by V. K. Powell
“Are you okay in there?” Ellen whispered through the door. “You better hurry. The natives are getting restless.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I can’t come home yet. I have to go now. I’ll be in touch.”
“Abigail, please…” She disconnected, unable to bear the sadness in her mother’s voice. She wanted to make a difference in the world, but it seemed all she did was cause more pain. Now she understood the necessity of intelligence agents and spies without personal attachments. She had to find a way to see her family, if only briefly. She owed them that peace of mind.
“Here he comes,” Ellen whispered through the restroom door.
She closed the phone, pretended to wash her hands, and opened the door, slipping Ellen’s cell into her pocket as she passed.
“Are you ready?” Carl’s voice relayed his characteristic impatience.
“Ready.” She gave Ellen an appreciative smile and followed Carl out.
“We need to talk when we get home.” He guided her to the car and held the door as she got in. His tone wasn’t friendly, and the thought of being alone with him made her cringe.
“About what?”
“Business. We need to discuss business.” Carl Torre had never consulted her about business. He seemed content to have her perform miscellaneous domestic tasks. Why the sudden change? Perhaps she’d judged him too harshly. Maybe underneath his façade of bravado was a gentler, more caring man, like his uncle Simon. She wanted to believe in the good.
On the way back to the Torre compound, she stared out the window and thought about the phone call she’d made and the one she hadn’t. Each broke her heart for similar and very different reasons. She loved her family and Loane, but she could return to her family at any time and be welcomed. She doubted Loane would be so forgiving. Did she think Abby had simply abandoned her? Would she even allow her to explain if their paths crossed again? How would she feel if their roles were reversed? She hoped Loane would at least understand her commitment to follow through on an assignment.
The only thing she knew for sure was that Hector Barrio wanted her to stay with the Torre family and pursue any leads that developed. He hadn’t given her an informant’s handbook when he hired her, and she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. She was playing it by ear, but he seemed to trust her judgment. She’d have to make another decision soon because her cast was coming off in a few days. Right now her more immediate problem was the talk with Carl.
After lunch, he asked Abby to join him in the study located at the back of the residential complex. The place reminded her of a panic room made of solid walnut paneling and bulletproof windows. He could hole up in here for days with the food and drinks in the stocked refrigerators. It wasn’t a comforting thought.
He closed the door behind her and motioned to one of the tufted-leather wingback chairs. “Do you know what I want to talk to you about, Abby?”
“No.” She was more certain of her answer than anything else at the moment.
“You were very resourceful and dedicated the night of the explosion. I saw a different side of the young, petite woman who’d been only a family assistant. You have potential. I’ve been watching you since you came back to Miami.”
A flutter of panic rippled through her as she waited for Carl to tell her that he knew she was working with ATF and to what…have her snuffed out, kidnapped and dropped in a third-world country? If he’d seen potential, what else had she inadvertently revealed? Her imagination was getting the best of her. She remained silent, afraid that if she said anything her nerves would give her away.
“You risked your life for Blake and you’ve been loyal to my family. I’d like to offer you more responsibility with the business, if you’re interested.”
It took a minute for her to realize that Carl wasn’t upset but asking for help, and that was very uncharacteristic. He’d never indicated that he liked her, much less considered her particularly capable. She had to be careful not to appear too eager. “It depends on the offer.”
“Would you go back to Greensboro and manage the Sky Bar for me?”
It took a moment for the question to register before the internal struggle began. A lot had happened there, most of it still unresolved. She flashed back to Loane—naked, incredibly sexy, head thrown back as she climaxed. Her heart leapt at the thought of seeing her again, then plummeted. How would Loane react to her now? She had every right to be angry. Hell, she didn’t even know if Loane was still there. Could she handle it if Loane rejected her?
“I’m asking a lot. I know it’ll be hard for you to return.” Carl’s voice had taken on a gentleness she’d never heard.
Her grief tipped over the edge and she let her tears fall. “I’m sorry, Carl.”
“You were very close to Simon, Sylvia, and Alma.”
“Yes, I was.” Her tears were for Loane, but she was relieved he had misread them. “I miss them. I wish I could’ve done something.”
He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Abby. No one blames you.” He handed her a tissue and waited until she stopped crying. “Do you have any idea who would want to hurt them?”
They’d discussed this almost every week but found no answers or resolution. The questions always filled her with sadness and guilt. She wanted to find out who was behind their deaths. What if she failed? The weight of unwanted responsibility settled on her again and she struggled to breathe. “I…I…”
“My sources tell me a local female police officer was investigating my uncle. She’s been dismissed and has disappeared—perhaps she was involved. Do you know anything about that?”
The air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. Her mouth went dry as she tried to keep her expression neutral. “Simon was under suspicion? For what?” Her first impulse had been to ask about Loane. She hoped she’d covered well enough to fool him. If Carl believed Loane had something to do with the explosion, she was in danger, and Abby couldn’t vouch for her without revealing their relationship and blowing her cover.
