Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1)

Home > Other > Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) > Page 4
Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) Page 4

by Heather Day Gilbert


  She couldn't imagine having a job that would cover a stay at The Greenbrier. Sure, Molly got her in for meals now and again with her employee discount, but she would feel ostentatious paying for even one night at the lavish hotel. And yet here sat a man who took it as a matter of course, who rented a Lexus, and who had more than one handgun.

  Her cell phone rang, startling her. Mom grinned and gave her a quick wink. So she wasn't unaware of her daughter's scrutiny of the hired gun.

  As Katie picked up, Reba's weary voice filled her ear. "Could you come in today?"

  "Um..." Katie glanced over at Ace. What would he do? Stay here and guard Mom? But who would guard her? Oh, well. She couldn't live in fear forever. "Sure. I can come in around ten."

  "Oh, honey, that'd be great. We're getting swamped already with all these summer reading activities. Kids bouncing off the walls today." Reba abruptly hung up.

  Taking in Mom and Ace's anxious stares, Katie made a public service announcement. "I'm going in to the library today. I'll be fine."

  Ace glanced at Mom as if they had some secret understanding. "I'll come along," he said.

  Mom nodded. "I have to go into town today anyway, so I won't even be around. It's more important that you get back to your normal life."

  How many times had Katie heard that in high school? She never understood how she could get back to her normal life when she was living her new "normal." But she knew better than to sass her mom, who only meant well. She turned to Ace.

  "Okay, but you'll just need to stay out of the way. They're really busy." She tried to channel some of last night's irritation with Ace, but found it had almost completely dissipated. The man was winning her over, no doubt about it.

  "Will do." He stood and carried their plates to the sink, then returned to tote the milk back to the fridge.

  Katie had to admit, this city boy was no slouch around the kitchen. That was more than she could say about most of the guys she'd dated.

  ****

  He was going to find that money in the next couple days if it killed him.

  As Ace brushed his teeth, he reflected that Katie seemed to be softening toward him. He would try to keep those positive feelings flowing. Maybe he'd launch a barrage of compliments, or touch her elbow repeatedly as he earnestly spoke to her. Those tried-and-true flirting techniques had yet to fail him. But in case of emergency, there was always the old fallback—fake an injury.

  It was despicable, this plan. But there was no way around it. He had to gain access to Sean McClure's things, and the only way in was through Katie.

  ****

  The library was hopping, as both children and parents disregarded the unwritten keep-it-to-a-whisper rule. Katie jumped right in, entering data from the summer reading forms and guiding children to bookshelves.

  Ace seemed content to sit on an extra rolling chair and observe. Reba had only hesitated a moment to let the bodyguard bypass the No Guns Allowed restriction posted on the library door. She didn't want to take any chances with a library full of children running around, and Katie was thankful she could focus on her work instead of worrying about masked men.

  When she finally glanced at the clock, it was nearly one and they hadn't taken a lunch break. Ace must be starving; he was such a large and well-muscled man. She tried to keep her eyes from wandering to his biceps, which filled out his fitted blue dress shirt in a most impressive way.

  She gathered her purse and keys and walked over to him. "I'm so sorry. I totally lost track of time. I have an hour lunch break."

  He stood, halting his apparently tireless visual rounds of everyone in the library. He met her gaze. "Sounds good."

  "You want to run home and get something to eat? Mom always has sandwich supplies and chips. Or if you're into healthy, I'm sure there's fruit and hummus."

  He shot her a radiant smile, and she nearly lost her balance. "I'll eat anything. I'm easy to please."

  Reba reluctantly agreed to let them go, her eyes lingering on Ace's holstered guns. Katie prayed there would be no repeats of the other day's armed guest appearance while they were out.

  Ace seemed unusually chatty in the car. "Those kids were cracking me up. One of those little boys kept circling the front desk, his eyes glued to my guns."

  "It's not every day they see someone like you sitting around. I mean, you do cut an impressive figure." Her cheeks heated and she tried to will the blush away.

