Trouble with Nathan

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Laurel scared the shit out of them with a baseball bat.”

  Mac’s eyes lit up. “You’re all kinds of surprising, aren’t you?”

  “Jackson said something to me about you taking a deal to protect your own family,” Laurel said. “Did that involve Alastair?”

  “Nah.” Mac shook his head. “Totally different. I’ve had a Fed climbing up my ass for the better part of a decade. Convinced I stole a set of treasury plates while they were being transported between federal banks. He was in charge of the transfer, so he took a serious career hit. Got so bad, I couldn’t walk out of my house without him being there, following me. I was so distracted by him, I didn’t notice another agent had infiltrated my, well, let’s call them my workforce. I took twenty to life in exchange for immunity for everyone else involved.” He glanced around, a smile stretching his round face. “Not that I plan to serve all that time. Seeing the look on Agent Kolfax’s face that day when I entered my plea without having to admit to anything made it all worth it.”

  “Did you say Kolfax?” Laurel grabbed hold of Nathan’s other hand. He squeezed her fingers. “Isn’t he . . .”

  “Heard he finally got booted out of the agency,” Mac said. “Guess he stuck his nose into the Nemesis case down in your neck of the woods, Nathan. Don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

  “We think Kolfax is working for Manville,” Laurel stated before Nathan could answer.

  “Manville has an ex-Fed on his payroll?” Mac shook his head and for an instant, Nathan thought he saw pity in Mac’s eyes. “That’s a pretty far way to fall, even for a parasite like Kolfax. Man makes a change like that, he’s got nothing left to lose. Makes him especially dangerous.”

  “It might be time to put a tail on your tail,” Nathan told Laurel. He didn’t like the idea of Kolfax paying such close attention to Laurel.

  “I don’t think he hitched a ride on your private plane,” Laurel said. “Unless he hid in the wheel well.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past either Kolfax or Alastair,” Mac said as Jimmy, Mac’s escort guard, moved into sight as if telling them their time was up. “If Agent Kolfax couldn’t get to me directly, I have no trouble believing he’d take the law into his own hands. He knows my history. He knows I’m friends with your father. So yeah, I can see him joining forces with Manville, especially if his career is already over. Convincing him wouldn’t have been difficult. Damn. I might hate the son of a bitch, but I hope he’s smart enough to realize anyone working for Alastair usually ends up dead.”

  Nathan felt Laurel’s body tense. He squeezed his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, we know.” Yet another reason to keep Laurel close. Nathan frowned. Something else Mac said earlier echoed in his thoughts. He didn’t believe in coincidences, not where Alastair was concerned. And Alastair never came at an enemy directly. Nathan’s blood went cold and he had to force himself to concentrate on what Laurel said next, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that another death, another car accident, might not have been an accident after all.

  “In the meantime,” Laurel cleared her throat. “I can tell Jackson you and your family are safe, right?”

  “You tell Jackson not to worry. I take care of my own. And that includes you two. Give me a few hours to reach out to some friends and see what might be floating around out there. Alastair doesn’t come out until it’s endgame. If he’s shown his hand by taking photos of your family, there’s no predicting what he’ll do next.” Mac got to his feet and offered his hand to Nathan, who cupped the piece of paper from Mac’s palm into his own. “You take him down, Nathan. By any means necessary.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You look like you could use this.”

  Nathan stared at the massive slice of pepperoni pizza Laurel slid in front of him. She’d ditched the wig, removed the contacts, and scrubbed her face clean the second they’d driven free of the prison, almost as if she couldn’t wait to leave Heather Richards behind.

  “A beer would have been better.” As if alcohol would help get his thoughts in order. Thoughts that had been spinning around one another like an out-of-control tilt-a-whirl since the mention of his mother’s accident.

  “We’re still driving.” She sat across from him at the wooden table outside the pizzeria on Pier 39.

  The San Francisco tourist trap seemed the perfect respite after their visit with Mac. He needed the fresh air and something about the sound of barking sea lions and crowds brought him a sense of peace.