“I’m not sure. Did he ever say anything to you about being investigated?” Carl asked. “Anything to indicate he suspected something illegal was going on?”
Abby shook her head. The question struck her as odd, but she was more concerned about the implications for Loane in this mess. If Carl was right, why had Loane been dismissed? Was she blamed for letting Abby go to the Torre house unprotected or for the explosion? Possibilities bled into facts, coloring them with uncertainty, and a prickle of fear shot up her spine.
Carl had never mentioned specifics of the investigation before. What other information did he have and where had it come from? Abby had to find Loane and warn her—but what if this was a trick? What if Carl knew they had been lovers? They hadn’t told anyone except Eve Winters, and Loane trusted her with her life. Strange that it could come down to exactly that. If she returned to Greensboro and contacted Loane, she would lead Carl to her, and he might not take time to find out if she was guilty.
A band tightened around Abby’s heart as she struggled to cover her emotions. She fought the urge to escape and take the first plane back to North Carolina. Her earlier thoughts of a reunion with Loane and the fear of possible rejection now seemed selfish. She wanted to find and protect her. She could handle a lifetime of rejection as long as Loane was safe. Suddenly her decision not to call Loane seemed justified, but it gave her little consolation.
“I’m not sure what the police thought Simon had done, but they were wrong.”
Carl’s statement returned her to the task at hand—keep herself in Carl’s favor long enough to somehow warn Loane and close this case. “I can’t imagine. Simon was one of the kindest, most honest men I’ve ever met.”
“Yes, he was, and that’s why I have to find out what happened to him. Can I count on your help?”
“And my working in Greensboro will help?”
“I’ve asked Father to let me take over the Greensboro club, and he’s agreed. It’s very profitable
, and it would be a shame to let all my uncle’s work go to waste. With you in charge, I can focus on this other matter. If you need time to think about it, I understand, but I want you there as soon as possible.”
In Greensboro she’d be positioned to locate Loane, work the case, and keep tabs on Carl. Maybe his offer was exactly what she needed. “I don’t have any experience managing nightclubs.”
“Yes, but you know people, and that’s all management is—understanding people. The rest is bookkeeping, and you can hire whoever you want to handle that part of it.”
“Pardon me for saying this, but I have to know where we stand. You’ve never seemed particularly fond of me, so—”
“I’m a businessman and I want what’s best for the company and the family. We don’t have to be best friends to work together, do we?”
“No, but you do have to trust me and give me more flexibility.”
“You mean the bodyguards?”
“That’s part of it, yes. But I’d also expect to have a life outside work, to pay my own way, and live where I choose…without being under surveillance twenty-four seven. Personal privacy is important to me and I haven’t had much of that recently. It makes a woman surly. I want to date again…date women.” The dating part was a lie, but it would give her more freedom. “Will that be a problem?”
Carl’s lip curled into something resembling a smile. “My wife tells me I can be overbearing at times. And your preference has never been a problem for the family.”
She inclined her head in agreement. This was a dangerous negotiation, but she needed to establish boundaries that would not only ensure her sanity but also help with what lay ahead.
“I’ll give you whatever you need, but in return I expect your complete loyalty.” Carl’s voice assumed the hard edge that Abby was used to, and there was no doubt about his implication—cross me at your own risk.
“Then we have a deal. When do I go?” She felt guilty about leaving Stefan, Maria, Blake, and the rest of the family, but it was best. They’d grown closer during her convalescence, and that wasn’t good for someone in her position.
“As soon as you’re out of the cast and I’ve made a few arrangements. I’d like you to drive a small van back for me. We’re taking some furniture from here and I don’t want to wait for a moving company. It takes too long to schedule one this time of year.”
“I should be one hundred percent once this thing is gone.” She tapped the cast and smiled to cover her confusion. If her presence in Greensboro was so necessary, why was Carl wasting time by having her drive a van? Maybe this was all a ruse and she was being used as a mule to transport weapons. At least she’d be back in Greensboro before he arrived and would have time to find out and to warn Loane. “I’m ready to be doing something productive.” That meant locating Loane, reconnecting with her family, and eventually returning to a life without role-playing.
Chapter Seven
Loane wiped sweat from her forehead as she stood on Elm Street in front of the sleek granite-and-glass Center Pointe high-rise building. Glowing with accent and up lighting, it looked regal and imposing against the night sky. Like many other structures in the downtown area, it had been something else—a seventeen-story Wachovia Bank. Like her, it had been repurposed. But her new function wasn’t yet clear. A shiver of excitement and anticipation dimpled her skin as she followed the clean lines of the building skyward. She’d often wondered what this place was like, but Eve wouldn’t—would she? She double-checked the address.
“You’re at the right place. This is your new home.” Eve hooked her arm through Loane’s and guided her around the corner into the Lincoln Financial parking deck.
“Are you serious? This place is mega expensive.”
“I figured the city center would be a bonus, and you asked for discretion.”
