Part of her wouldn’t change anything. If presented with the same decision today, she’d undoubtedly make the same choice. Though she’d lost her chance to be normal and the violence and deceit had preyed upon her psyche, she’d honored and avenged her family.
Her heart, along with her knees, softened at his righteous anger.
She cleared her throat. “I did what I wanted. I was only nineteen, but I knew what they were doing.”
“You realized after they trained you what they were doing.”
“Maybe. But I knew from the first there was a catch.” She shrugged. “It was worth it.”
“Yes, I imagine it was. Revenge is a powerful emotion.”
She had the feeling the point had arrived. “You know who’s after you, don’t you?”
“I think so.”
“Dammit, Tremaine, you might have told me before I sent my team running around in circles.”
“I needed to be sure I was right—for obvious reasons. I wanted you to double-check me. I still need you to do that. But I will tell you my suspicions.”
For a second, Jade actually hesitated. The more she was with this man, the more she learned about him, the closer she could feel herself drawing to him. She didn’t want to be closer to him.
No, that wasn’t completely honest. She shouldn’t be closer to him.
She’d made a critical mistake once before with a client. The results hadn’t been pretty. While she hadn’t crawled into bed with Senator Kilpatrick, she’d certainly let his stories of persecution and misunderstanding sway her emotions.
And he’d rewarded her with betrayal and humiliation.
“Jade?”
She crossed to the sofa and dropped next to him. “You think you’ve got more drama than me?” She waggled her fingers in a come-on gesture. “Let’s hear it.”
Naturally, he smiled.
6
“FOUR MONTHS AGO,” Remy began, “a man called me and offered me money for a family heirloom.”
“How much money?”
“A hundred thousand dollars.”
She whistled. “Who was the man?”
Though the information he was about to reveal was important to his case, he also recognized that he wanted Jade to know him. Not the rumors or the outright lies. The real deal.
Or as real as he could be.
It didn’t seem to matter that the timing was lousy, that being surrounded by security guards, cops and colleagues made their attraction awkward. His instincts screamed that this thing between them wasn’t just physical.
Some part of her called to him. Was it the loneliness she tried to cover with aggression? Was it her quiet competence? Was it her strong character? Of her lack of patience for anything or anyone lacking in honor?
Or did he simply admire the way she’d taken her life in her own hands and made it into what she needed, even when fate had handed her pain and disaster?
“Peter Garner.”
She narrowed her eyes, obviously remembering the name from his suspect list. “The art historian and dealer in San Francisco. You were raised there. Did you know him growing up?”
“No. I know him because I think he was responsible for the death of a family friend.”
“Responsible?”
“He either murdered him, or had one of his employees do so.”
“Who was the friend?”
“His name was Sean Nagel. He was a thief and not a particularly good one, since he was convicted of burglary several times in his life.”
“Clearly he didn’t teach you.”
Her dry comment cheered him. Her moral stand on his former profession was a big obstacle between them. If he ever expected to explore their attraction, they had to find some middle ground there.
“No, he certainly didn’t. But he once came to see me and asked for the same heirloom. He said it belonged to him.”
“Ah.”
“Garner’s phone call was definitely a lightbulb moment. I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life trying to get definitive proof of who killed Nagel, and why the heirloom is so important.”
“And instead of a hundred thousand dollars, you get shot.”
“It certainly looks that way.”
“Is the heirloom worth that much?”
“I don’t see how. It’s a silver signet ring with an onyx stone in the center.”
Jade angled her head. “This old family friend…Sean Nagel…”
Remy stiffened. Was he a friend? He remembered the coldness, the emptiness he’d seen in the man as he’d stared at him from across the table.
“He came to see you at the orphanage when you were fifteen,” she continued. “You told the nuns that he hadn’t known your family.” Her eyes widened. “You lied to nuns?”
“I see Frank has been digging.” But then he hadn’t found out anything more than he should know. “And I didn’t lie. Sister Mary Katherine sat right beside me during the meeting. She thought Nagel was a hoodlum, and she was the one who came up with the story to tell everyone else.”
“Smart lady. So, how are Nagel, Garner, you and this ring connected?”
“I’m not sure.” He suspected, but he hesitated in telling everything. He wanted Jade and her team to focus on the facts and let the investigation flow from there.
“You’re all thieves,” she said, watching him closely. “Or, at least, once were.”
“Garner still is. He has an extensive smuggling-and-burglary operation that includes selling stolen property.”
“Did you ever run into him when you were stealing?”
“Several times. We each knew what the other was doing, but we played word games and danced around admitting anything. And, of course, I’ve kept close tabs on him and the other two men on my suspect list for many years.”
“But you never found any proof that he killed Nagel.”
“No.”
“You said the ring was a family heirloom. Who did it originally belong to?”
“My father.”
“There’s no father’s name listed on your birth certificate.”
