by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“Couldn’t get to it and it won’t matter, we’re getting out of here now. I spotted company downstairs. Someone was asking about her.”
“Someone just tried the doorknob. I thought it was housekeeping.”
“I’m betting it wasn’t.”
Darcy trusted his judgment.
“I’m checked out, we take the bags and get lost, fast. Did you contact the network?”
“I can’t get anyone to answer.” It was making her nervous.
When Cleo came out, they were ready.
“We go down the back stairs to the garage floor,” Jack said.
Darcy agreed. “Were they headed up here?”
“They got an ID on her, so yeah. We have about two minutes before they’re on this floor.” Jack looked out into the hall. “We have to make a run for it.”
“Oh, jeez,” Cleo said, tucked behind them.
“There’s a stairwell to the left. I want you to go first, then Cleo. I’ll be right behind you. Go to my car, I’ll come back for yours later.”
With her knives in easy access, Darcy stepped out. She looked left and right, then to Jack. He pushed them both ahead. “Go, go.”
They trotted down the steps, the echo in the stairwell making too much noise. They had to cover several floors and by the time they reached the last they were breathing hard and sweating. The bags felt like boulders.
Cleo jumped the last four steps.
Jack peered through the small wired-glass window leading to the parking area. “I’m parked in the far corner near the service elevator.” Jack opened the door, motioning to them and the women stepped out, heading straight to the car. Jack pinched the key ring, the car locks sprang and headlights blazed bright in the darkness. “Hurry, ladies!”
Darcy tossed the cases in beside Cleo, as Jack slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Locking her seat belt, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw two men, running, aiming guns.
“Oh, no, Jack. Move!” One was the man who’d attacked her!
“I see them. How’d the little bastard get out of jail already? Get down.”
Throwing the car in reverse, Jack hit the car alarm, the loud, constant pulse echoing through the parking garage as he backed out. He clipped a parked car, shifted, then slammed his foot on the gas. Gunshots blasted, one plunking into the side of the car.
“Cleo!” Jack swerved the car. “Cleo!”
Darcy twisted in the seat. “She’s okay, Jack.”
“Oh, God, the bullet’s in the door, right beside me!”
“Dammit, who are these people?” Darcy snapped.
Jack handed her his gun. “If they shoot, shoot back. Aim low, at the tires.”
Darcy swallowed, taking the gun, and glanced in the side mirrors. A black sedan was damn near kissing the bumper. Jack took a curve and gunned the engine harder, bouncing up the car-lined corridor, the bottom of the car hitting the pavement and sending up a burst of sparks. The car fishtailed to the right, and he corrected, the vehicle swerving before it lurched out of the garage and into the street like Jonah spit from the whale.
Cars swerved to avoid them and he headed toward the highway. It was the only way they could lose them.
“Shoot!”
Darcy opened the window, leaning out.
This is not as easy as it looks on TV, she thought. She pulled the trigger and the car behind them swerved hard.
Jack jammed on the gas and Darcy fell back into the seat.
Cleo was looking out the back window and slowly brought her gaze to Darcy. “Nice shot, girl.”
Darcy handed Jack back the gun as if it was infected.
“Well, we know one thing,” Jack said.
Darcy looked at him. His gaze was shooting all over, the mirrors, the road, then her. “Whoever orchestrated Rainy Miller’s death is out to make certain no one knows why.”
Chapter 13
The egg mining conspiracy, as Darcy had come think of it, knew where Cleo had been all this time. They’d watched her, noticed who she’d spoken with and Darcy realized that contacting Tony “Touchy” Feeley had put them on Cleo’s trail again. And on hers.
Darcy could kick herself.
She’d hidden from Maurice, kept much of her life from her Athena sisters and now she was on the verge of losing everything. More people would be hurt, she thought with a glance at Cleo asleep in the seat behind her.
Jack seemed to sense her anxiety and reached out, covered her hand and squeezed. “We’ll make it.”
Darcy could only nod, then pulled out her cell and dialed one of her contacts. She didn’t have time for the safe house. It was too far away. She had to hide Cleo tonight. She couldn’t risk a tail to her home, her business. She waited for Steve or Krissie Bishop to pick up.
“I have a package.”
“Jeez, Piper, don’t you ever rest?” Steve said, grouchy.
“Life happens all the time,” she said and regretted her waspish tone. “Sorry. This is major. My package has to go deep. Now.”
Behind her, Cleo roused, listening.
“No, I don’t have time for the usual routes. Or a good cover.” She listened as Steven Bishop gave her options. They would take her under if she got Cleo to the change point, a warehouse that Steve and Krissie had set up to house women while Steve made new IDs for them.
Darcy checked her watch, then glanced at the mileage road sign. “In the late afternoon. It will take me that long and I have to cover my tracks. Great.” She cut the line, laying the phone on the console.
“Whazzup, girl?”
Darcy met Jack’s gaze, then looked at Cleo. “I’m going to hide you for a while. You won’t be able to work, but these people will help you stay safe.”
“I need to work, Piper.”
