Kitabı oku: «Fatal Charm»
Fatal Charm
Aimée Thurlo
To Karen Fiss—There are no bats in her belfry, but there are most certainly rats in her basement.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Amanda Vila—She was not only risking her heart. She was risking all she held dear.
Tony Ramos—His charm could be fatal, in more ways than one.
Ricky Biddle—He was always there to help whenever there was trouble.
Raymond Atcitty—Loyalty and duty were more than words. But how far would he go to protect a friend?
Ron Vila—He traded love for money, but what else would he risk?
Katrina Clark—She’d protect her boss’s interests one way or another.
Bernice Goldman—She loved Amanda like a daughter and would protect her at all costs.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Prologue
Lynn Ramos heard the screen door slam behind her as she walked outside onto the moonlit porch. She’d meant to adjust that annoying spring latch many times, but had never quite gotten around to it. Quickly, she glanced down at the soft bundle in her arms. The baby stirred, yawned without opening her eyes, then drifted back to sleep. Lynn smiled, relieved. Six-month-old Carmen could sleep through most anything.
Lynn drew her daughter closer, protecting her from the winter evening as she walked around the Bureau sedan to their own car. She fastened the baby into the car seat, then glanced back through the kitchen window. Tony was still on the phone. Everything in their lives always seemed to take a distant second to his career in the FBI. As usual, that had been the focus of their argument tonight.
Lynn drove down the narrow two-lane highway, tears streaming down her face. She wondered if Tony had even noticed she’d left. The thought that he might not have noticed cut deeply. She stared ahead stubbornly, turning onto the mountain road that led toward her sister’s house.
As she followed the sharp curve in the road, she heard something shift on the floor of the car. Lynn glanced down for an instant and saw a paper sack jutting out from beneath the front passenger’s seat. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reached down. As she picked it up, a small stuffed raccoon fell out of the sack, tumbling onto the seat beside her.
Lynn recognized the toy she’d meant to pick up for the baby. Her throat tightened as she realized Tony had made time to go by Toy Mart and buy it for Carmen. A rush of warmth swept over her, dissipating her anger. Tony’s dedication to his job was infuriating at times but, in her heart, she knew that he loved her and Carmen deeply.
Lynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her hair-trigger temper had certainly been working overtime tonight. What on earth had she been thinking? She watched the snow flurries pile up on her windshield, then get swept to the side as the wipers kept up their steady rhythm. She should have never gone out on a night like this.
Hearing the soft gurgling coming from Carmen, she turned up the heater a click, making sure the car stayed warm enough for the baby.
“Okay, little girl.” She smiled, looking at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “Mom blew a gasket, as usual, but we’re going back home now.”
Lynn began searching for a place to turn the car around. Narrow shoulders plagued this mountain highway east of Santa Fe. She slowed down, pumping the brakes carefully on the icy road as she rounded a switchback curve, careful to avoid picking up more speed than was safe for this stretch of pavement.
Suddenly, out of the gloom ahead she saw a pair of blinding headlights coming straight at her. The driver was on the wrong side of the road!
Lynn pulled the wheel hard to the right, barely missing the other car as it shot by. She fought the steering wheel and brake, trying to bring her car back under control on the glaring ice covering the road.
Lynn screamed as the car skidded off the pavement and hurtled down the hillside into a dark abyss. Something smashed against the windshield, and she was instantly covered with chunks of glass. The car plunged into a steep ravine, flipping end over end.
As the car finally came to a stop, Lynn struggled to hold on to consciousness, but it was a losing battle. One by one, her senses began to fail. First, she couldn’t feel anything, not even the cold. Then silence enveloped her as if her ears were stuffed with cotton. As her sight gave way, surrounding her with a soupy blackness, she tried to reach out and touch the car and panicked as she realized her arm wouldn’t move.
Then, suddenly, the darkness lifted, and a sense of peace filled her. There was no reason to fear. Her child would be all right. Freed, she surrendered to the light.
* * *
FLASHLIGHT IN HAND, the solitary man staggered drunkenly down the snow-covered slope toward the car. What had he done? The cold wind stung his face, sobering him up.
