by Linda Kage
Remaining in the kitchen to finish my bagel, I tried to think of ways to help him, concocting only crazy, risky, totally over-the-top plans, until he returned.
“Well…” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair before he finally poured himself his own coffee. “Gutierrez seemed awfully interested in obtaining Manuel Bruzón’s personal phone number. I guess the guy really is a notorious hitman. And he’s going to check into the bank account transaction I gave him. So, I don’t know. This might lead to something.” He shrugged and glanced at me with a wince. “Or it might be a dead end.”
I nodded. “Did he have any updates about the non-dead lawyer?”
“He said he’d contacted Mexican authorities about Finley. They were going to see if they could apprehend him today or tomorrow and get some questions in about Lana, and Arthur, and his faked death.”
“Awesome.” I smiled and nodded. “Well, that’s progress, right?”
Hayden seemed distracted as he nodded. “Yeah. But I still wish—dammit.” With a hiss, he shook his head. “We need to get back to that box. If the original will is anywhere, it’s in there.”
“Then let’s go back,” I said.
He glanced at me questionably.
“We can either give her another reason to leave her apartment, or you know…” I shrugged. “She doesn’t exactly strike me as the homebody type. I bet she goes out at some point this weekend. We can just stake out her place until she leaves on her own.”
Hayden nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he murmured, his nod growing more certain. “Yes, let’s do that.”
“Right on,” I whispered with an encouraging nod.
So we packed some stakeout goodies—mostly bottled water and granola bars—and I called home to let the guys know I wouldn’t be returning anytime soon—getting an earful of teasing from Miguel, who answered the phone—and then we were on our way.
It wasn’t until we were parked down the street with eyes on her car that I decided, “You know, this is actually a badass stakeout car.”
“Hmm?” Hayden glanced over at me from the driver’s side and furrowed his brow as if I’d lost my mind.
“I’m serious,” I said, shifting around in my seat. “The seats are comfortable as hell. There’s plenty of legroom, sweet amenities, and yet it’s the most boring-looking thing ever; people look right past it.”
“What can I say?” He winked at me. “I like things with hidden depths.”
I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Such a flatterer,” I muttered. “If you think that’s going to win you a BJ on our stakeout, well then…” Biting my lip meaningfully, I glanced toward his lap. “You just keep up that kind of talk, big boy, and we’ll see what happens.”
His eyebrows lifted with interest. “Really? In that case, have I told you how—”
“Oh my God!” I yelped, catching sight of his mother down the block as she exited her building and slid on a pair of large shades. “There she is.”
“Dammit,” Hayden muttered on a moody scowl. “There went the makings of the best stakeout ever.”
I grinned at him and squeezed his thigh supportively, only to squint with curiosity when I saw Lana pause at that back door of a dark Tahoe with blacked-out windows. The door came open from the inside, and she climbed into the backseat.
“Um, what’s going on?” I asked.
“No idea.” Hayden shook his head slowly with the same confusion.
The Tahoe pulled away from the curb and cruised right past us.
Hayden turned to watch it go by, only to rasp, “Holy shit.” He whipped wide eyes back to me. “Did you see the license plate?”
“No.” I shook my head. “What’d it say?”
“Mad Man,” he answered, his look telling.
I gulped. “Mad Man?” My voice was small as I added, “Short for Mad Manny, you think?”
“Sounds logical to me.”
Lifting my hands in disbelief, I cried, “Jesus, who’s she putting a hit out on now?” Until it struck me. My gaze zipped to Hayden. “Unless you think it’s the lawyer guy. She told him on the phone he was going to regret trying to extort more money from her. And who better would you hire to take out a guy hiding out in Mexico than someone with ties to the Mexican Mafia?”
“Shit.” Hayden ran his hands through his hair. “I hope Gutierrez can get his authority friends to Finley before Lana gets Mad Manny’s people on him.”
Just as I nodded my agreement, he cursed again and flung open his car door. “Dammit. No!”
“What?” I blinked at him as he raced across the street, nearly getting hit by a car in his hurry. “Hayden! What the hell?”
I scrambled after him, held up by traffic before I could run fast enough to catch up. He was already yanking open the side door by the time I reached him.
“Mother of God, what is wrong with you?”
He sent me a harassed glance as he stormed down the hall. “The scrap of paper for Mad Manny—his phone number—it was on the top of the pile when we opened that box last night, wasn’t it?”
“I…” With a wince, I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“It was,” he answered with more certainty. Then he gulped uneasily. “But I don’t think it ended up on top when we were in a rush to shove everything back inside. And if she had to get in there to retrieve Mad Manny’s number—right after we left—then she probably noticed that everything was out of order.” His gaze met mine. “And she’ll know someone was in there.”
“Shit,” I muttered, feeling doomed.
When Lana’s sparkly door came into view, we both kicked it into gear, jogging until we reached it. Hayden had his keycard out faster. He unlocked the door and pulled it open less than a second later.
Hurrying ahead, Hayden was already climbing onto the kitchen island by the time I made it to the room. He shoved up the ceiling tiles and poked his hand into the dark space above them. After feeling around for over a minute, he sent me a hopeless glance and shook his head miserably.
