Running Target

by Kari Lemor

  “Then let me help you. I know my way around a computer pretty well. And I might be able to guess some of Victor’s possible passwords.”

  They moved to the desk, Callie silently appreciating the way Jack’s jeans hugged his hips and butt. Focus. Don’t think about sex right now. They needed to get information against Victor.

  She reached for the switch to turn it on and Jack pressed his lips to her neck once more. Butterflies stormed through her stomach and her back arched subconsciously. Leaning down, he placed his hand on the desk then stopped as voices sounded outside the door.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Were they coming in here? Damn, they couldn’t get caught here together. Could they get through the wine cellar door in time?

  “The information is on my computer. It won’t take more than a few minutes…” Victor’s voice rang out as he walked in with two other men in tuxedos.

  “Stay back or I slice open her neck,” Jack threatened loud enough for the men to hear, one arm snaking around her waist.

  She cried out in surprise. What was he doing? Lifting her hands to her neck she felt a knife, but it was turned sideways. It couldn’t do any damage unless she moved around too much. Luckily it was dark enough not to notice.

  “Waters!” Victor cried, anger radiating off him. He was more concerned about the man with the knife than her?

  “Victor, please,” she sobbed. The mobster couldn’t know she and Jack were in on this together. Hence the knife. But how would he get away? If Victor got him, he was dead. Tears pooled in her eyes, real tears. She couldn’t lose him. Not when they were getting closer to having a life together.

  “Waters,” Victor bellowed again. “You have no beef with her. Let her go.”

  Finally, some concern for her.

  Victor turned to speak to the two men with him but Jack barked out, “Stop. Make them come in, close the door and lock it. If either of them moves more than they should, she’s dead.”

  She let out another heart-wrenching sob. No need to pretend as she was petrified. Victor nodded at them and they did as Jack asked.

  “Now have them sit on the sofa. And remember, one false move and this knife slices through her very beautiful throat.”

  The men moved to the couch across the room and sat. At least now they were farther away. But Victor had moved closer, rage building like a storm in every movement.

  “What do you want? To kill me, like you did my son? You won’t get away with it this time. This whole place is crawling with my security guards.”

  “Your security guards are idiots or I wouldn’t be here,” he scoffed. He pulled her in tighter, keeping her firmly in front of him. Did these men have guns? Could they shoot Jack while he was standing right here, holding her? How would she live with herself if she allowed that to happen?

  “He pulled me in from the hallway. Wanted me to tell him the combination to the safe,” she blurted out then gave a squeal as Jack pressed the knife closer to her neck. It still wasn’t digging in though. Faking a tiny whimper, she continued. “I told him you didn’t have one in here. He didn’t believe me. He wants information for one of your competitors.”

  Jack pinched her waist and she cried out again. Something liquid dripped down her neck. Blood?

  “Shut up, you stupid bitch. I should kill you simply for hanging around this slime ball. Now, Cabrini, if you don’t want my knife to carve up any more of this lovely lady, you’ll back off and go sit with your friends on the couch.”

  Victor stood where he was, his face grim, his jaw tight. Would he do it? Would he push Jack, forcing him to try another way out?

  Sobbing harder, she stared at the mobster. “Please, Victor. Please.” It wasn’t hard to force the tears. The thought of what would happen to Jack if he couldn’t get away sliced through her, sharp as the knife at her throat.

  Her tears must have worked because Victor took a few cautious steps toward the couch. Jack backed toward the hidden door. Did Victor know where he was going? The door didn’t look open.

  “You won’t get away with this, Waters. You won’t make it past the front door.”

  “Sit,” Jack ordered. Victor did and he pulled open the secret door, pulling her along with him. Once through, he jammed a long piece of wood against it, grabbed her hand and ran.

  “Just go,” she muttered as they ran along the underground tunnel. “I’ll be fine. You need to get away.”

  She stumbled on the long fabric of her dress but Jack caught her. Putting his arm around her waist, he continued running. She grabbed the hem and lifted. Good thing she hadn’t worn higher heels.

  Light appeared near a door and he slowed down. “I won’t bring you any farther unless there are guards outside. Hopefully Cabrini hasn’t had time to alert them and get them here yet.”

  Opening the door, he glanced outside. Then he swept her against him, kissing her long and hard. Reaching up, he wiped his hand along her neck. Blood.

  “Where did that come from? I didn’t even feel you cut me.”

  “I didn’t. I cut my own finger. Wanted Cabrini to think I was serious. I could never cut this beautiful neck.”

  She stroked her hand down his cheek. “Be careful, Jack. Please.”

  Nodding, he released her. She hated to see him go but he couldn’t stay.

  “Wait, you called me a bitch.” Her lips twitched.

  He kissed her again, quicker this time. “But you’re my bitch.”

  Sounds behind them echoed through the tunnels and Jack zipped through the door. Walking a few yards down the tunnel she collapsed on the ground, crying.

  “Callina, where did he go?” Victor’s first concern was Jack? She hated this man.

  She sobbed harder, hoping Jack had gotten away. Raising a shaky hand, she pointed in a vague direction. Victor motioned for someone to pick her up and carry her back to the house, then slipped through the door and disappeared.