Though he didn’t want to climb down into the arroyo, something compelled him to keep going. He slowed down, trying to stay on his feet, but the going was icy and rough, and he kept slipping and falling.
If there really was a hell, he was sure the Almighty had reserved a special spot for him. He should never have taken that first drink tonight, much less the fourth. Or was it fifth? He knew better. But it was too late to think about that now. He had to concentrate on damage control.
Maybe there was still a way for him to get out of this mess without losing everything. One thing was clear, there was no way he could report the accident. The police would smell the whiskey on his breath three miles away. They’d jail him, and he’d be ruined.
As a sliver of moonlight edged out from behind the clouds, he saw the car clearly for the first time. Dear God, nobody could have survived that! It was right side up, but the top was caved in like a soda can that had been stomped by a heavy boot.
He turned around, ready to climb back out, when he heard a soft mewling cry. A cat? He glanced around, trying to clear his thinking, but his thoughts seemed strangled by the thick cobwebs the liquor had left behind. He stood motionless and listened, still not wanting to approach the car. If the driver, by some miracle, was still alive, he’d phone in and report the accident anonymously.
Hearing the soft cry again, he forced himself to go closer to the wreck. The body of the driver was slumped to the right of the steering wheel at an odd angle. One look told him she was dead.
His attention shifted as he heard the cry again. It was coming from the back seat. Aiming the flashlight beam, he saw an infant in a car seat. An embroidered blanket lay on the floor beside her. The child’s pink-and-white sleeper was covered with tiny cubes of glass, but she appeared unharmed, except for a few slight scratches on her face.
His gut tightened. This was the last thing he needed. Unless he got the kid out of there, she wouldn’t have a chance. The cold would finish what the accident had started. He went to the rear door, grabbed the handle with both gloved hands, and pulled hard. His feet slipped on the frozen ground, sending him sprawling backward. He fell hard into the snow.
All he wanted to do was get out of this place, but he couldn’t leave the baby. He staggered back to the door and stared at the child inside. The baby’s gaze seemed focused on the beam of his flashlight, and strangely enough, she’d stopped crying.
He glanced around. No help was in sight; it was up to him. The driver was dead, and the snow was intensifying. It would be hours before help could arrive. What the hell was he going to do?
Almost as if guessing his thoughts, the baby reached out with one tiny hand, her fingers opening and closing, seeking contact. He watched her, avoiding her touch, trying to decide on a course of action. As if suddenly impatient, the baby let out a long wail.
“Shut up, kid.” He held his hands over his ears. His head felt as if it were exploding, and the high-pitched crying was torture. Why did this have to happen to him?
Then abruptly the child stopped crying and stared at him, expressionless. That scared him into action. He pulled at the broken window and managed to break away most of the remaining glass. As he brushed the baby’s face with one finger, he realized the child was ice-cold. Leaning through the opening, he quickly freed her from the car seat.
The infant made a soft, gurgling sound and then smiled.
“You’re a smart little cookie, aren’t you?” he muttered, picking her up and maneuvering her through the window.
The child’s eyes closed, but he knew she’d be okay. All she needed right now was to get warm. The heater in his car would take care of the problem. His gaze drifted to the body of the woman behind the wheel. He couldn’t help her, but he’d take care of her baby. He owed her that much.
He reached into the car one last time for the baby’s blanket and wrapped it around her. Then he placed the child inside the folds of his jacket and began to plow back up the hill, ignoring the torrent of snow stinging his eyes. There was only one way for him to protect himself and still keep the kid safe. He knew exactly what to do, and he would do it.
Chapter One
May—Three years later
Amanda Vila stood by her window, watching the children playing outside in the shade of the large cottonwood. The bells of St. Francis Cathedral, in the heart of Santa Fe, mingled with the happy squeals and laughter of the preschoolers outside.
Starting this day-care center had taken all Amanda’s savings, and then some. But it had been worth it. She was finally back home, her business was thriving, and for the first time in over a year, she felt on top of the world.
