"Poopsie!" she exclaimed.
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, that's Poopsie. My purple panda Poopsie. I wondered where he went!" She grabbed the stuffed animal, dust sifting into the air around them. "Dad won him for me at the fair one year. Molly was so jealous that she didn't get one. She made Brandon win her a real goldfish instead, then it wound up dying a week later."
He laughed. A timer on his watch beeped and he anxiously glanced at it. "Sorry, but I need to get moving. The police unit will be showing up any minute now. And I want to help you get down the stairs, even though I know you can probably do it yourself. Am I right in thinking you want Poopsie to accompany you?"
She grinned. "Sure thing."
By the time Mom came in asking about the police car, the attic was closed up and Ace was heading out the door. He waved, promising to return as soon as he could.
It was only then she let it sink in: there was no bank heist money in the house. Maybe there never was any money. What kind of daughter was she to suspect her father stole it in the first place?
****
8
The crumbling roof on the faded stucco building looked ready to collapse. Ace was glad he was the first to show up, so he could better examine the layout. Kicking open the splintered wooden door, he saw he wasn't the first to use this place for nefarious purposes. Beer cans, cigarette butts, and a moldy mattress decorated the interior.
After checking the large room, he situated himself toward the back, near a window with no glass. He could bail out that way if he had to, even though it would be quite a drop into the creek below. He had just finished checking his guns when the door burst open.
His boss was alone, or so it seemed. Peering out the front, Ace could only see one black car. Probably had a driver inside, maybe one or two extra gunmen at the most.
"Ace Calhoun. My favorite ex-inmate. How ya doin'?"
He hated the false charm this man always showed. From his too-toothy grin to his all-American good looks, he was a total fake.
Fake enough to fool the FBI, in fact. And his partner, Sean McClure.
"Jim." He nodded.
"You been enjoying time with that McClure redhead? Always a bit of a spitfire, that one. Kind of nosy about my visits to her dad's boat. Good ol' Sean, wouldn't he roll in his grave if he saw me alive? He was so sure someone had whacked me."
Ace's stomach turned at the casual way Jim Chrisman spoke of his deceased FBI partner. He was becoming more and more convinced that Sean hadn't been in on the theft.
Jim continued. "You searched that boat, didn't you? I told you where I put it. You check there?"
Ace uncrossed his arms and dropped them to his sides, ready to draw and fire if he had to. "Sure did. One of the first places I looked. It wasn't in the built-in bench."
He braced himself for Jim's wrath, but it didn't come. Instead, an ominous silence fell. The calm before the storm?
Jim smiled even wider. "No problem. I take it you've searched the house?"
"In its entirety."
He stood watchful, waiting for Jim to give some kind of signal. It would be easy enough for his boss to cut his losses and have him killed right here.
Jim stalked closer and Ace recoiled. The man laughed. "Cool your jets. Didn't I spring you from jail? I'm your savior. Now you are gonna pay me back. Out of the goodness of my heart, I've decided to give you a couple more days. I'm staying over at The Greenbrier, keeping a close eye on that piece of work, Molly. That one grew up real nice."
Ace wanted to punch his lights out.
Jim smirked. "That hurt your feelings, Calhoun? Well, try this on for size. You don't hand me the money in two days, and I'm gonna get cozy with the grieving widow McClure. Esther Sue always did have a soft spot for me, and I'm sure she'd be glad if I came out of"—here he offered air quotes—"'government hiding.' I remember all those nights we sat around the family bonfire, unburdening our hearts to one another." He grunted. "Ours could be a marriage made in heaven. By the way, she will marry me, whether she wants to or not. Now, I can't actually say what might happen to those sisters if they get in my way. And the brother...well, he never liked his dad much. Maybe he needs a new one?"
Before he could stop himself, Ace slammed both fists into Jim's chest, sending the shorter man reeling. "You're going to stay out of their lives," he breathed.
