“Kade and I don’t usually work together,” Blane said. Though he had to admit, he’d enjoyed knowing his brother had his back on this one, someone he could trust implicitly.
Kathleen glanced at Kade in disbelief, then back to Blane.
“Kade used to be FBI,” he explained.
“Used to be?”
“They had a lot of rules that got in the way,” Kade said with a careless shrug.
“Those are called laws, Kade,” Blane chastened him.
“Whatever they are, I decided I would enjoy myself more as a . . . freelancer.”
“Vigilante, you mean,” Blane corrected. Kade wasn’t exactly doing his part to inspire trust from Kathleen.
“You say tomato . . .” Kade sighed.
Blane looked back at Kat. “People hire him to find lawbreakers and be judge and jury.”
“And executioner,” Kade interjected, smirking at Kathleen who eyed him with trepidation. “You’d be surprised how good business is.”
“Last year,” Blane said, pulling her attention back to him, “I realized something was amiss with the firm and its relationship with TecSol. I needed someone on the inside with the Santini family, so I asked Kade to move back to town and help me.”
“And I’m not even charging him,” Kade added.
“And why do you need the code?” Kathleen asked.
“Because of this.” Blane walked behind his desk and brought up the election map, adding the new jurisdictions he’d discovered earlier today with a few clicks. Hitting a button, the image was projected onto the wall.
Kathleen got up and walked over to it. Kade rose as well.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s all the elections that will be encrypted using that code in two days.”
She looked stunned. “But . . . that’s not possible,” she stammered. “It’s only supposed to be used in Indy.”
“That’s what you think, princess,” Kade said.
That gave Blane pause. Princess? Where the hell had that come from?
“What you don’t know,” Kade continued, “is that TecSol is just one front company. There are dozens more, all using the same software to encrypt the returns. All going live on Tuesday.”
“The Santini brothers—” she began.
“They’re little fish,” Kade interrupted. “This is much bigger. The problem is we haven’t found the ones who are really behind this yet. The code would help us track this to them.”
“How will that help you?” she asked. “What do you know about computers, codes, and encryption?” Her tone indicated a decided disdain for Kade’s intellectual capabilities. Kade just smiled.
Blane sighed. “Quite a bit, actually,” he said. “Kade’s job in the FBI was in the cyber crime division.” He left out the part where Kade had been hacking and writing code since before puberty.
Kathleen said nothing to that, still staring at Kade who merely cocked an insolent eyebrow at her. Turning on her heel, she approached Blane.
“Will you give me the code?” Unlike Kade, he believed that sometimes you really could get what you wanted if you just asked nicely.
“Do I have a choice?” she asked.
Inwardly, Blane flinched. Whether she thought he would hurt her or that Kade would, she believed she wouldn’t be allowed to leave this room unless she gave them what they wanted. And quite honestly, he didn’t have a clue what he’d do if she didn’t. Hurting her was out of the question.
“You always have a choice,” he replied.
“Though you may not like the consequences,” Kade added, making Kathleen spin around.
“Is that a threat?” she hissed at him.
Blane rubbed his forehead tiredly. He wouldn’t let Kade hurt her, but maybe she didn’t know that.
“It’s a fact,” Kade said, his voice like ice.
Blane stayed quiet, letting Kathleen assume what she would. A moment passed, then to Blane’s relief, she capitulated.
“Fine,” she spat. Turning to a chair, she set her heel-clad foot on it and began raising her skirt.
Blane’s brows climbed with her hemline. He couldn’t look away as the fabric rose to reveal her smooth leg, then higher to her thigh, and even higher, until he would have begged for just an inch more.
Kathleen pulled a thumb drive from her stocking, holding it up for him to see. “A precaution,” she said. “Sorry your hands were too busy elsewhere to search me properly, Blane?”
Blane’s gaze met hers. At the moment, she knew exactly what she was doing, knew she was affecting him. Another show like that and he’d haul her mouth-watering ass upstairs to his bed and show her just how thorough he could be.
As if reading his thoughts, she dropped her skirt and tossed the thumb drive onto his desk. “How are you doing to trace it?” she asked.
“We need to get into their infrastructure, but I’m working on that,” Kade said.
Kathleen didn’t even look Kade’s direction, just raised an eyebrow at Blane.
“He hasn’t been able to hack into their network yet,” he clarified.
“Yet being the key word,” Kade said.
“Your time is running out,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be better if you had someone on the inside?”
“That would make things a lot easier, yes,” Blane answered. “But our last lead died with your friend Mark.”
“Maybe I could help out,” she offered.
Kade laughed outright, while Blane’s immediate thought was that no way in hell was he letting her within a mile of those people. They’d already tried to kill her once. Who was to say they wouldn’t try again?
“What are you going to do, princess?” Kade asked, stepping into her personal space. “Fuck the information out of Santini?”
Kathleen smacked Kade so hard, it echoed in the room. Kade looked as furious as Blane had ever seen him while Kathleen just stood her ground, staring him down. The hostility between the two of them was oppressive.
So much for his brother and his erstwhile “girlfriend” getting along. It didn’t look like they’d be catching a movie together anytime soon.
