To Die For

Donna, his ex-wife, was meeting him at the house. His youngest daughter, Rachel, had finally agreed to stay with him for the weekend, and he'd very nearly f.u.c.ked it all up. If Donna hadn't called to make sure he was going to be home, he would have forgotten about the arrangement they agreed to months ago.

He had too much on his mind. Every mistake, every mishap, every s.h.i.+t part of his life could be directed at Coffey and the rookie's inability to disappear.

Up ahead, the yellow light turned red. He hit the gas. Horns blared as he cut off oncoming traffic. f.u.c.k. After everything he'd been through, he was going to get himself killed trying to get home in time to impress his ex-wife. He shouldn't care what Donna thought. He had a beautiful, young wife now, but that hadn't stopped him from thinking about Donna every second of every day since she left him. Donna was at the forefront of his mind even though she didn't give a rat's a.s.s about him one way or another.

Driving too fast through the residential area, he swerved around a bicyclist before making another right. Donna's silver BMW was parked at the gate at the end of the driveway.

As he pulled up to the gate, she climbed out of her car. She looked like a million bucks. Her chestnut colored hair had grown. Her natural highlights glistened beneath the sunlight. A dimple dented her cheek when she smiled. She looked fresh and clean in a simple green v-neck s.h.i.+rt and white linen pants. The woman was a sight for sore, tired eyes.

He hadn't seen Donna or his daughter, Rachel, in months. Both their lawyers thought it was better that way while they reworked visitation rights and child support.

They embraced. She smelled like fresh flowers, newly mowed gra.s.s, sprigs of mint and everything good in life. He didn't want to let her go. But all good things had to come to an end and their embrace was no exception. After she stepped away, he headed for his daughter who stood back and waited.

Taking Rachel in his arms, his chest ached as he held her close. "I've missed you, sweetheart." More than she would ever know. His little girl had grown in the past two months. She no longer wore braces. She looked like her mother.

"Hi, Daddy."

He smiled at her, watching as she and Donna climbed back inside the car and waited for him to open the gate so they could follow him up the steep driveway. Once again, he found himself wis.h.i.+ng things had turned out differently. If only he'd tried harder to make things work. If only they were still one happy family. "I'm not sure if Sheila is home. She hasn't answered my phone calls," he said as he walked back to his car.

Donna had yet to see the new house he and Sheila had recently moved into. As he drove up the driveway, past dozens of fully-grown imported palms, he hoped Donna was taking it all in.

A car he didn't recognize, a black Porsche 911, was parked near the fountain. Sheila had many friends. That explained why she hadn't answered her phone. At least that meant she would be dolled up since she never entertained without looking her best.

He parked his car, climbed out, and waited for Donna and Rachel to catch up to him. He'd come a long way since their divorce, and he hoped they would be impressed. His daughter slid her hand into his and Donna followed the two of them up the wide flagstone stairs leading to his eight thousand square foot home.

Once inside, he shut the door behind them and called out Sheila's name. He thought he heard music.

"Dad, this place is crazy big!" Rachel said. She turned to Donna. "Mom, can I have my sixteenth birthday here?"

"We'll see." Donna's eyelashes fluttered before she managed to look into his eyes. G.o.d, she was amazing. His insides did funny things when he looked at her. He felt like he was back in high school.

"Which room is mine?" Rachel asked, already half way up the staircase.

"The biggest room, my darling. The second room to the right."

He was about to take Donna on a tour of the kitchen, the most impressive room in the house with its new cast-iron duel fuel range convection oven and Pro 48 sub-zero refrigeration, but he stopped cold when his daughter quickly reappeared at the top of the staircase, all color drained from her small face.

"What is it, honey?" Donna asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spy. I think I went to the wrong room."

Harrison followed Donna up the stairs. The music was louder than he first thought, blaring from the room where his daughter would be staying. Sheila had insisted they needed to hire a decorator to make everything perfect, and, of course, he agreed. Sheila liked to listen to music while she worked.

"What kind of music is that?" Donna asked, wrinkling her nose.

n.o.body needed to tell Harrison that the song playing was That's Not My Name by The Ting Tings...his wife's favorite song. Heat crept up his neck. How many times had he asked Sheila to not play that childish music in the house?

