by Jo Leigh
She’d already decided that meeting him again would be courting trouble. But she had to tell him about Potereiko. She thought writing a note was the best bet, which she could give to Mrs. Norris. The note would also remind Nick to take special care with the nanny. She’d been so kind.
Patrick loved her, and Jenny could understand that. What a stroke of luck that Todd had found her. Maybe, after this, Mrs. Norris would find a nice family to look after. They’d be very lucky.
She went into the bathroom and slowly cataloged her belongings, putting a select few into the overnight case. Her razor, deodorant, things that she might need on her way to who knew where. Then she took virtually everything else and put it in one of the bigger suitcases. The only things she left out were makeup and a few hair supplies. Unsure what time everything was going to come down, she had to be prepared to get dressed for the wedding.
Patrick had been given a little tuxedo for his appearance at the ceremony. She’d seen him in it when she’d stopped by on her way to pack, and he’d looked so adorable.
All she wanted was to have him back. Him and Nick. Her two guys. She didn’t give a damn where they lived, as long as it wasn’t here.
She’d like to get Patrick a puppy. He was old enough now not to hurt it, and growing up with a dog had been an important part of her life.
As she finished in the bathroom, she wondered what Nick’s life had been like. When he’d joined the FBI. Had he always wanted to be in law enforcement? Was Nick even his real name?
It was all so overwhelming. She could only be grateful that Todd was so preoccupied. Hell, he’d been almost human for two days, which was something of a record.
All she had to do was to get through tonight and to morrow, and that would be then end of it. No one was going to hurt her again. Ever.
She wanted Todd punished for all his sins. She hoped they caught him with the weapon, with enough incriminating evidence to see him in jail for the rest of his life.
What delicious revenge to see him put away with all the other criminals. Having to dress in prison clothes instead of his million-dollar suits. To eat mess-hall food, to have to obey the guards or suffer the consequences. That was almost as good as killing him herself. She wasn’t sure she could actually do it, but it wouldn’t surprise her. She’d never hated anyone as deeply as she hated Todd.
As if her thoughts conjured it, her phone rang. It was Todd himself, not one of his lackeys.
“I thought we’d have a private dinner tonight. Just the two of us. Be here at eight.”
“I’ll be there,” she said.
She sat on the edge of her bed. He wanted a private dinner on the eve of his wedding. She didn’t want to think about what that meant.
He’d been leaving her alone, not making her sleep with him, but her luck might have run out there. It was all right, though. She could bear it one more time. She had to bear it.
Now, however, she’d better write that note to Nick, get it to Mrs. Norris, then finish packing. She had to be on time—or else.
TODD WATCHED as the lab technician worked on the blood samples. He had to type four specimens: his, Jen ny’s, Patrick’s and Nick’s. It could be that the blood tests wouldn’t give him enough information and then they would have to do DNA testing. That would take some time, but he didn’t care. He would do whatever he had to, to determine paternity. On the other hand, this quick test could eliminate him as the father. Or Nick.
He was pretty damn sure that Nick was the boy’s father. The birthmark on his back was too similar to the birthmark on the boy, and Todd didn’t believe in coincidences.
“How much longer?” he asked.
The tech, someone from Sunrise hospital who did this for a living, looked down at his supplies. “Just a few minutes, Mr. Todd.”
Todd nodded. He leaned back, turning his thoughts to the morrow. It was going to be a glorious day. The implosion. Getting the package from Potereiko. He hated to kill the man, but it was necessary. The way he was going to do it was so elegant and simple, there would be no chance of getting caught. One man among three hundred thousand. Who would notice him? After the exchange, Sweet would walk up behind him. The Ukrainian would feel nothing. The injection was being delivered in an air gun, used for vaccinations. It was painless and it would never be heard in all the commotion. He’d be dead in minutes. Sweet would retrieve the money bag and walk away. Simple.
“Mr. Todd? I have the results, sir.”
“Go on.”
“There’s one sample that is eliminated completely from paternity,” he said. “That would be Sample A.”
Todd smiled.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean that Sample B is the father, however. That can only be determined by DNA testing.”
“I understand. Thank you for your time. Leave your bill with my secretary.”
The tech left the paperwork on the desk and took his bag with him as he left, closing the door behind him.
Todd swiveled in his chair so he could look at his city. He didn’t need DNA testing for confirmation. Nick Mason was Patrick’s father.
Tomorrow was going to be a spectacular day indeed.
IT WAS LATE and Nick was tired. His nose throbbed again and he hadn’t brought any aspirin with him. He hadn’t heard from Sweet, but it didn’t matter, since Todd would be in federal custody before midnight tomorrow. The meeting with Owen had gone well. The manpower alone was beyond anything he’d been involved with, and he’d been in the FBI for almost nine years.
Nine years. Undercover, this time, for more than three. It was too long. Every book he read about the psychology of undercover operations said one year was too long, two years and most agents were ready for the funny farm. It was too easy to forget what was real. You live in the mud, you can’t help but get dirty.
