Edge of Sight

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Wait.” He put his hand on hers and leaned over the console to kiss her. She froze, letting his lips touch hers, then backed away.

  A little smile tugged at his mouth. “Just trust your judgment, Sammi. Especially where I’m concerned.”

  “I am,” she said coolly, reaching for the door, but he closed his hand over her arm, stopping her.

  “No, you’re not. You’re second-guessing. Just trust your instincts because they’re good.”

  So was her hearing.

  Saying nothing, she stepped out of the car, took a slow, steadying breath, and let Zach drop a casual arm around her as they walked up to the side door. They appeared very much like boyfriend and girlfriend, running an errand together.

  The door was locked, but her key still worked. In a moment, they were inside the dimly lit, sparkling clean kitchen of Paupiette’s. The stoves were all off, the ovens cool, the stations shiny, the floor waxed.

  The alarm pad on the wall behind the kitchen door didn’t even blink.

  “Hello?” Sam called, to no response.

  The went farther inside, and Sam pointed to the large swinging door that led to the cellars. “Wine vault’s down there, about ten feet to the right of the stairs. But the key is down that hall,” she said, indicating the throughway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. She’d already told him which wineglass shelf was used to hide the spare vault key.

  As they crossed the kitchen, she glanced toward the chef’s office, the door closed, and no light on underneath.

  “Call him again,” Zach said. “We’re not alone in here.”

  “Keegan? Are you here?”

  The door from the dining room slapped open, hitting the wall and making Sam jump two inches in the air.

  Keegan Kennedy breezed in, then froze at the sight of Zach, taking a half step backward before his gaze moved to Sam and his expression relaxed into a welcoming smile.

  “Samantha! I knew you’d be back.” He reached out both arms. “I’ve missed you.”

  She returned the hug, and added an extra squeeze. They’d all been affected by the tragedy, but Keegan was the de facto “leader” of the restaurant, and she imagined he was hurting more than the rest of the staff.

  “Hey, Keegan, it’s good to see you, too,” she told him. “I’m just here to get my check. And this is Zach Angelino.”

  They shook hands and exchanged a quick greeting. “I have your check, Sam, in the office. Come with me.”

  They had a plan for what to do if someone was in the kitchen, and Zach stuck with it. “I’m going to use the facilities,” he said, heading toward the dining room.

  “Not there,” Keegan said. “Use the employee’s bathroom in the back.”

  “Oh, don’t you dare make him use that bathroom,” Sam said quickly. “You have to see the one in the dining room.” She gave him a nudge in that direction. “It’s gorgeous, as bathrooms go. It was in Boston Magazine. Go have a look while I talk to Keegan.”

  “It’s closed,” Keegan said. “Come this way. The employees’ bathroom is over there, on the other side of the break room.”

  Sam opened her mouth to argue, but picked up Zach’s silent message as he followed the chef. Something like… Don’t argue, just go with the flow.

  She did, following Keegan to the chef’s office, where Keegan had a desk as well. Zach disappeared toward the small room they called “the lounge” even though no one ever lounged there very much. Sam gave him a look over her shoulder, but he just ambled on toward the bathroom as if nothing were amiss.

  “So,” she said as they reached the chef’s office door. “How have things been, Keegan?” Her job would be to keep him talking for as long as it took Zach to get to the wine vault, find the camera, and remove the chip.

  “Fine.” Keegan opened the door to his office, a long, narrow room with one desk facing the wall, and a few shelves and cabinets. On the empty wall was a huge bulletin board that was usually stocked with menus, printouts from websites, pictures from magazines, quotes from chefs.

  Now it was covered with newspaper articles about Joshua Sterling’s death.

  She recoiled at the sight. “Why do you have all that up there?”

  “A man was killed in this restaurant, Sam. It’s news.” He sat behind the desk, unlocking the top drawer.

  She took the chair next to his desk, the one usually reserved for employees getting chewed out for huge mistakes. She’d never been in that particular hot seat with him or the chef, as she always stayed out of controversy and just did her job… until the night Sterling was murdered.

