by Dinah McCall
Jonah didn’t know whether he was glad she’d given him an out, but the subject was obviously changed.
“You’re right. I don’t want to see the son of a bitch, but you’re not going alone.”
“Agent Ruger said he’d have a couple of agents accompany me to the hospital.”
“Never send a bunch of feds to do what one Company man could do with his eyes closed.”
Macie smiled before she thought. “Ah, so that competition I’ve always heard about really does exist.”
“Only in theory,” Jonah said, then held out his hand. “Truce?”
Macie didn’t hesitate. “Truce,” she said softly, and felt the gentleness in his touch as his fingers curled around her wrist.
As they entered the house, Jonah paused momentarily and looked over his shoulder toward the trio of gardeners clipping the hedge. They were too far away for him to see their faces, and he wondered which one was the man calling himself Felipe Sosa, or if they were any closer to finding out where Calderone’s people had taken his son. Instead of following his instincts to beat the information out of the man and then nail his sorry hide to the floor, he followed Macie into the house and then escorted her to the hospital to see Declyn Blaine.
A trustee was mopping the floor outside Calderone’s cell. Not only could Miguel hear the intermittent slap of the wet mop against concrete, but he could smell the industrial-strength disinfectant. It offended his soul.
He thought of the beauty of his hacienda and of the dark-eyed women who had warmed his bed—of the satin sheets and fine wines, and of the laughter of his children. It was lost to him here, but not for long. Miguel Calderone was a man, not an animal to be locked up in some cage. He would get out, but not before everything was set in place. He was going to take great pleasure in watching Jonah Slade’s son die. He would cut the heart right out of his chest while it was still beating and take great pride in watching Slade’s shock turn to agony and despair. Then he would kill Jonah Slade, too. But not before he’d suffered as he himself was suffering now.
The trustee was closer now. Calderone could hear him humming beneath his breath. He rolled over on his bunk to face the wall and began to breathe from his mouth until the man had passed. Then he heard a word that he had not heard since he’d been taken from his country.
“Padrone.”
It was little more than a whisper, but he heard it just the same and immediately rolled to a sitting position on the edge of the bunk. The trustee never looked his way as he swung the wet mop from side to side along the floor, and for a moment Miguel thought he must have imagined what he’d heard. Then the man paused, put the mop head into the bucket and sloshed it up and down. When he pulled the mop out and slapped it back on the floor, it made a loud, wet splat. The guard at the end of the cell block never bothered to look up. It was then that the trustee stepped closer to the cell.
“There is a problem with the boy,” the trustee whispered.
Calderone jumped to his feet, certain that he was being set up.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered.
The trustee paused, took a handkerchief from his back pocket, and wiped sweat from his face and then the back of his neck. At that moment Calderone saw the tattooed head of a python just above the trustee’s collar. This time, when the trustee spoke, Calderone listened without fear.
“He says his father does not know he exists. He says they would pass on a street and be strangers to each other.”
“How can this be?” Calderone asked.
The trustee shrugged and stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket, then doused the mop head into the bucket again.
“I am sorry, Padrone. That I do not know, but they ask for further instructions.”
Calderone hesitated, but only for a moment. “Tell them to contact the Snowman. He will know what to do. I want Slade found and taken to the boy. Lock them up together and then wait for me.”
The trustee looked up then, for the first time meeting Calderone’s gaze. In that moment Calderone recognized a man who’d been a runner in his organization—a man they’d long since thought dead.
“When I go, Hermano, I take you with me.”
“No, Padrone, it is too late for me. I am already dead.”
Before he could explain himself, the guard yelled. The man ducked his head and went back to his task.
Suspicious, the guard walked the length of the block, but when he got to Calderone’s cell, he saw nothing but the man’s back as he lay curled up on the cot, snoring softly. Just because he could, the guard hit the bars with his riot stick, then grinned when Calderone rolled abruptly and fell off the bed.
He was still chuckling to himself as he walked away, unaware that Calderone was smiling, too. He knew something that the guard didn’t know, that in the hours to come, he would be the one to have the last laugh.
5
Cedars-Sinai hospital was a massive and imposing structure, sitting on acres of prime land between Wilshire Boulevard and Melrose Avenue. It had been years since Macie had been here, but her memories of it were anything but favorable. Although the finest doctors in the country were on staff, there had been no way to save her mother from the cancer that had invaded her body. The day her mother died was the last day Macie Blaine had ever felt safe.
Until Jonah.
She looked over at the man behind the wheel of the car and knew that it would have been far more difficult to come here had it not been for his presence. And while she understood his reluctance to trust her, it still hurt—more than she would have expected. She sighed and then shifted her gaze to the road before them.
Jonah sensed her scrutiny but chose to ignore it, instead, glancing into the rearview mirror, as he had off and on since leaving the Blaine estate. The two agents Ruger had sent along with them were still there—a vivid reminder that this was anything but a social call. Traffic slowed at the light, and he slowed down with it, angling the car into the turning lane.