“Kade, take a walk,” Blane ordered, before things deteriorated even further.
For a moment, Blane thought he wasn’t going to listen, but Kade finally turned and left the room. Kathleen blew out a breath, her hands clutching the chair next to her for support. Sometimes Blane forgot just how menacing Kade could be when he chose. Normally, he didn’t like seeing his brother that way, but tonight it had worked in Blane’s favor.
Blane moved closer to her. “I apologize for him,” he said. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Is he always such a charmer?” she asked dryly, her eyes avoiding Blane’s.
“He’s just . . . a bit of a cynic.” With good reason, though Kathleen didn’t know that, nor did she need to.
Kathleen was too tempting to resist and Blane had the passing thought that maybe he could convince her to share his bed one last time. A princess, Kade had said? She certainly looked the part tonight and Blane was suddenly, fiercely glad that there was such an antipathy between her and Kade.
He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her toward him. She came willingly, giving Blane hope that perhaps he wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.
“Not that I’m going to complain that you two don’t get along,” he said. She looked up then, her blue eyes questioning. “I don’t like competition.”
Blane kissed her and this time she was ready for him, accustomed to the demands of his lips and tongue. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her body pressed against his. His hands lowered to pull her closer while his mouth skated down the curve of her neck. She tipped her head to the side and gasped at the touch. Blane buried a hand in the soft curls cascading down her back.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. And she was. Not just her looks, but her taste, the scent of her skin, the feel of her in his arms.
She said something, but Blane was too far gon
e to hear it, sucking her earlobe into his mouth. She shivered and Blane wondered if she’d agree to the couch instead. He didn’t know if he could make it all the way to his bed.
“Blane, stop!”
This time, the words penetrated, as did the realization that she was pushing him away. Blane abruptly released her. She stumbled backward, looking dazed.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, hoping whatever it was wouldn’t take too long to fix. Desire was humming in his veins.
“I can’t do this,” she stammered. “I can’t be your . . . flavor of the month.”
“I never said you were,” Blane replied.
“Then what am I?”
That was a good question. No, she wasn’t a transient lay, in and out of his life — no pun intended. Neither was she someone he should seek to make permanent, though he realized that he didn’t immediately shrink from the idea, at least, not with her.
But she was young, had never played this game before, and was a liability he didn’t need. Even now he could see the hope in her eyes. The last thing either of them needed was her forming an attachment to him.
When Blane didn’t answer, the light of hope in her eyes slowly faded.
“Thought so,” she said, grabbing her purse. She turned to go.
“Kathleen, wait,” Blane said, grasping her elbow. He didn’t want her to think it had meant nothing to him and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that, but what good would it do besides make her think there could be more than just casual sex between then? It was best to just let it go. Let her go.
Turning her hand palm up, Blane placed the spare set of keys to Kade’s car in her hand. “To get home,” he said.
She glanced down at the keys and when she said, “Thanks,” it sounded as if she were fighting tears. Guilt hit him hard and Blane didn’t try to stop her again as she walked to the door.
“Wait,” she said, turning around. “Aren’t these the keys to Kade’s car?”
Blane grinned. “Yeah. It’ll really piss him off.” Kade deserved it for treating her like shit.
Kathleen laughed and Blane tried to memorize the sound.
“Blane, why were there tonight?” she asked. “Are you a . . . customer?”
Good God. She was probably wondering if she needed to see a doctor after having sex with him. Worrying about STDs wasn’t really the memory Blane wanted her to associate with their one and only time together.
“I know I haven’t given you much reason to trust me,” he said, “but believe me when I tell you that no, I’m not a customer.”
She let out a small sigh of relief. “They why did Gracie tell me that Enigma was the one Sheila was seeing?”
“She lied,” Blane said. “She probably told you whatever they wanted her to say. I’d assume so you wouldn’t trust me.” Not that he’d needed any help getting her not to trust him. He’d done quite well on that on his own.
“Why were you even there?”
Blane decided she didn’t need more information. She’d already proven to be too tenacious for her own health. “It’s safer for you if you don’t know that,” he answered.
Kathleen looked disappointed, but thankfully didn’t ask any more questions.
“Bye, Blane,” she said.
“Bye, Kat.”
She walked out without a backward glance. Blane felt a stab of regret as he watched her leave. He wouldn’t ever see her again, wouldn’t kiss her or make love to her again.
It was for the best, but he stared at that closed door for a long while.
Kade was pissed about his car, as Blane expected. He groused about having to ask Gerard to take him to pick it up, but Blane wasn’t really listening. Kade said he’d be in touch when he got through TecSol’s network and left, his irritation at Blane obvious.
It was late when Blane dropped onto the couch, staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace. He’d spent the last two hours poring through TecSol’s finance records. He’d finally found the method Gage was using to launder the money through a half dozen shelf companies. Gage was putting the firm at risk, so Blane had no qualms about leaving a voice mail for the current D.A., an old law school buddy he’d kept in touch with over the years, detailing what was going on. It shouldn’t take long for the cops to come knocking on Gage’s door.
