotten him after he spilled the information on all his rivals. It would have been a h.e.l.l of a coup for the Justice Department. A victory all around."
"Exactly," Rachel said, hating the man more with every word that came out of his mouth. "I sent you a certified letter and a package several months ago with instructions to keep the package in a safe place and never open it. Do you have the package close by?"
"What's in that package, Rachel?"
"Do you have it close by?" she repeated.
"Yeah, it's in my office safe with all my own personal papers."
"Good. I need that package today. We're about half an hour from your office. I'll swing by and get it."
"No, I don't want you coming here. There have been too many people asking about you lately. I've already told them I don't know anything, but I'd hate to think of what they'd do to me if they thought I'd been lying all this time. The office closes at five. Meet me in the parking garage across the street at five thirty. I'll bring the package as long as you promise to find another attorney when this is all over. I'm too close to retirement to have to worry about looking over my shoulder every time a Valentine comes in to town."
Rachel was silent for a few seconds. She wanted to demand he put the package in her hand now, but there was no reason not to wait and play things his way. She wasn't completely heartless, and she did understand his reasons for wanting to stay clear of her.
"Five-thirty, Mr. Marsh," she finally agreed. "And I'm sure I don't have to remind you not to tell anyone of our conversation."
Rachel hung up and turned in her seat to look at Shane. She hadn't even noticed he'd parked the truck in an abandoned parking lot just off the highway.
"I take it there's no love lost between you and your attorney," he said with a smile.
"You could say that." Rachel hadn't realized how much tension had gathered in her shoulders once she'd heard the sound of Galen Marsh's voice. She slowly exhaled and stretched her sore muscles.
"He won't give us the package until office hours are over," she said to fill the empty silence as Shane's gaze never left her. The pulse at the base of her throat began to flutter and her palms started to sweat. The man made her more nervous than anyone she'd ever met, and considering some of the people she'd known in her lifetime, that was saying something.
"Well, I guess we'll have to find something to do to fill the time," he finally said.
Unfortunately, that's what she was afraid of.
What Rachel hadn't expected was a trip to the zoo.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hot Shot Investigator, but I was under the impression we were running for our lives. Not taking a vacation."
Shane pulled a black ball cap out of his bag and put it on, along with a pair of dark sungla.s.ses. "Has anyone ever told you that you need to have a little faith sometimes?"
"No, and if you'd come from my family you wouldn't have faith in anyone or anything other than yourself either."