Now, with Wayland marching angrily down the sidewalk, both men were gone.
After paying his bill, he gazed over at Celeste again. He wanted to be with her right this second, but he’d be smarter to stay where he was for a few more minutes, in case Reese or Wayland reappeared.
Finally, he pushed back his chair and started for the door. Outside, there was no sign of either man—although that didn’t guarantee they were both really gone.
Celeste spotted him when he was halfway across the street, and her relief was apparent. It made him wonder if there’d ever come a time when she’d simply look glad to see him, when she wouldn’t be living in fear.
Several people in Zia’s glanced at him as he walked in. Two of them, a couple sitting near Celeste, he made as detectives.
He gave them a subtle nod, thinking they’d probably overheard at least some of what had been said, which put them ahead of him.
“Am I glad to see you,” Celeste murmured as he reached her.
He was dying to wrap his arms around her and hug her half to death. Instead, he merely said, “After the company you’ve been keeping, I’m not surprised. But come on, let’s get out of here.”
He led the way to the back door and into the alley, speaking briefly to the uniform posted there, then taking Celeste’s hand and starting rapidly in the direction of his car.
“So what happened?” he asked as they walked.
By the time they reached the Mustang, she’d finished telling him.
Before he started the engine, he gave her that hug, and holding her felt so good it required a major effort to stop. But he wanted to get away from here.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking garage.
Good question. His apartment was obviously no longer an option. Now that Wayland knew where she’d been staying, the Ice Man would, as well. So where did they go?
After considering and rejecting a few possibilities, he settled on one he liked. That decision made, he figured he’d better tell her about Hank’s father.
“Oh, Travis,” she murmured after he had. “Hank must be feeling...”
He glanced at her and she shook her head. “I know exactly how he’s feeling. My father died of a sudden heart attack. Then my mother...well, I’m only too aware of how losing a parent hits people.
“You never really think about what an important part of your life your parents are, a part that’s always been there. Then, suddenly, poof, there’s a big void. And you wouldn’t believe how often you find yourself thinking about him. Or her.”
He reached for her hand, trying to imagine how it would be to walk into his parents’ place and not have his mother hurry to hug him. Or his father make some corny remark about hoping he’d try to not eat them out of house and home this time.
“What about his little boy?” Celeste asked.
“He’ll be okay. Their housekeeper is like a grandmother to him.”
Turning his attention back to his driving, he cut over to Ninth, where the traffic was lighter. After that, it didn’t take long to reach the unpretentious little Shantyre Hotel.
When they got there he parked in the lot beside it, choosing a space at the rear and snugging the Mustang up close to the car facing it so his plates couldn’t be seen without effort.
For half a second, he debated asking Celeste to wait in the car while he made sure Al Catucci was still the manager. But he didn’t really want her out of his sight, so he took her inside with him.
“This way,” he said, starting across the modest lobby.
He ignored the desk clerk, who looked as though he couldn’t care less about them, anyway, and headed directly to the manager’s office—offering up a silent prayer of thanks when he saw that Al’s name was still on the door.
It was half-open, so he just gave a single knock and stuck his head in.
“Detective Quinn,” Al said, grinning at him. “Good to see you. What can I do for you?” he added as they stepped inside.
“We need a safe place to lay low for a night or two.”
Al didn’t say another word. He simply rose from his desk and walked out of the office. A minute later he was back with a room key.
“Stay for as long as you need to,” he said, handing it over. “And nobody will know who you are except me.”
“Thanks. I appreciate this a lot.”
“No problem. October’s a low-occupancy month.”
Celeste murmured a thank-you. Then, once they’d started for the room, quietly said, “A good friend?”
“Actually, just an acquaintance. But this place is in the two-four precinct, which is where I worked before I joined Homicide. And my partner and I defused a situation here a few years ago. Something that might have cost Al his job. I was hoping he hadn’t forgotten.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and once they were inside their room Travis reached for Celeste and kissed her.
They had a lot of thinking to do, but it could wait for a while. At the moment, reminding her how much he cared was more important.
* * *
“I’LL BE THERE,” the Ice Man said into his cellular.
“You’re clear on exactly where it is.”
“Yeah, I’ve got it.”
“And you understand you have to be right on time. That’s crucial.”
“Of course I understand,” he muttered, his annoyance growing with every stupid instruction.
“Good, then I’ll see you.”
“Yeah.” He clicked off and tossed the phone onto his bed, telling himself not to worry. He’d been waiting so long for the go-ahead call that he should just be glad it had finally come. Problem was, this job kept bothering him more and more.
He didn’t mind too much being told when. Not usually. But the “when” had never been this specific before. That really bugged him. Like he was a kid being reminded to get to school on time or something.