  He was watching her, but she forced herself to keep her eyes on the road. It was awkward being confined in her small car with such a fine specimen of a man. She struggled to land on a topic of conversation, finally saying the first thing that popped into her head.

  "So, were you close to your grandma?"

  He stretched his legs, then adjusted his seat so he could keep them fully extended. "I was."

  She could tell he was hedging, dancing around something he didn't want to share. Should she keep probing?

  Hoping to keep him talking about himself for a change, she said, "So tell me about her. Was she one of those cozy knitting grandmas or one that goes out line dancing?"

  To her relief, he laughed. "I don't think they line dance up my way. But she wasn't a knitter, either. To be honest, the main things I associate with my granny are good cooking and going to church."

  Katie tried to hide her surprise. "We go, too. You're welcome to come along."

  She glanced over and took in his serious look.

  Finally, he sighed. "I don't believe in that stuff now."

  Something pricked Katie's heart. Yes, she believed in that stuff, but did she really believe all of it? If she dug deep and examined her blackest thoughts, she had been angry with God for years. Even as she sang songs in church, read her Bible, and prayed, there was a splinter of doubt that always needled her...that feeling that God had enjoyed keeping her from the life she wanted.

  "You look pensive," he said.

  "Sorry."

  "It's not a bad look. But I do prefer your smile."

  She smiled in return for his compliment as she pulled into the driveway. "Thanks. And, Ace?" She pulled out the key and looked full into those disarming blue eyes. "I understand where you're coming from."

  ****

  As Katie dropped her brown sack purse to the couch, Ace noticed a white envelope protruding from an inside pocket. He pointed to it.

  "Love letter?" he joked.

  She drew her eyebrows together. "I don't know what that is. Reba already gave me my paycheck."

  Pulling the envelope out, she gasped. "It's from them—I just know it. It says To Miss McClure."

  What? That purse had been sitting right there, on the librarians' desk, the entire time. How could anyone have slipped something in? Was Reba in league with Anatoly's thugs? Or had they taken advantage of his one bathroom break and shoved it in then?

  Katie ripped into it before he could stop her, tearing the entire end off the envelope. He hoped they hadn't laced it with anthrax or some chemical weapon. Katie's hands shook as she pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and read:

  "We're done playing games, Miss McClure. Anatoly wants what's rightfully his. Your family will stay in our sights until you bring us what your daddy stole. You send us a text message at this number when you find something: 212-589-3316. It's untraceable so don't even bother. If we don't hear from you in four days, we will come and find it ourselves."

  She slumped to the couch and Ace grabbed the paper, hating that they had threatened her. And now she knew—

  "What Dad stole? What are they talking about? And who is Anatoly?" Tears welled in her eyes.

  He had to play dumb, but at the same time, this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to pass up.

  "I think Anatoly is a famous crime boss in New York—I've read news articles on him." He tried to sound casual. "I remember he pulled off a huge bank heist years ago, but they couldn't pin it on him because the money was never found." He watched for a reaction from Katie. Did she know more than she l
et on?

  She seemed oblivious. "But what would my dad have to do with that?"

  He hesitated for effect. "Your dad was in the FBI. Maybe he was in charge of Anatoly's case?"

  She shook her head, straight red hair slipping over her shoulders. "Dad never mentioned an Anatoly."

  Time for a direct prod. "But did he keep records of his cases somewhere? Didn't you say he had an office?"

  She sat up straighter. "Yes, he had one—it's right down the hall. Maybe we should see if he kept any files."

  He extended his hand, helping her up. This threatening note had turned out to be a windfall for him. "Okay, but first let's eat something. You're still shaking."

  In the kitchen, Katie slowly assembled one turkey sandwich for herself and two ham and Swiss on rye for him. She loaded a large bag of chips, apples, two water bottles, and a package of Oreos into an antique-looking picnic basket.

