01 Untouchable - Untouchable

by Lindsay Delagair

  The next file was thin, but the contents were shocking. It was about me. I looked at my school picture from earlier last fall. There was information on me as Annalisa McKinnis. My Pensacola address, phone number, even my class schedule was there. It was a short summary of my false self. No wonder he was concerned about who I really was—there just wasn’t enough here to make a complete life for anyone. There were two dates hand-written in the folder, one was March 10th, the day before he started at Pensacola High School and the other was April 25th. It took me a second, but then I understood that I was looking at his deadline—a literal deadline for me.

  I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, trapped in the castle, watching the sand pour through the hourglass. I didn’t have a brave trio out there trying to rescue me. I was here with the soldier that had vowed to take my life; the true villain was Robert and his mystery woman. Yet, kind as Evan had been to me, I was still his captive and he was still the executioner.

  I tugged at his file drawers, wondering how many other lives I would view that he had taken, but the drawers were securely locked. I booted up his computer, expecting to meet a password roadblock, but to my surprise the guest account had not been removed. I couldn’t get to his documents and records, but I could get to the programs and… I caught my breath, something I hadn’t thought of doing that was now one simple click away; the internet.

  My mind began to race. I couldn’t call Mom, but most email accounts were untraceable. I could go to my email and send her a message. Robert had his own computer and they each had separate accounts so he would never see my message. I could tell her I was safe. I could tell her to be careful and not mention anything about me to him. I could tell her I was close to solving the mystery of who was torturing our family.

  I was certain of one thing, he would be so angry if he knew what I was doing. I wasn’t actually doing anything against his wishes. He never specified that I couldn’t send email. I must have debated with myself for a solid ten minutes before I opened my email account and hit the word compose. When I was finished and had hit the send button, I was overcome with guilt. I turned off his computer and went downstairs to wait for him to come home. I would debate with myself if I would tell him what I’d done.

  I must have dozed off on the couch, because when I woke he was seated beside me, gently shaking me. “Hey, sleepy head, time to get up and get ready.”

  “It’s still early, isn’t it?” I asked rubbing the tiredness from my eyes.

  “It’s a little after three. I bought you some things, I hope they fit. I need you to try them on.”

  Boy, now I really felt guilty about what I’d done. He comes home with presents and I was doing things behind his back. I looked at the bags scattered by the base of the couch. “Wow, if you were going shopping for me, you should have brought me along.”

  “There were a few places I was going that you couldn’t go,” he said sheepishly, glancing toward a bag that was off from the others.

  My curiosity peaked but I went into the bag closest to me. “Stitch’s jeans! Awesome,” I exclaimed pulling out the item.

  “It’s a jean skirt,” he corrected.

  “How did you know my sizes?” I said, looking at the tag and seeing it was a zero.

  “I was with you when you bought your items at Wal-Mart, remember?”

  “Well, I love it. It’s gorgeous! Nice hoodie, and, ooh, heels, too. I dug into the next bag and pulled out about a half dozen, assorted colors of spaghetti tanks, which I dearly loved wearing. There was a Victoria Secret’s bag—I was excited, but quickly becoming concerned about this father of his I was supposed to meet. Why would my undergarments matter?

  He must have seen the confusion on my face, “You needed one of their clear-strap bras to go with the tank tops, so…”

  “You went into a ladies lingerie shop,” I laughed. “I bet the sales girls were fighting over who was gonna get to wait on you!”

  I could tell he was trying to keep a straight face, but the smile had already gripped the corners of his lips.

  “Panties, too,” I said, trying not to sound overly shocked. That was going above and beyond the call of duty for any man.

  “The sales girl said you have to have something to match the bra. Who was I to argue over what a woman needs under her clothes?”

  A smaller bag was from a jewelry store but I couldn’t go further, I had to ask. “Why do I need to have all this stuff to meet your dad? He’s not—he’s not strange or something, is he?”

  “My dad is a bit unusual, but not like you’re thinking. He appreciates the finer things in life and he expects those around him to dress the part, but I got carried away. I started out just looking for the hoodie and before I knew it, I had filled the car.”

  It was true that I didn’t have a jacket, and the last time we went out, I was cold, but it still didn’t make much sense. “Why do I need a jacket?” This time I was really suspicious as to his motives.

  He reached over for the large plain bag and pulled out a daintier single holster version of the shoulder harness he normally wore when we went shooting. “To cover this,” he confessed.

  “You’re not gonna—I’m not carrying a gun to dinner!”

  “It’s just a precaution, Leese…”

  “NO! I can’t! I’ll be a nervous wreck all night! Don’t make me do this, please.”

  “Baby, David is gonna be there and even though I plan on staying between you and him all night, if he gets a couple drinks in him, he’ll be worse than he was here.”

  “I can’t shoot your brother!”

  “I don’t want you to, but I also don’t want you to be defenseless.” He was pleading with me now, but I just couldn’t see me doing this.

  “The gun is too—it’s so big, someone will see it under my jacket. I’m not defenseless!” I exhorted, “I’m a black belt for crying-out-loud.”