Oh yeah, Frank had dug deep. “No, there isn’t.” He linked his hands, not wanting to go back, but knowing he had to. “You obviously know that when I was six months old my mother dropped me off at the orphanage and said she couldn’t care for me by herself.
“She was a struggling waitress,” he continued, “without any living relatives that I ever found. She’d obviously been abandoned by my father. That alone might have been enough to cause a young woman to give up her child to what she supposed would be a better life.
“And I flourished within the orphanage. I made friends easily, and I was quick in school. Very early on, I realized my ticket to freedom was my brain.”
“Not your smile?” she asked in mock surprise.
He grinned. “That came later. For a while, I studied hard and kept in good favor with the sisters. Until Nagel came to see me and opened up my past. After that I was even more intrigued by the ring that was my only link to my nameless father. I wanted some answers.”
“And the nuns weren’t giving them.”
“I don’t think they knew any more than I did, but they refused to let me investigate.”
“Let me guess…you didn’t bide your time quietly in your room like a good altar boy and wait until they booted you out at eighteen to start snooping.”
He liked that she understood him so well already. She may not like him, or what she’d hear, but she’d know. And, hopefully, accept. “No, I certainly didn’t. And the stakes were raised significantly when Nagel was murdered near the waterfront, three days after visiting me.”
She jolted. “Three days?”
“His visit to me had triggered something ugly in his life. As you can imagine, Sister Mary Katherine was even more adamant that I wasn’t to get involved. She kept insisting to me that it was a case of mistaken identity, that he wasn’t a family friend.”
Jade frowned. “But the ring. You d
id have it. Clearly he knew something about you, about where—or who—you came from.”
“I thought so, too. But Sister Mary Katherine had no intention of letting her prize student get involved in a murder mystery. So I started sneaking out at night.”
Jade rolled her eyes, but he thought he detected a touch of affection in the gesture. “Naturally.”
He continued his story by explaining to her about the library at the local university, which was open twenty-four hours to accommodate students. He’d taken advantage and begun his very first investigation there. At first, he’d learned very little. The police inquiry went nowhere, and nobody seemed to care that former felon Sean Nagel had died. He was divorced, listed in the obits as having no children, and his ex-wife certainly wasn’t Remy’s mother.
Remy’s research into the ring hadn’t gone any smoother. Though he’d found similarly designed rings in books about antiques, the one he had was clearly a cheap imitation. He’d been distracted and enthralled by those books about antiques. He’d moved on to paintings, sculptures and jewelry. He’d been fascinated by their history and beauty and vowed he’d own such wonderful works someday himself.
And the allure of being out at night on his own, released from the comforting bubble where he’d lived and in control of his destiny for the first time in his life, was more exciting than he’d anticipated.
“I loved the freedom, the darkness, even the danger that lurked on the streets.”
“When did you start stealing?”
Trust Jade to call it what it was. “I ran with a gang of other boys my age for a while. They fooled around with vandalism. A couple of them were into drugs. But I’d been raised on the certainty of the fires of hell, so I kept myself clean.
“Until I learned my friend John’s father beat him. He longed to escape, but was too frightened and too poor to try. One day, the father found John and me playing cards on the street corner. He snatched him by the arm, and the terror in John’s eyes as he looked at the man who’d fathered him tore me to pieces. I tried to intervene, and got punched in the face for my efforts. But before he dragged John away, I swiped his watch. Which turned out to be a Rolex. I have no idea if his father had money he kept from his family, or if he’d stolen it himself, but it financed John’s escape to L.A.”
He watched her face closely for a reaction—a judgment—but she simply looked at him in return.
“It was so easy,” he continued. “I took what I wanted, gave it to someone who needed it. My skill improved, and it became more natural. Did I know it was wrong? Of course. And yet…I convinced myself I was balancing the scales of injustice. I was redistributing things to those who needed them more.”
She smirked. “Like Robin Hood?”
“So I fancied myself. I don’t regret most of what I did. Maybe I should. Maybe someday I will.” He shook aside any lingering remorse for those he had wronged and the deep-seated worry about why he’d turned to crime in the first place. He’d been young, arrogant and foolish at times, but he’d convinced himself he was in the right. He couldn’t do it over. “I did what I thought should be done. I stole and gave. Occasionally, I stole and kept.
“I became a successful art dealer—both legitimate and not. I worked in museums and galleries to further my interest and education. I even dipped briefly into designing security systems.”
Her jaw tensed as her eyes narrowed. “So you could break in later.”
“Not at all. I never took from friends, Jade. I know that seems like a strange code to live by, but that’s what I did. To admit all, however, I must say it began because my boss caught me breaking into his gallery. I wasn’t doing it to steal anything. I’d simply forgotten my briefcase.”
“So, instead of calling someone and asking for help, you broke in.”
“Well, it wasn’t that difficult, and in the end, I saved everybody a lot of time and money. I told my boss I’d found security breaches and thought I’d see what happened if I tried to break in. The story worked, he laughed about it with his high-dollar friends, and I eventually helped many of them with their own security issues.” He angled his head, an idea he’d never considered suddenly occurring to him. “Maybe I was destined for law enforcement after all.”