  “Trust me. Carbs make everything better.” She sank her teeth into her own slice. The way her eyes rolled back in her head had Nathan thinking of something other than carb loading.

  “So.” Nathan cleared his throat. “Did he live up to your expectations?”

  She plucked a piece of pepperoni free to nibble on. “Who?”

  “Who? Mac Price. I was surprised you weren’t bowing at his feet.”

  “Given our secret identities, I don’t think that would have gone over well with the warden.” She grinned. “He exceeded them. Not that I got to talk to him about the Widow’s Peak job. Can you imagine the rush he must have gotten wheedling his way into the upper echelon of Los Angeles society only to waltz out with more than ten million dollars’ worth of stock options? It was genius.”

  “It was reckless,” Nathan countered. But yes, brilliant, too.

  “How was Mac reckless? He gave them a chance to refuse to sign over that stock. That’s the essence of a good con. Give them every opportunity to distrust you and make them feel guilty when they do. Then, bang! You’ve got them where you want them. I wonder where that money is now?”

  “I doubt Mac will ever say, if he still has it. Personally, I’d like to know if he stole those plates Kolfax was in charge of.”

  “Kolfax.” Laurel’s mouth twisted as if the pizza had turned rotten. “He’s such an odd element in all this. Even if Alastair hadn’t told me he had someone keeping tabs on me, I would have noticed him. It’s not like he’s inconspicuous. Unless he wasn’t trying to be, which just raises a whole bunch more questions.”

  “Sounds to me like he and Alastair share the same tendencies toward obsession. Alastair with my Dad and Kolfax with Mac.” Nathan might have thought it sad, the way the former agent’s career had come to a skidding halt, if he hadn’t been witness to Kolfax’s treatment of his sister. If Nathan was convinced Kolfax had been doing his job, he might have given the former agent a pass, but his motives hadn’t seemed anywhere close to honorable. As far as Nathan was concerned, Kolfax had been one decision away from turning dirty. As far as Nathan was concerned, Kolfax deserved whatever he got.

  Nathan finally bit into his own pizza, reaching for his phone when his text message alert beeped.

  “Who’s that?” Laurel leaned forward to peek at his phone.

  “A computer tech friend of mine. Cassidy Wells. She’s done some freelance work for me. I wanted someone”—he struggled for the word—“discreet.”

  “Malcolm isn’t discreet?”

  “I’m not sure he can be. Not about . . . this.” The last thing he wanted to do was put his brother-in-law in the position of having to keep secrets from—or lie to—Sheila.

  “Is this something Mac said? Toward the end, right before we left.” She shrugged at his glimpse of surprise. “I’m not the only one with tells.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me about it before now.”

  “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.” She flinched, maybe from the hot cheese on her pizza, maybe from his unwillingness to voice what he feared. “That was a lot of information to digest. My main takeaway? Alastair’s even more of a son of a psycho than I gave him credit for. Thanks for not outing me to Mac. About getting tied up with Alastair.”

  “Wasn’t my place to tell him. Besides, I’m betting once Mac does some more of his investigating, he’ll find out on hi
s own.”

  “What is it you have Cassidy Wells digging up for you?”

  Nathan folded his arms across his chest, blinked up into the sun as if that could give him the answer he was looking for. “Mac said there are no coincidences where Alastair’s concerned. He also said he never comes at anyone directly.”

  “Yeah.” Laurel fanned her mouth and sat back in her chair, hooking her foot in the rung. “And?”

  “I asked Cassidy to dig up the police report on Olivia Manville’s car accident.”

  “Alastair’s wife?” Laurel pinched her lips and studied him. “She committed suicide, didn’t she?”

  “That’s what Mac said, but it’s how she died that’s bothering me.” He took a deep breath and felt a new stab of pain strike between his ribs. “My mother died in a car accident two years ago. On the freeway.” He met Laurel’s gaze. “She skidded into a pylon.”

  “And now you’re thinking it wasn’t an accident after all.” The sympathy in her eyes was clouded only by anger and it was that look, that moment, Nathan felt his heart slip. “You think Alastair had your mother killed?”