  “Black belts don’t stop bullets. The new gun I just bought for you is really small.” He reached down into the same bag and brought out a gray container. “It’s a Glock-26—a baby Glock—it holds ten rounds,” he said opening the box.

  Ten rounds! I had a feeling I was going to a gangster massacre instead of dinner. I looked at it and it was smaller than the Glock-17 he had taught me to shoot, but I knew it was still going to feel like a cannon strapped to my side. I wanted to cry. With all the shooting lessons I had begged for, I never dreamed he would expect me to carry a gun at some point.

  “Let’s at least get you dressed and have you try it on.” He was giving me the most pathetic puppy-dog face, begging me to do what he wanted.

  I grabbed the bags, leaving the gun and holster right where they were, and stomped off to the bedroom. I suddenly didn’t feel so guilty about my one little email.

  I took longer than usual to get dressed. The skirt was an ankle-length denim with a high front slit that fit like it had been made just for me. I picked out my top and tried on my new bra. I could hardly believe that he paid attention to my bra size as well as everything else. I’d have to remember that he had a nearly photographic memory. The black strapped stiletto heels made my legs look longer than they already were and brought out their shapeliness. After makeup and brushing my hair, I stood in front of the mirror surprised at how elegant I actually looked.

  I hadn’t opened the jewelry bag until I finished dressing, knowing that it would be hard to stay mad at him if there was something really beautiful inside. The first box revealed a pair of dazzling one carat diamond stud earrings set in white gold. The second box contained an inch long, white-gold cross with five diamonds in the center. Having him remember that I wore a silver cross when I was in Pensacola caused me to forgive him for the whole ‘wear-a-gun-to-dinner’ thing. The only problem now: I was back to feeling guilty again.

  I walked down the hallway, stepping out in the living room where he was dressed and patiently waiting for me. I was surprised that he was wearing a suit. I thought it must be very important to him to impres
s his father, but it wasn’t until he walked up to me and wrapped me in those glorious arms that I realized why he had on a suit. He was wearing his double holster and the jacket was simply a covering.

  “You look amazing,” he whispered.

  With my heels on, I was as tall as him, so I was able to look directly into those intense eyes. “Well, my personal attendant did a marvelous job picking out my outfit,” I teased. Then I took a long breath and pointed to my holster. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind fitting that thing on me would you?”

  He gave me a smoldering look that could melt steel.

  At that moment he could have fitted me for full body armor and I wouldn’t have cared.

  He slipped the harness on me and fastened the clips to the waist of my skirt and then adjusted the buckles until it was as snug as second skin. He picked up the baby Glock and, reminding me it had a full clip, he secured it into the holster. I was right. It felt like I was wearing a cannon.

  He held out my new cotton hoodie for me to put my arms through the sleeves. He lifted my hair carefully out of the jacket and turned me toward a nearby mirror. “You see,” he said, standing close behind me. “No one will even know it’s there.”

  “Except for me,” I gave my weak rebuttal.

  He reached around in front of me and carefully started the jacket’s zipper, pulling it halfway up. “Don’t undo that. I don’t want you to lean forward and have someone get an accidental view of your baby.”

  “Well, I’d always said that someday I wanted a baby, but this isn’t what I had in mind.” We both looked into the mirror at that point, our eyes focused on the others. I hadn’t meant for that to come out that way. I had been careful not to mention my hopes and dreams for my future in front of him because I knew I’d never reach them. But one tiny slip and his face was filled with anguish. It would be my life or his at the end. He knew what his refusal to kill me would mean, and then someone else would just finish the job he didn’t do. It seemed much simpler to me now, the loss of one instead of two.

  It was total silence the rest of the way to the restaurant. I brought my iPod and once again was finding comfort in my music. I needed comfort; my nerves were going wild. The restaurant was on the western end of New Orleans in what appeared to be an area filled with boutiques, shops, cafés and other restaurants.

  We pulled in front of Giorgio’s Italian Bar and Grill, but before he opened his car door, he finally turned to me to speak. “Don’t call me Evan tonight.” And that was all he said.

  The restaurant was fuller than I expected and then I remembered it was Friday night.

  The hostess looked up and smiled broadly when she saw him, and then gave a quick surprised glance at me. “Your father is in the back,” she said over the din of the crowd.

  He never smiled, nor slowed his pace, as if she hadn’t been standing there at all. We worked our way past the tables and the bar, heading back to an area marked as the banquet room. It was immediately quieter as we entered the room. There were only four people in there. Celeste was the person who met us at the door. The other person I recognized was David; I gave an unintentional shudder when I saw him. She took my arm and brought me over to the table to where a handsome older, but heavyset man was seated. The man stood and gave me a surprisingly warm smile.

  “Well, you must be, Annalisa, Micah’s million dollar target.”

  The color drained immediately from my face. He not only said it out loud but, he said it as if it was no big deal. Even his sister showed no surprise at the remark. I glanced at Evan and I could see the pulse rising in his neck.

  Celeste intervened, “Annalisa, this is my husband, Giorgio Gavarreen.”

  I offered my hand, but instead he grabbed me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You certainly are beautiful. I can see where this is going to be difficult for him.”

