by Anita Meyer
“I asked you before, I’ll ask you again,” Caroline said. “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” Davis answered. “Literally, I want nothing from you. Not a statement. Not a deposition. Not a testimony. Nothing.”
The light began to dawn. “Or what?” she countered. “You’ll kill me? You’ve already tried that—three times. What makes you think you’ll be any more successful this time?”
“You misunderstand, my dear. I have no desire to hurt you. Killing you would only attract more attention to me. No, I give you my word, a solemn oath, that I will not harm you in any way. In fact, if anyone even crosses your path, they will have me to deal with.”
“Get to the point,” Caroline said, feigning more bravado than she felt.
“The point. Ah, yes. Well, simply put, if you say so much as one word against me, Jefferson McKensie is a dead man.”
“No!” Anger, hot and flowing, surged through her body. Never had she hated anyone as much as she hated this one man. She wanted to reach into the phone and grab him by the throat. “No,” she said again. “This is between you and me. Leave him out of it.”
“But he’s already in it, my dear. The minute he became involved with you, he became involved with me. If you keep your mouth shut, no one will get hurt. Do I make myself clear?”
She could barely summon the strength to speak. “Yes,” she half whispered.
“Good. I was sure we could come to an understanding.” A smug satisfaction laced his words. “Goodbye, Mrs. McKensie.”
Chapter 17
The line went dead before she could answer. She spun around looking for someone, anyone who might be watching her. But she was alone in the telephone alcove.
That didn’t mean anything. Davis had contacts everywhere. The waitress, the busboy, the cook—any one of them could be in his employ. The thought was staggering. And what was worse, he knew about her feelings for Jeff. She felt violated, having him know anything at all about her, let alone the fact that she was in love.
In love?
She turned the words over in her mind. For days she had danced around it. But there was no denying the truth. She was in love. And the man she loved would die if she testified.
Minutes ticked by as Caroline stood there, frozen. She didn’t know what to do about Davis, but she had to get away from the phone before Jeff or Mac came looking for her.
A woman turned the corner around the half wall and entered the ladies’ room. Crouching low, Caroline sneaked into the bathroom before the door closed. Then she stood and opened it again.
“I will not harm you…will not harm you…will not harm you….” Davis’s words echoed in her head as she walked back to the table and dropped into her seat.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asked.
Caroline stared at him, memorizing every feature. His tousled blond hair. Eyes the deepest blue she’d ever seen. The square jaw with just a hint of a dimple.
“Jefferson McKensie is a dead man…a dead man…a dead man….” Her anger returned, and with it came a sense of powerlessness. Augie Davis would make good his threat.
There was no way on earth she could testify.
“I’m fine,” she stammered. “Just need some coffee to wake me up.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and took several quick sips. The scalding liquid seared her throat, and she welcomed the pain that chased away the numbness.
All through the meal she felt unseen eyes watching her. There was no getting away from Jeff, and no chance of them getting away from Davis. He knew everywhere they went and everything they did. She wouldn’t risk Jeff’s life by testifying—but she had to make Davis pay for killing her brothers.
But how?
“I want to go to my father’s house,” she announced as they climbed into the car.
“Forget it,” Jeff said.
Caroline shook her head. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’m convinced there are more ledgers. Duplicate sets or photocopies, computer disks, something.”
“We’ve been over this before, Caroline. Davis wouldn’t leave incriminating evidence lying around. And you said yourself there were no ledgers in the library when the police arrived. Face it, Bright Eyes, they’re gone.”
“But what if they’re not?” she persisted. “Davis didn’t actually shoot Brian. He just ordered his goon to do it. They never found a body, and it’s my word against his that he was even in my father’s house that night. If I can’t convince the jury, Davis could walk.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Jeff said. “They’re going to believe you and they’re going to convict him.”
“Fine,” she said. “So Davis is convicted of conspiracy or accessory or whatever the heck you call it. Tell me, counselor, what’s the sentence on something like that?”
Jeff hedged. “It varies from state to state.”
“But it’s short. Too damn short. In a few years, Davis will be out and free to destroy someone else’s life.” The memories gnawed on a corner of her soul, and she turned away. When she spoke again, it was more to herself than anyone else. “Brian wasn’t stupid. If he had something on Davis, he wouldn’t have given it away. It’s somewhere in that house—proof that will put Davis away forever. And I’m going to find it.”
Jeff shook his head. “We’re staying out of the city until the trial starts. And I’ve got plans about where to stay and how to keep you safe during the trial.”
“Damn it, Jeff. You’re not listening to me. I need these last few weeks to find the ledgers.”
“And you’re not listening to me. There’s no way I can check out that house in time for us to use it. It’s not a good plan.”
“You trust Mac,” Caroline insisted. “Send him on ahead.”
“I’m with her,” Mac said. “If there are records, and if we find them, she could put Davis away permanently. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder in a few years when Davis gets out.”