  “As we’ve come to realize, he’s capable of anything. Losing my mother nearly destroyed Dad. He hasn’t been the same.” Nathan winced. “A tailspin would be an understatement. He’s done things since that I couldn’t possibly begin to explain. Things that—”

  “Things that maybe his younger self might have done?”

  “How can I tell him?” Nathan scrubbed his hands over his face. “Hearing this, knowing Alastair might have been responsible for Mom’s death would be like losing her all over again. Not to mention he’d blame himself. He already feels guilty because he wasn’t with her. If it turns out she was killed in retaliation—”

  “Stop. Nathan, stop it.” She leaned forward and grabbed hold of his hands, squeezed his fingers until they went numb. “You don’t know anything for sure yet. Wait and see what Cassidy finds, okay?”

  “Yeah.” He was shaking. He didn’t shake. He didn’t crumble. But the idea Alastair Manville might have murdered his mother. He held even tighter to Laurel. “She’s going to send me copies of both my mother’s accident report and Alastair’s wife’s.”

  “If she can find them,” Laurel said. “That was almost forty years ago—”

  “If they exist, she’ll find them.” He’d worked with the young computer genius enough to know what she was capable of; the more complicated or impossible something seemed, the more Cassidy considered it a challenge.

  “Nathan?” He wasn’t accustomed to the hesitation he heard in Laurel’s voice. “Are you sure you really want to know the truth? Once you do, there’s no going back.”

  “There’s already no going back.” He appreciated her concern, but they’d moved past having many options. “There’s no coming out of this mess if I, if we, don’t know the truth about everything. No matter how much it might hurt.”

  “Your family is stronger than you give them credit for. They can take it.”

  “I hope so.” Because Nathan knew, deep down, he wasn’t wrong about this. Alastair Manville had murdered his mother. Which meant there wasn’t anything he wasn’t capable of.

  ***

  “I forgot to ask,” Laurel said as Nathan slid the keycard into the door of the Cambridge suite at the Fairmont in San Francisco after playing tourist the last few hours. “What was on that paper Mac slipped you at the prison?” She whistled as she stepped inside. Nathan hadn’t been joking about impressing her. She was used to nice accommodations—TransUnited always put her up in excellent hotels, but there was excellent . . . and then there was, well, this.

  The signature Fairmont flags could be seen outside the windows overlooking both the Grace Cathedral, one of the most beautiful churches in the city, and Huntington Park. With the fireplace, the plush sofa and chairs, and a stunning screen in the corner of the sitting room, she was almost afraid to sit down for fear of dirtying up the place.

  But she did sit and immediately pulled out her laptop.

  “You really don’t miss a trick, do you?” Nathan dropped their overnight bags—he’d declined help from the bellman downstairs yet still gave him a nice tip—onto the floor inside the door. “His son Rylan’s number. Any idea what you want to do for dinner?”

  “Not yet. I want to talk to Poppy and Joey.” She clicked open the program and dialed before slouching into the cushions. She bounced back up the second Joey’s face exploded on her screen. Just like that, everything seemed right with the world. “Hey, there’s my Jelly Bean.”

  “Hi, Mama!” Joey grinned an even bigger gap-toothed smile than usual. “I lost another tooth! And this one’s loose. Look.” She stuck her tongue against one of her baby teeth and pushed it all the way forward. “It’s only hanging by like one gooey thread. Poppy said the tooth fairy’s going to be able to retire after I’m done.”

  “Looks like. Did you have a good day?”

  “Uh-huh. I have some new friends. They look like him.” Joey pointed Burt out straight and Laurel glanced over her shoulder to find Nathan perched on the back of the sofa. “Hi!”

  “Hello, Joey. I’m Nathan. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Mama, he’s pretty!” Joey whispered in a not-so-whispery voice. “Nathan, Mr. Ben and Mr. Chris said to tell you hi and that everything is A-OK around here.” She wrinkled her nose. “They said we’re going on a trip tomorrow. And then we’re coming to see you! Why didn’t you tell me!”

