Framed For Love

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “That’s okay, Darla. We need him.”

  “Good.” Darla’s pretty features relaxed, and her gazed shifted to at Justin. “I’ve finished all the calling you wanted me to do. I’ve still found no owner of that house. Would you like me to do anything more?”

  “No, you’ve worked enough overtime.”

  “Well, I’ve needed the hours,” she said. “I just hope we find them soon.”

  “We will.”

  This last comment came from Carl, and Darla’s eyes flicked over him with a rather embarrassed expression. “Well, if that’s all, I’ll be going home now. It’s been a long day.”

  “Thanks, Darla.” Fred felt an odd rush of emotion when she left. Interesting. He had never thought of Darla as anything other than a secretary. Maybe he’d been working too hard.

  “So what did you need from me?” Robert Mason asked.

  Fred quickly outlined the situation and added, “Basically we need Zack Field’s phone number in France.”

  Robert’s thick eyebrows contracted. “I’ll call my neighbor for it. In fact, come to think of it, she might still have the copy I wrote down for her give to her brother. But I think it’s odd that Cassi didn’t get a license plate number of that delivery truck. Since she was a child, I taught her to check the license plates. You know, one of the cops-and-robbers games we played.”

  Carl’s jaw dropped slightly. “Why, yes, she did! I forgot. She didn’t have a pen, so she asked me to write it down.” He fumbled for the inner pocket in his coat and pulled out a thin book. “Let’s see. Yes, here it is.”

  Fred took it and looked toward Justin, who was already reaching for the phone. They worked so well together . . . too well? Had Justin become jealous of his position?

  Fred dismissed the thought. “Well, well, well. It looks as though for once we just might have a jump on our opponents. If this license plate is valid, perhaps it’ll lead us to Laranda Garrettson.”

  “I don’t know,” Robert said uneasily. “There’s more to this than Jared’s former boss. There’s been too much cover-up and deception for someone to set up from a prison hospital. Laranda was never that big to begin with.”

  “Organized crime?” Justin asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Fred nodded, once again impressed with Robert Mason. “That would explain a lot.”

  “But didn’t we decide Big Tommy was the one who had her murdered in prison?” Justin said, still holding the phone to his ear.

  “Yes, except that she wasn’t really murdered, was she?” Fred gestured to the file on his desk containing the detailed autopsy of the burden intern from the prison hospital. “And the question is, did he even try? Killing her would follow his pattern of revenge, and I suppose Laranda could have fooled him by using that intern, but it seems unlikely with her condition. Yet to prevent Big Tommy from taking revenge, and maybe even get him to help her, she would have had to offer him something big.”

  “You’re suggesting she joined him?” Carl asked.

  Fred shrugged and lifted his empty hands, palms upward. “It’s anybody’s guess. It could be that she merged with Big Tommy’s competition. That sounds more likely. We have no way of telling, but she had help getting out.”

  “Let’s check into Big Tommy, just to be sure,” Justin said. “There might be some connection.” His attention shifted as someone returned to the other end of the line after searching the French database for the license plate information Carl had given them. “Yes!” Justin told them with a grin. “They have a lead.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  AFTER THE INITIAL CONFRONTATIONS, NO one seemed to pay Cassi any attention. That first night, the cook kept her busy cleaning in the kitchen all evening, and Cassi had prayed constantly that the woman wouldn’t notice how inept she was at the tasks. At least she wasn’t asked to cook. Cassi had joked with Jared that in heaven she had been given the cookie-eating genes instead of the cooking genes. He didn’t seem to mind, but this intense cook might.

  Strangely, she saw no other employees except a gardener, whom she saw briefly before dark through the window. She decided that the rest of the help must be off duty, because it was much too large a house for a single maid. Perhaps Laranda and her entourage hadn’t been expected.

  When she was finally released from her duties, Cassi wandered through the house until she found a tiny room on the second floor with a narrow cot and an even narrower armoire. The thin film of dust told her no one was using this room, and the lock on the door made it perfect for her.

