Secret Sacrifices

by Jannifer Hoffman

  Quint swore under his breath. “This place has been burglarized or vandalized—or both,” he whispered. “We better give this plan a rest.”

  Somewhere in the darkness the sound of shattering glass brought a squeaky gasp from Jamie. Quint swung his beam of light toward the sound. A pair of red glowing eyes stared back at him.

  “It’s Scooter,” Jamie said, releasing her breath in a shaky huff. “The tape room is over here.”

  She left Quint’s side, leaped over a fallen bookcase, and made for the room before he could stop her or warn her that the burglars could still be in the house. When she switched her light on Quint snuffed his. He had no choice but to follow her. He couldn’t call out to her without making more noise than seemed prudent.

  The tape room was in no better shape than the sitting room. There were tapes and equipment scattered everywhere. Jamie was on her knees beaming light on a section of tapes that was still intact. The possibility of the tape she wanted being in that one undisturbed area was inconceivable.

  He dropped down beside her. “Forget it, Jamie. We have to get out of here right now!”

  He heard the sound of either a door closing or a window dropping shut, he couldn’t tell which, and at this moment he didn’t care. The next thing he heard was a siren in the distance. He grabbed Jamie by the waist, lifted her up, and carried her out the back door. She squirmed, but thankfully didn’t protest until they were outside.

  “Put me down, you big ape. I can walk.”

  The siren closing in screamed in their ears. Quint set her down, grabbed her hand, and started dragging her through the trees in the direction of his car. When they reached the car he glanced back at the house, to see the glow of flashing red lights in front of it. He opened his car door to stuff Jamie into the passenger seat when a bright light flashed out of the darkness from across the street.

  “What was that?” Jamie said, looking in the direction where she’d seen the light. There was another glaring flash and then a car tore off into the darkness.

  Quint finished shoving Jamie in the car and slammed the door. He raced around to the driver’s side thankful he left the car unlocked with the keys in the ignition. The second the engine was running he jerked the car in gear and pressed his foot down on the gas just hard enough to keep the tires from squealing and alerting the cops that someone was making a getaway.

  Jamie managed to pull herself upright in the seat. “What was that light?”

  Quint had the car ahead of him in sight. “A high-powered flash camera!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” Quint said. “But we’re going to find out. Buckle your seatbelt and hang on!” He rammed the gas pedal to the floor, giving thanks that his choice of rental car had been a Trans Am.

  “Do you want me to drive?” she asked, breathlessly.

  Quint took his eyes from the road just long enough to see if she was hysterical. She wasn’t. She was holding on to the armrest with one hand, the other hand was braced on the dash with the replacement tape she’d carried into the house still clutched in her gloved fingers, she was dead serious.

  “Christ, woman, this isn’t an international speedway and this car will barely do a hundred.”

  “But—”

  “Just keep your eyes on that car ahead of us and try to get a license plate number.”

  She didn’t argue with him, instead, she peered through the windshield keeping her eyes trained on the fleeing car.

  The car made a right turn on two wheels into an alley. Quint made the turn with equal speed.

  “It’s a Mercury Marquis,” Jamie yelled over the sound of the engine.

  Quint couldn’t even begin to speculate how she knew that from such a long distance, but he didn’t doubt her. The car emerged from the alley, made a sharp right on smoking tires, and turned left, ignoring a traffic light that was on full red.

  “Quint, slow down,” Jamie shouted. “He turned in front of the Glenview police station.”

  Quint hit the brakes.

  Just as he reached the corner, a red and white squad car peeled out in front of him, after the Marquis. Quint dogged the patrol car at a pace that was slow enough to keep from attracting attention, yet fast enough to keep it in sight. It took the patrol car only a few blocks to pull the Marquis over. By the time Quint and Jamie drove past, a man was spread eagled over the trunk.

  “Get the license number.” Quint said to Jamie. “Try to see if you recognize him.”

  “His legs are in the way. Drive slow; I’ll try to read the front plate.” She craned her neck to see the numbers. “793 884, Illinois plates.” She repeated the numbers until they had them committed to memory.

  “Did you recognize him?”

  “No, I couldn’t get a look at his face.”

  They were at the end of the block when she said, “Wait, stop here. Maybe they’ll haul him in and leave his camera in the car.”

  Quint nodded. “It’s a long shot but worth a try. Let’s give them a little more time though.” He turned the corner, drove slowly around the next couple of blocks, making his way back toward the Marquis. The patrol car was still there along with two others. He retraced the route around the block three more times, keeping a respectable distance until the patrol cars left. Sure enough, the Marquis stayed put.

  Quint drove past the abandoned Marquis and stopped just ahead of it. “You stay in the car,” he said. “Jamie!” She had already jumped out the door.

  “You stay behind the wheel, I’ll look.”

  Quint swore but he stayed in the car. It didn’t make sense for them both to be caught sneaking around a parked car five blocks from a police station. He peeled off the sweaty latex gloves she’d insisted he wear, and watched her through the rear view mirror. First she tried all the doors. They were locked. Then she went around to the front passenger side of the car. He couldn’t see exactly what she was doing but she was fiddling with the window; he only hoped she wasn’t breaking it. Seconds later she had the door open and was inside.

