Catch a Shadow

by Potter, Patricia;

  “When was this?” she asked, feeling a twinge of jealousy. He seemed a bit too fond of this Dallas.

  “Nine years ago,” he said.

  Kirke didn’t take any comfort in the memory. A bar in common? She couldn’t stifle a yawn.

  “And the numbers?” Sam contributed, now fully into the puzzle.

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “But Dallas might.”

  Kirke glanced at her watch. Three thirty.

  They all needed sleep. Jake’s face was lined with fatigue. She couldn’t think any longer. Sam was a night person, but he, too, looked tired.

  “I’m going to bed,” she said. “I think we all should. Maybe it will be clearer in the morning.”

  Sam looked at her, then Jake.

  “He going to stay here?”

  “I am,” Jake said without hesitation.

  “Where are you going to sleep?” Sam asked truculently.

  “In the chair,” Jake said evenly, his gaze obviously weighing Sam.

  She looked from Sam, the open, good-natured, musician who looked ten years younger than he was, to hard-edged Jake, whose enigmatic eyes sheltered every emotion.

  Sam was being protective, just as she had been protective of him from time to time, but Jake didn’t know that.

  Awareness flickered across Sam’s face. He raised an eyebrow, then picked up Spade and retreated to his room without another word. Despite Jake’s suggestion, he closed the door, but she didn’t hear it lock.

  Jake turned to her. “You should go back to sleep.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that when you’re here,” she said honestly.

  “You won’t know I’m here.”

  But she would. Even with her eyes closed, she suspected she would be aware of his slightest movement.

  “Did you really like Sam’s band?” she asked.

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

  She believed him. He had lied to her in the beginning, but she understood why. But small lies? She doubted it. He wouldn’t care enough to do it.

  She crawled back in bed and pulled the sheet over her. Her mind went over the conversation. Had Mark Cable included a clue in his few pained words? A clue that only Jake would understand?

  Why not just tell her?

  He hadn’t known her, hadn’t known what she would do. Perhaps he wanted no one except Jake Kelly to understand what he was trying to say. Maybe it was a Hail Mary pass on his part. He knew he was dying, and there was one last thing he had to do, but he didn’t want whatever it was to fall into the wrong hands.

  So what had he meant with those last words?

  She snuggled between the sheets.

  Maybe Dallas would offer another clue. A definitive one. With that thought, she closed her eyes and nearly instantly was asleep.

  Jake sat in the chair he pulled next to the window. There were vehicles going by outside. In Atlanta, there were always vehicles going by. One car parked not far from the back entrance, and he watched as an obviously intoxicated couple stumbled inside.

  They hadn’t been found yet, but that meant little. Adams obviously had resources, probably even had them in the CIA. He’d managed to get himself assigned to that particular mission, which meant he probably had assistance.

  How much had he taken away from that mission? If he’d been willing to betray his country and slaughter his companions, he wouldn’t hesitate to sell government secrets and take up arms dealing himself. He knew the major players.

  All that would disappear if the government discovered he was still alive.

  Too much thinking. He glanced over at Kirke. She’d resisted sleep for a while. Now he heard her soft, regular breathing.

  He went over to a bag he’d tucked behind the TV while she’d been in the restroom. He opened it and took out the gun. He checked to make sure it was still loaded and then tucked it next to his shooting hand.

  Then he closed his eyes. Two or three hours’ sleep would do wonders.

  What had Del Cox meant to say? Why now? Why not in the past seven years, while he was wasting away in prison?

  Perhaps they could sort it out tomorrow.

  He suddenly realized he was thinking in terms of we rather than I. He hadn’t done that in a very long time, not since two good friends had been killed years earlier.

  Atlanta could be just as deadly now. The C-4 proved that.

  And, God help him, this time innocents were involved, and he wasn’t at all sure he could protect them any better than he’d protected Chet and Ramos.

  CHAPTER 18

  Kirke woke to daylight.

  She tried to ignore it and buried her head in the pillows.

  But the sun was filtering through the windows. She could feel it, and daylight always woke her.

  She didn’t want to acknowledge it. She heard a squawk. It was Merlin’s demand for breakfast. She couldn’t complain. It was far better than Merlin’s scream when he was angry. She opened her eyes. The room was empty except for Merlin’s covered cage.

  She sat up and shook her head, trying to orient herself. Her gaze darted to the table with its jumble of boxes and other food items. Not a dream. These past few days had been no dream. Or nightmare.

  Where was Jake?

  She looked at the clock. Seven a.m. She hadn’t gone to bed until after three.

  She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The door between her room and Sam’s was slightly open.

  She stood and went to the window. Jake’s car was still there.

  Kirke went into the bathroom and rinsed her face with cold water before glancing at herself in the mirror and wincing. Never much of a beauty, she was particularly appalling this morning. Her black eye had turned a rainbow of colors, and the bandage had fallen off her check, revealing a small red gash. Her hair stuck out all over, and her complexion was pale.

  “Drat,” she said in utter disgust.

  She hated not being in control, and she was definitely not in control at the moment. She wasn’t even in control of her own emotions. She felt as if she was a piece of metal irresistibly being drawn to a magnet.