  She went downstairs and retrieved her tapestry case and a new change of sheets for the bed. They were flannel and unfitted like the ones she’d used in Grant’s house in England. She swept up the dust in the room before going to the tiny adjoining cubicle that served as a bathroom. To her surprise, there was a bottle of hand lotion and a few other used cosmetics that were set out as though waiting for their owner.

  Investigating further, Cassi found several stacks of neatly folded clothes in the dresser, mostly work dresses. Cassi’s curiosity grew. Who had lived here? And why had she left? She kept searching, but found nothing of further interest.

  Her leg had begun to ache dully, and she changed the bandage with the gauze and tape Jarelyn had packed in the tapestry case. The wound appeared to be healing well. She turned off the light and went to bed.

  It seemed like only minutes before she was jerked awake by a thumping on her door. Thin rays of light streaming through the window barely illuminated the room, and her head pounded as though she had slept only a few hours. Crawling from the bed, she made her way cautiously to the door.

  Her hand was on the knob before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be able to hear knocking. Taking her hand from the door, she went into the bathroom instead and splashed her face with cold water.

  The knocking stopped. Cassi climbed over the toilet into the shower, which was nothing more than a raised square on the floor with a snake-like tube sporting a sprayer on the end. Short plastic curtains prevented any water from escaping onto the ceramic tile.

  She didn’t dare wash her hair for fear of losing too much of the red color, but it seemed to stay cleaner now that it was short. After bathing quickly, she dressed in some of the clothes she’d found in the dresser. They were short through the waist, but at least she looked like a proper maid.

  Looking for a place to hide the manila envelope, Cassi decided on the armoire. She removed the paper lining in the bottom drawer, slipped the envelope in, and replaced the paper. Lastly, she stacked some of the folded clothes on top. It wouldn’t hold up to a thorough search, but it was enough to get her by any cursory inspection. With her foot, she shoved the tapestry case, still filled with Jarelyn’s borrowed clothing, under the bed.

  In the hallway she met a short, red-faced woman coming up with the cook, who held a ring of keys. I guess I’m not safe even with the lock, she thought. The cook smiled, but the other woman frowned and said something in rapid French. Cassi ignored her but followed the pair to the kitchen.

  This time there were three other girls working, all younger than Cassi. They greeted her with a nod and returned to chattering with each other as they cleaned and polished great mounds of silverware. The red-faced lady gathered up an armful of dirty aprons and apparently left to do laundry.

  The cook had several trays, and Cassi hoped she would be allowed to take Jared and Trent’s, but the cook gave her a tray with a single serving and pointed her down the hall to the back part of the house. Cassi knew from her investigation the day before that there were several large bedrooms there.

  The first one was empty, but Laranda waited inside the second. She sat in a bed with velvety sheets, a sheer robe draped carelessly over a lacy red nightgown similar to what Cassi had picked out for her own wedding night. Laranda looked beautiful and seductive.

  A man stood by the bed, and to Cassi’s relief it wasn’t Jared, though his hair was a similar color. He wasn’t one of the guards who had been stationed
outside Jared’s door earlier, nor was he one of the delivery guards or the man who’d first found her yesterday. He wore a white T-shirt, casual black pants, and a gray blazer. His eyes kept drifting from the sheaf of papers in his hands to Laranda’s alluring attire.

  Cassi approached the bed and offered the tray to Laranda. “I need the bed tray first, you idiot,” Laranda said. “Oh, I forgot this moron doesn’t hear.” She pointed to a bed tray on her nightstand, and Cassi carefully placed the food on top of that before setting it over Laranda’s legs. Laranda didn’t say thank you. Without being directed, Cassi began to pour the coffee. No sugar.

  “So they have the license plate number,” Laranda said to the man, her voice sharp. “That means we’ll have to delay delivery today and clear out of here within the hour. It’ll take them at least twice that long to work through the bureaucracy and find this place.” She looked up at the man, who made his face instantly expressionless. “Will everything be ready?”