However, even with that part taken care of, Blane couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his gut. Had he done the right thing with Kat? Sending her away? Logic told him yes, but that didn’t stop thoughts of her replaying in his mind. What if he’d said something different, told her he wanted to see her again. Would she have stayed? Is that what he wanted? Was it too late?
A slight sound in the hallway made Blane turn, his senses going on high alert. Silently, he got to his feet, moving behind his desk. He picked up the Glock that rested on the surface of the desk and tucked it in the back of his pants. Reaching under his desk, Blane hit the button on a tiny remote he’d glued there.
Frank Santini stepped into the room, followed by two men who looked like they didn’t do much thinking for a living, their brutish faces cold, their eyes empty.
“Frank,” Blane said, keeping it genial. “This is an odd time—and place—to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It looks like you had a nice time at the party tonight,” Frank said, moving forward to stand in front of Blane. He had a yellow manila folder in his hand from which he drew a sheaf of thick papers. One by one, he tossed them onto Blane’s desk.
Images of himself and Kathleen making out on the couch at the party tonight stared up at Blane in stark black and white. Not that Blane was surprised. The only thing unexpected was that it had taken Santini this long to get over here.
“Are these for my collection?” he asked Frank. “Normally, I’m not into that, but with these,” he picked up one in particular that showed everything he’d bared of her during their encounter, “I might be persuaded to change my mind.”
Frank laughed softly. “You’re a man’s man, Kirk,” he said. “Nothing better than a glass of aged scotch and lying between a woman’s spread thighs, am I right?” Frank walked over to the sideboard and helped himself to Blane’s scotch, pouring an inch into a crystal highball glass.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Blane said, his voice turning steely. “Why are you here?”
Frank settled himself on the couch with a sigh, the cushions groaning in protest at his bulk. Blane stuffed the photos of him and Kathleen back into the envelope and tossed it onto his desk.
“I may understand something like those photos,” Frank said, “but I doubt voters would. Everybody knows men pay for sex from women like that, but no one likes to talk about it, much less read about it in the Sunday paper over the breakfast table.”
“I don’t know about that,” Blane scoffed, coming around the desk to face Frank. “I bet I could leak those to the paparazzi and I’d win in a landslide. There’s no such thing as bad press, isn’t that what they say?”
“That’s an awfully big risk to take with your career,” Frank warned.
Blane shrugged. “At the moment, we’re the only ones who’ve seen those photos. So unless you’re threatening me, I don’t see the problem.” He paused. “Are you threatening me, Frank?”
Frank smiled. “I’m your ally, Kirk. I want to see your career soar as much as you do. Those photos are just my insurance against my investment.”
“So you’re blackmailing me,” Blane said. “What exactly do you want from me, Frank, that I’m not already providing?”
“You think I don’t know you’ve been digging into TecSol?” Frank asked. His smile was gone now, anger creasing the worn lines of his face.
“They’re your client,” Blane said. “Your union people service their voting machines. If they’re dirty, it’s my duty as your lawyer to protect you.”
“Bullshit,” Frank spat. “We have a good thing going, Kirk, and I’m not about to let you fuck it up. Do you know how much money the r
ight people will pay to ensure an election? Millions doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Blane asked.
“I can tell you whatever I want,” Frank said with a wave of his hand. “You can’t repeat it. You think I don’t know about attorney client privilege?”
“That privilege doesn’t extend to TecSol,” Blane said. “They’re not my client.”
“Which is why I have the photographs, Kirk,” Frank said. “Now be a good boy and don’t make me use them.” He rose laboriously to his feet, doing up the button on his strained jacket.
Furious, Blane got in Frank’s face. “You think I give a fuck about those photographs?” he snarled. “Don’t think for a moment that you can waltz in here and threaten me. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
Frank remained unmoved. “It’s you who don’t know who you’re dealing with, Kirk,” he said. “Like the girl. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”
Blane stilled, his expression going blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “The girl was just some whore.”
Frank laughed. “Kathleen Turner, isn’t that her name? Poor thing was just too curious for her own good.”
A cold chill went up Blane’s spine. “What do you mean?”
“We have her, of course,” Frank said. “You didn’t think we’d leave it to chance, did you? I’d hoped the photographs could persuade you, but it’s always a good idea to have a contingency plan.”
Fuck. “What do you want?” Blane asked.
“You come with us until after the election, then you’re free to go.”
“And if I don’t?”
“We’ll kill her, of course,” Frank said with a shrug, as though he were mentioning dinner plans for Friday. He smiled. “I believe Jimmy was tasked with that particular chore, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Kirk? You wouldn’t have bothered saving her and blowing your cover in the process if she was ‘just some whore.’”
Blane had his gun in his hand before Frank even turned away. The men at the door pulled their weapons, pointing them at Blane, and nobody moved.
“If you die,” Frank said, “so does the girl. And with two guns pointing at you, we both know you won’t make it if you try to shoot your way out.” He snapped his fingers and the men approached to flank him. “What’ll it be, Kirk?”
Turn On A Dime - Blane's Turn (The Kathleen Turner Series) Page 22