  Her gaze shifted to the wall, landing on the silver-haired victim, in a picture with his wife. Sam had avoided reading a lot of the press coverage, and hadn’t seen that story. Devyn Sterling was even prettier in real life than she was in that picture, but there was definitely something distant and cool about her. Not the kind of woman she’d imagine a gregarious man like Joshua would marry.

  “You should have listened to Rene that night.”

  Keegan’s comment pulled her back to the moment, and confused her. Everyone knew she found the body that night, but no one knew she actually witnessed the murder. Only the police had that information, and, in fact, only a few of the main investigators on the case were supposed to know. But the way Keegan sounded, she wondered just how much he knew.

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought that a million times,” she admitted, keeping her answer purposefully vague. “Although someone had to find the body.”

  “It would have been better if it had been Rene.”

  “What would have been better?” A deep male voice startled her with the question, coming from the kitchen.

  Keegan gave her an amused look. “No need to be skittish, Sam. It’s just Rene.” He ripped the check out of the book. “Here. We’re in here, Rene. Look who’s come to see us.”

  Rene opened the door wider and gave Sam a brief nod with no smile of greeting. No warmth like he’d shown her at the police station. “You’re not going to work here anymore, are you?” he asked.

  “Great to see you, too,” she said drily. They’d never liked each other, and apparently the tragedy of having a murder in the wine cellar and another server killed in a gangland slaying wasn’t going to change that.

  “Rene, why are you here?” Keegan asked. “You get one day off. Take it.”

  “I need a bottle of wine I left in the cellar last night that I promised to a customer.” He held up his key and Sam’s heart dropped a little.

  “Before you do, Rene,” she said, standing and giving him a warm, if completely fake, smile. “I’d like to talk to you. Privately.”

  “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Keegan.”

  As long as it took five more minutes, she’d tell them her life story. “I just wanted to say I was sorry… about that night.” She had no idea where this was going, but prayed it would take a long time to get there. “It was crazy, you know? Do you remember? What was going through your head that night?”

  Rene narrowed brown eyes at her. “Nothing, Sam. Nothing was going through my head.” He pivoted and headed out.

  “Wait, Rene. Please, I want to talk to you.” She threw a look over her shoulder at Keegan as she followed Rene. “Thanks,” she said, waving the check. “But I really want to talk to him.”

  He was up in an instant, a surprisingly strong hand on her arm. “Let it go, Sam.”

  “I… I can’t.” He’ll run right into Zach. “We’ve always had a contentious relationship, and now that… someone has died, you know, I have a whole different perspective…” She heard the cellar door whoosh open and his footsteps on the stairs. Shit. “I just want to talk to him.”

  “No, Sam, he’s really struggling. He’s had a horrible time with this. I think he’s this close to quitting, and I can’t afford to hire someone else. If you talk to him, he might just break down.”

  “Sam?” She turned at the sharp sound of Zach’s voice. “Is
there a problem here?” He took three long steps into the office and gave a fierce look at the much smaller maître d’. “Get your hand off her.”

  Keegan let go, clearly aware of the reshifting of power. “Just leave Rene alone, Sam.”

  She would now. “All set?” she asked Zach.

  “You have your check?” he asked.

  When she nodded, Zach looked at Keegan. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Kennedy.” He put a strong arm on her shoulder and led her out.

  “Zach,” she whispered as they crossed the kitchen. “What—”

  “Outside.”

  She kept pace with him, silent until they were in the car. Then she couldn’t contain her questions. “Did you get it? Did he see you? Do you know how—”

  He put a single finger over her mouth. “I got it.”

  She fell back against the headrest. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Wow, he was good.

  He had his phone out and speed-dialed. “Hey, it’s me,” he said quietly. “Where and when?” He listened briefly, then ended the call without responding.

  “Gabe?” she asked when he hung up.