  Back in the office, she told the guard to put her on the couch where she curled up in a ball, tears still coursing down her cheeks. Too close. They’d almost caught Jack. Could still catch him if he wasn’t fast enough. What had he been thinking coming here?

  Minutes passed and the sound of the party continued outside the door. Victor finally came through the secret entrance, his countenance letting her know Jack had gotten away. She softened her cries, staying curled into a ball.

  He moved around the room, conferring with several people, completely ignoring her. Not that she minded since he was talking about how he would catch ‘Waters’. With the mobster’s plans, she could warn Jack.

  “I need to make sure he didn’t get anything from the safe. Leave me alone for a minute while I check.” Victor dismissed his associates then glanced her way. She had her hands over her eyes and sobbed a bit more. He must have figured she was no threat, so he moved toward the fireplace and removed one of the bricks. Another group of bricks swung out, revealing a small safe.

  Holding her breath, she shifted to try and see the combination he used. She peeked through a small slit between her fingers. The first number was ten and the next one twenty-three. He turned the dial again…It was Angelo’s birthday. Easy enough to remember. But would she ever get a chance to see what was in there? And was it enough to put Victor away for good?

  Victor closed up the safe and walked toward her. “Callina, dear, are you injured in any way?”

  Oh, so now he asks. Good thing she wasn’t bleeding to death. Holding where Jack had pressed the knife and where he’d bled on her, she gave a few tiny sobs and sniffed, “I want to go home. Please, have someone bring me home.”

  “Of course, dear. I’ll have a driver come round the front immediately. I’m so sorry you had to be involved with this. We’ll get this monster, don’t you worry.”

  Sitting up, she wiped the moisture from her face but continued to sniff periodically. Within a
few minutes, she had her coat and purse and was leaning against the back seat of Victor’s best limo. As they rolled down the long driveway, she took out her phone and texted Jack, asking him to respond as soon as he could, let her know he was all right.

  The phone vibrated almost immediately.

  GOT AWAY NO PROB. HOW’S MY BITCH?

  She laughed then glanced at the front but the driver had the window partition up and couldn’t hear her.

  She texted back:

  MISSING YOU.

  There was no response so she settled back for the long drive. About fifteen minutes later the rumble of a motorcycle roared near the passenger side back window. Who would be stupid enough to be riding a motorcycle in New Jersey on New Year’s Eve? It was freezing out.

  When the bike stayed level with the car for a few minutes, she peeked out the window. The sight of the familiar leather jacket and snug jeans, made her heart sore. He turned his head for a second, saluted, then roared off ahead of them.

  She sighed as tears of relief spilled down her face. Jack had gotten away and Victor thought he worked for a competitor. And she’d learned the whereabouts and combination to Victor’s private safe. One his associates didn’t even know about.

  There was nothing she could do right away. Victor would suspect too much if she showed up at his house soon. But in a few weeks, yeah, she could make up some excuse for a visit. Then she’d need some reason to be left alone in his office for a while. Her mind whirred, ideas coming and going. Assessing each one for possible risks, she either threw them out or stuck them in a corner of her mind to work on further. This was a two-hour ride. It should be enough time to come up with a feasible plan to get the information the authorities needed to put Victor away for good.

  And once they did, would she and Jack be able to finally be a family? Would he want that? He’d offered to take her and Jonathan away to another country but had he been serious? He’d never mentioned wanting to marry her. Could she live with him, never knowing when he would be hurt or killed in his job? She still wanted a quiet life. And with Jack she was afraid it was something she would never get.

  * * * *

  The little white stick had turned blue.

  Callie let out a breath, not sure if she was happy or sad. Definitely confused. She loved Jack Holland and could think of nothing better than carrying another child of his. Jonathan was precious to her and this child would be too.

  But too many complications arose from this pregnancy. Jack was still on the run. It had been difficult going through her first pregnancy and delivery without him. Yes, Heather had been there for her and she would be again, if she was needed. Was it too much to ask that the father of her child be present at the birth, and more? She wanted him to laugh and cry with her as their child entered into this world.

  And Victor? How would she explain this to Victor? She hadn’t been dating anyone since Angelo. He’d be suspicious if she suddenly came up with some mystery man. Especially if she couldn’t make him materialize. One night stands weren’t her style and he knew that.

  The only solution would be to make sure Victor was put away before she began to show. She was barely a month along so it could be a few more before anyone suspected. Could they do it that quickly? The FBI had been working on it for years and hadn’t accomplished anything. But they didn’t have access to Victor’s personal safe and his home computer.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. The plan she’d come up with during her drive back from the New Year’s Eve party suddenly came to life. If she wanted to be free of Victor and have any chance with Jack, she needed to take this risk. Hopefully, she wouldn’t regret it.

  * * * *

  “Why’s the light on inside?” Jack asked as he and Scott approached the trailer at the Pennsylvania construction site. Scott turned the handle easily, causing him to pause. “And why isn’t the door locked?”

  His cousin stepped inside and Jack trusted him enough to follow.