The box was gone.
Chapter 29
Gabby
We’d had it. We’d had the proof I’m sure we needed to put Lana away. It was in our very grasp. And we’d lost it.
The blow hit Hayden the hardest.
He took me directly home after we left Lana’s apartment, and he didn’t say a word the entire way there. When he parked at the curb, he just stared ahead, out the windshield, and methodically tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, his mind a million miles away.
“You want to come in?” I asked softly, thinking I sounded like a clingy, insecure girlfriend, but not even caring. I wanted to help him so bad; I just didn’t know how.
He glanced at me shortly. “No. Not today.”
“Hayden,” I started on a sigh. “Don’t let this get to you. It was just one little setback. We can—”
“I know.” He finally sent me the ghost of a smile, as if he was at least grateful for my attempt to cheer him up. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t. Not to him. And I didn’t know what to say to make it better.
Seeing my concern, he tipped his head towards my building. “Seriously, it’ll be okay. Go on in, now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not going to go back there without me to look again, are you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then—”
“I just…” He held up a hand, wincing. “I need a bit of time to think.”
My mouth fell open. The jerk was trying to shut me out. I should’ve resisted, forced him to let me back in. But then, I also knew what it felt like to need some space and alone time, just to think and clear my head in order to tackle a situation from a new angle.
So I nodded. “Okay then. Take some time.”
I opened the door to leave, but he caught my hand. Trying not to appear too hopeful as he drew me back to him, I held my breath when he stopped just shy of kissing me.
“I’ll see you Monday m
orning?” he asked.
I blinked in confusion. “Monday?”
He nodded. “To pick you up for work?”
Seriously? He didn’t want to see me again until Monday? How the hell long did he need to think? Damn. This setback had really shaken him.
But I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Monday.”
He finally kissed me then. And all that space I’d been feeling between us disappeared. The need in his lips as they clung to mine reassured me that he still wanted me in his life. His mood was purely because of the missing box, not us.
Less worried when he pulled back, I smiled and touched his cheek. “Don’t get into any trouble without me.”
He snickered. “Trouble’s no fun unless you’re in it with me.”
By Monday, however, he was back to being quiet and withdrawn again. Not even Miguel’s chatter on our way to his school could muster more than a couple indecipherable grunts of acknowledgement from him.
Alone time hadn’t helped shit.
“Hey,” I said, taking in his troubled expression as soon as Miguel was gone. “Talk to me.”
He shot me a short, moody glower. “About what?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, scowling back. “Anything. Just let me know what’s on your mind right now.”
“What’s on my mind,” he repeated slowly. “Maybe you should ask what’s not on my mind. I mean, fucking hell, where should I start? I can’t help but wonder what’ll happen if the detective doesn’t think this case is worth pursuing and he never gets in touch with Finley. Or what if—miracle of miracles—Finley hasn’t been taken out by the Mexican Mafia yet and authorities actually can question him, but he refuses to divulge his connection to Lana? Or what if he does roll over on Lana, yet they still don’t find enough evidence against her to prosecute her for anything? What if she learns what I’ve been trying to do and goes after Brick to punish me? Or she goes after you?”
He glanced at me, looking tormented. “And here I am, driving you straight to her lair, all the while I’m putting you at risk with my—”
“Hayden,” I said calmly, cutting into his tirade. “Breathe, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not!” he boomed. “Not until we find something to stop her. Not until—Jesus.” He wiped a hand over his face. “It’s hopeless, isn’t it? I don’t know where else to look. And she’s going to end up destroying us all.”
Since I knew he wouldn’t listen to any words of encouragement from me, I fell quiet, trying to think of something I could do to convince him it wasn’t hopeless. We could still triumph.
But I could see why his will was slipping. He’d had to put up with Lana’s tyranny for too long. For his entire life. The poor, exhausted man needed a break. It was time for a newer, fresher opponent to take up his torch.
My mind started to race with ideas of where I could look for Lana’s new hiding place when I noticed some graffiti spray-painted on the side of an old warehouse we were passing. The infamous artist, Black Crimson, has struck again, and just in time. I kind of needed his spray-painted words of encouragement right now.
And when I read the message, I smiled. It was perfect.
“Look.” I pointed before I quoted the phrase aloud. “When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this. You haven’t.”
Under the words, a picture of a princess had been painted. She was trying to reach a sleeping knight in a high tower by lassoing the dragon guarding the entrance and throwing a saddle over its back so she could use it as a stepping stone instead of a blockade and ride the beast up to save her lover.
“Thomas Edison,” Hayden murmured on a nod, naming the source of the quote. He slowed the car as we approached Preston Estates, but instead of pulling up to the curb, he suddenly muttered, “Screw this,” and pressed on the gas, speeding right past the building.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” I cried. He needed to let me out so I could find that damn box for him and take all his troubles away. “Hayden?”
“I’m taking you back home,” he growled, turning at the next intersection. “You are not working for her another day. I refuse to let another person I care about get trapped under her controlling thumb.”