  “You’re better than this,” she scolded herself.

  She looked longingly at the shower. Her hair was a disaster, and she wanted to feel icy water to wake her up, then warm water to soothe. But she didn’t know where Jake was.

  Safety was something she would never take for granted again.

  She satisfied herself by splashing water on her face again and running a brush through her hair. She didn’t even have any powder or cover-up to apply to the bruise.

  She hated to feel so powerless. Even in that small matter.

  A knock ended her momentary self-pity. The infamous knock, she thought.

  She took one last look at herself. She still wore the wrinkled T-shirt and shorts, and her face was a still for a horror movie. She opened the door, and Jake stood there, three large paper cups in his hands. She smelled coffee.

  She snatched a cup and put both hands around it, welcoming the warmth and smell. She lived on coffee. “Thank you,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward.

  “It’s black,” he said, “but I brought some cream and sugar.”

  “Just black.”

  His gaze was as inscrutable as usual, but she saw it roam over her face and linger a second longer than necessary on her body. Heat rose in her, and she felt her cheeks blush.

  Merlin squawked again. The fact he was using bird speak instead of people speak was telling. He was obviously disgruntled at being uprooted and neglected.

  “He’s not talking,” Jake said.

  She had finally decided to think of him as Jake. Just plain Jake. Until last night, she’d tried to think of him as Jake Kelly, or David Cable, or anything that wasn’t as intimate—and friendly—as only his first name. But that was rather ridiculous now that they had shared a room together. Of a kind.

  “He’s frightened, I think,” she said. “We believed he was passed around a lot as a yo
ung bird. He’s okay in my house and Sam’s, but this is a new place, and when he’s upset, he doesn’t talk. Only a couple of screeches so far. We’ve been lucky.”

  To her surprise, he went over to Merlin’s cage and opened it. He stuck out his arm, and Merlin flew to it.

  Jake seemed to know instinctively what to do. He ran his fingers along the bird’s feathers as lightly as his fingers had touched her very early this morning. Merlin preened and spread his wings. Then he did something it took months for him to do with both Sam and herself. He put his head against Jake’s neck.

  “You’ve bribed him,” she accused.

  “No, I just brought him fruit.”

  It wasn’t only that, Kirke knew. It was the quiet assurance about him, a steadiness that Merlin responded to.

  “He’s not going to like going with your friend,” he said unexpectedly.

  “No. But he’ll be safe until all this is over.”

  “Tell me about this friend.”

  “She’s a reporter with the Atlanta Observer.” She paused, then added, “Her husband’s with the FBI.”

  Jake didn’t react, but then he seldom did. He always took things in, silently weighed them, then did what he wanted to do.

  “He’s out of the city,” she added.

  “And what are you going to tell her about me?” he asked curiously.

  “I don’t know. I probably won’t say anything at all. No one knows about you.”

  “How much does she know?”

  “Only that I need a rest.”

  “She must be a very good friend.”

  “She’s always been intrigued by Merlin. In fact, I got Merlin from a friend of hers who works with animal rescue, so she kinda owes me on that one. She’s also considering finding a rescue parrot of her own. This will be a good trial run.”

  “And will Merlin be equally as pleased?” he asked, his hands cradling the damn bird. Merlin was loving it.

  Well, she had, too, a few hours ago.

  She only hoped her eyes didn’t reveal exactly how much. She glanced away and walked to the window. The view wasn’t great. Parking lot and then the expressway. Already at seven, it was bumper-to-bumper.

  “Have you thought any more about this Dallas?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?” she finally said after he didn’t add to his short reply.

  He shrugged. “It’s all I have to go on.”

  “You’re going there?”

  “When I know the two of you are safe,” he said.

  The two of you. She and Sam. There had never been the two of them, as far as any romantic interest went, and after today she and Sam may not even be friends. Except for those few exchanges earlier this morning, Sam had been nothing but hostile.

  As if summoned, Sam wandered into the room.

  He looked sleepy-eyed and as mussed as she felt. “I don’t do dawn,” he groused.

  “There’s some coffee,” she said, gesturing toward the table.

  “I’d rather have a Coke.”

  That she knew. He usually got up in the afternoon.

  “There’s a machine down the hall,” Jake said.

  “There might be bad guys out there,” Sam said sarcastically.

  Kirke realized that Sam’s mellow attitude early this morning had faded with daylight. He was angry, and Sam rarely got angry. He was usually relaxed and took life as it came with a shrug.

  “I checked earlier,” Jake said evenly.

  “I bet you did,” Sam retorted, “Now that you’ve involved Kirke in whatever dangerous plan you have.”

  Merlin left Jake’s arm and retreated back into his cage as if fleeing from the tension in the room.

  “He didn’t involve me,” Kirke said. “I involved me.”

  “I let it get beyond control,” Jake disagreed.

  She shook her head. “The moment this Gene Adams, or whoever he is, saw me take the envelope from the hit-and-run victim, I became a target.”

  “The police might have helped,” Sam interjected.