“This is a damned big place,” Jonah said, as he turned south off Melrose. The edifice of Cedars-Sinai rose above the concrete like a man-made mountain, stretching in every direction over the length of several city blocks.
“It’s one of the best medical facilities in the country,” Macie said, and then added, “My mother died here.”
There weren’t many things that touched Jonah anymore, but those four words did it. Her quiet, nearly emotionless remark was more poignant than anything else she could have said. He thought of the skinny little redhead she’d been, with her braces and unruly hair, and wondered how many nights she’d cried herself to sleep.
“I don’t think I knew that,” he said. “Sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“How old were you?”
“Eight.” Then she pointed toward a sign on their left. “If we park here, it will put us closer to the critical care unit.”
Jonah hurt for the child she’d been. Now he knew why she and Felicity had been so close, and what a difficult decision it must have been for her to take his side against her family. He wanted to tell her how much he appreciated what she’d done, but now just didn’t seem like the time. Instead he wheeled into the parking lot and began the task of trying to find a place to park. A couple of minutes later, an SUV backed out of a parking place and Jonah took it.
He pulled into the space and started to get out when he realized the car carrying the two agents had stopped directly behind him. One of them got out and approached the driver’s side of the car. Jonah rolled down the window.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“My partner is parking. Please wait until he joins us. We’re taking no chances on another abduction.”
Macie shuddered and then glanced nervously around the huge parking lot.
“I never thought of that. What makes them think it would happen again? Is there something they’re not telling me?”
“Not that I know of,” Jonah said, then adde
d, “Don’t worry. If they come after anyone else, it will be me.”
He said it with such nonchalance that for a moment Macie couldn’t think what to say. Before she could gather her thoughts, the agents were at the car and escorting them toward the building. As they stepped up on a curb, Jonah’s hand was suddenly at her elbow, steadying her step. She glanced up.
His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but she could see the rest of him, and he looked just fine, in his dark blue slacks and white shirt. She couldn’t help thinking that the years had been kind to Jonah Slade. His hair was still thick, dark and bone straight, and he walked with his chin tilted just the tiniest bit upward, as if readying himself for the next blow life might deal. She shuddered slightly, remembering all too well what he looked like beneath his clothes, and wished they’d met again under different circumstances.
“Like what you see?” he asked, and then silently cursed his flippant attitude toward her. He’d already had this conversation with himself. Why in hell couldn’t he leave her alone?
Macie flinched. She hadn’t meant for him to catch her staring. Then she surprised him as well as herself by answering truthfully.
“Yes, actually, I do, but that’s not the point. Were you serious?”
“About what?” he asked, as he hurried her past a sprinkler system.
“Why would they want to take you hostage, too?”
“So I could watch my son die.”
Macie stumbled.
Jonah caught her and then glanced down. Her face was colorless, her expression blank.
“Macie?”
She looked up at him, her pupils wide with shock. “God…oh, God. I never thought…it didn’t occur to me that…”
“Let it go,” Jonah said.
Macie grabbed his arms, her fingers digging into the muscles beneath his shirt.
“But you might be in danger, and I’ve dragged you out here in plain sight.”
“I’m always in danger, and that’s only one of the reasons why I’m so mad at your father for fostering the lie that led me to believe Felicity had aborted our child. Men who live the life I live don’t usually have families. It not only makes them vulnerable, but it puts their loved ones in danger of retaliation.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said sharply. “Now, let’s get inside. The agents are waiting.”
Macie let herself be hurried into the hospital, but as they entered the lobby, the hair suddenly stood up on the back of her neck. She told herself it was nothing but the sensation of coming out of the heat into air-conditioning, but she was too afraid of what she might see to turn around and look.
Jonah had felt the same thing. Almost immediately, his warning system had gone on alert. As they crossed the lobby, he took Macie by the elbow on the pretext of courtesy, but what he really wanted was control. If he had to throw her down or grab her and run, he didn’t want to be reaching for her when the bullet had already left the gun.
Macie looked up at him again, but he didn’t acknowledge the look. He was too busy eyeing the people between them and the elevator.
There was an elderly couple sitting near a large potted plant, and a woman with three young children who looked like she was ready to give them away. There were two teenagers slouching against a wall. One had green-streaked hair and a lot of body tattoos, which made Jonah nervous. The other one’s hair was about an inch long and fire-engine red, and he was sporting a considerable number of body piercings. Jonah couldn’t tell if they were male or female or one of each, and he wondered what kind of parents let their kids run like that. Almost immediately, the thought brought him up short. He had no business judging anyone for how they raised their kids when he’d left his own without benefit of a father for fifteen years. Even though he hadn’t known, he couldn’t rid himself of the guilt about Evan.