She watched her own daughter outside, playing with the other children under the watchful eyes of her staff. She was proud of Los Tesoros Day School. When she assured parents that her day-care center was the best around, she knew it was no idle boast. She’d worked hard to make it a place she felt safe entrusting with her own treasured child.
Hearing her door open, Amanda turned around just as her assistant and friend, Bernice Goldman, came into the room.
Bernice was fifty-five. Her salt-and-pepper hair made her look slightly older, but she refused to color it, stubbornly maintaining she’d earned each and every one of her gray hairs. Life hadn’t always been kind to Bernice, Amanda knew. A lifetime of struggles had imprinted a certain harshness on her features, but that always disappeared in a burst of warmth the second she smiled.
“Mail came,” Bernice said. “All of it is routine, except this,” she added, placing a padded envelope on Amanda’s desk. “It was marked Personal.”
Amanda glanced at the hand-lettered envelope, noting there was no return address. “Strange,” she said and started removing the staples that sealed the edge. “I hate things like this that come out of nowhere. I’m always certain it’s going to be bad news.”
“I’ve known you all your life. I even baby-sat you when you were your daughter’s age. You’re pretty tough. You’ll handle whatever life throws at you.”
Amanda extracted a small white sheet of paper and a cardboard box, the kind inexpensive jewelry comes in. Scanning the typed note quickly, she glanced up. “We’ve got trouble, all right,” she said, brushing back a strand of her shoulder-length brown hair. “You know Tony Ramos?”
“The guy who got fired from the FBI after his daughter was kidnapped a few years back?” Seeing Amanda nod, Bernice shrugged. “Of course. Everyone does. He’s some sort of self-appointed vigilante nowadays. Wasn’t he thrown in jail recently?”
“He’s been released. He must have come by here last week,” Amanda said. “I saw the updated computer-generated image of his daughter on our bulletin board, which means he found a way to get in again. You’d think he’d understand why I left word for him to simply mail the flyers and not drop them by in person. We can’t have someone like him coming around when children are here. Parents would get worried. Let’s face it, he was fired from the Bureau for excessive force, and now with that arrest for brawling in a bar, it’s obvious he’s living on the edge. His reputation is gone.”
“Maybe it’s just a matter of his wanting to pin it up there himself to make sure it’s done,” Bernice suggested. “He goes to all the area day-care centers personally, I’m told.”
“I only wish I knew how he’s getting in here. Our staff categorically denies helping him, and I believe them. On the other hand, there are never any signs of a break-in, so that’s not the answer.” Amanda sighed. “Now I’ve got to contact him. Fate’s having a laugh at my expense. Can you bring me his latest flyer?”
Bernice left the office and came back a moment later. “Here it is. What’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but I will as soon as I can. Count on it.”
Amanda waited until Bernice had left her office, then dialed Tony Ramos’s number. Ramos’s voice was gruff. From the sound of it, she was willing to bet she’d awakened him even though it was almost noon.
Amanda quickly told him about the packet she’d just received. “The note says they have news of your child, and I was to contact you but say nothing to the police. That’s exactly what I’ve done so far. I figured you’d want to handle things yourself.”
“Correct assumption.” His voice had changed and was now completely alert. “I’ll handle it my own way. Anything else?”
“There’s a small box that came in the envelope. Shall I open it?”
“No, I’ll take care of that. I’m on my way over now,” he said.
“No. Let me meet you elsewhere.” Amanda’s thoughts were racing. Trouble seemed to follow Tony Ramos, and her business didn’t need his kind of publicity. “I’ll meet you in the little park north of the cathedral. How much time do you need?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
Amanda leaned back in the chair, trying to collect her thoughts. Why was she being used to contact Ramos? The only connection between them that she could think of was the flyer that he left here every few months. But he left an identical one at every other day-care center in the city, as well as many other places. Perhaps none of the other day-care centers could match the reputation for excellence hers had acquired. Or maybe it was just that hers was the largest ad in the Yellow Pages. At this point, it was just too hard to venture any reliable guesses.
