Alias

by Amy J. Fetzer

  “Stay cool, sister.” Cleo gave her a straight-arm tap on the shoulder, then turned away.

  Krissie walked up. “Jack’s a good man.”

  “I know, Krissie, I know.”

  She and Jack said goodbye and got back in the car. Steve climbed the ladder on the warehouse wall near the doors, then checked the area before he opened the door. They drove out sedately.

  Darcy would have liked to see Cleo at the safe house in Utah, but too many people lived there, and Cleo’s physical appearance was harder to disguise. Although the network had operated in secret for years, Darcy couldn’t risk Cleo’s life. She was the first tangible witness to the conspiracy.

  If anyone found her, they’d kill her.

  When Darcy and Jack arrived at her place, it was late afternoon. Megan was at the house, and when Charlie saw her, he flew at her. Then Jack walked in and Darcy was suddenly ignored. Megan walked up beside her and they both watched Charlie and Jack. “So does Jack still get my vote?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Ah, I haven’t seen that look on you before.”

  Darcy didn’t comment on the smile she had when Jack was near. Was it a feeling of relief or something more? “He knew who I was all this time, Meg.”

  Megan blinked. “Oh, hell.”

  “He gets the good-guy award for that, huh?”

  “What about Kel?”

  “I’ll break it off with him tomorrow. I have to call the Cassandras and tell them what happened first.”

  “You were missed at the shop. Mrs. Burkewater is complaining.”

  “Mrs. Burkewater always complains. I’ll take care of her on Tuesday, give her twenty percent off. She’ll love it.” Darcy hated being away from her salon, but with all the girls working for her, she didn’t have to be there. She did have to be there for Charlie, though.

  Megan leaned closer to whisper, “Kel was in looking for you, by the way.”

  “When?”

  “The day you left for Vegas.”

  He knew she was there, Charlie had said as much to him. Her gaze moved to Jack, and she wondered if she should tell him about seeing Kel in Vegas. Or rather, that she thought she’d seen Kel. And if he’d been there, why hadn’t he made himself known?

  Jack’s cell phone buzzed and he answered it, setting Charlie down. She heard him curse under his breath.

  “Give it to someone else.”

  Darcy moved to him, covering the phone. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. It’s a lead on a bounty headed west to California.”

  “Take it, we’ll be fine. Right here.”

  Jack muttered into the phone and shut if off. “I don’t like this. It’s different now.”

  “Between you and me, yes, but between Maurice and me, it’s the same, and with the Cassandras. I have to tell them tonight, Jack. Everything. Besides, you can’t just suddenly stop your life for me.”

  “I would to keep you safe, Darcy.”

  A little tickle of giddy pleasure shot through her every time he said her name.

  Charlie tugged on Jack’s pant leg. He looked down. “Are you staying?”

  Jack looked at Darcy as if waiting for her to say something.

  “Yes, Charlie, he is.”

  Charlie whooped, and on the other side of the room, Megan smiled, folding her arms across her skinny middle. “It’s about damn time.”

  Jack wouldn’t leave to go after his bounty until he saw the evidence she had on Maurice. She gave it all to him and he sifted through it like a detective, laying out each component and making notes.

  “The clothes, where are they?”

  She went to the freezer and gave him the bag.

  Jack broke the seal, sniffing. His head jerked back. “Christ, that’s strong.”

  “I know, raunchy. I don’t know what it is, though.”

  Jack snipped a sample. “I’ll have it tested.”

  “Calling in old cop favors for me, I’m touched.”

  He flashed her a smile and when she passed him, he pulled her onto his lap.

  “You’ve got a lot here, Darcy. The handwriting forensics are complete and documented. That’ll be your biggest weapon. Loni Marks’s verifications. It’s solid admissible evidence of forgery. On the surface, you could turn it over and it would lead police right to Maurice and a conviction.”

  “But that’s not enough, Jack. He could pay his way out of a forgery charge.”