  Laurel’s stomach dropped. Because she didn’t know. “Ah, Nathan? What—”

  “I heard from someone how much you love to swim, Joey. My friends are going to take you up to our family cabin in Tahoe where you and Poppy can do all kinds of things. Swimming, horseback riding, you can even learn to drive a boat if you want.”

  “I can?” Joey’s eyes went wide. “Mama, did you hear that? I can learn to drive a real boat! And Burt and I can ride a horse!”

  “They’re going to have a great, safe time.” Nathan threw his legs over the back of the sofa and dropped down beside Laurel, taking a hold of her hand out of camera sight. He squeezed. “You know, I have a niece who loves superheroes, Joey. Who’s your favorite?”

  “Um.” Joey cocked her head back and forth as Laurel felt her heart swell. All morning she’d been anxious to talk to her daughter, but she couldn’t have enjoyed herself more watching Nathan interact with her. He was just so good with . . . everyone. “I like that blond one with the hair,” Joey giggled. “He has that hammer thing that he whips around in the air.” She imitated the movement with Burt.

  “Ah, a Thor girl. I should have known.” Nathan sighed. “Well, I guess us pretty boys have to stick together.”

  “Do you know Thor?” Joey squealed.

  “Shhhh. It’s a secret,” Nathan whispered. “You know what else is a secret? Did Mr. Ben give you your new code word?”

  “Uh-huh.” Joey nodded so hard she almost bashed her head on her screen. “It’s—”

  “No, don’t tell me, it’s a secret, remember?” Nathan said. “Only very special people like your mom and Poppy can know it besides you and Mr. Ben and Mr. Chris. And make sure Burt knows it, too, okay?”

  “’Kay. Mama, I’m hungry. Can I go get a snack?”

  “Sure, baby. Is Poppy there?”

  “Yep! Here he is. Here, Poppy.” She shoved Burt the monkey into Poppy’s hands as she scooted off the chair and disappeared.

  “Laurel, what’s going on?” Poppy asked, and then did a double take when he spotted Nathan. “You’d be Nathan Tremayne I take it? The one responsible for turning my house into a missile silo? And what’s this about a vacation?”

  “Poppy,” Laurel cringed. “Taking a trip isn’t a bad thing.”

  “I’m not a fan of firearms, you know that, Laurel.”

  “It’s not forever,” she insisted. “And you lov
e Tahoe.”

  “This was my idea, sir.” Nathan nudged Laurel to the side to take over. “Laurel needs to know you and Joey are safe and my people will take good care of both of you. As soon as we get things under control, I’ll have them drive you both down.”

  “Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, girl, it’s bad, isn’t it?” Poppy said and Laurel closed her eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment she expected. This is where having people around made things . . . complicated. She hated complicated. Even when complicated—she glanced at Nathan—was so incredibly tempting.

  “It won’t be for long.” She hoped. She couldn’t live this way anymore. She couldn’t allow her family to live this way. As if this was living. “I might not be able to call for a while. Would you—” She blinked back a new rush of tears even as she swore she wouldn’t shed another. She couldn’t go on much longer . . . just . . . existing. “Would you just please tell Joey how much I love her and that I’ll be home soon. For good.”

  “For good?” Poppy said with a sharpness that cut through her heart. “You mean it?”

  “She means it,” Nathan said. “You have my word.”

  “Well, then, I’d best let the two of you go so you can take care of whatever this is. As for me, I’ve got some dinner to fix for these boys of yours before we leave in the morning. Good night, Laurel. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Poppy.” Laurel pressed a kiss to her fingers then against the screen as it went blank. “I hate Manville,” she whispered. “I hate him so much for everything he’s stolen from me.” Even if it was her own fault for getting into this mess in the first place.

  “Something far more valuable than whatever you stole from him, that’s for sure. Tell me something.” Nathan leaned back on the sofa and drew her fingers in between his. “Were you that cute as a kid or is she an anomaly?”

  “I was a homely little thing, actually. And don’t fall in love with my kid.” She tried to pull free of his grasp but he wasn’t letting go. If anything, his hold tightened and so did her heart. She couldn’t afford this, couldn’t take the chance, couldn’t let herself want . . .