Darcy didn’t correct her name. The less anyone knew, the better. “I know, but consider that your life is at risk. Make a choice.”
Cleo sighed hard. “You’re right. But doing nothing’s going to make me crazy. What can I contribute?”
“What are you good at?”
“Besides shaking my ass to music, not much.”
Jack laughed shortly and kept driving. “Ass shaking is a good living I hear,” he said.
“Yeah, but I have money now. I’ve saved for years. I wanted to marry, retire and have my own babies.”
Darcy smiled sympathetically. Regardless of the circumstances of the pregnancy, it couldn’t have been easy losing the child, especially knowing that people ruthless enough to cut her wrists had the baby.
“It’ll be all right, Cleo. We’ll find the child and get the bastards who hurt you.”
“You think?” Cleo scoffed, not at all convinced.
“I know.” Determination strengthened her tone. “But you can’t touch the rest of your money or go home after today, or they’ll know. Maybe we can get someone to go back if there’s something important you need, but for now, all ties have to be cut. I can’t be certain but I have a feeling these people have their fingers in networks that I can’t even imagine.”
Cleo shifted, sighing. “Well, I’m good with computers.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as the computer-geek type.”
“Hey, geeks are cool.” She flashed her a smile. “I didn’t go out much, so yeah, I can find my way around a computer.”
“Good, but don’t touch your accounts, credit cards, nothing. You won’t need to. My friends will put you to work, trust me.”
Cleo nodded, agreeing to the terms that would change her entire life for God knew how long.
Jack drove without stopping. Darcy made a call to the Bishops and directed Jack to a warehouse. As they approached, the huge door rolled up. Once they were inside, it shut and the lights came on. Krissie and Steven Bishop walked out.
Darcy and Jack climbed out. Steve was walking toward her till he saw Jack and stopped short.
“Turner?”
“Hello, Bishop.”
Darcy frowned between the two men. Steve Bi
shop was an ex-cop. His wife had been a dispatcher. They were the heartbeat of the network, moving women from here to the safe houses. The last time she’d seen them was with Mary Jo.
“You know each other?” Darcy asked.
Jack slid her a glance. “Yeah. We went to the academy together. I’m not on the force anymore, Steve.”
“How’d she get you into this?”
“Osmosis, I guess.” Jack winked at Darcy.
Cleo climbed out, looking around and drawing attention. Darcy introduced her.
Bright and always cheery, Krissie nudged past her husband, saying, “You can stay with us, help out here till we can move deeper. There is no place safer right now, Cleo. We’ll give you a new identity, but I think it’s best if you stay out of sight.” She glanced at Darcy for confirmation, then looked back at Cleo. “Sorry, but as a woman, you’re just too tall to go around unnoticed.”
Darcy didn’t tell the Bishops that Cleo was a showgirl. That was Cleo’s choice. All they knew was that Cleo had to hide, yet had to be accessible to Darcy. She didn’t give details, yet she was certain Alex or Kayla would want to interview Cleo, and knowing Tory, she’d want to document the entire investigation. It was safer if only Darcy knew where Cleo was.
“You okay with that?” Darcy said to Cleo.
“Anything is better than dead, thank you.”
Darcy smiled, then looked at Steve. “By the way, Cleo knows computers.”
He clutched his chest. “Woman after my own heart.”
Krissie groaned. “Oh goody, another one who talks in megabytes.”
Smiling, Steve nodded toward the setup in the loft. “Come on, let’s get you a new identity, and I’ll show you around.”
Jack moved up beside Darcy and she looked at him. “So this is how you get it all done, the fake IDs?”
“Yeah. There are a few more stations like this, but this is where the most work is done. Are you mad?”
“No, but I can see several violations from here.”
She groaned. “I know, Jack. Why do you think I wanted to keep you out of this?”
“I understand, but it scares the hell out of me that you take risks like this.”
Cleo walked toward them and stared at Darcy. “You okay?” Darcy asked.
“Thanks. I feel safe for the first time in a long while.” Cleo reached out, hugging Darcy and nearly bringing her off the floor. “Thank you so much. I’d be dead without your help, and I won’t forget that.”
Darcy held tight, liking the woman and praying this all worked out before anyone else got hurt. “Do what they say, Cleo,” she said when they parted. Her eyes burned. “If they need to move you somewhere else, do it. This is my number.” She gave her another card with her number. “Memorize it. And if you need me or think anyone’s getting close, call me. I’ll come to you.”
“My own personal cavalry, huh?” Cleo pushed the card inside her bra.
Darcy smiled, reaching for Jack’s hand. “You could say so.”
“You and your friends will keep looking for the child?”
“Yeah, we will.” Whether the child Cleo had carried was Rainy’s or not didn’t matter right now. Matching up DNA when and if they found the girl would give them the answer. But it was the conspiracy, the entire manipulation of Athena Academy, its resources and the students, that needed to be uncovered. The trouble she’d encountered already told Darcy that this was more widespread than any of them thought. There could be other babies…well grown women or men now, that had been created by these people. The biggest question still was, why?
“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.”