  A tow truck turned the corner three blocks away and was heading directly toward them. Quint was about to warn her when she charged out of the Marquis and dashed toward him with something in her hand. She shoved it in the deep pocket of her sweatshirt as she dove into the car.

  “Okay. Drive. The camera wasn’t there but I found something else.”

  “What?”

  “Car rental papers, I think.”

  “How did you get in the car?”

  She grinned. “They left the window open just enough for me to get my arm in. Let’s get out of here.”

  Quint saw no reason to argue. Ten minutes later they were parked in front of his motel. Quint switched off the engine, laid his head back on the seat, and released a breath of air drawn all the way from his toes. “God, what a night!” He looked over at Jamie, who appeared as ragged as he felt. She pulled off her latex gloves and the black felt hat she’d used to hide her blond hair and collapsed against the seat. She was sitting there, not moving, not talking. Just breathing deeply.

  “I’m sorry about the tape,” he said wearily. “We tried.”

  Jamie managed a weak smile. She picked up the tape she’d dropped on the floor between them and held it up. “Mission accomplished,” she said.

  Quint stared at her in disbelief. “You mean that isn’t the replacement tape?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I got lucky.” Her brows suddenly drew together in a thoughtful frown. “Do you think the guy in the car was the same person who trashed the house?”

  “I don’t know, but we have the license number. Let’s go find out who he is.”

  Quint got out of the car and came around to her side. She opened the door, and he bent down and reached for her hand to help her out. “I’m sorry I was so rough when I shoved you in the car back there. I didn’t have time to explain what I was going to do. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  She shook her head, and took his hand, clutching t
he tape in her other hand. Once out of the car she sagged against him and allowed him to walk beside her with his arm around her waist. “I feel a little wobbly,” she said. “Like I just drank a gallon of cheap wine.”

  “That’s adrenaline,” Quint said, guiding her up the two steps to his room. “I feel it too.”

  “I guess I’m no stranger to an adrenaline rush, but somehow this is different. If you feel it too, why am I leaning on you?”

  Quint stuck his key in the lock, turned it and opened the door. “Because I’m bigger and stronger, and I’m a man,” Quint said, closing the door behind them. “Or are you going to argue about that?”

  “I just thought—”

  Before she could finish Quint turned her in his arms, tilted her head up and pressed his mouth down on her lips. He had expected her to struggle. Instead she surprised him by slipping her arms around his neck and molding her body to his. Her small teasing tongue darted in and out of his mouth. When he broke the contact they were both breathless.

  “Lordy, woman, you make me forget common sense, reason and good intentions.” He reached behind him and flipped the light switch that was jabbing him in the back. The lamps by the bed cut the darkness with instant pale light. “I know you said you wanted us to get to know each other before we hit the sheets again, and I told you I’d respect that but—”

  “Then why did you kiss me?” Jamie asked, not moving.

  “Because I wanted to find out what stubborn tasted like.”

  Jamie gave a soft, throaty laugh. “So how did it taste?”

  “Like more. And if you don’t quit rubbing up against me we’re both going to end up on that bed over there naked, and to hell with good intentions. Just tell me that’s what you want too, and we’ll forget about getting to know each other’s favorite colors and toothpaste habits first.”

  “That’s not the kind of getting-to-know each other I had in mind. I want to know you internally.”

  Quint reached behind her, cupped her buttocks and pulled her against the rigid length of his erection. “We already know each other internally.”

  Quint heard the small gasp she made and felt the instant response of her body. She was ready for him but her stubborn determination won over. She pushed away from him, her cheeks flaming, her beautiful mouth laughing.

  “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not working.”

  “Liar.”

  The color on Jamie’s face deepened. She reached into her pocket; pulled out the crumpled papers she’d found in the Marquis, and thrust them into his hands. “Here, put your busy little one-track brain on these while I use the bathroom.”

  Quint laughed at her stiff back as she escaped through the only other door in the room. He called after her. “I also know about the birthmark on your left lower cheek. The one that looks like a Tyrannosaurus with its tail chopped off.”

  The door snapped shut behind her.

  Jamie stared at herself in the mirror. Her face looked like it had been near a fire. She wanted to be angry at Quint but it wasn’t working; everything he said was true and they both knew it. She did want to go to bed with him. If he had just taken her to the bed and started taking her clothes off, she wouldn’t have protested one iota. It was almost as though he knew exactly what he was doing when he gave her an easy out by baiting her.

  Behind her in the mirror she saw the skirt and sweater she’d left there when she changed earlier. Since she wasn’t ready to go out and face Quint yet, she stripped off her running suit and jumped in the shower.