Ten minutes later, Amanda picked up the envelope on her desk. As she started toward the door, the buzzer on her desk sounded. Ignoring it, she continued out to the reception area. “Whoever it is will have to wait, Bernice. I’ve got to leave right now.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve come to you,” a deep, masculine voice said.
Amanda saw the tall, dark-haired man stride around Bernice and come toward her. Nothing could have prepared her for the raw, muscled masculinity and vitality this man exuded when seen up close. For a moment, all she could do was stare.
“I was about to tell you,” Bernice said, “that Mr. Ramos had arrived.”
“We should talk privately,” Ramos said, then, maneuvering past Amanda, led the way into her office.
As Amanda watched, Tony stalked across the room and sat in the chair across from her desk. Anger and disbelief mingled disturbingly inside her. With great deliberation, Amanda walked around to face him but didn’t sit down. Trying to look as intimidating and commanding as he did, she leaned against her desk and regarded him boldly.
Instinct told her that he was a man who was used to getting his way. He lived in a world of violence where his wits and his fists were his two best allies. Amanda couldn’t afford to let him get the upper hand. She fixed him with an unblinking glare, and he gave her an arrogant half smile, as if he knew precisely what she was doing. Every inch of her body began to tingle. She felt as if lightning were about to strike.
“Mr. Ramos.” She forced herself to use that special tone she’d found particularly effective against people who challenged her authority.
“Please, sit down and relax,” he said cordially. “I’m really quite harmless.” Ramos’s voice was surprisingly soft. “You said you had something for me?”
“Mr. Ramos, I asked you specifically not to come here.”
“I was in the area, and I wanted to save your valuable time,” he countered evenly.
“I appreciate that, but you should have respected my position.” She slid the padded envelope over to him. “Here’s what arrived in our mail today.”
Ramos read the note, then pulled out the small package inside the envelope. As he opened the box, an infant-size gold ID bracelet slipped out. His hand shook briefly, then stopped.
The tiny bracelet had affected him, but he brought himself under control in the blink of an eye. Amanda couldn’t help wondering what kind of life would require that a man develop such complete emotional control.
“Exactly when did you get this?” His gaze was shuttered as he glanced up, his voice low and steady.
“Less than half an hour ago. I called you right after I read the note.” Amanda looked away from the coal black eyes that were now trained on her. Ramos’s attention made her feel nervous and self-conscious. She glanced back at him furtively, noting the way his shirt clung to his broad shoulders, accentuating his muscular build. Sensual awareness flickered to life within her. The unexpected reaction took her by complete surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt the primitive surge of desire. She suppressed it quickly. This kind of hormonal rush was the last thing she needed now.
“Has anyone called you and followed up on the note since we spoke? I expect someone will call to confirm whether or not you received it.”
“I haven’t heard from anyone.” She could feel the anger he kept in check with his iron will. She suspected it wouldn’t take much to have it come crashing to the surface.
He studied the closed box. “This bracelet belonged to my daughter. I recognize the little nick over the letter C. My father inscribed it for her. His hands shook at the time. Parkinson’s,” he added, glancing up. His gaze drifted down her body, lingering for a moment on her throat, then her breasts, searching and gaining knowledge far too intimate for strangers.
On impulse, Amanda used the silence stretching out between them to study him as thoroughly as he’d done her. She had to fight not to smile when she saw the glimmer of surprise on his face.
Ramos quickly drew back into himself, growing somber. “After all these years, the kidnappers finally get in touch. But the real bottom line is that they’ve chosen to contact me through you. Why do you think that is?”
“Maybe they want someone less...shall we say, unpredictable to deal with? I’m known in this town and have a very solid reputation as a businessperson and an active citizen.”
“Meaning I don’t.” He smiled, but it never reached his eyes.
Amanda shrugged. “You asked for a guess. I gave you one.”
Tony’s eyes were as dark as a summer storm. Finally he moved over to the window and glanced at the children playing outside. “I hope you’re playing straight with me, Amanda.” His tone made his words half prayer, half threat.