  “I thought we needed to call in a little help.”

  “What are you talking about? Help with construction?” He stopped inside the door at the sight of the three large men lounging on the battered furniture. “What the hell’s going on? Some kind of intervention?”

  Chris Shaunessy, the blond, blue-eyed FBI agent shrugged. “You could say that.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck for. I’m not an alcoholic or a druggie.” The only thing he was addicted to was Callie. He’d been without her for a few weeks. Longer if you didn’t count the twenty minutes he’d seen her at the Cabrini estate on New Year’s Eve.

  “This shit has gone on too long and we should’ve done something about it years ago.” Andrew ‘Drew’ Thayer stood and clapped Jack on the shoulder. “We’ve all been too busy with our lives to help out with yours. Not to the degree we should have.”

  “It’s my life and none of you needs to get messed up in it. Cabrini is bad news. He’s got your friends, your bosses and co-workers all wrapped up tight in his pocket.”

  “Then we empty his pockets and take him down,” growled Nicholas Kensington-White, the trucker who’d helped him travel a few places throughout the country. Merely Nick White to anyone who knew him well.

  He looked at Scott who grinned.

  “Don’t get pissed, Jack. I didn’t do this for you. I did it for Callie and Jonathan. And maybe you a bit too, but the FBI has fumbled the ball on this one.”

  “That’s because the FBI has their inflated heads up their asses.” Keith Cho walked in and closed the door behind him. “No offense, Shaunessy.”

  Keith was a Boston cop and always liked to razz him and Chris about cops being better than Feds. At this point he had to agree with the man.

  Chris glared but answered, “None taken.”

  Moving to the tiny fridge, Jack pulled out a six-pack. He grabbed one and dropped the rest in Nick’s lap. He took one and passed it on.

  “There better be more of this somewhere,” Keith said, tipping the can to his lips. “I didn’t drive all this frickin’ way to just have one.”

  “I’ve got a cooler in the car,” Scott informed him. “We need to put our heads together first and figure out a way to get Cabrini the hell away from Jack. Too much of this” he lifted his beer, “and we’ll be skydiving into his pool. Not the best of plans.”

  “Hey, that plan was solid,” Nick snapped, referring to a prank he’d suggested while serving. “We could have gotten the goods and had a clean getaway. I don’t know why you guys keep badmouthing the idea.”

  “Because stealing the General’s cigars would have gotten us court-martialed before we even had a chance to smoke them,” Drew said.

  Jack laughed at the antics of his friends. “I appreciate all of you coming here, but this problem is mine and I can deal with it.”

  “Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” Chris asked, having slumped into the chair at the small kitchen table.

  “It isn’t. Not yet. But I need to get close enough to Cabrini and I can fix it.”

  Keith moved next to him and tilted his head. “I know we’ve all done a few things here and there the last couple years to see if there was any way to get you out of this. Maybe it’s finally time to get all our heads together collectively and come up with a strategy that’ll win this war. Something we’re all involved in.”

  “We did work well together in the sandbox. You gotta admit it,” Scott said.

  They had. They’d all had the same goal of staying alive and getting out of there, while taking out any insurgents that came along. Jack didn’t want to put any of his friends in danger. These guys were like brothers to him. Even if he didn’t see them often, he still trusted them implicitly. Probably the only people he trusted. Aside from Callie.

  “What kind of information do we have on this guy?” Keith asked.

  “I pulled what I could
from the Bureau computer,” Chris said. “But I had to be careful I didn’t leave a trace, so it may be incomplete.”

  “I dug a little too,” Drew added, picking up a file folder. “Working at the District’s Attorney’s office has advantages and I have connections I can use.”

  Jack stared at the file. “You trust these people?”

  “I was careful.”

  Taking a deep breath, he moved to a cabinet and grabbed the file he had on Cabrini then tossed it on the table.

  “If we’re going to do this, we should have all the information.”

  Picking up the file, Scott started reading the basic background on the mobster. They spent the next hour with the guys learning more about Cabrini than any of them ever wanted to know.

  “This dirt bag seems impermeable but he’s got to have some vulnerability.” Keith chucked some of the pages on the table.

  “His grandson,” Drew suggested.

  “No.” Jack grew hot thinking someone would use Jonathan in any way. None of the guys in the group knew the truth about his son, except Scott.

  “I know it’s sucky to involve a kid, but if it’s the guy’s weakness, we should use it.”

  “He’s my son, not Cabrini’s grandson.”

  The room grew silent as eyes all turned to him.

  “Falling for the informant?” Keith said. “That’s not SOP.”

  Chris coughed, his face flushed. He hadn’t followed Standard Operating Procedure either as he was now engaged to his own informant. “It happens sometimes.”

  Nick cleared his throat. “Guessing Cabrini doesn’t know this.”

  “No, and he can’t. Callie would be in danger. But it’s the main reason Scott brought you here I think. Jonathan’s starting to talk a lot more and if we can’t get rid of Cabrini, I need to stay out of their lives.”

  “Sounds like the best way to actually get Cabrini out of their lives is to get rid of this guy, permanently.” They all knew what Nick meant.