He stepped into the room with Donna on his heels, his daughter at her mother's side. He couldn't have been more bewildered by what he saw, couldn't have come up with a worse scenario had he tried. Sheila stood facing the over-sized bed with her back to them. She was dressed in nothing more than a pair of thong underwear and four-inch spiked heels. In her hand, she held the leather jockey whip he had bought her to use during her riding lessons. Every time Katie White sang the words "My name is Stacey" Sheila cracked the whip at the naked man tied to the bed. The whip was designed to make maximum noise and yet cause little pain. The man's tendons strained as he tried to get loose, but his wrists and ankles were bound to the bedposts and prevented him from getting away. He wasn't going anywhere. The fellow was gagged, preventing him from announcing Harrison's arrival. And yet the man's eyes flashed with horror as Harrison leaned down and pulled the plug on the sound system.

Donna held their daughter close to her chest before finally rus.h.i.+ng from the room.

Sheila turned about, her body well oiled, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng anger until she saw who had interrupted her dirty little game.

The whip dropped from her hand at the same moment Harrison's cell phone rang. Without blinking or looking away, he reached inside his pocket for his phone and flipped it open. It was Sharon, his secretary.

"Sir, I have a man on the phone who won't give his name. He says he's a friend who recently returned from Haiti."

Through the family room window, Kate watched Jack jog down the driveway and stop at the mailbox. From where she stood, it appeared he was pocketing a letter. What was he doing?

Next, he hotwired the VW, climbed in, and drove away. Kate headed across the black and white checkered marble foyer, taking note of the pitched beamed ceilings, the large picture windows, and marble fireplace. Auntie had definitely spent a fair amount of money on renovations since she was here last.

French doors had been left opened to a spectacular covered veranda, ideal for outdoor entertaining and taking in captivating views of the Pacific and the mountains. The gentle crash of the waves in the distance reminded her of Haiti. She was homesick.

Kate didn't quite know what to think about Jack. Somehow he had gotten the upper hand earlier when they argued. He was the one who avoided conflict like the plague, and yet he hadn't seemed the least bit bothered when she told him to stop crowding her and telling her what to do with her life. He was only trying to help. He cared about her. He cared too much and it scared her. She frowned.

Nothing scared Kate Huntley. She wasn't a weakling. She was brave and strong like her parents and n.o.body was going to- "Kate. There you are."

Caught off guard, Kate turned about, and found herself face to face with

"Where's Jack?"

"I'm afraid he had to leave." Kate didn't bother telling Auntie that Jack would be back, since she didn't want to upset the woman. Being around Auntie reminded her of better times, made her think of her mother and how much she missed female camaraderie. "Jack asked me to apologize for being rude last night. You had every right to be worried."

"I'm sorry he left," she said, her voice sincere as she placed a slender arm around Kate's shoulders. "I, too, wish to apologize for not telling him how much it means to me that he brought you home safely."

They headed across the great room. "Jack was concerned about the disc," Kate added. "It might be the only proof we have that he's an innocent man. Are you sure the disc is in good hands?"

Auntie stopped to pat her hand, making Kate feel like a child. "Don't worry about a thing. Come now, darling. Maria is waiting for you in the master suite."

"I thought we were going to set the table together?"

"Don't be silly, child. There are servants to attend to the decor. While Maria does your hair, you and I are going to have a chance to catch up with all you've been doing these past years. I want you to tell me everything. It has been much too long since we've chatted."

Jack stood in the bright red telephone booth situated outside the Paseo Nuevo Mall in downtown Santa Barbara and held the handset between his shoulder and ear while he reached back and pulled a video disc from his back pocket. Although he hadn't been able to read the original disc, he had managed to force the surveillance clerk to copy it. There was a copy of the disc in the trunk of the Volkswagen and one under the front seat. There was also a copy in the inside zipper section of Kate's bag. He hadn't told Kate because he figured she'd be safer if she didn't know. Instead, he let her believe she'd given the original and only disc to her Auntie.

"I'd like to talk to Agent Harrison," he told the person on the other end of the line.

"No, I'd rather not give you my name," Jack said. "Tell him it's a good friend back from Haiti and that I'm in a hurry."

Less than thirty seconds later, Harrison was on the phone. "Where are you, Jack?"

Harrison's voice sounded rattled, tense, as if he had too much on his mind. Despite all that, Harrison managed to emit just enough concern to keep Jack guessing as to whose side he was on. "I'm going to be frank with you, Harrison. As far as I'm concerned I can't trust you or anybody else in the agency. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that Patrick Monahan is dead." He wanted to hear Harrison's reaction, if any, to the news. But the other end of the line was silent. "For the record," Jack added, "I had nothing to do with Dr. Forstin's death."

"You know how it works," Harrison said without giving anything away. "If you're innocent, the truth will come out. It always does."

"Who hired the pilot to pick me up?"

