by Lexi Blake
Maybe they could talk about it over a nice dinner. She was going to enjoy playing matchmaker.
“Carly, I need you to walk toward the fireplace.”
She rolled her eyes despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. She pivoted and started for the door. “Drew, I don’t have time for any more playing around.”
“Stop and turn back toward the damn fireplace.”
He was the most frustrating man. Now he was interested in art? She obediently turned and faced the wall. It was a beautifully done mantel reflecting the warm tone of the room. On either side of the fireplace was Patricia’s collection of books. In this room she believed it was fiction. There was a whole other library dedicated to cookbooks and tomes on home décor and architecture.
“I need you to get close to that vase.”
In the center of the mantel was a vase. It was pretty but oddly out of place since most of the pieces in the room would be considered true works of art. This, while done well, was obviously the work of an amateur. There were slight discolorations in the glaze. The ombré coloring went from light to pitch black on the bottom. It was large enough to hold a dozen flowers, but Carly couldn’t remember ever seeing Patricia use it for flowers. It had always sat in the middle of the mantel. “It’s been here since I’ve worked for Patricia. Are you a lover of pottery?”
“My mother made that.”
Carly stopped. “Are you sure?”
“It sat above our fireplace until the day she died. I thought it had gotten destroyed in the fire. What’s it doing here? She loved that piece. It was the first time she’d made one work. She told me all the others had folded inward, but this was the first time she’d gotten one to look like it was supposed to. She made cupcakes that day to celebrate and talked about becoming an artist.”
She could hear the emotion in Drew’s voice. “Do you want me to steal it?”
A knock on the door stopped that line of thought. Carly’s heart jumped and she forced herself not to panic. As the door came open, she started talking.
“No, I don’t want the sauce served on the chicken. It needs to be on the side, and I swear I will have someone’s head if it isn’t.” She turned and saw the serving manager had found her.
Good. It looked like she’d stepped away to have words with the kitchen. Carly arched a brow. “How can I help you?”
Mr. Turner frowned apologetically. “I’m so sorry to disturb you but I need to go over how we’re switching from cocktail to dinner service.”
“Just go, Carly,” Drew said, his voice hollow. “It doesn’t matter. Getting into her office is the only thing we should worry about.”
She felt her heart sink but knew he was right. “Let’s take a look at it. I want to make the transition as smooth as possible.”
She prayed she could make the mission go the same way.
—
Bran stepped forward, touching his earpiece. It was go time. Everything they’d prepped for, all the years of sacrifice, and it all came down to this. Patricia was the last person alive who could have the evidence they needed.
Patricia was laughing as some senator finished a joke. She was perfectly icy and cold and held such fascination for the people around her. He didn’t get it at all. All he could think about was one woman wearing a black cocktail dress that hid her curves far too much for his liking.
He’d wanted to buy her a new dress, offered to take her to Rodeo Drive and find something properly bright and shiny. Carly had laughed it off. Apparently she attempted to blend into the background at events like this.
One day she would be the center of the parties she threw. She would be the center of his whole world.
She eagerly turned to him when he reached for her, so why did he feel like he was losing her?
He had to stop thinking about it. It made him edgy. She was coming with them to Austin in the morning. That had to be enough for now. He would ensure she was set up in a new place and he would slowly move his way completely into her life. She would be tied to him and he would do everything he could to make her happy.
He would forget about the past and concentrate on the future. That was all he had to do.
He glanced out and his replacement was on the way. Case strode through the crowd. Like the rest of the security team, Case was dressed in a tux that concealed the fact that he was carrying more than one weapon on his body.
“Ms. Cain, I’m afraid we have an issue I need to handle. Case is going to stay with you while I’m gone.”
She frowned. “Well, fine. I suppose I can handle Mr. Taggart for a time, but hurry back.” She straightened the lapels on his tux. “I’ve got you sitting next to me at dinner.”
That was news to him. “I can protect you better from a distance.”
“What fun would that be? Run along.” She gave Case an icy smile. “Hello, Mr. Taggart.”
The senator raised an eyebrow. “As in McKay-Taggart? My dear, you’ve moved up in the world if you’re using them for your personal security.”
Case gave Bran a nod as he walked by. In the background Bran could hear Case beginning to talk about how proud he was to work for a woman like Patricia Cain.
Yeah, he should have been an actor. His brother-in-law was far better at putting on a happy face than he was.
All he wanted to do was get the information and get the fuck out. He would finish the party and then tender his resignation in the morning. Patricia would still have McKay-Taggart security around her and they would have time to sort through the data and find what they needed.
And he and Carly would settle in. She would take the job at 4L and they would find their way. Oh, she hadn’t agreed to take the job yet, hadn’t even said she would actually move, but she was spending the next week in Austin with him and he would make her never want to leave.