  He scowled. “Your lack of faith in the justice system is almost insulting.”

  “Do you blame me?” He kissed away any argument. “I know in my gut he killed that woman. If I could find a body—”

  “I’ll say again, let the cops handle this stuff. You have the bloody clothes with Maurice’s DNA on them, plus, if your theory is right, the victim’s DNA.”

  She was certain it was Porche’s. Her gaze slipped to the bag of clothing, and she left his lap and opened it. She sniffed the fabric again. “That’s not charred fabric, it’s chemical. Not a fragrance, though.” And it was familiar. Just on the edge of her memory.

  She sat still, closing her eyes and thinking. Occasionally she took a whiff of the evidence bags. Her mind ticked off her career in the movie business, plucking through each movie set she’d worked on, each actor she’d had to dress and make up.

  “Stop that, you’re going to kill brain cells,” Jack said, breaking off her train of thought.

  He stored the evidence and boxed it up. “I’m taking this.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll give it to someone who can make a case.”

  When she looked apprehensive, he came to her.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she said instantly.

  “Then you have to let the legal system work for you.”

  “And if it doesn’t? If I go to jail for taking Charlie?”

  “I won’t let that happen. Charlie means everything to me, too, and I’ll hide out forever with you if it comes to that.”

  Darcy looked up into his Nordic blue eyes and for the second time in a week, laid her trust in his hands.

  The Cassandras had answered her e-mail for the conference call. Kayla, Alex, Josie and Tory were on the line. Samantha St. John, a CIA operative, had responded via e-mail that she couldn’t call but to fill her in on everything. Megan sat beside Darcy, her moral support as always.

  “You’ve got us scared, Darcy, you okay?” Kayla said, her voice clear through the speakerphone.

  “I’m sorry. This is important. I should have told you all years ago, but I just couldn’t.”

  “Is this about your new hair color and why you disappeared at the funeral when the press was there?” Alex said.

  The comment didn’t surprise her, they were in tune with each other, even after all this time.

  “Yes.” Darcy took a deep breath and began. She withheld nothing, not a single detail of her life with Maurice. They’d all been at the wedding. Poor girl marries millionaire. It sounded good. She was crying by the time she got to the night Rainy came for her, and had to stop to collect herself. She apologized for hiding all this. But she was ashamed, mortally ashamed of her weakness. There was a stretch of silence. Darcy looked at Megan, uncertain.

  Then one clear voice, Kayla, said, “Rainy told me some of what you’ve been through. We all guessed that something was wrong with your marriage. We knew you would come to us when you were ready. You want us to go after him?” They started chattering at once, agreeing.

  Darcy deflated into the chair, relieved beyond measure. She wiped her eyes and smiled. “I love you all, you know that.”

  “Oh, Darcy, what a burden this must have been all this time,” Josie said. “And with Charlie to protect, too.”

  “We’ve all made mistakes,” Tory said. “It’s not your fault. Fear for your life is not a flaw.”

  When they asked about what she planned now, Darcy explained the situation with Porche Fairchild. They all had input that gave her confidence. She wasn’t alone any
more, and she realized that her life would have been so much easier if she’d just told them the whole truth from the start. Shame was an ugly thing, she thought.

  “I can test the clothing if you want,” Alex offered.

  “I could run a check on Fairchild, see if she has prints on file,” Kayla said.

  They each offered help and Darcy felt her soul lift.

  Alex said, “That evidence might not stand up in court because it wasn’t collected by forensics.”

  “I know that. It’s a chance I have to take.” But she wasn’t dispirited.

  “One more thing.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I found a surrogate.”

  “Way to go!” came through the speakerphone. She explained about finding Touchy, the boys in black, and Cleo Patra. She told them what had happened in Vegas and all she’d learned from Cleo. “Dr. Reagan and Betsy Stone are the connections to Cleo and this Peters guy. Maybe if we find Reagan’s records they’ll lead us to Peters.”