The way he said her name made a shiver course up her spine. “I am.” An unspoken challenge charged the air between them. She tried to appear in control, but her heart was racing with excitement. “I’ve told you all I know.”
“Good, because I can be very unpleasant when someone crosses me.” Ramos turned and trapped her gaze. “Given a choice, that’s not the way I’d like things to be between you and me.”
Amanda forced herself to remain very still. “Tell me, Mr. Ramos, which part of that was a threat, the first or the second?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t crack a smile. “You don’t rattle easily.”
“I can’t afford that luxury. I run a day-care center filled with toddlers,” she said, reminding herself to stay cool. Despite his charm and soft voice, he was a man of violence. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that.
“I wish I could tell you that I know precisely what being around toddlers is like, but I can’t. My child is gone, and that’s a situation I intend to rectify, no matter who I have to walk over or how long it takes.”
Amanda heard, as well as felt, the steel-hard determination in his voice. She was a good judge of character and, right now, all her instincts were telling her that Ramos meant trouble. He would do whatever was necessary to get his child back, regardless of the consequences. She could understand that, even support it, but she had to make sure he didn’t run roughshod over her and jeopardize everything she valued in the process.
Tony eased the note and the box back into the envelope and picked it up by the edges. “I’ll be back after I run this by a few of my sources.”
“No, you won’t. You can call me here, but I do not want you coming by again. Is that clear? I won’t refuse to help you, though your reputation precedes you. However, I cannot afford to have the parents of the children in my care getting nervous.”
“The more people I make nervous, the sooner I get my little girl back,” he said coldly.
After Tony left, the room felt oddly empty. His intensity and rough manner should have repelled her, yet she couldn’t remember ever feeling so drawn to a man. Her body was still trembling with excitement. Tony Ramos exuded an aura of supercharged maleness that practically took her breath away.
Bernice knocked and came into the office without a pause. “Well?”
“He’s a bit cool and very forceful, but not as bad as his reputation makes him out to be. But then again, in his profession, I’m sure he’s learned to wear many masks. In this particular case, too, he’s fighting to get his child back. I’m sure he’s prepared to become whatever he needs to be to get her back. If Hope was taken from me, I know I would.”
Bernice gazed at her speculatively. “I know a bit about him, but it’s mostly from newspapers and gossip I’ve picked up. Are you interested?”
Amanda nodded.
“His wife was involved in a terrible accident three years ago, killed almost instantly. Ramos was the one who found her, but by the time he reached the accident site, his daughter had already been taken. A massive search got underway, but the accident took place during a winter storm so there were almost no clues. Heavy snowfall had obscured the tracks of the person who took his child.”
“He lost his wife and daughter at the same time?” Amanda’s stomach tied itself in knots. “That certainly explains a lot about him.”
“But not everything. There have been questions about Tony Ramos for a long time. He’s been more or less unemployed for the past three years, but his style of living hasn’t noticeably changed. He’s never short of money, it seems. And he hangs out with real scum—crooks and cutthroats of all sorts.” Bernice exhaled softly. “He comes in a nice package, but he’s bad news from what I’ve heard.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second. I still feel for him, though. What mother wouldn’t? I’ll do what I can to help, but I’ve got my own daughter to think about. I intend to keep my association with Tony Ramos as brief as I can—and as far from Hope as possible.”
Bernice stood as the phone on Amanda’s desk began to ring. “Amanda, one more thing. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here, but I gather it has something to do with his daughter. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t wait for him to call the police if I were you. He may not, and you need to protect the center on this. If the newspapers ever get hold of this story, you’re going to want it known that you took all the proper steps.”
* * *
THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON went by with agonizing slowness. Amanda had expected to get a call from the police. The fact that none came made her think Bernice had been right to suspect Tony wouldn’t tell them. Uneasiness spread through her and she began to regret her agreement to let him handle things his own way. Tony was obviously unafraid to take the law into his own hands. The thought of him acting on his own, answering to no one and perhaps giving in to his violent side, frightened her. Foreknowledge meant she’d share responsibility for his actions.