“And this qualifies how exactly? A concierge works the front desk, the doors are locked every evening, and there’s only one entrance from the street. Sounds like more security than my parents’ home when I was a teenager. Do they make you sign in too?”
“Ever the cop. Be patient. Not your strong suit, I know.” They took an elevator up one floor to a covered walkway between the parking deck and the condo building. “You can park your car in the garage here, in the underground facility, or behind the museum.” She pointed toward the high-rise. “Here’s the second entrance. You have an entry fob, and once you’re inside, there’s a private elevator to your penthouse suite.”
Loane stopped at the door and turned to Eve. “Penthouse? How did you pull this off in three days?”
“It was the only way I could ensure your privacy. It’s rented under one of my company names, Winterland, LLC.”
As they rode the elevator to the sixteenth floor, Loane’s chest swelled with gratitude. Eve had stepped up when others let her down, even though she didn’t agree with Loane’s methods. She had gone above and beyond anything Loane expected. It had been months since she’d felt this supported by anyone.
“I don’t know how to—”
Eve patted her on the back. “You can thank me by reconsidering this madness.”
“To move on, I have to find some answers.” More than that, she had to know if Abby was alive or dead. Her thoughts bounced like a Ping-Pong ball, back and forth with no evidence to support either theory. Without that knowledge, the aching void in her body that neither food nor drink nor activity could fill would remain.
“I knew you’d say that. So, let’s look at your place.”
When the elevator opened, Loane stepped into surroundings she could’ve only imagined. Rooftops three or four stories high had been her greatest vantage point until now. The eastern landscape flickered with thousands of tiny campfires of light. Stars dotted the night sky like pinpoints poked in black paper. The view extended as far as she could see—an unobstructed vista of earth and sky. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the length of the east and west sides of the unit, and Loane felt like she was floating. “Oh, Eve. This is…”
“Beautiful isn’t adequate, is it? I hoped you’d like it.”
“Like it? I love it, but it’s too much.” How would she ever repay Eve and Thom for their kindness? They’d provided years of support when Loane was coming out, encouragement and backup as she cared for her ailing mother, a sanctuary after the accident, and now this.
“Let me know how you like living here. Thom and I are considering it when we’re older. There’s been a big hoopla about music from the clubs. Personally, I could give a fat rat’s ass. You expect a little noise when you live in the city center.” She waved her hand in an encompassing gesture. “How do you like the décor? I hadn’t seen this myself.”
Loane took in the dark, rich cherry flooring and cabinets, slid her hand across the cool, black granite countertop, and marveled at the straight lines of the contemporary furnishings and accents. “Thom nailed my taste.”
“She had a great time setting it up.”
“Please thank her for me. It’s perfect.”
“You can stay as long as you like, but I hope it’s a short visit. I want you back in the real world, living your life, not fighting battles on your own.”
Loane heard the hint of disapproval in Eve’s tone and was grateful she didn’t say more. “I appreciate this. I hope I can wrap it up soon.”
“Well, I’ll let you settle in.” She handed Loane the key fob and walked toward the elevator. “You have a phone number for me?”
“It’s the same, but remember—”
“I know. Nobody gets this number.” She gave Loane a quick hug and stepped onto the elevator. “Thom stocked the refrigerator for a few days. Enjoy.”
When Eve left, Loane looked around the unit and couldn’t believe how spacious it was. Three sizeable bedrooms, one outfitted as an office, with expansive windows and ten-foot ceilings that made them seem even larger. The living space was divided into two separate seating areas, both with wall-mounted flat-screen televisions. A dining area o
ff the kitchen could easily accommodate a dozen people. She would’ve been happy with a small one-bedroom unit, but Eve believed in value for money, and this one had it all.
Loane slid open the door to the balcony, stepped outside, and looked down Elm Street toward the Sky Bar, a direct view to the front door. Eve had no idea how perfect her selection was. Loane could use her binoculars to watch the activity without ever leaving home.
She was anxious to start but needed to set up her base of operations. A trip to the storage facility she’d rented and she’d be set. She grabbed one of Thom’s signature Irish meat pies and a bottle of Guinness, and headed for the elevator. As she took a long pull of the rich stout, she remembered the last time she’d drunk one.
Five months ago she and Tyler had finished an exhausting round of martial-arts training and stopped by M’Coul’s at Hamburger Square. Since their father died, they’d met at least once a month to practice and remember him. He’d introduced them to his own modified version of hand-to-hand and close-quarters combat techniques when they were teenagers. They practiced unarmed fighting, edged weapons, and weapons of opportunity. As they became more proficient through the years, almost every encounter ended in a draw, and they always celebrated with a beer on the way home.
After the explosion, she’d lost not only the ability to participate in sparring but also the interest in doing so. As she downed the last sip of Guinness, she realized how much she’d missed those sessions, physically and emotionally. Granted, Tyler wasn’t an affectionate guy, but he was her brother and all she had left of a family. And it wasn’t his fault ATF had shut everyone out of the information loop on Abby’s case.