My mouth fell open as I watched him grind his teeth and shake his head like a frantic man who’d reached the end of his rope.
“Hayden,” I said softly, reaching out to touch his bicep. “It’s okay. Baby, I’m fine. Really. You know, cleaning her apartment isn’t that bad at all. I’ve had so many worse jobs. And she—”
“No,” he bit out, shaking his head insistently. “The only reason she hasn’t truly terrorized you yet is because she doesn’t realize how much you really mean to me. Plus she’s been too focused on other things, like hiring hitmen to rough up Daffodils, or getting her son’s portfolio stolen from his office, or purposely running her own company into the ground just to spite her stepdaughter, and evading non-dead lawyers who’re trying to blackmail her. But she’ll get back around to you someday. She does with everyone. And I’m not going to allow it. Not this time.”
My smile bloomed as he raged on. “I care for you too, you know.”
He was past hearing me, though. “I’m done,” he spat. “I’m tired of always having to be on my toes, looking for the next attack, bracing for whatever horrifying bomb she’s going to drop next. I want out. I want it to end. I want—dammit.” He stomped on the gas to race through a yellow light. “As soon as I drop you off at your building, I’m finding that damn box and I’m not taking it out of my sight until the police show up to arrest her. Forever.”
I shook my head incredulously. “Oh no, you’re not.”
He sent me an impatient glance. “Yes, I am! I have an idea where she might’ve taken it. If she moved it from her hiding place at the apartment, it’s because she knows it’s no longer safe there, right? So I’m going back to the first place I checked. Her office. But this time—”
“Carmichael, I said no.”
“Gabby, you’re not going to stop me.” He skidded the car to a halt in front of my building. “I’m doing this. Come hell or high water, I’m going to protect you. Now get out.”
With an impatient sigh, I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t saying no to talk you out of it, you moron. I was saying no, you’re not going without me.”
He shook his head, confused. “What?”
“I’m coming with you,” I reiterated and nudged his shoulder. “Now drive.”
“Gabby,” he rasped, shifting his head back and forth in a lame attempt to deny me. “No. She has her office wired with an alert system. I’m not putting you in that kind of danger.”
I sniffed. “Oh, please. Just try to get rid of me. You were there to help me when I broke into my first place, so I’m returning the favor.”
“But this isn’t my first—”
“I don’t care,” I snarled. “We’re in this together now.”
He opened his mouth to deny me again, but I looked him straight in the eye, giving him one of his own stern looks that always got others to obey.
And what do you know—I could tell the exact moment his will dissolved. His eyes softened and lips parted. Then he screwed his expression up into irritation and reluctantly muttered, “I’m going to regret this,” as he steered back into traffic.
“No, you’re not,” I encouraged, punching his arm in excitement. “It’s going to be epic. Couples that break in together stay together, you know.”
“Yeah,” he answered dryly. “In jail.”
“Then we can wear a tux and wedding dress for our mugshots and have matching orange jumpsuits for our honeymoon,” I teased on a laugh. “It’ll be a blast.”
He glanced my way and lifted an eyebrow. “Any conjugal visits?”
With a wink, I seductively whispered, “I’ll make sure we end up in the couples cell block.”
For the first time in days, I saw his shoulders loosen as he grinned out his amusement over my corny jokes and rolled his eyes.
He’d just let me back in again. Thank God.
“Only you would find this romantic,” he murmured with affectionate exasperation.
I nudged his shoulder and wiggled my eyebrows. “You know it, baby.”
When we reached Judge Fashions Industry, I blew out a whistle and shook my head. “So this is the place Kaitlynn should be running right now, huh?”
“Yep.”
“No wonder why you’re determined to help her get it back. She shouldn’t be living in that building of Darmon’s at all. The life she’s used to is so much grander than—”
“We’ll make sure she gets it all back,” Hayden reassured me before he exited the car to meet me on my side.
I nodded, feeling his determination now, and I exited the vehicle too. Taking his hand when he reached for mine, we started determinedly toward the building.
“All right,” I said, popping my neck one way, then the other, as if I was getting ready to rumble. “Let’s Bonnie and Clyde this joint.”
Except Hayden shook his head and winced. “Bonnie and Clyde robbed banks and gas stations and killed people. We’re just seeing justice done, which makes us more like—I don’t know—Robin Hood and Maid Marian maybe.”
“Okay, fine.” I nodded. “I can dig that, too.” Then I slapped him on the butt and added, “I’ll be Robin Hood,” before racing ahead.
He caught up to me at the doorway. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he tugged me back against him and kissed me behind one ear before murmuring, “In your dreams you’re Robin Hood,” just before he pulled me behind him so he could enter first.
“Bastard,” I hissed at his back, scowling harder when he only chuckled.
Since I’d never been inside JFI before and didn’t know my way around, I let him lead the way. But that’s the only reason I allowed it. He was so not going to be Robin Hood in this scenario. Robin Hood was the main star. And that was definitely me.
We walked down a few halls, acting as if we had every right to be there—which, I guess he actually did, since he worked here. Huh. Sweet.