Immediately, two armed men entered the room, blocking the door. Jim coughed.
"Don't get fresh with me. I will not get out of their lives, or out of yours, until I have that stash. I know it's around because I hid it myself. No way Sean could've spent all that, and it's not in his accounts. You are going to get to it before Anatoly does, or you'll die trying."
There was no choice. Either he would be the bad guy or Jim would, and he couldn't stomach Jim getting anywhere near the McClures.
"Two days," he agreed.
Jim rubbed at his chest, obviously sore. "I'll see you back here at the same time. And, hey—at our next get-together? My men won't be so shy." He waved his goons out the door, stalking out behind them.
Ace stayed frozen in place, barely breathing until the car pulled away. Then he strode out, slamming the rotting door and unlocking his Lexus.
The Lexus his boss was paying for.
He had to retrench and find that money. As he saw it, he had one last-ditch option, and it was a bold one.
The light was about to shine into the darkness and blind them all.
****
Mom had busied herself with laundry, doubtless convincing herself that there was nothing dangerous afoot. Katie sat on the couch, Sig at the ready, observing the police car out the front window. She really needed a glass of sweet tea and a sandwich, but she wasn't about to leave her watchful post.
The welcome sight of Ace's sleek grey Lexus nearly brought tears to her eyes. "He's here!" she shouted to no one in particular. After struggling to get up and get her foot moving, she made her way to the front door to meet him.
But he didn't knock. She moved to the window and caught a glimpse of his back and arm as he pulled the apartment door closed behind him. What was he doing? Maybe he was going to install the glass in the door, or maybe he was hungry.
She texted him:
Katie: We have plenty of food over here if you want some lunch.
She continued to stand by the window as the police unit slowly pulled away. Leaning on her good leg, she watched the apartment door for a solid ten minutes before giving up. No text. No sign of Ace.
What had happened?
****
After unloading and storing most of his weapons, Ace stripped to his T-shirt and threw himself onto the couch, letting his endorphin high slowly ebb away. He pictured waves on a Caribbean beach, a pastel-painted cottage he could rent with his payout from this job. Or a relaxing weekend in Connecticut in the fall, taking in the sights.
Only thing was, Katie's flaming hair and smiling face intruded into each vision.
He had to get real. There was only one way for him to get out of here alive, and that was to find the money.
Reading over Katie's text, he made a decision. Uncomfortable as it was, embarrassing as it was, he had go through with it.
It was time to come clean to Esther Sue McClure.
****
He made minimal eye contact as he ate his late lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Katie seemed to want to talk, but what could he say? That he'd just returned from a meeting with her dad's fake-dead partner? That a crooked FBI agent had gotten him out of prison early so he'd be in his debt?
Anxiety seemed to emanate from Katie, from her nervous finger-tapping to her frequent glances out the window. Of course she was worried—she hadn't found the money for Anatoly's men. Just like he hadn't found it for Jim.
Esther Sue finished her sandwich and stood. "I need to switch my laundry over. Excuse me."
Ace stood as well, trying to ignore Katie's startled look. "Mrs. McClure, would you mind if we talk
ed some about my payment and things?" It was partly true.
Esther Sue ran a hand through her light hair. "Of course, dear. Let's talk in the office, shall we?"
He felt bad about leaving Katie in the dust, but she didn't need to know the truth. Yet.
Mrs. McClure shut the office door tightly, then sat in her husband's leather chair. She crossed her hands, fixing him with an inquisitive stare. "Now, how about you tell me what's really going on?"
He was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
She gave a half-smile. "I grew up with three brothers, honey. I know when a man's trying to hide something."
A picture flashed through his mind—that of Mrs. McClure sitting at the fire-pit with her husband and Jim Chrisman. Would she have known if Sean was lying to her? What about Jim? He had to ask.
"Mrs. McClure, I need you to tell me everything you know about Jim Chrisman."
