by Gail, Stacy
“You brought this to her.” The words pushed through the sieve of Jacob’s gritted teeth, and it mirrored the fury Nate directed at himself. “She was done with that life. Done. You should hang your head in shame.”
“I’ll be sure to do that when I have the time.” Little did the other man know he was already there, but pity parties were about as useless as the hole he’d almost put in Jacob’s head. “Will you talk to her?”
“You move...differently.”
Seriously, did this man ever give a straight fucking answer? “That’s probably because I’m different from just about everyone you know. That still doesn’t answer my question.”
“I will speak to her, of course, but this is a superfluous action.” Jacob glanced to where Ella was now helping her client off the elliptical, and to Nate’s amazement the older man’s usually psychotic expression turned downright fatherly. “I may not have taught her all there is to know in spotting an enemy—” he bestowed a poisonous look on Nate, “—but life itself has taught her to live moment to moment with her guard up. She is stronger than you know.”
“Being strong doesn’t mean anything if someone’s decided to target you.”
Jacob harrumphed. Nate had no clue if that meant agreement or if he was about to launch another assault for back-talking. “You know Gabriella Littlefield’s story?”
“I was the one who found her coming out of that godforsaken hellhole.”
He’d thought he couldn’t surprise the likes of Jacob, but the other man’s expression proved him wrong. “Then you know she found the strength to do what others only think they can do—survive at any cost. This is something that doesn’t just go away, boy. Once realized, this ability becomes a part of your soul. Believe me, I know this all too well.”
Nate didn’t doubt it for a second. “So you’ll help me keep an eye on her?”
“Don’t be stupid. I always watch over her.”
“I could be wrong, though my gut tells me I’m not,” Nate felt compelled to add. If anyone would understand his paranoia, the sadist would. “When Briella Fields went under a train last evening, that could have been just an accident, maybe even a suicide. But the other woman I marked, Gabrielle Litte, didn’t show up for work this morning. That’s a big red flag for me.”
“Gabrielle Litte... Did this woman work at the Wrigley Building?”
Nate’s stomach clenched into an acid-filled knot as his attention snapped back to Jacob. “How did you know that?”
“It was on the news. I heard it before I came in here. It caught my attention because the woman’s name was so close to what Ella’s used to—”
“Heard what on the news?”
“This woman, this Gabrielle Litte, was found dead at the bottom of a malfunctioning elevator shaft in the Wrigley Building about an hour ago. They said she worked there, that it was some sort of freak accident—”
“That’s no accident,” Nate growled. Dropping the weight onto its rightful place on a nearby rack, he made a beeline for Ella.
* * *
As she brought her client through the last of his cool-down stretches, Ella watched Jacob and Nate part ways, with Nate heading toward her like a man on a mission. With a quick glance at the wall clock, she handed a towel and water bottle over to her heavily sweating client while trying to warn Nate off with what she hoped was a death-glare.
“You did a great job this time around. Hydrate and stretch for five more minutes, and then you’re done.” With a professional smile, she tilted her head in the direction of a far-off corner. Without missing a step, Nate changed course and headed there, with Ella hot on his heels.
“Look,” she muttered, keeping her voice low the moment they were free of an audience, “I can’t stop you from coming here and staring holes through me while I’m trying to work. I get that you’re worried. I get that you feel you have a job to do and somehow you think I’ve become your responsibility—”
“Gabrielle Litte has been found. She’d dead. On my list of names, you’re the only one left.”
The world seemed to drop out from beneath her feet. She heard a strangled gasp and it took her a second to realize it had come from her. “How? How did she—”
“It doesn’t matter how. Get your stuff and meet me at the front. Jacob and I need to figure out how we’re going to make sure you’re covered until this mess blows over.”
Ella found herself complying without thought, and in less than five minutes she had her warm-up suit on and bug-out duffle bag over her shoulder, and she felt safer with it strapped diagonally over her body. Not that there was any rock-solid proof to Nate’s suspicions. But while one death was an ominous coincidence, two was much more serious. With the Rainier name popping up yet again, she’d be an idiot to simply shrug this off as a mere coincidence.
That thought brought up a question she blurted out the moment she spotted Nate waiting for her in the lobby with Jacob and Phoebe. “Nate, who besides you knew that you’d come up with the names of those two women?”
Nate, who had pulled on dark sweats and had shouldered back into his duster, turned a dangerous scowl her way. “My current employer, Carver Archibald. Before I went to your house this morning I gave his number to the authorities here in Chicago, as well as all the particulars of this case. As far as I know, Archibald was the only person who knew of those three names. They should have remained confidential until I’d had a chance to confirm which one was Gabriella Littlefield. Then Briella Fields winds up under a train.” He glanced at Phoebe. “Ella has the rest of the day off, right?”
Phoebe pursed her lips, the picture of unhappy disapproval. “I don’t think she should leave the gym and wander the streets while this is going on.”
“It’s not like she’s going to be alone. What she shouldn’t do is stick to her normal haunts and a regular routine.”