Jeff turned the problem over and over in his mind, examining it from every angle. For a pastry chef, Caroline sure knew a lot about the law. She was absolutely right about the charges. A few years’ jail time, a few years’ parole, and Davis would be back before anybody missed him.
Remembering how close he’d come to losing her—how he could still lose her—made the decision no decision at all. If there was any chance of putting that bastard away for good, he had to take it.
* * *
A sense of melancholy covered the house like a shroud. Even the lights shining from the windows didn’t dispel the gloom. Jeff parked the car across the street, and they sat there, just looking. He didn’t know what Caroline was thinking, but the thoughts couldn’t have been very pleasant. Nothing associated with this house was pleasant. He squeezed her hand. “You sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure,” Caroline said. She fingered one of her earrings. “I don’t have a key, but I can always use this,” she quipped.
Jeff smiled. “You don’t need a key or a lock pick. Mac’s expecting us.”
Sure enough, by the time they’d climbed the steps of the brownstone stoop, Mac had the door open. “You’re late,” he grumbled. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your minds.”
Caroline stood in the hall. Stood in the house that had been purchased with her father’s ill-gotten gains. Stood in the building where she had last seen her brothers. She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. She swallowed and tried again. “You checked it out?” she asked Mac.
“Sure did. I contacted the electricity, phone, and gas companies and had the service restored. And, with Arthur’s help, I had a new security system installed. I didn’t touch anything but the fridge.” He made a face. “Believe me, after four months, nothing in there was worth keeping.”
Caroline inclined her head toward the staircase. “Okay if I go down?”
Mac nodded. “I checked for bugs, taps, and stuff like that, but Caroline…” He waited until she looked him ful
l in the face. “I left everything else just the way I found it.”
“I understand.” She crossed the hall. When Jeff moved to follow her, she laid a hand on his arm. “Please, don’t. I need to be alone. Just a for a little while.”
Jeff hesitated, then finally nodded. He watched her descend the stairs, trailing fingers along the handrail. He didn’t want to let her go, not for a single second, but he had no choice. She needed time and space to face her demons, to grieve for her loss, to heal. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her and kiss her and make all her problems go away. But he couldn’t. This was something she had to do alone.
“What’s the layout?” he asked Mac, when Caroline was out of earshot.
“It’s a five-floor brownstone,” Mac explained. “The fifth floor is actually an attic that was converted into a huge playroom. Floors three and four are bedrooms. Three bedrooms on each. Floor two, where we are now, has a kitchen, dining room and living room. And the first floor, below us, has a music room, billiard room, and—” he glanced toward the stairs “—the library.”
Jeff looked around, noting the twelve-foot ceilings of hand-pounded tin held in place by plaster cornices. It was a grand old house that spoke of years gone by. He whistled softly. If these walls could talk…
“There’s more,” Mac said. “According to Arthur, the contracts on Caroline’s life have been canceled. Apparently Davis changed his mind. He doesn’t want her dead anymore.”
Jeff scoffed. “And you believe him?”
“Not for a minute. But face it, bro, we haven’t had a bit of trouble since Tennessee. Something weird is going on.”
“I know,” Jeff said soberly. “And I don’t like it.”
Caroline lit a single candle on the small Chinese tile table then turned off the lights and sat down on the sofa. The room looked exactly the way it did the last time she was here. Papers and files everywhere. Blood on the carpet.
The French had an expression—plus ca change, plus c’est
la même chose—the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Her life had changed so very much in the last few months. And yet, here she was, right back where it all started. As soon as the trial was over, she would sell this place, and then she’d never have to step foot inside this room again.
Her head swam with the magnitude of all she had to do. Her father’s estate was still unsettled. Probate had been put on hold until after the trial. She laughed bitterly. Her whole life had been put on hold. But soon she would change that. Would start living again. She would see to it that Alden’s share went to his wife in Switzerland. But Brian…She didn’t even know if he had a will.
The candle flickered and Caroline watched the hot wax pool around the wick. The flame threatened to extinguish itself, drowned in its own liquid. But a single drop gathered strength, poised on the rim of the candle, then trickled down the side. Behind it, a torrent of drops, unleased, unchecked, followed the carved path.
A single tear gathered strength, poised on the rim of her eyelid, then trickled down her cheek. Behind it, a torrent of tears, unleased, unchecked, followed suit.
And like the flame, Caroline knew she would burn brighter again in the morning.
Jeff stopped inside the library door. The single candle barely lit the corner of the room, but it was enough for him to see Caroline. She lay on the sofa, deep in sleep. He crossed the room and knelt beside her. Her arm was tucked under her head and her hair fell across her face. Gently, so as not to wake her, he brushed back the silky strands. The eyes beneath seemed sunken and ringed with dark circles. Her cheeks were streaked with dried tears. His soul cried out and again he was at a loss to understand how she could impact him so.
Even in sleep, she touched him, arousing emotions he couldn’t define. His feelings went beyond gut-wrenching desire or fevered lust or a force waiting to be appeased. This was something deeper, richer, infinitely more special.