Her pale blue eyes widened. "Good gracious. Well, not to speak ill of the dead, but he always seemed too good to be true—slick, you know. Though maybe that made him a good FBI agent. But his jokes always seemed to have an edge—a sharp, pointed edge. I remember he really burned my biscuits the one time he decided to be sarcastic about the way Katie walked. I'm afraid I lost my temper and told him if he didn't apologize, he'd never set foot in my house again. He said he was sorry, but it left a bad taste in my mouth that a grown man could be that cruel."
Ace nodded. Everything that man did left a bad taste in his mouth. Shifting forward, he said, "I need to be honest with you."
She rested her arms on the desk. "Please do. I'm listening."
How many times had Granny said that same phrase to him? How many times had he unburdened his soul to her like she was some kind of priest? Here he was, back in the same position, seeking absolution.
"Mrs. McClure, I came here with less than honest intentions. I'm not a trained bodyguard, but I can handle firearms and I'm fairly popular with ladies. I was instructed to infiltrate your home and search for money that was concealed here before your husband's death. Dirty money, hidden by none other than your husband's partner, Jim Chrisman."
She sucked in her breath, but didn't speak. He continued.
"It's not something I chose to do, believe me. It's something I had to do to keep my freedom. I won't elaborate on my situation, but suffice it to say, someone powerful holds the strings to my future." He thumped his fist on the desk, dark anger brewing as he remembered Jim's smug look. "Brace yourself, Mrs. McClure. That someone is Jim Chrisman. Sean was right to want to look into his death, but maybe not for the reasons you thought. It wasn't a murder, but a faked death."
She fell back in the chair, one hand flying to her chest. "No. Does that mean...?"
He answered her unasked question. "I don't know if someone killed Sean. Jim has never admitted as much. But the thing is, he's after the money, along with the mob boss who stole it in a bank heist."
"How much money are you talking about?"
"1.5 million dollars."
She vehemently shook her head. "No. There is no way Sean had that money. Our bank account was depleted paying for his funeral expense. I've been living on his life insurance, but I have to get a job soon. I haven't told the kids yet."
He stood, pacing the room. "Jim said he hid it on the Vixen. He's convinced it's there, but I've checked."
"So that's what you were doing on the boat." She drew a deep breath. "You've been using my daughter, haven't you?" Her eyes swam with sudden tears.
He bowed his head. "Yes. I have."
She gasped, noisily yanking three tissues from the nearby box before bursting into a rainstorm of tears. "I...thought—I thought you were good for her."
He wished the floor would open and swallow him up. "I honestly hope I can be. I've realized I care more for Katie's safety than for my own. I want to get Jim and the mobsters away from your family. That's why I had to ask you outright."
Esther Sue examined him, sniffing and blowing her nose. Finally, she nodded. "I believe you. But I can't help you. Sean told me nothing about money or that bank case. Just that he wondered about Jim's death." A fresh burst of sobs ensued.
He nodded slowly. It was decided, then. As always, he had a plan of action. Not a safe plan, but it would be worth it if the McClures were finally left alone. He would get the gears in motion tomorrow.
But today, he had a shooting date with a certain redheaded librarian.
****
9
Katie tried to hide her surprise as Ace emerged, remnants of a smile on his face. What had he talked to Mom about? Surely he wouldn't have asked to...no, that was ridiculous. They hadn't even had one real date yet.
"Let's go shooting," he said.
"Is that wise, do you think? Is Mom okay?"
"I hate to burst your bubble, but it seems like you're the only one those goons are stalking, my dear. And I'll be with you, so you'll have nothing to worry about."
Warmth infused her. Yes, she was safe with Ace.
"Okay, let's get going. I'll tell Mom goodbye."
"No need. She went back to her room and I told her where we're headed. She said to be careful."
"That's my momma." She packed up the Sig. "After you, my knight in shining armor."