"I know it looks bad, Jack, but the plane's engine was having problems. The pilot panicked and jumped s.h.i.+p. Nothing personal. Turn yourself in and we'll get everything straightened out."

Jack had heard enough. Harrison was playing games, so Jack cut him short. "I'm going to hang up, Harrison, so you might want to listen up. I have a video disc here with me that I'm sure you would like to have in your possession. Apparently, Dr. Forstin knew he was in danger and wanted the truth to be known in the event something happened to him."

"I think you're bluffing."

"It's your call," Jack said. "Meet me at the Paseo Nuevo Mall in Santa Barbara on State Street if you want the disc. I'm sure you won't have any trouble getting one of your trustworthy pilots to fly you to the Santa Barbara airport. I'll be at California Pizza Kitchen at two o'clock sharp."

"I can't possibly get there in that amount of time."

Jack ignored him. "That gives you, say, nearly two hours. Plenty of time. Oh, and do you have a pen handy?"

Jack paused, giving Harrison enough time to compose himself and grab pen and paper. "I also need two thousand dollars in cash." A random amount he picked off the top of his head mostly because he hadn't been able to use credit cards or touch his bank account knowing the feds would be watching. He and Kate were running out of dough. He looked over his notes to see what type of computer could read the disc. "I also need a LF72 with wireless antennae and a WCTT-2010 LevelOne CP, a charger and extra battery. That should do it. If you're late, don't expect to find me waiting."

Jack hung up and waited a few seconds before he picked up the handset and inserted more money. When the operator picked up he asked to be connected with the Ventura Police Department. After inserting a handful of coins he was connected to a clerk. Jack told the woman he was with the FBI, Cyber Unit, and she instantly forwarded his call to the lieutenant.

"h.e.l.lo, lieutenant. This is A.J. Hanson, FBI, Cyber Unit 3," he lied. "I hate to bother you with such a minor problem, but I was hoping you might be able to help me. I'm in town for a high tech convention and I ended up with a flat tire on Highway 101. A friendly couple stopped to help me and after they drove away, I noticed the man had dropped his money clip containing a sizeable amount of cash. I did have the good sense to write down their license plate number as they were driving off. It's 1TRR597."

Jack waited while he was put on hold. Within minutes the lieutenant was back on the line, giving him Sheila Harrison's name and address. "Thanks," Jack said. "I appreciate it. Keep up the good work."

Jack hung up the phone and shook his head. He'd been fairly certain it would be Harrison's name and address that would come up on the database and not John Wheaton, the name Kate's Auntie had given. Jack had made the call to check the license plate number because he wanted to know whether or not Kate's Auntie had lied.

Knowing Dr. Elizabeth Kramer had lied, and not being able to talk to Kate about it right away, didn't sit well with Jack. Unfortunately, he couldn't be in two places at once.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

It was past two in the afternoon and Kate was finding it excruciatingly difficult to sit in the plush leather tilt-back chair for another second. She had been sitting in the d.a.m.n chair for four hours while Maria gave her a facial, a ma.s.sage, and a pedicure. Next, the woman did her hair, which she had dyed a shade of ash-blonde, a color closer to her natural color. After a trim and a blow dry, Maria had made lots of tight curls and pinned them to Kate's scalp. Now Maria was in the process of putting a second coat of polish on Kate's fingernails. The noxious fumes made her head spin.

"That's enough," Kate said, gently pus.h.i.+ng Maria away so she could get out of the chair.

"I'm almost done, child. Please sit for a few more minutes so I may coat your nails with the quick drying spray."

Being called "child" by the woman was enough to make Kate grit her teeth. "Sorry. Can't do. I'm done." Kate tightened the belt around the cashmere robe she'd been asked to put on when Auntie led her into the in-house salon hours ago.

Maria looked ridiculously put off by Kate's unwillingness to let her finish, as if her job might be in jeopardy. Too bad. She'd had enough. As she made her escape out the door and into the hallway, Kate didn't bother looking at the gilt-framed mirrors covering the walls to check out her new look.

She needed to get outside. She needed to breathe. She needed to know that Jack was safe. Where the h.e.l.l was he? When would he be back? Why didn't she go with him?

Yesterday the man had told her he loved her and she'd thrown his confession back in his face. She didn't deserve his love. And now what? What if he never came back? What if he ended up like Dr. Forstin and her father, and who knew how many other innocent people who had died...and for what? Nothing made sense, especially her sitting in that d.a.m.n chair for the past four hours while Jack met with a powerful man he wasn't sure he could trust.