  She fixed him with a determined look. "Let's eat in the woods at the picnic table. I don't care if they're watching us—I have to get out of the house."

  He nodded. "I'm locked and loaded."

  "Hang on." She went down to her dad's office. When she returned, she racked the slide on the Sig, fitting it into her belt holster.

  He carried the picnic basket as they made their way into the still forest. Shafts of sunlight filtered onto Katie's thick red mane, lighting it afire as she cleaned the table. The silent near-reverence of the clearing felt liberating. It chinked at the invisible armor he'd draped around his heart. He forgot about his mission. He forgot about everything except the light touch of Katie's pale fingers as she handed him his sandwich, a lustrous gleam in her eyes.

  An uninvited thought hit him with such surety, he couldn't shake it. Grandma would have loved Katie. She would've called her a "sweet young woman" and urged Ace to pursue her.

  It was as if he were being prodded from the grave. Or maybe from God.

  He shook his head. Fanciful thinking, indeed. He had one job, and one job only: find the money for his boss so he could move on without a prison threat hanging over him...or even worse, an unspoken death threat. He was fairly certain he'd be taking a long walk off a short plank if he didn't find that money.

  As they began to eat, he gently led the conversation in the direction he wanted. "I know that note must have rattled you. Not to cast aspersions on your dad, but he was an FBI agent, and they do know how to keep mum." He waited a moment to let that insinuation sink in.

  As it did, her eyes widened. "I know my dad wouldn't lie."

  "But what if he tried to protect his family by not telling anyone? What if that money is sitting around somewhere?"

  Was he laying it on too heavy? Did he seem too eager?

  She sighed. "I suppose I could check some other places, just to be sure. I don't want those cretins 'keeping my family in their sights,' or however they put it."

  He nodded. "I can help you."

  "Thanks." Her gaze flitted from the trees to the house, then to her half-eaten sandwich, then finally rested on him. "I hate this feeling. What if someone's watching me right now?"

  He leaned across the table, touching her hand. "I'm here."

  She offered him a brave smile, but continued. "I mean, anything could happen. I can't get away, Ace. I can't run. I hate being so...inept. Of course I'm the perfect target for these goons."

  The Oreo seemed stuck in his throat. Her fear was grounded—she couldn't run if those mobsters chased her. He had to distract her.

  "Didn't you say you're off work tomorrow? We could go shooting, then nose around some of those possible hiding places. Better to feel like you're proactive, rather than reactive, I always say."

  She rested her elbows on the table, obviously relieved. "I shouldn't have to work unless Reba gets desperate. Tomorrow it is. We can go to the range my dad liked." She stood and began tidying up, her long hair swishing like she was in a shampoo ad.

  "And maybe after work today, we could check out your dad's office," he added, as if it were an afterthought.

  Her gaze sharpened for a split second. He candidly met her eyes, but his insides twisted with the weight of his own treachery. Docile as Katie McClure seemed, he was betting there was a serrated edge to that smooth demeanor. An edge that would push her to take risks for her family.

  Risks such as putting her trust in a fake bodyguard like him.

  ****

  5

  Their search of Dad's office hadn't turned up anything. Katie hadn't wanted to let on about the note, so she told Mom they were looking for more ammo—which wasn't entirely untrue. They had emptied every drawer and file, working into the evening. Finally, after a late supper, they had agreed there was nothing to be found and headed to their respective rooms.

  The pitch-dark night sky seemed to amplify every little noise outside her window. She was positive someone was creeping around, but the dogs next door were silent, so she finally turned on her box fan around three in the morning and drifted into turbulent dreams.

  Reba had asked her to come to the library for a half-day, but she and Ace could hit the shooting range after that. She didn't want to admit it, but being around the buff bodyguard made her feel secure.

  Stepping out of her morning shower, she thought about the threatening note she had handed off to him. If she contemplated the scrawled message inside, an icy wedge of fear stabbed at her.