“I will look after her.” Jacob announced it as if it were settled and done. “No one else can do a better job of it than me.”
“Except me.” Fed up with the rest of them talking about her as if she wasn’t even there, Ella raised her voice until they all looked at her. “Look at all of you. I can’t believe I’m the calm one here.”
Nate cursed. “Look, this is my fault—”
“It is his fault,” Jacob agreed.
“And that’s just about enough of that.” A Southern lilt crept into her tone, but since that cat was well and truly out of the bag she figured she could get away with it. “If someone is going around killing innocent people, taking the blame for it only takes the burden of responsibility off of their shoulders and weighs you down. Does a killer deserve that kind of break?”
Nate frowned as if this was a new concept. “Well, no.”
“I learned the hard way to not take the blame when someone decides to do the unspeakable. You want to make yourself feel victimized, go right ahead,” she invited to Nate, who looked like he wanted to swear at her, before she shot Jacob a furious glance. “And if you want to beat up on the one man who’s on top of things and trying to get answers, be my guest. But neither of those dimwitted actions is going to help.”
“Agreed, and we all need to realize we’re working together on this.” As solid as the Rock of Gibraltar, Phoebe held up a hand. “Now that we have a head’s up, we can plan ahead. Ella, you can have some time off if you want it, or change up your schedule however you want.”
“I’m not sure what I want to do at this point, except get home and try and figure out a plan of action.”
The only problem was that she had no clue know where to start.
Chapter Nine
“You didn’t have to drive me home,” Ella said as Nate concentrated on guiding his rental car along the slushy streets of her neighborhood. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“You usu
ally take the Metra home, then walk the two blocks from the station to your house. There’s no way in hell you’re getting anywhere near a train track or walking along a wet street where someone could accidentally slip on black ice and leave you as just another hit-and-run statistic.”
“You’re very efficient at your job, aren’t you? Got my habits down and everything.”
If she wanted an apology she was doomed to disappointment. “My only concern right now is that someone else will have your habits down and use them against you.”
Her sigh was quiet, weighed down with the tension he could see in her face. “Why is this happening?”
“It’s got to be the money. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The Rainiers would take a massive financial hit if Claudine Pierpont-Rainier’s inheritance goes over to you. If you’re dead, or you’re not located within a year, the money goes to the family.”
“I don’t even want it. Doesn’t that make a difference?”
“I’m guessing someone’s not willing to take that chance.” With a sigh of relief he pulled up to the curb in front of her little purple cottage, the winter-deadened lawn polka-dotted with patches of unmelted snow. “Okay. Now that we’re here, we need...” Without warning the hair on the back of his neck prickled and a ferocious tug, far stronger than anything he’d ever experienced in the past, slammed into his brain, so hard it jabbed an invisible ice pick into his eyes. Half-blind, his heart pummeling a hole through his rib cage, Nate looked through the windshield to a late-model Caddy parked further down on the other side of the street. And all the while something instinctive deep inside of him sang a one-note song of urgency: I know what this is now. I know what this is...
Ella frowned when he stopped. “What is it?”
“I feel...something.” God, yes. He felt something. But this sensation wasn’t like what he’d experienced in the past when his meager power had whispered to him. That had been easy. Simple. Fucking painless. But this...this was something new. Like it had been in the gym, this was something he could easily believe was life-threatening if he couldn’t find a way to face it head-on.
So that’s exactly what he’d do.
“Ella.” Heat poured into his muscles, that edgy, nuclear-hot energy begging to be released, and it pulsed in time with the pain behind his eyes as he opened the car door. “Do me a favor. Stay here.”
“Wait—”
A breeze warmed by the weak midday sun ruffled his hair as he focused on the Caddy. Whatever it was that was pulling at his attention was both inexorable and agonizing; it couldn’t have hurt worse if a grappling hook had been lodged in his eye sockets to reel him in. But there was something even more than that, something that made his skin both crawl and ice over, and it pushed him so on edge he’d do almost anything to get off of it.
If this was a reawakening of his ability, it didn’t make any sense for it to be going off now. He’d found what he was looking for. Ella was sitting in the car behind him. There was nothing else that was hidden that he wanted to see.
It had to be malfunctioning. He had to be malfunctioning.
But he had to know for sure.
He half expected the car to peel out as soon as he looked at it, but the engine remained silent. From where he stood, he could make out two silhouettes through the smoke-tinted windows, the one behind the wheel vaguely familiar. That familiarity crystallized into stunned recognition when the driver’s door opened.
What the hell...
He’d seen that face before. Not in person, and certainly not anywhere near Chicago. This was a face straight from the television news clips of two years ago, a face he’d unintentionally memorized as he searched for information on the woman he’d found stumbling out of the woods.
No way in hell was this a coincidence.