As she headed across the marbled foyer, her bare feet cool against the stone, she wondered where Auntie had disappeared to. Auntie had promised her they would have a long talk, but she'd said less than ten words to Kate before disappearing.

The sound of a car speeding off caught her attention. She peered out the window in time to see a dark Mercedes clear the front gates. Kate turned away from the window and headed toward the French doors, hoping to find a path leading to the beach. She needed to see the ocean, taste the salty breeze, and feel the sand between her toes. Rus.h.i.+ng through the doors, she came to a halt when she found Auntie on the veranda overlooking the ocean.

Auntie glanced over her shoulder, looking stunning in an expensive black designer linen suit. She held a gla.s.s of wine in one hand. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"No. I was just wondering where you were."

"I'm sorry I didn't make it back. With the party tonight and it being one of the busiest months for charities and all, I'm afraid I'm quite overwhelmed. The only event I will have to worry about after tonight is the star-studded fundraiser for AIDS research in Cannes next month."

Kate looked from the wine gla.s.s in Auntie's hand to the wine gla.s.s on the table. She walked over to the table for a closer look. The gla.s.s was half full. Somebody had left in a hurry.

"A friend, my neighbor, stopped by for a chat," Auntie said, her voice tinged with anxiety. "You'll have the chance to meet him tonight."

It wasn't the wine gla.s.s that held Kate's interest but the ashtray. Was that a nervous stutter she'd heard in Auntie's voice?

"What is it, dear?"

The ashtray was filled with the same silver foil-tipped cigarettes she'd taken from Ben Sheldon in Haiti. What were the odds of finding the same cigarettes here at Auntie's house? There was no lipstick on any of the filters. Kate looked back at Auntie, took note of the lipstick smudges on her wine gla.s.s.

"You look pale," Auntie said, her eyes never leaving Kate's. "Maybe you should sit down."

"I'm fine. Really I am." Kate knew she needed to act normal, convince the woman that everything was fine. Kate sat in one of the cus.h.i.+oned chairs and let her head fall back in a dramatic fas.h.i.+on. "Sitting in that chair for so long drove me nuts, Auntie. I don't know how women keep up with it all...pedicures, manicures, hair and facials. I thought I was going to go mad if I had to sit there for another minute."

Auntie released a nervous chuckle as she picked up a bell from the table and jiggled it in the air, making it ring. A maid appeared. She wore the same black dress and white ap.r.o.n as Maria.

"Take these things away," Auntie told her, "and bring my guest a gla.s.s of wine."

"No wine for me," Kate interjected. "I would love a gla.s.s of ice water though."

The maid nodded, cleared the table and headed back inside.

"You certainly know how to live in style, Auntie. Father would be proud if he could see you now, see what you've done with the house and the beautiful gardens he used to love so much."

Silence fell between them before Kate spoke again. "He was so close, Auntie, do you remember? Another few months and Dad would have found the cure for AIDS. I know he would have."

"It's a nice thought, but I'm not so certain your father was as close to finding a cure as you might believe. Dr. Forstin took over where your father left off. If the task had been so close at hand, surely the good doctor would have found the cure before his untimely death."

Kate inwardly cringed at how callous Auntie sounded, but she merely nodded and let a quiet moment fall between them before she asked, "Do you have a computer I can use?"

"Whatever for?"

"Jack has been showing me all the wonderful things that can be done on a computer. I'm embarra.s.sed to admit it, but I do believe I have become a full-fledged solitaire addict. It relaxes me."

Auntie's frown softened. "Certainly. I'll show you to the office after Danielle brings your water. But I can only leave you for a short time since you need to dress soon."

Kate forced a smile, but she could feel the tension in the air, thick and tangible. Her Auntie wasn't anything like the kind, softhearted woman she remembered as a child. Auntie appeared distant and cold; any kindness she showed seemed suddenly insincere.

Jack did his best to blend in with the crowds strolling through the Santa Barbara sun-drenched promenade and down the winding paths surrounded by boutiques and restaurants. The Paseo Nuevo Mall was located in the commercial and retail heart of downtown Santa Barbara, one of the more touristy malls in the area, which was exactly why he'd picked it as a meeting place.

He sat on a bench far enough away from the California Pizza Kitchen to see, but not be seen. He had purchased a dark blue baseball cap that s.h.i.+elded his eyes for the most part. He sat back and let the sun hit his face. Every now and then he glanced at the pizza place.

From where he sat, Jack could see through the front window of the boutique straight across from him. A clock hung on the wall. Harrison was due to arrive in five minutes.