  A song from her childhood came to mind—a Bible verse set to music. "When I am afraid, I will trust in Thee." She hummed it to herself, over and over, trying to displace the anxiety. Yes, even more than Ace, she had to trust in God. But that didn't mean she had to drop her guard. Shooting practice would come in handy, giving her confidence to conceal-carry the Sig, at least until the threat blew over.

  But she knew it wouldn't blow over until Anatoly's thugs got their money.

  Donning her favorite khaki jacket and brown pants, she twisted her hair up and glanced at her reflection. All she needed was a pair of black glasses to scream Librarian. If only she could glam it up like Molly. She had a brief image of herself at The Greenbrier restaurant, dressed to the nines, across from Ace in a tuxedo. He would look a little like Cary Grant, she decided.

  A knock on her door pulled her back to reality. "You ready?" Ace sounded impatient. "I already got breakfast but we're running late."

  She sighed. Ace didn't phrase things like a Southerner. He didn't soften his bluntness or coddle her. He never called her honey or sweetie like most men did. And yet somehow that made him seem more trustworthy.

  She grabbed her purse and slipped into brown ballet flats. She would try not to think of oversized thugs and threatening notes. Today she would focus on the children at the library and rest in the quiet presence of the strong man who watched her every move.

  ****

  Ace hated to waste more time at the library, but searching the house without Katie would never fly. He could only hope the half-day passed quickly so he could get down to the business he came here for.

  He covertly observed Katie as she drove. Her face seemed to radiate a peaceful glow. How did she find that peace in the middle of the storm raging around her? She and Mrs. McClure were still eating regular meals, but his own appetite had dwindled after a late-night follow-up call from his boss. The gist of it was find the money...or else.

  He wiped sweat from his forehead. It must be ninety degrees in this piece-of-junk car, but it was probably all she could afford. Unbuttoning the sleeves on his yellow Brooks Brothers shirt, he haphazardly shoved them up to his elbows.

  The heat served to fuel his frustration. If only Katie would work up her confidence and move to a larger city, she could have a decent-paying job that utilized her obvious people skills. That limp seemed to control her life. No one should let anything control them...trap them.

  And yet here he sat, trapped. Controlled by a cruel and wicked man. He stretched his leg and kicked the door, not accidentally.

  She shot a glance at him. "You okay? Sorry i
t's so hot. The A/C hasn't worked for years so the car vents just blow hot air around. You want to open windows instead?"

  "Sure." He tried to mellow his tone, but couldn't. What was she doing sitting here with him, trusting him? Why hadn't her mom been more wary of a strange bodyguard, no matter how perfectly his credentials had checked out?

  Because Ace was too slick, that's why. His boss had chosen him because of that.

  The wind tugged strands from her updo, whipping them around her face. What a contrast she was with the Manhattan up-and-comers he had dated. Those meticulously-coiffed women would have run screaming from this clunker that doubled as a wind tunnel.

  Yet Katie merely hummed along, oblivious to the wind...and to how completely she had mesmerized him. He couldn't tear his eyes from that soft freckled skin, those plush lips, and that wild hair.

  He had to get it together. He had to finish this job.

  She slowed as she pulled into the library parking lot. "My space is taken," she said, turning the wheel and crawling up the rows. "Good grief—all the spaces are taken. I hope there wasn't some event going on that I forgot about."

  He pointed to an open area behind the dumpster. "Reba probably wouldn't mind if you parked there, would she?"

  Only after she had maneuvered into the tight space did he realize her car would be out of eyesight from the library window. It probably wouldn't be a problem, but he'd be sure to leave early after work and sweep the area.

  "Thanks for the help." She grabbed her bag and shot him a warm smile. "Time to go impress some kiddos with your big guns." She winked.

  A nearly chemical surge caught him off-guard. In so many words, Katie McClure just let him know she found him attractive. A lesser man would prey on that vulnerability to get what he wanted. And today, Ace was that lesser man.

 

‹ Prev