  “Yes. It will.”

  “Good.” Her voice indicated that she’d expected nothing less.

  During the conversation Cassi had lingered, wanting to hear everything. She began picking up several items of Laranda’s discarded clothing from the hardwood floor.

  “We can deliver the rest of the paintings from Big Tommy’s other safe house once the commotion dies down,” Laranda went on. “Meanwhile, I’ll go to my own little haven in Portugal.”

  “More paintings for your little genius?” the man asked.

  Laranda laughed with genuine mirth. “Ah, yes. That and more. Stay with me, Peter, and I’ll make you rich and happy. Don’t forget whose side you are on, should Big Tommy ask about me. I have a way of rising from the dead.”

  Peter cleared his throat. “Should we be talking about this in front of her?”

  Cassi’s heart pounded at the sudden silence. It was all she could do not to run from the room. She picked up a few papers from the floor.

  “She’s deaf, I tell you,” Laranda said. “The perfect servant. And not too ugly to look at, either. I may just make her my personal maid.”

  “What if she’s a plant?”

  Cassi’s tension increased. I’m caught now, she thought.

  “Big Tommy?” Laranda’s voice sent fear coursing through Cassi’s veins.

  Just keep picking things up, Cassi told herself. Could use some dusting over there. Don’t I have a cloth? Oh, where is it? There, in my pocket. Don’t look at them for anything. And don’t hear anything! Cassi hummed a nameless tune in her mind as she wiped the dust from the top of a wide master dresser. She tried to squeeze her ears shut inside and was rewarded by a low static that actually seemed to block out the sounds in the room. Concentrate on that.

  Behind her there was a sudden loud noise, as though a tray full of coffee and breakable dishes had fallen to the hard floor. Cassi went blithely on, straightening the room, though her heart nearly jumped from her chest.

  “There, I told you,” Laranda said. “We’ve nothing to worry about. As long as I get to Portugal and my little genius.”

  “What about me?”

  “You’ll come with me, of course. But first check on our plans for Big Tommy. When he goes down, he needs to really go down, while leaving all those luscious dollars to me. I want nothing to go wrong.”

  “He’s in love with you, I think,” Peter said. Cassi noticed the resentful tone of his voice. Big Tommy wasn’t the only one enamoured of Laranda.

  “I won’t be second to anyone,” Laranda said, her voice quite serious. “As long as you remember that, you have everything over little bitty Tommy.” Cassi heard a long kiss and then watched Peter leave from the corner of her eye.

  Cassi chose that moment to turn and spy the mess on the floor. She gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. Laranda ignored Cassi and stretched against the mound of fluffy pillows at her back. “Oh, it’s almost here. I can feel it!”

  Cassi hid a grimace and began picking up the pieces. She was nearly finished when Laranda bent toward her, one elbow on the bed, the other hand made into a fist that she held out under Cassi’s nose. Cassi froze, feeling the woman’s eyes delving into her. Then Laranda opened the fist to reveal Cassi’s watch.

  How did she get that? It must have just fallen off. Sure enough, the clasp was bent. Cassi took the watch, straightened the clasp, and strapped it back on her arm. Under Laranda’s amused gaze, Cassi finished picking up the broken dishes and crept from the room.

  She didn’t return to the kitchen, but set the tray in an empty room and ran up the stairs, barely remembering to grab some cleaning supplies from the closet in the laundry room. At Jared’s door, she paused and looked expectantly at the single guard. To her relief, the man opened the door. Cassi walked inside, shutting it behind her, wondering where the other guard had gone.

  Jared jumped up from one of the chairs. Open boxes spread on the floor, new clothes strewn over them. They hadn’t been there the night before, but there was no time to ask where they had come from.

  “Laranda’s going to Portugal right now!” she said. “It looks like Carl has stirred things up, but Laranda has an informant or something and she found out that the authorities are closing in. We’ve got to get out of here! There’s only one guard. Maybe we could jump him.”