As they neared the elevators, a young woman suddenly got up from her seat and started across the lobby. Jonah was still eyeing the psychedelic twins when she stood, but when he saw the agent to his left step in front of him with his arm outstretched, he reacted instinctively and put himself between Macie and the girl.
The girl looked up just as the agent appeared in front of her. When he thrust out his arm in a gesture of defense, she let out a cry of alarm and immediately dropped her bag. The contents went everywhere. A lipstick rolled across the floor, while an assortment of papers and tissues went flying.
Macie felt as if she’d been blindsided. One moment they’d been walking toward the elevators, and the next thing she knew she was staring at Jonah’s back. Then everyone was talking and apologizing, and the woman was almost in tears.
“What happened?”
Macie turned around and found herself face-to-face with a good-looking man in his early thirties. His smile was friendly, his question innocuous.
“I don’t know. Just an accident, I think.”
He nodded, eyed her with obvious appreciation, then walked away just as Jonah turned around.
“I’m sorry, Macie, I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I wasn’t talking to you,” she said.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked.
Macie frowned. “Some man…I guess he was just curious about the spectacle we managed to make of ourselves.”
Jonah yanked off his sunglasses, quickly scanning the room.
“What man, Macie? I don’t see any man?”
“I don’t know, Jonah…just a man. Now can we please just get to the elevator?”
But Jonah obviously wasn’t satisfied with her answer.
“What did he ask you?”
“He asked me what happened. I told him I didn’t know. He smiled at me and walked off. You turned around. End of story.”
“He smiled at you?”
Macie rolled her eyes. “Yes. And if I had been interested, I’m pretty sure he would have had a lot more to say.” Then she added, “It may be hard for you to realize this, but it’s not the first time a man’s shown interest in me.”
Then she shifted her purse to her other shoulder, tilted her chin and strode toward the elevators.
Jonah eyed the sexy sway of her hips beneath her pale pink slacks and sighed.
“I’m out of here, boys,” he said to the agents, then had to hurry to catch Macie before she got on the elevator alone.
The two agents finished picking up the woman’s belongings, apologized again and quickly followed.
The woman clutched her bag closely to her chest, watching until the doors went shut; then she walked out of the lobby. She went down the walk, dodging the sprinklers and admiring the view as she headed for the parking lot. A few moments later a bright red sports car pulled up beside her. She opened the door and slid in. The man behind the wheel was smiling as he leaned over and kissed her square on the lips.
“Smile, Gloria, we’re out of the woods.”
Gloria James glared at her husband, Donny, her lower lip jutting angrily as she reached for her seat belt.
“We never would have been in the woods if it wasn’t for your little ‘habit.’ Did you plant the bug like he told you?”
Donny’s smile slipped. He didn’t like to be reminded that his penchant for “nose candy” had put them on the edge of bankruptcy, and he especially didn’t like to be reminded that his dealer had been going to kill him. The fact that he’d been forced to beg Dominic Cosa for his life still made him weak in the knees, but that was all behind them now. Dominic had given Donny a picture of a woman and told him that if he would plant a bug in her purse, they would be even. It had taken two days of sitting in that damned hospital lobby before the woman had made an appearance, but their diligence had finally paid off. Now they were even with the world.
“Sure, baby…it’s all over.” He put the car in gear and headed for the street. “What do you say to a fresh start? We could move within the week. Where would you like to go?”
Gloria
’s glare deepened. “With you? Nowhere.”
“Now, baby, that’s no way to be. I told you. Once I let Dominic know the job is done, we’re square with the world.”
“I don’t trust him, and I don’t trust you,” she said. “Just take me home. I need to think.”
“What? Are you talking about divorcing me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
This wasn’t what he’d expected to hear her say, but the longer he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. This was just what he needed. A true fresh start. No one to answer to but himself. Just like the good old days.
A short while later, they pulled into their driveway. Gloria looked over her shoulder at the green Jag parked in the street in front of their house.
“There’s a strange car parked in front of our house, but no one’s in it.”
“It’s Dominic’s.”
Gloria James got out of the car, still staring at her husband in disbelief.
“He’s in our house? That motherfucking drug dealer is in our house?”
Donny felt a little nervous about the fact himself, but he wasn’t going to let her know. It was all about losing face, and he’d lost all he was ever going to lose in this deal.
“Why don’t you tell the whole neighborhood, Gloria?” he drawled, and then headed for the house without looking to see if she was following.
Dominic Cosa was sitting in Donny’s favorite chair, drinking a wine cooler from their own refrigerator, when Donny walked in the door. It pissed him off, but considering the muscle Dominic had brought with him, he was in no position to say so. Instead he took the positive approach and greeted Dominic with a wide grin.
“It’s done,” he said, and then brushed his hands together as if dusting them off. “Took a couple of days for her to show, but it was a piece of cake.”