He wanted to share it with her. All of it—his thoughts, his feelings…his life. There was so much he wanted to tell her. But this wasn’t the time to throw her another crazy, emotional curve.
He blew out the candle, lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs to bed.
* * *
Caroline rolled up the sleeves of the flannel shirt to about the elbows—or rather, to where the elbows would have been on either of her brothers. On her, it was just above the wrist. Worn over a T-shirt, it wasn’t haute couture, but for the work she had planned, it didn’t matter. She pulled the edges of the shirt over her nose and inhaled deeply. It was faint, but it was still there. Beyond the detergent and fabric softener, she could smell Brian’s own special scent. Or maybe it was simply her imagination fervently wishing it so.
Wearing a man’s shirt somehow brought you closer to him, and today she needed to be closer to Brian than ever before. She needed access to his thoughts, wanted to crawl inside his mind, had to put herself in his shoes—she chuckled—or at least, in his shirt.
She heard movement in the hall outside the bathroom, and knew Jeff had passed by. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. She had awakened this morning in her own bed and vaguely remembered Jeff carrying her there. She wasn’t used to that kind of compassion and tenderness. There were a lot of things she wasn’t used to. A lot of things she was beginning to enjoy.
And wouldn’t she love to have a chance to wrap herself in some of his clothes—a shirt or a robe or even a pair of…
Her imagination was off and running, and reluctantly she reined it in.
Her number-one priority had to be keeping Jeff safe. Her second priority was seeing Augie Davis put away. Both objectives could be accomplished with one solution—finding the ledgers.
Snatching up a rubber band, she pulled her hair into a ponytail. With her head down, she hurried into the hall and promptly collided with Jeff.
“Whoa,” he said, his hands catching her shoulders, steadying her. “Where’s the fire?”
Caught in his embrace, she felt the fire the moment he touched her. She tried to look away, but he cupped her chin in one hand and looked deeply into her eyes. His smoldering gaze was so focused, so intense that her throat closed up and it hurt to breathe. He traced a finger along her jaw, lightly, gently, drawing her closer to his heat.
He lowered his head until his lips softly brushed hers, teasing, tempting. His arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss, scorching her nerves, branding her soul.
“Wow,” he said, when they drew apart. “I’ve kissed a lot of women in my life, but you’re the only one whose kiss knocked the world out from under me.”
“Did you want something?” she asked, then blushed at the innuendo.
“The D.A. called. He said he’d call back.”
Caroline shook her head. “When he does, tell him I’m not here.”
Jeff’s forehead furrowed. “Honey, the trial starts in ten days. He needs to go over your testimony.”
“No,” Caroline said flatly.
“It’s routine,” Jeff explained. “Trial prep is something every witness goes through. I’ll sit with you the whole time. Trust me, it will make the actual testifying a lot easier.”
She looked him square in the eye. Her voice was deathly calm. “Neither the D.A. nor anyone from his office is going to step foot in this house.”
Jeff offered her a conciliatory smile. “He thought you’d be more comfortable here. But if you’d rather, we can go there.”
“No,” she said again. She pushed past him and ran down the stairs.
“What do you mean, no?” Jeff followed her into the kitchen. “You’ve got to have someone prepare you, especially for the cross-examination. If you don’t, Davis’s lawyers could destroy you on the stand.”
Caroline took a deep breath. “I’m not going to testify.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve given it considerable thought, and without proof of Davis’s activities, I don’t stand a chance of convicting him. I’m no
t going to put myself through the pain of reliving that night. Instead,” she said, “I will find those ledgers or whatever it was Brian had on Davis, and I will turn them over to the D.A.” She picked up a coffee cup, but he wrenched it out of her hands.
“I don’t buy it. You’ve faced your memories before. You know they can’t hurt you. What are you really afraid of?” She ignored him; concentrated on finding a box of cereal, a bowl, a spoon.
He grabbed her arm and spun her around, the spoon clattering to the floor. “The first time I talked to you, in the limo, I thought you were the most courageous person I’d ever met.”
“Well, that just goes to show you how wrong first impressions can be.”
“I wasn’t wrong, dammit. You’re hiding something.”
Caroline wrenched her arm away. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “What business is it of yours, anyway? You were hired to keep me alive. You did your job. Now collect your money and go home.”
“I told you months ago, I wasn’t in this for the money. I’m still not. So give me one good reason why you’re quitting.”
“Because of what it’s cost me, Jeff. That man has already cost me far too much.”
“And what about the other people he’s destroyed—the addicts, the hookers, the kids? Think of what it cost them, their families. You can stop him if you testify.”
“I can stop him by finding the real proof.”
“And what if you don’t? What if you don’t find a damn thing? What then? If you let this man walk all over you, everything you’ve been through will be for nothing. What will your life be about, then? Just getting by?”
“Yes, just getting by. Which will put me way ahead of Brian and Alden.”
Jeff’s eyes narrowed and he slammed his fist on the counter. “He got to you, didn’t he? Answer me, Caroline. Somehow Davis got to you.”