He’d been thinking a lot about that since Jenny had told him he was Patrick’s father. Taking Todd down had been his focus for so long, it was almost like a reward, a bonus for a job well done. But was that what he wanted Patrick to see? It was different when it was just him. Now, though, he had a different kind of responsibility. He wanted Patrick to be proud of him, to grow up thinking his old man was someone strong, right, honest.
He walked slowly down the hall, past Todd’s suite to Patrick’s. He shouldn’t knock, it was nearly eleven-thirty and surely Mrs. Norris was sleeping. There was no question Patrick was in bed. But he knocked anyway.
In a surprisingly short time, the door swung open and Mrs. Norris, still dressed in one of her prim outfits, smiled broadly. “I was hoping it was you.”
“Oh?”
She stepped back to let him in. Then she shut the door and locked it. “I had a question, and I thought you might be the one to help.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Good. Wait just a moment.” She headed back toward her bedroom.
Nick walked around the spacious living room, looking at his son’s world. There was a fire truck parked by a stuffed panda, a Patrick-size desk complete with chair and play computer. Action figures, building blocks, plush toys, a telephone, a little piano. It was kid heaven.
Nick would never be able to give Patrick the kind of crap Todd did. He wouldn’t be able to hire nannies or nurses, or to send him to fancy prep schools. Once they were a family, Patrick would just be a normal kid. He’d have chores, because Nick knew a sense of responsibility was learned by doing. He’d go to public schools and he’d have to work for the money if he wanted a car. There would be no silver spoons in his kid’s mouth, and Nick had no problem with that. His goal wasn’t to raise a tycoon, but a good man. Someone worthy of his mother, which was going to be tough. On the other hand, with Jenny as his mom, how could he go wrong?
“Ah, isn’t that a fine fire truck?”
He looked up to see Mrs. Norris enter the room carrying a book. “It’s big.”
“Patrick loves it. He told me yesterday that when he grows up, he wants to be a fire truck.”
Nick cr
acked up. “I’ve heard worse goals.”
“May I ask,” she said, shifting to her right to she could see his nose more clearly, “what happened?”
“I ran into a fist. A strange fist at that.”
“Oh, dear. It looks quite painful.”
“It is.”
“Can I offer you an aspirin?”
“I’d be grateful.”
“Here,” she said, handing him the book. “I think this is the book we discussed, but I don’t understand the passage you told me about. On page thirty-five.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” he said. “My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“What is?” she asked. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
He opened the book, which he’d never heard of, and turned to page thirty-five. A note had been taped to the page. From Jenny.
Todd is meeting a man named Edward Potereiko tomorrow in a public place, my guess is the Strip near the El Rio. E.P. was at an arms show in 1999 selling weapons from the Ukraine. He’s not a nice man. The wedding is supposed to be at midnight, at the atrium in The Mystique. He’s leaving us here while he goes to the El Rio. That would be the best time to find us. Todd will be busy right up until the implosion, so he must be meeting E.P. after the implosion, just before he goes to The Mystique for the wedding.
Also, please make sure to take care of Mrs. Norris. She’s wonderful. Until tomorrow.
He closed the book slowly as he digested the information. Potereiko was the seller, he felt sure of it. He hadn’t heard the name before. It wasn’t on any of the lists from any of the international agencies. But they must have data on him. He had to get the information to Owen.
Mrs. Norris came back with the pills and a glass of water. After he took the aspirin, he smiled apologetically. “I’m gonna have to think about this for a bit. Nothing’s coming to me, sorry.”
“It’s all right, honestly.”
“Actually, I do have some notes I could jot down, if you have some paper?”
“Right here,” she said, going to Patrick’s desk. She picked up a pad of paper and a pen.
Nick wrote as quickly and succinctly as he could, advising Mrs. Norris that men would be by tomorrow to get her and Patrick. She should leave immediately, no questions. She’d be safe and so would the boy.
He handed her the pad. “I’ve got to go. But if I can, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I feel quite sure of it,” she said. “Let me walk you to the door.” She put her hand on his arm. As they crossed the room, she whispered, “Thank you, Nick. I appreciate all you’re doing.”
He nodded, not wanting to risk any more than he had to.
“And for what it’s worth, I think Patrick is very lucky to have such a wonderful father.”
He stopped to stare at her, but she pulled him along to the door.
“Nannies know these things,” she whispered.
“Where on earth did Todd find you?”
She gave her head a small shake. “My sister works for one of his general managers. At his hotel in Monaco.”
“He’s lucky you were available.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mason. I appreciate the compliment.”
Then he was in the hallway and the door closed behind him with a click. Something told him Jenny hadn’t told Mrs. Norris about him being Patrick’s father. That she had in fact just known. Which was a frightening thought, because if she’d known, maybe Todd had known, too.
“ARE YOU EXCITED about tomorrow?”
Jenny smiled at Todd over her glass of champagne. “More than you can imagine.”
“My imagination is pretty vivid.”
She raised her brows. “I know.”
Todd put his glass down. “No, I don’t think you do.”
His words sent a chill through her, even though they were sitting out on the patio and at eight-thirty, it was almost ninety degrees. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had, Todd. It’s extraordinary.”