  “Where is Cleo now? I’d like to talk to her,” Tory said.

  “I have her hidden. She told me everything she could and until I know it’s safe, no one can go near her. I’ll copy the tape recording and send one to each of you. But considering they chased us down and shot at us, we can’t let anyone know we have her.”

  “You really need to carry a gun, Darcy.”

  Darcy sank back into the cushions. “You sound like Jack.”

  “Who’s Jack?” Josie asked curiously.

  “A bounty hunter.”

  “Intriguing.” This from Kayla.

  She glanced at Meg, who was smug. “He is,” she said and Darcy introduced her trusted friend to the Cassandras. They all thanked her for being Darcy’s friend and support.

  “Can you count on this Jack for help?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Jack knows everything. In fact he’s known who I am for nearly two years and kept his mouth shut.”

  “I like him already.” Darcy thought that was Josie.

  “We want to help, Darcy,” Alex said.

  “You can’t.” When they all protested Darcy reminded them, “I’m a parental kidnapper, ladies. I don’t want any of you accused of aiding and abetting.”

  “But you’ll let this Jack help?”

  “Jack isn’t a man who takes no for an answer.”

  She wondered how he’d feel about her going to see Kel. She had to, it was only fair to break off what little relationship they had. Besides, she wanted to confront him about seeing him in Vegas. She still wasn’t sure if it had been him, since she never got a good look.

  But Darcy trusted her instincts and so far they hadn’t steered wrong.

  Chapter 14

  D arcy found it odd that the instant Jack left her house, Kel called, inviting her over for a drink. She agreed for one reason only—to say goodbye.

  Her cell rang just as she knocked on Kel’s door. She answered it. “Yes, you can have cookies and milk tonight and mind your manners.” Kel opened the door, smiling.

  “Charles?” he asked.

  She nodded, said goodbye and ended the call. “He’s excited about watching some new video.”

  He took her jacket, hanging it up on a peg near the door. He kissed her softly, running his hand down her back. She stepped away, wondering why his touch didn’t evoke the same feelings as before. Jack, she thought, walking farther into the apartment.

  “This is cute.” It was sparse, a studio of sorts, with only a partition wall hiding the bed. It must have come furnished, she thought. It looked generic.

  There wasn’t a radio but a small TV that looked like a throwback from the eighties sat in the corner of the living area. Not his, she decided. His camera equipment was set up in the corner, one camera on a tripod, and photos lay strewn on the table.

  “May I?” she asked, pointing.

  “Sure.”

  She picked up a stack, examining them as he took out two wineglasses. The photos were lovely. Sunsets, old homes, the city from the hilltop. Like postcards.

  “These are very nice.”

  “You’re too kind. They’re just preliminary shots. Seeing what I like the best, then I’ll go back and shoot again to narrow it down. They don’t pay for soso, only for the spectacular.”

  She heard the pop of a cork, and looked up.

  He held up the bottle. “Wine?”

  “I don’t drink.” Her mother was an alcoholic. She’d seen the effect up close and personal.

  “I love American wines.” He showed her the label. “Costs a fortune in England. You sure you won’t have some? You look as if you could use some relaxation.”

  Laying down her purse on the sofa, she went into the kitchen. When he put the wine in the fridge, she added, “I’ll have one of those, though.”

  She pointed to the bottled iced tea, noticing everything in one sweep. The worn appliances and dishes that must have come with the place, the fridge that had little in it except what he’d recently purchased. What really got her notice was that his clothes were still in a suitcase instead of the dresser. There wasn’t any paraphernalia on the dresser, no jewelry, aftershave, receipts, pocket change.

  He poured the tea into a glass, then handed it to her. Darcy drank half of it, not moving when he motioned her to the living-room area.

  “I can’t stay, Kel. I came here for one reason.”

  He frowned. “Well that doesn’t sound good.”

  “We can’t see each other anymore.”

  “And here I thought it was going great.”

  “It was nice, but you’re leaving the area and I don’t want it to go further.”