And he didn’t like being told where. Didn’t like that at all.
He’d scoped out Celeste Langley’s street. Then Travis Quinn’s. Had figured out how he could get in and out of the areas fast. Possible escape routes if there was any problem.
But now, to walk into a strange place, cold...
Cold. He was the Ice Man, why should he be concerned about walking into a place cold?
His little joke didn’t make him smile. Maybe his client figured this was the perfect place for a hit, but his client wasn’t the pro.
Still, it sounded all right. Sounded pretty good, actually. No one anywhere around except him, the client and his target. But things weren’t always as good as people made them out to be.
Shaking his head, he wished once again that he’d never taken the money for this job. Or that he’d asked for double his regular fee.
Because what he didn’t like most of all was surprises. In this case, being hit with a major change at the last moment.
Tomorrow, he decided, he’d pay that little creep Giovanni a visit. And make it real clear he didn’t want the guy sending him any more clients with marbles where their brains should be.
* * *
TRAVIS HAD SHOWERED FIRST, and when he came out of the bathroom Celeste was sitting on the bed with the pillows propped up against the headboard and the top sheet tucked modestly around her.
She was apparently lost in thought, so he wandered over to the window and just stood gazing out.
After a while, he turned from the window and said, “What are you thinking?”
She gave him a wan smile. “About how I told Evan Reese that Zia’s was one of my favorite restaurants. And how I’m glad it really isn’t. Because I’ll never be able to show my face in there again.
“I mean, twice now, the man I was supposed to have lunch with storm
ed out on me. Without ordering any food. If they saw me coming again they’d lock the door.”
Travis gave her major points for even trying to see humor in what had happened, then said, “You know what?”
“What?”
“That’s the absolute least of our worries. There are a zillion restaurants where you’ll still be welcome.”
“You’re right. And having to leave Snoops on his own tonight isn’t a serious problem, either. There’s lots of food down. He’ll be fine.”
He nodded, aware they were making small talk to avoid getting into a discussion about where they should go from here.
Maybe that was because they were both feeling as if they didn’t have many options, although he did have an idea. He was just reluctant to tell her about it because it involved her. And, ideally, she shouldn’t leave this room until he’d gotten to the bottom of things.
But considering how little progress he’d made thus far, that might take forever. And he doubted she’d go for the idea of being cooped up indefinitely.
“What would you think about staying here for longer than a night or two?” he asked, deciding to test the waters.
She held his gaze for a moment, then said, “I could live with that. As long as you’re here with me.”
“Well, I’d be gone some of the time.”
“Travis...I don’t want to be alone in a strange place. Sitting here, jumping at every sound. We considered my going to a hotel in the first place, remember? Before we decided I’d stay with you. And...I’d just be too nervous.”
“Then maybe you should leave town. And I’m not talking about a fictional friend in Connecticut. I’m thinking far away. San Francisco or someplace.”
She slowly shook her head. “Go to San Francisco or someplace and worry myself sick about you? Because that’s all I’d do.”
“Really?”
“You haven’t figured that out by now?”
Lowering himself onto the bed beside her, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Travis, I want to be wherever you are,” she whispered.
And he wanted to be wherever she was. He wanted to hold her close, just the way he was doing right now, and never let her go.
He loved her so much he could hardly believe it. And if she really felt that same insane way about him...
He just had to bring this nightmare to an end. Then they could get on with their lives. Together.
The word began echoing in his head, but he didn’t speak it aloud. That would only be tempting fate.
Yet wasn’t that exactly what he’d be doing if he involved her in something that could be dangerous? As much as he didn’t want to risk that...
Celeste tensed in his arms when his cell began to ring.
“It’s okay,” he said. “No one has any idea where we are.”
He answered the call and Hank said, “Hey, it’s me.”
His tone was upbeat, so things couldn’t be a total disaster in Chicago.
“Glad you called,” Travis told him. “How’s your father?”
“Well, he’s in intensive care. But they’ve got back some test results and the damage isn’t too bad. Nothing like they were afraid it might be.”
“That’s great, Hank.”
He repeated the news to Celeste and she smiled. “Tell him I’m aiming all my positive vibes toward Chicago.”
“She says she’s positive-vibing you.”
“Yeah, well, thank her for me. My mom’s doing better, too. Hearing that Dad’ll probably pull through made a world of difference.”
“I’ll bet.”
“At any rate, I’ll hang in here till we’re certain he’s on the mend, but I shouldn’t be away for too long. So, how are things there?”
“Actually, we’ve run into a problem.”
“I’m going to shower,” Celeste whispered.
As she headed for the bathroom, Travis began telling Hank about what had happened at Zia’s.