****
After two hours shooting at the range, Ace was convinced Katie had underestimated her skills. It was very possible her aim was even better than his. She had fired all his guns, even the larger .45, and had managed to keep them steady—barely a kick. This West Virginia girl could certainly hold her own in a firefight.
As they slid into the Lexus, he gave in to an idea that had been kicking around for days. "What do you say we go out to eat—on me? Anyplace good around Hemlock Creek?"
Her green eyes danced. "Sure, over in Lewisburg there are quite a few places. Are you looking to get all gussied up or just go somewhere casual?"
He smiled, briefly covering her hand with his. "Actually, I was hoping we could both get dressed up. I've seen Molly looking glitzy, but not you. I have a feeling you'd outshine her."
Her hand drew back a bit. Unlike most of the women he'd known, Katie didn't wear her feelings on her sleeve. He couldn't read her easily. She seemed to like him, but what if she was being all Southern-friendly, simply tolerating his presence until he left?
Tolerating him—like his parents had. The thought crushed him.
He shifted into gear and tried to focus on the winding roads. Glancing in his rearview, he noticed a blue SUV that was zooming up too close to his bumper. Did all these locals drive like demons?
Long fingers wrapped around his hand where it rested on the gear shift, distracting him, pulling him back. "Thanks for taking me shooting. I needed the reminder I'm not helpless. And yes, I know just the restaurant we can go to."
Her honeyed voice, soft with light Southern accents, melted something inside him. He sensed the kind of unconditional acceptance he'd only known with Granny.
As he turned to meet her eyes, the SUV rammed straight into his bumper, sending the Lexus skidding...directly toward a 400-foot drop off the side of the mountain.
****
Katie could only think to scream one word: "Right!"
He jerked the wheel that direction. The car flipped around into the other lane, pinning his door against the solid rock on the inside of the mountain.
The SUV sped around them as she tried to control her frantic breathing. This was no accident. After a moment's silence, she managed to croak out a few words.
"Such a close call. I'm so sorry."
He shot her a dark look. "Do not say sorry. It's not your fault. I should've suspected they were up to no good, driving so close."
Grasping the wheel, he lightly pushed on the gas. When the car revved, he maneuvered it out of the ditch and into its respective lane. He drove a couple minutes before finding a pull-off area, where he turned the car back toward home.
"Thank the Lord no one else was coming," she said.
He
stared straight ahead. "The Lord had nothing to do with this."
She shook her head. "Yes, He did. He protected us."
"You're so sure, aren't you?" His voice held no reprimand, just incredulity.
Hesitating, she responded honestly. "Not always. Sometimes I wonder why He lets those horrible things happen. But I'm starting to believe it's always for a bigger plan...kind of a greater good."
He nodded, dark bangs falling in his eyes. "Granny felt that way too. And to tell the truth, I kind of believe it myself. It's the only way to make sense of the stuff that happens. But then another part of me wants to rail against a God who would do that."
"He's not the bad guy," she said.
Silence blanketed the car. It was like she'd struck a nerve, but why?
****
Their near-fatal wreck had only crunched the bumper, but as a side effect, it steamrolled any illusions Ace had been operating under.
Anatoly's men would not give up. And they weren't going to be patient.
Daydreams he'd had about a leisurely dinner with a fancied-up Katie were quickly replaced with battle plans.
He would take the fight to the oppressors. He would end this thing. And in the process, he would wound and possibly even break the one person he now cared for the most—the person he might even love.
He prayed God would forgive him for what he was about to do to Katie McClure.
****
As the doorbell rang, Mom went to answer it, leaving Katie alone with Molly as she prepared for her date.
Molly secured her sister's low, patent-leather heel. "This too tight?"
She shook her head, glancing at the mirror to take in her curled hair, her jewel-green sheath dress, and the sparkling diamond bracelet Molly had lent her. A trifle from a rich suitor, no doubt.
Molly smiled. "Don't be so nervous. You look choked with fear. You should date more often, stay in the swing of things."
Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) Page 7