  As the warm water poured over her she thought about the man in the Marquis. If he wasn’t the person who trashed Clay’s house, he must have been following her or Quint. She was used to people approaching her in public places, but this was the first time someone had followed her in the dark, and with a camera, no less.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jamie stepped out to find Quint with his back to her clicking away on his laptop. She hadn’t found a hair dryer so her curls were hanging in damp ringlets around her head.

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, next to the desk where he was working. “Find anything?” she asked.

  He paused from his typing to turn and look at her, noting her wet hair and change of clothes. “Damn, you look good. That’s what I need, a cold shower.”

  She started to say she hadn’t taken a cold shower when she remembered that cold showers were some kind of a man thing, so she let it drop. “Were the papers I found for a car rental?”

  Quint turned back to his computer grunting. “Not exactly. One paper was an application for a car rental but it was just a blank copy. The other paper was from a local pawnshop for an expensive digital camera. They gave me two things to work with. One, his name on the camera purchase, if it isn’t fake, and two, the rental agency he used for the car.”

  “What name did he give?”

  “Benny Gomez.” Quint gave her a sideways look. “Recognize the name?”

  Jamie shook her head. “No, you think it could be a fake?”

  Quint shrugged. “I don’t know about Chicago but pawn shops in New York aren’t particular who they sell merchandise to if the buyer is waving cash in his hand.”

  “Was there an address for Benny Gomez?”

  “No.” Quint reached for the paper and handed it to her. “Here, take a look, see if I missed anything. Right now I’m running the license plate number. At least when you rent a car you have to show a driver’s license with an address, and a credit card.”

  “I thought only the police could do that sort of thing?”

  Quint gave her a slanted grin. “Did I mention that I worked in the criminal records department of local precinct 209 in New York City for three years before I hung my shingle with Hunter?”

  Jamie quirked an eyebrow at him. “No, I don’t believe you did.”

  “All part of getting to know each other,” he said.

  Jamie watched his agile fingers speed over the keys. When the screen filled with numbers, he either selected one and watched the screen fill again, or typed new numbers to get a different screen. She blew out a loud sigh and began studying the pawnshop receipt.

  “Gomez’s hand writing is bad enough to belong to a doctor.” She continued examining the document, frowning. “This pawnshop is just up the street. Is it possible this guy was following you instead of me?”

  “That thought already crossed my mind. Wait, I think I have something here.” His eyes observed the screen as it filled in. “Hot damn, Jamie, the bastard is from New York. He was following me.”

  “He’s probably working for Cynthia Harman,” Jamie said.

  Quint turned to look at her in wide-eyed wonder. “You’re pretty sharp for a race driving jockette.”

  Jamie's smile widened into full-blown laughter. “I’ve been called a lot of things but jockette is a new one. I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.”

  Quint bent over and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “It’s a compliment. Now, let’s see if Benny Gomez has a record. That might tell us how long he’ll be in jail. I’d sure like to be there when he gets out to get my hands on that camera.”

  Jamie chewed on her lower lip, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t think there was anything behind us but trees and the side of your car when that flash went off. Do you suppose those pictures could do us some damage putting us near the scene of Clay’s place when it was broken into?”

  Quint was back to scrolling through screens. “The ironic thing is, Gomez had to have followed us there. He is the only person who would know we were only gone from our car a few minutes, not even close to the kind of time it would take to ransack a house. And we only saw two rooms. Chances are the rest of the house didn’t look any better.”

  “Good Lord, Quint. Who would do something like that? Burglars don’t normally bother throwing furniture around, do they?”

  “Which police department did you work for? Or did you take a course in burglary 101?”


  Jamie laughed. “No, it was common sense 101. Flipping furniture makes noise, and not too many people hide valuables under their sofa. Besides that, you’d just make a mess to stumble over in the dark.”

  “You’re making a good case. So who despises Clay Riker enough to vandalize his house like that?”

  “Off hand, I can only think of one person.”

  “Who, would that be,” Quint asked.

  “Me.”

  Quint snorted. “How could anyone believe a sweet little thing like you would break into somebody’s house?”

  Jamie gave him her narrowest look. “You have a built in sarcastic streak, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, and it gets worse. I’m charging you a hundred dollars for my work tonight.”

  “Take it out in trade.”

  Quint opened his mouth, shook his head and turned back to his screen. “I’m not touching that one, honey.”

  Jamie grinned. “You really are a lot smarter than I gave you credit for. I was just going to give you my agent’s number. He said he’d do anything for me.”

  “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that Ray Bentler is your agent.”

  Jamie’s grin broadened to show two rows of even white teeth. ”Isn’t this getting to know each other fun?”

  Quint tried to hide his smile. “Yeah, fun.”

  His smile faded as his screen quit flipping and stopped on a page of data. “Looks like our pal, Benny Gomez, did time for petty larceny. He’s out on parole. I’ll lay you ten-to-one odds he didn’t get a permission slip to visit Chicago. There goes any chance we had of getting our hands on that camera. Unless...”

  He glanced at his watch calculating the time difference between Chicago and New York. “I wonder how Virgil would feel about a midnight phone call.”

  Chapter Nine

  Virgil answered the phone on the fourth ring.