After he was finished, Hank muttered, “You know, you were right. We should have charged Reese with something. I don’t care who his uncle is. If it had made him back off, it would have been worth a hassle. But what are you going to do now?”
“I’m still considering.”
What he’d like to do, right this minute, was discuss his idea with Hank. Get his thoughts on it.
But the shower had stopped running, which meant that Celeste would be back out here any second. And he didn’t want her to know what he was thinking until he decided whether he was willing to involve her.
“Well, you take care, buddy,” Hank said. “And if you want to talk about what’s happening, just call. I’ve got my phone with me, so I’m just a speed dial away.”
“Thanks. I might do that.” But he probably wouldn’t. With his father lying in an ICU, Hank didn’t need anything more to worry about.
As he put down his phone, the bathroom door opened and Celeste appeared—dressed again, but with her hair still damp.
“That’s wonderful news about Hank’s dad,” she said. “From what you initially told me, I was fearing the worst.”
He nodded slowly, buying himself a few seconds of thinking time. If he tried going to talk to Bryce Wayland on his own, would the guy even see him? And if he did...
His best guess was that he wouldn’t get very far without Celeste’s help. So as uneasy as it made him...
Telling himself he just didn’t have a choice, he said, “I want to run something by you.”
She nodded.
“I’m thinking we might be able to force things to a head by paying Bryce a visit.”
“We,” she said slowly. “You mean the two of us.”
“I would never let you go see him alone. Not without Hank here to orchestrate backup. So...are you game for another session with him?”
“Of course. Just tell me what we’re trying to do.”
He picked up his phone again and handed it to her. “First, call and see whether he’s home. Just click off if he answers, though.”
He’d rather not alert Bryce to the fact that they were coming—in case he alerted the Ice Man. But he certainly wasn’t going to say that to Celeste.
She pressed in a number, held the phone to her ear for a minute, then clicked off. “He’s there.”
“Good, then we’re on.”
“Okay, so we go to his apartment and...”
“Well, we can fine-tune this on our way there. But, basically, you’ll say you’re so upset about what happened in the restaurant that you just had to talk to him. That you want to tell him what’s really been going on with the two of us.
“Not that you’ll actually do that. You’ll say we aren’t involved with each other and you were seriously considering the idea of getting back together with him.
“And that you asked me to come along to help you explain why you’ve been staying at my place—since it’s such an incredible story.”
“And the incredible story is...?”
“The truth. Or parts of it, at least. We tell him that while Hank was asking around about your brother, he learned there was a contract on you. And, naturally, he told you about it so you could take precautions. But, not surprisingly, it made you really upset.”
“So upset that I totally freaked out,” Celeste said, continuing the thought. “Bryce would certainly believe that. Every time I talk to him he starts going on about all the stress I’ve been under.”
“Good. So you freaked out and Hank was trying to come up with a way of helping you.
“And it occurred to him that since I was just starting a couple of weeks’ leave I might agree to hire out as a bodyguard. You think Bryce would believe that?”
She shrugged uncertainly. “He might, although he’d wonder why I di
dn’t hire a real bodyguard. Someone who does it as his full-time job, I mean.”
“Because you wanted protection starting right then. And it would have taken a while to arrange...”
Travis paused, reminding himself that Wayland wasn’t stupid. He’d be suspicious of everything they told him. Still, they’d be catching him off guard, and if he said just one wrong thing...
“We’ll have to play it by ear after we get started,” he said at last.
“But the important thing is that we tell him we know about the contract and see how he reacts. Because he’ll immediately wonder if we’re aware that he’s behind it.”
“Travis?” Celeste said slowly.
“What?”
“How much trouble could you get in for doing this? With the department?”
“I’m not sure. None if nobody hears about it.”
“But if somebody does?”
“It might not be a big problem.”
“Really?”
He shrugged. “I won’t be going to see him as a cop. I’ll be going as your friend.”
Of course, he actually had no idea whether that would make any difference to the C.O. Right this minute, though, he couldn’t care less.
The only thing he cared about was that nothing happened to Celeste.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sunday, October 10, 8:47 p.m.
CELESTE HADN’T BEEN back to the apartment she’d shared with Bryce since the day she’d walked out on him, and the closer they got to Murray Hill the more anxious she felt.
But the prospect of setting foot in the apartment again wasn’t what was bothering her. It was thinking about what might happen while they were there.
If Bryce had killed Steve, then he had a gun. No, she corrected herself. According to Travis, he’d have gotten rid of it.
He could have bought another one, though, and... Or maybe nothing would happen.
Despite the way everything seemed to point to Bryce’s guilt, she still wasn’t entirely convinced he was the villain of the piece, was still having trouble believing she could have lived with him for three years without realizing he was capable of—
The Shelter of His Arms (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 19