“I wanted it to be special. You do know I love you. I have since the moment we met. All I’ve ever wanted is to give you the world on a platter.”
“And you have. Don’t think I don’t appreciate all you’ve done, Todd. I can hardly imagine my life without you.”
“And yet, you ran.”
She looked down at her hands. This was no time to be anything but compliant, submissive. “I was a fool.”
“Yes, you were.”
She raised her gaze. “But that’s all over now. I’m here. And tomorrow we’re going to be married.”
“Yes. Tomorrow we’ll take our relationship to the next level. We’ll be man and wife.”
“Mr. and Mrs. C. Randall Todd.”
He smiled and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“I’ve tried to make you happy, Todd. I’ve done everything I can to prove to you that I’m truly sorry. That I won’t do anything so stupid again.”
“I know you won’t. Are you finished, my love? Do you want coffee? More champagne?”
“No, thank you. I’ve eaten too much. I need to fit into my wedding dress.”
“I’m finished, also,” he said, putting his napkin on the table.
The blood in her body froze at the simple words. Something had shifted. His bonhomie had disappeared and in its place there was nothing but ice. Every instinct told her not to look at him, but she must. She had to pretend. To act as if he was simply done with his meal, that his mercurial change hadn’t occurred.
Slowly she lifted her eyes. And that’s when she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. It was like looking into the eyes of hell itself. He knew something. She could only imagine the worst.
“You should go to your room. Sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
As she opened her mouth to acquiesce, the sliding-glass door behind her opened and there stood her watcher. The other one. He was dressed impeccably in a pale blue silk suit. He stood at attention and yet he managed to give off an air of deference in front of the man himself.
Controlling her trembling, Jenny stood. Walked over to Todd’s side and kissed his cool cheek. He didn’t respond at all. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Todd sipped his coffee, his gaze facing the view, not her. But when she walked to the door, she could feel his eyes on the small of her back. Boring into her. Memorizing his target.
Chapter Sixteen
Jenny woke in her own bed at six o’clock in the morning on the Fourth of July. She’d also been up at four, two-thirty and midnight. She hadn’t closed her eyes until eleven forty-five.
Todd had scared her to death last night. The way he’d looked at her. He knew something. Her plan? Nick’s involvement? That Patrick wasn’t his?
She got up, determined to carry out her part as if nothing at all was wrong. Because this was Todd. And the truth of it was that he could have been that way for something entirely unrelated to her escape. She could have committed any kind of sin and she’d never know until he deigned to tell her. It could have been a look, her tone of voice, something she’d worn.
But she couldn’t afford to make one single mistake. Everything in her world was dependent on the success of this operation. Her freedom, her future with Nick. Her son’s life.
She went to the bathroom and started a bath, deciding to use some calming salts. Anything she could do to relax was a good thing. Even now, with hours to go, her heart beat so fast she had to be careful not to pass out.
Slipping off her nightgown, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes, lines around her mouth, pasty skin. She’d have to take considerable care with her makeup. But first, her bath. Then her hair. Finally the makeup, right before she’d put on the wedding dress. It would take torturous hours, during which she probably wouldn’t hear from Nick. She’d have to keep the faith, keep the belief that everything would be all right. What she would do, however, is sneak in to see Patrick as soon as she could. Just seeing him would relax her, at least
as much as she could relax under the circumstances.
As she lowered herself into the tub, her gaze caught on her ring. She had no qualms at all about taking it with her and cashing it in. He’d given it to her and she intended to build a bright, shiny new life with the proceeds. However, given the nature of the rescue and flight ahead of her, perhaps wearing it wasn’t the best idea. She had no idea where she was going, and flashing this baby around unsavory types might just get her in a whole new arena of trouble.
When she finished bathing, she’d put it somewhere safe. On her body. She’d sew it into her panties. There was a little sewing kit in the top drawer in the bathroom.
After that, she’d go through the rest of the contents in her overnight bag. She didn’t want to leave anything important behind.
She laid her head back on the bath pillow and closed her eyes. Blessed relief came in the form of Nick Mason. She pictured him in exquisite detail, which wasn’t hard in the least. She’d dreamed of him for almost three years.
He was so gentle with her. The way he looked into her eyes was almost reverent. It was easy to picture her life with Nick. The mornings filled with the rich scents of coffee and fresh bread. The hustle and bustle of getting Patrick ready for school. Private smiles over the sounds of cartoons. Maybe a little sister for Patrick.
Their nights would be filled with laughter, touching and a peace that would turn the most mundane tasks into miracles. Patrick would grow up healthy. Loved. Encouraged to follow his own path, to find his bliss.
Her new life would begin in a matter of hours. A real life, a real future. It was hard to believe it. For so long the reality of her days was all the colors and textures of fear. She’d been a refugee, a prisoner, a victim. No more. She would sing it from the rooftops. No more.
The water had grown cool; it was time to get out, to get on with the day. With her liberation.
NICK HAD GONE through the El Rio with the demolition crew and the reps from the fire department, and everything was a go. There really wasn’t any more to do inside the building. They were still putting up chicken wire around the perimeter to prevent any flying debris from getting into the crowd.