  “He’s way the hell out in western Mass, so it looks like we’re taking a drive.”

  “I don’t mind. I have no desire to hole up in that house and jump at every sound I hear.”

  He gave her a sexy, sideways glance. “Holing up in that house alone doesn’t sound so bad.”

  She stiffened, and knew that he noticed. “We can’t just do… that all day.”

  “We can’t? I seem to recall—”

  She held her hand out, halting him. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

  “Yeah, I thought so,” he said on an exaggerated exhale.

  “You thought what so?”

  “When you left the kitchen, you stopped in the living room, right? Did something before you went upstairs. Overheard a conversation, which, as we already established, is not eavesdropping.”

  She managed not to let her chin hit her chest. He had told her he had amazing auditory skills, so it was entirely possible that he knew she was still in hearing distance of the conversation. “Maybe. What difference does it make, Zach? Information is power, so I’m feeling… strong.”

  “Good information is power. Bad information can screw up your whole day.”

  “Don’t try and worm out of this, Zach. I know what I heard you say to your cousin. ‘When this is over, I’m going to run like hell.’ ”

  “Yep, that’s what I said.” He started to put the car in drive, then stopped, turning to her. “We were talking about Vivi and the Guardian Angelinos. That’s who I want to run like hell from.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. Damn if she didn’t want to believe him with every fiber of her being.

  He cupped her jaw in his hands, leaning close. “Samantha Fairchild. Please stop doubting me and stop doubting yourself. Some things you don’t have to second-guess. You don’t have to think twice, not about me.”

  Her whole body ached, truly ached, to believe him. It would be so easy; it would be so wonderfully easy and good. But…“I just don’t want to hurt that way ever again.”

  “I won’t let you.” He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “I swear I won’t.”

  When he released her, she closed her eyes and gave up the fight with a sigh of resignation. “Okay. But I still don’t want to go back to Jamaica Plain if we don’t have to.”

  “We don’t have to,” he said, pulling out of the alley parking lot. “I have a great idea. All you have to do is relax and be pleasantly surprised.”

  She shook her head, the adrenaline from the trip to Paupiette’s starting to fade. “I still can’t believe you managed to pull that off and not run smack into Rene when he came down the stairs.”

  “I didn’t go back up the stairs; I went through the back alley entrance. It’s really easy and fast to get back up that way.”

  “That was lucky.”

  “And brilliant.”

  She smiled, thinking about the route he took. “You know, it’s possible that killer did just that and was back in the restaurant eating dinner or drinking while I was in the basement screaming for help.”

  “More than possible,” he agreed. “Easy.”

  So maybe that man she saw pull the trigger was right there in the restaurant all along. Maybe he was someone… she knew.

  CHAPTER 18

  The handoff took place at a gas station in Framingham, in a light, misty rain, without either man acknowledging the other. Zach put gas in the Mercedes, leaning casually against the pump as a dark blue Porsche, almost as old as the car he was driving, pulled up and waited his turn. Zach never even looked, but let the chip he’d stolen, and had wrapped in a tissue, rest on the top of the pump. As he drove away, he sneaked a peek at the driver of the Porsche, recognizing Gabe under that baseball cap and behind the shades, seeing him slip the tissue into his palm.

  Zach never looked again as he pulled out onto the Mass Pike.

  “I thought you were going to give the chip to Gabe?” Sam asked, surprised. “You said we were meeting him in Framingham.”

  “I just did,” he said. “And that’s just how good a spook he is.”

  She looked suitably stunned. “And you,” she added. “Why all the way out here? Why not do that secret exchange right in Boston? Or can’t you tell me because it’s classified information?”

  “Yeah, top secret.” Zach remembered the dark clouds in Gabe’s eyes when they’d talked about the family, joked about Gabe’s mother missing him. “Honestly? My guess is he wanted to drive past the house in Sudbury.”

  “Drive past it?”

  “Just to see it. He misses them, too.” More than the son of a bitch would ever admit. “Did you want to see him again? Verify my story? Get proof I really was referring to Vivi’s company when I said I’d run like hell?”