Amanda picked up the phone ready to call the police, then set it back down. She wanted to give him a chance to play it his way. Any parent searching for his or her child deserved that much. More important, at this point, he was only checking with his sources. The police certainly hadn’t helped him much, judging by the results. Her gaze fell on the photo of Hope on her desk. She couldn’t even imagine being without her daughter, living in that uncertain limbo Tony had dwelt in all this time. She’d give him a chance, but if by tonight she hadn’t heard from the police, then she’d step in.
Several more hours crept by before Amanda finally cleared her desk, ready to leave. It was almost five, time to pick up Hope in the nursery and go home. The time she spent with her daughter in the evenings was her favorite part of the day, and thanks to Bernice, she now had even more time. Bernice had taken over the job of staying late and locking up after all the children were gone.
Amanda stepped into the outer office and spoke to the older woman. “Hope and I will be going now. We’ll see you tomorrow.” As she reached the door, the telephone rang. Amanda stopped and waited, wondering if the police had finally decided to call.
“It’s for you,” Bernice said, putting the caller on hold. “The voice sounds funny somehow. It’s a woman, I can tell that much, but she won’t identify herself. She says it’s urgent. I tried to put her off, but she says she knows you’re still here.”
“I’ll take it in my office.” Puzzled, Amanda returned to her desk and reached for the phone, identifying herself quickly.
“I’m the one who sent you the bracelet,” the woman answered, her voice pitched higher than ordinary, like an audio tape playing at the wrong speed. “Now listen carefully, because I won’t be on long. Tell Ramos I know where his kid is. I will give him the information, but first I have certain chores for him. He can start by going to the FBI office here in town and getting a copy of the file on the Henderson case.”
“But he’s not an agent anymore,” Amanda countered, wondering how any local person could be unaware of that, as she wrote the woman’s demands down on a notepad.
“He’s still got connections. He’ll manage. Just tell him he’s got two days to meet my first demand, or he can kiss his kid goodbye forever.”
“Why don’t you deal directly with him? Why are you telling me?”
“You’re our ace in the hole in case we need someone to put a leash on Ramos. You see, we know all about you, too, Ms. Vila. You’re the perfect choice, because you have a secret...and something to lose.”
“What do you mean?” Amanda silently denied the words had any connection to her life as she struggled to understand the woman, whose strange voice was clipped and harsh, probably because it was being electronically disguised.
“We know your daughter was adopted, and that you’ve tried to keep that from everyone. If you don’t do whatever we say, we’ll make sure you regret it. We can alter adoption records, even make sure that the age-progression software Ramos is using starts producing an image that looks just like your kid. We can set it up so that there’ll be no doubt in his mind that she’s his little girl. Once he’s convinced, it won’t matter what anyone else thinks or says. Official approval or not, you know he’ll stop at nothing to take her away from you.”
That threat had the ring of truth. Having met Tony, Amanda couldn’t deny it. She felt her blood turn to ice. “Breaking into the state’s computers can’t be easy. How do I know this isn’t just some kind of bluff?”
“Check it out. We’ve set up a little demonstration. There is no longer any computerized record of your daughter’s adoption. We’ve eliminated it from the data banks completely.”
“I still have the original documents,” Amanda answered, unable to suppress the fear that came through in her voice.
“Nothing exists in the computer’s memory to back them up. Ramos could claim they were phony.”
“You’ve obviously been digging deeply into my life. Why? What do you want from me?”
“Just do what you’re told and don’t go to the police, not unless you want to be responsible for the death of his child, and the loss of your own. And don’t even think about running. If you do, we’ll make sure Ramos tracks you down wherever you go. In the end, we’d be off the hook, he’d have your child, and you’d have nothing.”
“Blood tests would prove my daughter isn’t his,” Amanda argued back angrily.
“And not yours, either. Are you willing to give up the girl to a welfare agency while the courts decide the case? That could take months, years maybe. I’ll bet the press would like to know about it, too. Imagine how a story like this could affect your business. Who’d trust an accused baby snatcher with their own precious darlings?”
“You’re bluffing,” Amanda uttered in disbelief.
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