  I was trying to come up with some kind of response, but I was shocked.

  “Have a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for me next to him. “I’ve already told my staff what to bring out for dinner. I hope you enjoy spicy food. We do a Creole/Italian blend.”

  “Yes,” I managed to force out. “I—we were discussing that just this morning. I think I like food hotter than—Micah.” I caught myself in the nick of time, I had almost said, Evan.

  “Really?” He seemed surprised. “You seem like a cultured young lady. I would have thought the hottest thing you’ve ever handled might be a little black pepper.”

  “No,” I said, finally smiling and realizing that however uncomfortable this had been at the start, he was simply being forthright because everyone in the room knew what was going on. Why act like everything was fine and I was just some date that his son had brought to meet the family? “I’ve got a soft spot for deep-fried, stuffed jalapenos.”

  He chuckled deeply. “Next thing you’ll tell me is that you drive stock cars and swill down beer!”

  Evan actually let a laugh slip on that one. Giorgio looked from him back to me. he gave me a small nod to let me know it was okay to be candid with his father. “No, not me. I don’t drink, but I have driven the Daytona Speedway before.”

  “She can also,” Evan interrupted, “Spin a car three-sixty and slide sideways into a parallel parking space at thirty-miles-an-hour.”

  David scoffed and leaned back in his chair.

  This must have been the type of thing that his knew his father would enjoy learning.

  “That I would like to see,” his father remarked.

  “I’ve got the Corvette out front, Dad. Would you like to take a ride with her—she’s already had it over one-hundred and forty on the interstate.”

  “Micah Gavarreen, you’re an idiot!” his sister began a tirade. “You’ve got a billionaire’s daughter that half the nation is looking for right now, doing over a hundred miles an hour down the interstate! Just how deep of a pile of crap do you plan on putting yourself into? I might not be able to pull you out of this one!”

  “Gwen!” Giorgio snapped, “You will learn to hold your tongue when you are around me, do you understand?”

  She grumbled something unintelligible and then responded with a, “Yes, Sir.”

  “I have to admit, Micah, that doesn’t sound like a smart thing to be doing,” Giorgio said, turning back to look at the two of us.

  “I—I used a radar detector and made sure no one was behind us—and it was only for a few seconds and then I backed off. I’m not trying to get Micah caught.”

  His sister rolled her eyes, and David laughed.

  “You’ve got to tell me something, Annalisa,” Giorgio began.

  “Call me Leese, please,” I said, putting my hand on his (which generated a big smile on his face).

  “I’ve never seen someone, rich or poor, be comfortable with what you know is going to happen.”

  “That’s because she’s banking on him not pulling the trigger,” David interjected.

  Giorgio shot David a look that made the smile drop immediately from David’s face.

  “Micah isn’t the bad guy here,” I said slowly. “If it hadn’t been him, then someone else would have taken the job, and I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “You got that right,” David sneered.

  “Son, if you open that mouth of yours again, I am personally going to close it for you! Do you understand?”

  David nodded. Evidently the family was ruled by Giorgio and no one dared cross him.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “When I figured out what Micah was, he nearly killed me right then.” I was still able to feel the Glock pressed to my temple. “I only asked him, since he was given six weeks, if he’d let me pay him for the other five weeks so that I could live long enough to figure out who’s doing this to my family.”

  Giorgio nodded as if in deep thought. “You are a very unusual girl,” he said softly.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Evan remarked.

  Giorgio waited for the explanation.

&
nbsp; “When she figured it out, she got to my gun first.” Everyone in the room suddenly seemed very interested in what he was about to say. “She had the perfect shot, but, instead, she handed me the gun and asked me to make it painless. And, after she said she’d like to hire me, she helped me finish setting all this up.”

  “Kinky,” David uttered with a smile.

  I rolled my eyes, “It’s not his fault, but I’ve got to help my mom and my sister.”

  “And now you’re in love with him.” Giorgio wasn’t asking; he was stating it.

  Evan jumped back slightly as if someone had shocked him. Evidently, Celeste had told her husband what she discovered when she had been at the house. I told him that I thought he was someone I could fall in love with back when we had our first dinner at the restaurant in Pensacola, but I’d never looked him in the eye and uttered those words. There was no way I could reveal how strongly I felt about him. I couldn’t let him know he’d have to kill the one person that truly loved him.

  “No! Absolutely not,” I gave a nervous laugh. “I felt like I was falling for him when I thought he was eighteen, and Ev… Micah is really sweet, but he’s too old for me. We’re two different people, two different worlds,” I lied harder than I’ve ever lied in my life. Now if my eyes didn’t tear up and give me away, I could make it through this moment. Celeste knew the truth, but I was hoping she would understand why I was denying what I felt for him.

  “Micah,” his father looked at him. “How do you feel about this girl?”

  “She’s my mark, just a target, Dad. You know I’ve never screwed up a job.”

  Giorgio’s hand reached up and gently patted Micah’s face. “Good. So you’re telling me I’m not getting ready to lose a son and start a war.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked before Evan could answer.

  “Stupid little twit,” David growled. “If someone whacks off Giorgio Gavarreen’s son, there will be retaliation and then…”