  “It’s him, isn’t it? That bulldog, Jack Turner.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You could at least have the decency to tell me the truth.”

  “Fine, it is Jack.” She tripped over the words, her mouth suddenly numb. She frowned down at the iced tea, then peered at the bottom of the glass. A faint swirl of greenish powder colored the bottom.

  Her gaze snapped up. “You drugged me.”

  His look was deadpan. “I beg your pardon?”

  “There’s something in this.”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  Oh, no, Darcy thought, feeling her limbs soften.

  “What the hell did you do?” She turned away, and grabbed the table when her world tilted. “Who the hell are you?!”

  “If you must know, I’m an actor.”

  Darcy’s heart slammed to a stop and she choked for air. Oh, no. Maurice!

  “Ah, I see you understand.”

  “You bastard.” She tried to move around the edge of the counter, ready to tear him apart, but he sidestepped and she nearly fell. The numbing feeling seeped down her body like liquid fire. She reached for her knife, turning to throw, but he knocked it out of her hand, shoving her onto the sofa.

  “No, it’s your husband who’s the bastard.”

  She grappled for purchase. Her bones felt liquefied.

  “Let me help you to the sofa.” His accent was completely gone.

  “Drop dead.” She looked at him, blinked, then sent her fist driving into his face. The impact rang up her arm and sent him flying backward. She struggled to her feet, the room swaying. She had to get out of here.

  “Well I didn’t expect that, Mrs. Steele.” He worked his jaw, spit blood.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she said, her words slurred, yet holding the power of her rage. Suddenly, her legs folded and Darcy dropped to the floor.

  “I’ll be out of the country by the time you wake up.”

  “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, Kel, or whoever you are!”

  “Yes, I do. Your husband is a very powerful man in Hollywood.”

  “You owed him, didn’t you?”

  Kel’s expression sharpened. “Yes, I did. He got me out of a jam a couple years back.” His tone went bitter. “I’ve been paying for it for some tim
e now. But my career means more to me.”

  Her world moved along in slow motion, faint sounds amplified, and she barely managed, “Ho-how did he find me?” Did it matter now? She tried pushing herself up off the floor, but her arms wouldn’t obey her mind.

  “The news report, ABS. About some funeral. Charlie and you were on it. He hired a detective to find you, then sent me in to hook you.”

  Rainy’s funeral. Ex-Athena student Shannon Connor had blasted Athena Academy in that news report. Mostly because Shannon had a grudge against Athena and the Cassandras. She’d tried to frame Josie for stealing. Tory had exposed her, and Shannon had become the only student ever to be expelled from Athena.

  Shannon must have caught her and Charlie on film at the funeral. Maurice knew she wouldn’t have missed the service. He must have recognized her and tracked her and Charlie through their plane tickets, must have discovered her alias.

  This is my fault. I knew it was coming and didn’t move fast enough!

  Kel picked up her purse, digging in it and Darcy’s panic shot like a rocket through her when he pulled out her cell phone. Kneeling near her, he hit Star 69, then dialed the last number. She could barely hear Megan answer, saying her whole name. Meg had no fears; her common-law husband was behind bars for the rest of his life for murder. Kel cut the line, then dialed information, asking for an address. “Clever girl, hiding him with your receptionist.”

  Angry tears burned her eyes. Charlie, oh God, my baby. Maurice would use him for the single reason that Darcy loved him more than her own life.

  Kel bent and gripped her jaw, kissing her roughly. “It was fun while it lasted, love.” He stood.

  The drugs kicked through her, narrowed her vision, paralyzing her arms and legs. She could feel her heartbeat slow down.

  Kel’s footsteps and the slamming door echoed through her mind.

  Then everything went black.

  Maurice’s jet landed at a small airport outside Comanche. Kel was waiting for him beside a compact car.

  “Be gassed and ready to go in a moment,” Maurice said to the crew as he stepped onto the flight deck. He took one look at the small car and made a face.