  “Might or might not,” she said, not waiting for Jake to reply. She was more committed than ever to his cause now. She believed him. She believed in him. An injustice had been done, and if there was one thing she hated more than anything, it was injustice.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Jake said. “You both are involved, and the cops don’t provide twenty-four-hour protection.”

  “What do you suggest?” Sam said.

  “Do you have someplace to go for a week or so?”

  “And lose my job?”

  Jake speared him with that hard gaze of his. “What happens when you get sick?”

  “I don’t,” Sam replied.

  “Then a family emergency?”

  “Go, Sam,” Kirke broke in. “You know Marshall will keep your place open. He thinks you’re the best.” She paused, then added, “Which you are. It’s a good time to visit your brother.

  “Where is he?” Jake asked.

  Sam looked rebellious, even as he answered slowly, “Denver. He plays bass in a small club there. We used to have a small band together in high school.”

  “Anyone else know about it?”

  “Some at the club know I have a brother, but they don’t know where. Jeb and I parted under less than happy circumstances.”

  “Can you leave today?”

  Sam hesitated.

  Jake took out two of the prepaid credit cards he’d bought before leaving Chicago. He’d intended one for Kirke, but he thought Sam needed it more now. “There’s $500 on each. Untraceable. Don’t use any of your own credit cards.”

  “I can pay for it,” Sam said, although Kirke knew he always lived on the edge of financial disaster.

  “I don’t doubt it, but you have to go because of me, and I don’t want a trail. Can you take your friend’s van?”

  “I think so.”

  “Don’t go back to the house. Buy what you need along the way.”

  Sam’s eyes were very alert now. He wasn’t happy, Kirke knew, but he realized they were out of their league here. Few people could match Sam’s talent with the sax, but he didn’t have a hostile or elusive bone in his body.

  “Please, Sam, take them and go,” Kirke said. “You’ve been saying you wanted to see your brother again.”

  Sam was slow in answering. “And then what?” he finally asked.

  “I’ll lead him away from you,” Jake said. “I’ll try to bring him out in the open.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll go by the house and pick up a few more things. He’ll follow. You two will have disappeared. He’ll have nothing but me.”

  “If it doesn’t work?”

  “It will. He wants to get rid of me in case Cox had managed to pass information to Kirke, and she passed it to me. He knows I’ll come after him if he doesn’t get me first.”

  “What about Kirke?”

  Jake turned to her. “She has to disappear for a few days as well.”

  Kirke didn’t reply. She had no intention of disappearing on her own. If she was going to be in danger, she was going to be in danger on her own terms, and that meant confronting it rather than running and waiting for disaster.

  “Kirke?” Sam persisted.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. “There are places I can go.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” Sam offered.

  Kirke looked sideways at Jake. His expression didn’t change, nor did his eyes. He was the most outwardly emotionless man she’d ever met. So why was she so damned attracted to him? She’d always liked open people who laughed and cried and shared both joys and grief.

  She shook her head. “I have friends. I’ve already asked for time off, and my boss said to take as much as I needed.”

  Sam hesitated.

  “Get your cola,” she said.

  Sam looked rebellious but disappeared through the door, and she heard his outer door open and close.

  She studied Jake for a moment. “I want to go wit
h you,” she finally said.

  “Hell no.”

  “This man—this Adams—might not go after you. He wants me right now. He had a chance at you and came after me, instead. He might wait until I return, and I can’t stay away forever.” She paused, then said, “I’ll be safer with you than I would be alone. I don’t know what he looks like or what to look for. You do.”

  Sam returned with soda can in hand, cutting off the conversation. She turned silent. Sam would never leave if he didn’t think she was doing the same.

  Jake opened the package of donuts he’d bought last night and put several pieces of fruit in Merlin’s cage.

  Merlin didn’t touch them, and Kirke was stricken. Merlin usually consumed everything immediately. His lack of appetite said everything he wasn’t saying.

  And now to save him, she would have to leave him for a few days.

  At least Merlin knew Robin. Had reacted well to her.

  Still, she hated to leave him. She didn’t want him to feel abandoned again.

  The phone rang, and she jumped. Robin. She was within ten minutes of the hotel.

  “You said she would take Spade for a few days?” Sam said.

  Kirke nodded. “She has a cat, Daisy. Probably would like the company.”

  “Is she familiar with Merlin’s vocabulary?”

  “Not entirely,” Kirke admitted. “Merlin has pretty much been on his good behavior when she’s been around.”

  She went over to him. “I’m sorry, Sam. I never thought you would be involved.”

  He gave her a quick hug. “You’ve cleaned up some of my messes.” He moved away. “I’ll get my things together and make a few calls.” He glanced at Jake. “And no, I won’t tell anyone where I’m going.”

  Jake tossed him the new cell phone she’d seen last night. “Use this from now on. Kirke and I have the number.”

  “And mine?”

  “Keep it off. You can check messages on your old phone, but don’t call from it.”

  “Kirke needs one as well.”

  “I have another one.” He rattled off the number.

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you get so much money if you just left prison?”

  “My father,” he said slowly. A flicker in his eyes told her he knew what prompted the question. “He left me what he had. Someone invested it for me.”