Before he was conscious of moving, Nate was heading across the street with such ominous intent the other man should have hopped right back in his car and left skid marks. But no. Charles Rainier’s older brother Richard stood there with an effete smile on his pasty face. Clearly, the fool had no survival instincts. If he did, the last thing he’d do was smile before being pulverized for daring to show his loathsome Rainier hide anywhere near Ella.
“You shouldn’t be here.” With that lush, familiar heat ballooning inside him and begging to be vented, Nate balled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t take a swipe at the other man right off the bat. “Better cough up an outstanding reason for being here before I decide this is too much of a coincidence, and polish this street with your ass.”
“Mr. da Luca, I presume.” Richard Rainier looked like money, from his gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses carrying an exclusive French name, to his crème-colored cashmere lab-length coat and plaid scarf, down to the mirror-polished Italian leather shoes. His face was smooth and perfectly shaven, a direct contrast to Nate’s, who knew without looking his sleepless night and early morning travels had given him a scruffy-hobo look. Richard’s walnut-brown hair was combed smoothly in place, receding in a dramatic fashion from a sharp widow’s peak to show a forehead free of worry lines. “That’s quite an aggressive manner you have, did you know that? I’m Richard Rainier, by the way. Nice to meet you.” His smile stretched. “And in case you didn’t know, that’s what one should say when meeting someone for the first time.”
Nate nearly hauled off. The one thing he didn’t need was etiquette lessons from a prissy little shit. “I know who you are, and spare me the phony niceties. What the hell are you doing here?”
Thin sandy brows arched over the aviator gold frames. “Is that any way to speak to your employer?”
“You’re not my employer. Archibald is. You. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.”
“It’s a free country, and I do believe it’s my right to go wherever I wish. I also believe your services are no longer required, as you’ve already ascertained Gabriella Littlefield’s whereabouts.”
“That’s news to me. Where’d you get that jacked-up information?”
This time Richard Rainier’s surprise seemed genuine. “I was told you’d found her.”
Nate could only hope the authorities in North Carolina were busy boiling Archibald in the hottest water they could find. “Nope.”
“Isn’t that Gabriella Littlefield who arrived with you? Isn’t this her house?”
“Again, no. What I want to know is how you got your hands on this address in the first place. I didn’t give it to Archibald.”
“You’re not the only one capable of doing detective work, Mr. da Luca.”
“Yeah well, you can detect your way back to North Carolina, because there’s absolutely nothing for you—”
“Well, well. What do we have here—guests?” With her voice a convincing flat monotone that any native of Illinois would have been proud of, Ella appeared at his side, causing a curse to spring up and die a silent death on his lips. Maybe he’d stuttered when he’d told her to stay in the car. “I didn’t know you had any friends in Chicago, Nate.”
“I don’t.”
Richard took a step forward, like a magnet drawn to steel. “Gabriella Littlefield? Is that you?”
“You’re either deaf or learning impaired.” Nate was reduced to growling. He was so uncomfortable with having a Rainier that close to Ella he couldn’t seem to get his jaw unclenched. “I’ve already told you I haven’t yet found Gabriella Littlefield. Now get your pampered little ass back in your car and get out of here before I decide you’re a threat to my continuing investigation.”
“No need to be so rude, Nate.” Ella’s smile made a razor seem dull by comparison. Just when he was on the verge of throttling her for stumbling out into the open where anything could happen, he saw in the heart of her smile she thought she knew what she was doing. “This man seems to be confusing me with someone else. Why don’t we invite him and his companion inside for coffee? I’
m sure we can clear this up.”
Coffee? Dear God, was she frigging crazy? “I don’t know if you want to let this guy get too close. For some reason people have a tendency to drop dead around the Rainier family.”
He was almost positive Richard shot him a scathing glance behind his sunglasses before he peeled them off to look closely at Ella. “Are you wearing contacts? Colored contacts?”
Ella blinked her baby browns. “Are you usually this forward with complete strangers?”
“The thing is, my dear,” Richard said with the élan of countless generations of moneyed Rainiers behind him, “I don’t believe you and I are what you’d call complete strangers.”
“Like I said, I think you’re confused. I’ve never seen you before in my life, pal.”
“Yet you don’t seem to be too curious as to whom I might be, or why I’m here.”
Ella’s hesitation lasted less than a heartbeat, but Nate wanted to wince at the painfully obvious misstep. “Nate seems to know you, so that’s good enough for me. Why don’t you bring your friend out and we can all go inside and talk, instead of having my neighbors hear every single word we say?”
“There really isn’t much more to say.” Richard reared back as if the mere thought of entering a lavender house was simply beyond him. “I was so hoping I could steal an opportunity to extend my deepest regrets to Ms. Littlefield in person, but apparently you’re not her. And that being the case, I suppose it’s time for me to get out of your way.” Smooth as ever, he offered his hand to Nate. “Hope I didn’t intrude precipitously on your investigation, Mr. da Luca. It really was quite an education meeting you.”
“Yeah, I’m—” Whatever Nate had been about to say dissolved the moment he made straight-on eye contact with Richard.