  “I believe you.”

  He made a little air pump with his fist. “Yes. Progress.”

  She laughed, already more relaxed. And with each mile away from Boston, she seemed to unwind more. Until her phone buzzed with a text.

  “Oh, no,” she said, reading it. “I don’t know what your surprise is, Zach, but we have to go back to Boston. Billy needs me.”

  “Can it wait?”

  She read the text again, shaking her head. “He says it’s important. But my real worry is that if he’s texting now, then he didn’t go to work. And after what his parole officer wrote to me, it looks like maybe he has some explaining to do.”

  “I have some explaining to do, too,” he said, reaching over to try to take the phone. “I’m taking priority today.”

  She laughed, keeping the phone out of reach. “Who gave you priority?”

  “Honestly? Billy did. Tell him I’m explaining something to you and he’ll understand.”

  “He will? What did you two talk about yesterday?”

  “Now, that’s classified.” Speaking of classified information, what he wanted to tell her was just that. But he ached to tell her anyway. “Look, he’s had you all this time, worrying about him, loving him…” He swallowed, surprised at how truly envious he was at that. “Now I want you.”

  Her eyes were moist as she looked at him, but her pretty lips were easing into a smile. “How do you do this to me?”

  He grinned. “You never could say no to me.”

  “Sadly, that’s true. All right, Zach, you win. I’ll tell him I’ll come over later. Where are we going?”

  “I’ll give you a hint. We’ve been there before.”

  She frowned. “We have? We didn’t go very many places.”

  “Does a green Army blanket ring a bell?”

  “Wachusett Reservoir.” Her face lit up. “That was a great day, wasn’t it?”

  The joy in her voice kicked his gut a little. “Sex in the sunshine, yes, it was.”

  “I can’t believe we did that. By the spillway? Remember?”

  “I want to g
o where we have a nice memory, Sam.” The waterway was nestled in the middle of Massachusetts, surrounded by forests and country roads, and almost no houses. The day they’d spent up there had been burned in his memory, and was another that kept him sane when war raged around him. “And I’d like to make a new one.”

  Her expression softened. “Okay, let me just call Billy.”

  “Tell him you’re with Zaccaria.” He shot her a look. “By the way, I can’t believe you told him my Italian name.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I told him all about you.”

  “No doubt he heard all about the postcard that never came.”

  “The fucking postcard,” she corrected. “Of course he did. Oh, I have to leave a message.” She held up a finger and talked into her phone. “Hey, Billy, it’s Sam, returning your call. I’m on my way—”

  He put a hand on her leg and squeezed, shaking his head in warning. “Don’t give away your location,” he whispered.

  “On my way… out. I’m with Zach, so we’ll be over later.” At Zach’s warm look, she added, “Much later. Gimme a call and let me know what’s up. You know I can talk if you need me, Billy. Bye.”

  Behind him, a semi hauled ass, and Zach eased over to the right lane, and the truck did the same. Just pass, Zach mentally ordered the driver, checking out the dark green and silver grille that took up his whole rearview mirror, the Peterbilt logo practically in his backseat. Swearing softly, Zach went back into the left lane, picked up speed, and headed to the 495 exit to take it north up to rural Massachusetts.

  The truck did the same. A little pissed, Zach weaved through some traffic, flying past another eighteen-wheeler spitting waterspray.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked, glancing to the back.

  “Just testing someone who’s driving erratically. That’s always the first thing you look for when on patrol. Anyone acting inconsistent, anything even slightly out of the norm.”

  She instantly seemed more on guard, the lightness of a few minutes ago disappearing with a perceived threat. “How do you decide what’s out of the norm?”

  “Listen to my gut instinct.” He swerved into the other lane, taking a small opening between cars, then back again, flooring it. The semi stayed with him, and Zach caught the name of Hanrahan Produce on the side. He’d have to tell Uncle Nino never to buy their stuff.