What hope did they have if she refused to talk about the future and he wouldn’t acknowledge the past?
He brushed the thought aside as he took the stairs two at a time. Carly was waiting for him up there and he intended to do his job and get them both out of danger as soon as possible.
She paced in front of the office. The mansion was quiet back here, having moved past the security guards and into what they all called the forbidden zone.
He took a deep breath and strode toward her. One more job and they would be free and clear. That was all it would take. This and they were done. He could hand over everything to Drew and get the fuck out.
If she wouldn’t move to Austin with him, he would move to be with her. He wasn’t ever going to leave her again.
Carly’s eyes widened as he walked up. “Are you good to go? You can’t be in there too long.”
He walked right up to her and did what he’d needed to do all day long. He got his hands on her, covered her mouth with his. And the dark voices that seemed to whisper to him all his days quieted.
She was his peace.
He kissed her for a moment, needing the connection. When he pulled back, he was ready to go. “I’ll be out in a minute. I love you, Carly.”
He kind of liked the fact that her jaw dropped and he was in the office before she could say another word.
Let her think about that for a while.
He fumbled for a moment, his hand moving to his left to find the light switch.
“Did you actually just do that?”
Fuck. He’d forgotten for one glorious moment that his brother was in his ear and could hear and see pretty much everything. Drew was about a mile away, sitting in a rented apartment, probably looking like the world’s biggest pervert because he was surrounded by monitors. He had cameras on the whole team.
“Could you wait until I find the light switch to bitch at me?”
“Once you find the switch and turn it on, you’ll have a job to do, so right now is a great time to bitch at you. And I wasn’t
bitching. I was surprised that you would tell her something like that in the middle of a serious job. Move your hand up.”
What did his brother think he was doing? “I’m looking. You know this would be way easier if you would shut up. And I told her because she should know.”
“Are you sure you didn’t tell her so she doesn’t leave you at the end of this thing? I think she’s going to require more than a declaration of love, Bran. I think you should maybe see someone when we get back to Austin.”
Where the fuck was that light? He pulled out his phone and looked for the flashlight function. “I will be seeing someone. I’ll be seeing Carly.”
He managed to get the light on his phone to shine.
“I meant someone else,” Drew said over the line. “Someone who can help you with your issues. Turn back to the wall, it has to be there.”
His major issues right now had to do with his brother’s deep and never-ending control freakiness. And he didn’t want to think about that right now. “You’re right. I need to concentrate on the job.”
He turned the phone around and located a floor lamp. Thank God. He pulled on the cord and the room lit with soft waves of green and blue and yellow. It was one of those stained-glass lamps that looked like it was from another century. He was sure Carly would have a name for it but it did fuck all to light up the place.
“Case knows a guy in Dallas who deals with PTSD issues,” Drew continued. “Hey, there’s the desk.”
“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll throw away this earpiece. Do you understand?”
A long sigh came over the line. “Set the drive I gave you to download and then get to work on the safe.”
He could hear the disappointment in his brother’s words.
He moved to the desk and located the PC, slipping the thumb drive in. The monitor immediately came up and requested a password, which the program on the drive began to find.
It was a specialty of Drew’s, figuring out ingenious ways to get at information. If this particular computer had been connected to the Internet, they wouldn’t have needed this act of breaking and entering. Drew would have done everything remotely.
The screen switched as the program located and used the password and moved on to pulling down files. A lot of files.
He sighed and flipped on the small lamp on the desk. It seemed to actually be more functional than decorative.
“I’m doing fine now,” he said quietly as he began to look through the drawers of her desk. Apparently the woman liked stationery. There was a whole drawer filled with neatly stacked stationery and pens of all colors.
“You nearly killed that man. It didn’t just scare Carly. It scared the fuck out of me, too.”
“This is neither the time nor the place.” He opened the drawer to his left and found some mail. He pulled the first one out when he recognized the mailing address of Steven Castalano’s lawyer.
“There never seems to be one. I have to wonder if you’re punishing yourself or me.”
He ignored his brother because that line of thinking made him anxious. Antsy. He wasn’t going there again. He was going to concentrate on the damn job. He opened the envelope, pulling out the letter. It was done on the law firm’s stationery, typed out and official looking.
“I’m sorry, Bran. We’ll talk about this later. You should probably move on to the safe.”
But he was far more interested in the words on that paper.
We regret to inform you that despite the contents of his will and naming you as the benefactor to all contents found in his safety deposit box, we discovered the box was empty. According to bank records a woman with the key entered and was left alone with the box in question five days before the reading of Mr. Castalano’s will. While we understand your anger at this turn of events, we are not responsible for the contents of that box. We will, of course, put you in touch with the bank manager, but he claims it was you who came in and collected the contents of the box. I’ve attached a copy of the sign-in sheets for the day.