“You just think like a criminal. That’s why it was easy for you to break in.”
“Well, yes, but isn’t that what you do?”
“All the time. When I’m working venue security I always look at the place as if I’m on the outside looking in, as if I’m raging angry with somebody and have to get to him.” Her gaze cut his way. “Though it’s easier with some clients than others.”
“Then you’ll be happy to hear my securities career came to an end as computers became more complicated. I’ve never really had the knack for that. I prefer something more hands-on.”
“Like a lock pick.”
He smiled. She really was coming to understand him. “Exactly.”
“Did you really try to steal the Crown Jewels?”
“Good God, no. Too high profile. And what would I do with them? Wear them? Sell them?” He shook his head. “Way too hot.” He leaned toward her and trailed his finger down her nose. “Though sometimes hot can be good.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t try to distract me now. I bet you’re just getting to the good parts.”
The parts that were left didn’t get good. They got worse.
He stood and crossed the room, staring out the window onto the vibrant, fast-moving city below. “Do you believe life runs in a circle?”
“Seems to runs in a line to me. You’re born, you live, you die.”
“Not for me. I’ve had many lives. Most of them pushed below the surface. It was fine for me. I liked living on the edge. But sometimes the things you do circle back. Like karma, if you believe in that sort of thing.
“My old friend John—the one I’d helped escape from his father—had always lived life by the book the way you do. Since moving to L.A. he’d made himself into a successful lawyer. An assistant district attorney.”
“You’re friends with a D.A.?”
“I was. He was gunned down outside his office four years ago.”
Behind him, he heard her suck in a breath. Then, quietly, she said, “You joined the NSA almost four years ago.”
“Yes. My past was suddenly my present. The ugliness I’d transformed into success seemed dirty again. I was convinced he was killed because of me, because he was one of few people I’d kept in touch with through both my legitimate and illegitimate careers. I had had lunch with him the day before. Had one of my old enemies seen us together? Had the past I’d so carefully covered somehow been brought into the light?”
“He was a D.A.”
“I know. It could have been anyone. And it turned out to be a gang retaliation. But initially, there were no leads. So, because of my guilt, I made a terrible mistake.” He shook his head, amazed still at his stupidity and brashness. “I went to the police for help.”
“And they dug into your past.”
He still remembered the moment he’d faced the stone-cold FBI agents and contemplated the fear of losing everything he’d worked and sacrificed for. He’d broken the law, and now his sins were coming around to bite him. Jade—along with the nuns—would have said it was justice. Instead, he’d felt betrayed. “They didn’t know everything, but they’d found some coincidence of places I’d been when certain items had gone missing. They knew a little, and suspected a whole lot more.”
“So they offered you a deal—prosecution or using your unique services for the good of your country.”
“Yes.”
“And now the past is coming back again.”
“It seems so.”
“Nagel still doesn’t rest in peace, a murderer is still out there, but you still have the ring.”
He nodded.
“With you?”
He didn’t even pause as he lied. “No.”
“But you can get to i
t.”
“Yes.”
She sighed, obviously sensing he wasn’t going to give up its location. “So we start with Nagel and work our way forward. We continue our investigation into your shooting. Maybe we’ll find a way to meet in the middle.”
He finally turned from the window to face her. “About us, too?”
JADE FOUGHT TO focus on her client, not the man before her.
The client was just something to be protected. Like a vase or a building. The man had faults and weaknesses, admirable qualities and deep wells of strengths, intelligence and loyalties.
She’d expected to be repelled by his past. She’d expected to disagree with his every decision and choice. And while his path certainly wouldn’t have been the one she’d choose, she admired him on some level.
A dangerous opinion for the compassionate woman who lurked beneath the unemotional, professional bodyguard.
“I’m solving your case,” she said as she stood.
“And that’s all?”
“We shouldn’t—”
He shook his head. “Regrets come later.” He walked toward her, his gait as smooth and elegant as ever. Now that she knew the struggle behind it, she appreciated his movements even more. “Don’t think about should or shouldn’t. What do you want?”
She wanted him. Too much. She tried to tell herself she didn’t like or respect him. She fought to remind herself she was doing her job, then heading home as quickly as possible. She tried to regain the resentment she’d felt when Lucas had first said Tremaine’s name.
Instead, she felt heat and need. Compassion and curiosity. How was she supposed to fight that? “I want to know why you hired me. Because I’m good at my job, or because of your, uh…”
“Crush?”
She felt her face heat.
His gaze intense, he cupped her jaw. “What do you think?”
The security box beside the suite door beeped twice. Jade stepped away from Tremaine just before the door flew open.
Frank and Mo strode through the opening. “Okay, people, the office is clear.” They both stopped as they spotted Jade and Remy. “Problem?”
A Breath Away Page 7