  “Does he have a gun?” Jared asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I want you to get out of here. Go hide, and when the police arrive you can tell them everything. Besides, the other guard’s probably just gone to the bathroom or something.”

  Tears filled Cassi’s eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I might never see you again. It could take them months to find you.”

  “It’s the only way.” Jared held out his arms to her, but she heard something at the door and bounded into the bathroom. Quickly, she sprinkled cleaner all over the sink and began to scrub, fighting her tears.

  “Get ready!” came a man’s familiar voice. “Put your stuff in this. Hey, who’s in the bathroom?”

  Cassi met his eyes in the mirror. It was the man from Laranda’s room. Peter. “Oh, there you are,” he said. “You’re coming with us. Now help them pack up, and let’s go. Leave that.”

  When she stared at him blankly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the bathroom, pushing her in the direction of the large suitcase sprawled on the ground. Jared caught her before she fell.

  He faced the man. “That’s no way to treat a woman!”

  Cassi clamped her jaw shut. She couldn’t stop him from defending her without revealing who she was.

  “Shut up,” Peter growled, raising a fist. “You and me are going to have it out soon,” he promised. “I don’t know what she sees in you.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Jared’s voice sounded belligerent.

  “Never mind. Just watch yourself.” Peter stalked to the door and stood with his arms folded, watching them pack clothes into the suitcase. Cassi wondered where the clothes had come from and whether she would be allowed to get her own things.

  She wasn’t. After they finished, Peter made Jared heft the suitcase. “Follow me,” he ordered.

  As they left the room, Cassi noticed that Jared’s other guard had returned from wherever he had been, and the two men followed along attentively. With Peter in the front and two guards in the rear, all armed, there was little chance of escape.

  In the garage, Laranda was in her wheelchair being lifted into a specially equipped van. Peter strode over to the back of the vehicle and supervised luggage placement by dark-haired men Cassi didn’t recognize. In the background, more men Cassi had never seen before used a small forklift to heft the huge crate she’d seen earlier into a large, open-bed truck.

  Jared and Trent were handcuffed, blindfolded, and put into the back seat of a white four-door sedan. One of the guards rode with them. Cassi was forced to sit in the front with the other guard. She knew the act of separating her from the prisoners was supposed to reassure a frightened, deaf maid, but she would ra
ther have been with Jared.

  The drive to the airport was long, but at least Cassi could see where they were going. She was quite certain she could pinpoint the general direction of the house, if she ever had the chance.

  Once at the airport, the guards put them in the private plane. Jared and Trent were handcuffed to the seats and their blindfolds removed. There was a long wait before the plane began to move, but not long enough for Cassi. She kept hoping that Carl and the FBI would charge in and save them. She knew the dream was unrealistic. Carl didn’t know she was in danger—although he would suspect it when she didn’t call—or even if Jared was in France.

  We’ll have to free ourselves. The thought terrified her. To be free they would have to act, and to act might mean death. Cassi swallowed hard, trying to eliminate the dryness in her throat.

  “They must have some agreement with the airport,” Trent said, when the guards were out of earshot. “I can’t believe they can fly out so quickly. An international flight has a lot of rules.”

  Cassi covered her mouth with her hand so the guards wouldn’t see her speaking. “It just takes money. There are no rules for people like Big Tommy and Laranda. They can buy anything with money.”

  “Not everything,” Jared said. “They can’t buy love.”

  The look in his eyes made Cassi want to hold him, but the guards standing by the door to the next cabin watched them with intent stares. She had sat in a chair far enough away from Jared so as not to arouse suspicion, but close enough to hear his voice and see his face. The cut on his cheek was healing, along with the older wounds, but she could see that it would leave a scar. His hair had grown longer than he normally wore it—he had been due for a haircut last week—and he sported a six-day beard. Cassi found the rugged look captivating. She wanted to run her hands through his hair, to rub her cheek against his face. She stopped her thoughts and sighed. If they ever got out of this—no, when they got out of this situation, she was going to marry him and love him forever.