“Are you reading this?” Bran asked, trying to get the camera at an angle where Drew could see.
“Five days before the reading of his will would have been the day of his death. I know it well,” Drew replied. “That must have been where he’d hidden his file. There’s zero reason for Patricia to write his lawyers and get bent out of shape if she’d gotten the file. So there were three burn files that we know of.”
“Phillip Stratton destroyed his and replaced it with something that would help Ellie.”
“Yes, and now Castalano’s is gone,” Drew mused.
“Who is Patricia Cain’s beneficiary?” Bran looked through the rest of the desk, finding nothing of import beyond notes about ideas for her show. “Who would get her file if she died?”
“According to what Ellie believes, the last one standing was supposed to destroy them all. Stratton’s files should have gone to the remaining members on his death. Castalano’s would have gone to Cain at this point. Cain would then have everyone’s file and it would have been up to her to destroy all the evidence.”
“But there’s a fourth party involved.” He moved on to start looking for the safe. According to the records one had been delivered and installed in this room, but he wasn’t sure where.
“Yes. I think I’m going to need to talk to your girlfriend. She’s been holding out on us,” Drew said quietly.
“Holding out?” Bran looked around and then stopped in his tracks. “Do you see what I see?”
Behind Patricia’s desk was a large portrait of a woman with raven-colored hair. She was dressed in white, her hair up in an elegant bun. She stared out of the painting, her lips in a slight smile.
It was his mother.
“Okay, something freaky is going on here and I want to know what the fuck it is,” Drew growled.
“Why does she have a portrait of our mother?” She looked so beautiful. He remembered how calm she was, how perfectly she did everything. When he dreamed at night it was of the house they’d lived in and how it always smelled good and dinner had been on the table. His mother liked to try new things and he’d been such a brat about it. He wouldn’t eat anything. Night after night she’d been forced to make him grilled cheese so he would eat anything at all.
“I don’t know, but I think you should check behind it for the safe. Patricia seems to have been very interested in our mother.”
What did that mean? It turned his stomach to think about the implications. He touched the frame. It was gilded and when he pulled on it, the whole thing swung out and revealed the safe he’d been looking for. “It’s here.”
He forced himself to think about the task at hand.
“Do what we planned.” Drew’s voice had gone deep, calming. “Remember how to attach the device.”
He focused, putting aside the thoughts that threatened to overtake him. His childhood pressed at the gates of his consciousness, rattling his peace. He had to hold it together because his blood was pounding through his system again. He managed to pull the panel off the front of the safe and found the wiring to attach the device that would override the safe’s defense systems. He set it in motion and took a step back.
“I’ve got it.”
“Good. Almost done,” Drew said reassuringly.
“How is Carly?” She would be waiting outside for him. She wouldn’t have walked away. The last thing he wanted was for some stray staff to come along and cause trouble for her.
“Your girl can handle herself. She’s got a guest but she’s managed to move him away from the office. You’ve got a few minutes, but we need to get moving.”
The safe dinged and opened. Bran stepped forward and pulled on the handle.
The safe was completely empty.
“Damn it.” Bran closed the safe again and detached the device, shoving it back in his pocket.
/> He turned to the computer. They wouldn’t know if it led to anything at all until they went through the files.
It could all be for nothing. They could have worked all this time and failed. They could have absolutely nothing and he was taking Carly out of here before they knew. He couldn’t leave her behind.
He would have failed.
It had to be on the computer. Why else would she have a solitary computer without any links to the Internet?
“Bran? I think it’s time to move. The computer should have finished the download by now.”
It had. He grabbed the thumb drive and moved through the room, turning the lights off once more. He had to keep his cool and get out of here.
It would all be over soon.
“Am I clear?” Bran asked. Drew would have a view of the hallway.
“Yes, but I need you to go out and turn to your left. Go down the back stairs.”
That wasn’t the route they’d planned, but he was game. He’d walked the house quite a bit in the last week and he could easily get to the kitchens through the servants’ stairs. From there he would make his way back to Patricia and take over for the night. In the morning he and Carly would be gone.
He exited the room as quietly as possible and made sure the lock clicked behind him. The idea of Patricia Cain having that portrait of his mother weighed heavily on him. What had she done all these years? Had she sat in that office and smiled over her defeated enemy? Did she keep the portrait as a reminder of her sins? Or was it a trophy?
The trouble was he couldn’t remember that portrait ever being in their house. His father had been a modern man. All the pictures they’d had had been photographs. They’d been taken by Benedict himself or a photographer their mother had hired to get shots of the whole family.
No one had ever sat for a painted portrait.
He was about to turn to the left when he heard it.
“Stop it. I need you to get your hands off me right now,” Carly said in a low voice, as though she was trying not to make a scene.
