Kitabı oku: «Fatal Secrets», sayfa 3

THREE

Zane watched Kristin slip into the modest bungalow, only to exit a few seconds later with a faux suede tailored jacket in a dark blue color. She’d also chosen a long, thin scarf to ward off the cool breeze. She’d wrapped it once around her neck.

He let out a long breath as he shook his head. She obviously did not know how to protect herself. If someone wanted to harm her, a long scarf would be a perfect weapon.

She’d been pushed into traffic; he believed that, not only because of the smudges, but also because to trip right at that moment was simply too coincidental.

And he didn’t believe in coincidences. Nor did he believe in wearing things that an attacker could use against a person.

Patience, he told himself. She’s not as cynical as you are. She probably hadn’t seen her father try to strangle her mother.

“I’ve got to teach you how to dress,” he muttered as she climbed in his car again.

“I beg your pardon!”

He had to smile at her shocked but polite words. She had excellent diction, though her accent was definitely northwestern. “I mean that you need to choose clothes that can’t be used as weapons.”

She looked down at herself. “Like what?”

“Your scarf. If someone is after you, then you must not give them anything they can use against you.” He paused, then added, “And you need to not act so…” He fought for the right words, then knowing they’d never come, he said, “regally.”

She tightened her jaw. “I’m not a princess.” She eased off on the outraged expression, looking more hurt than anything else. “My adoptive mother, Anna, was an English teacher, born of British parents. My father was a lawyer here in town and, before that, in Billings. He was good at his job. Projecting an air of confidence was important to him.”

“Your mother was a teacher?”

Looking sad, she said, “Well, yes, until I was—came along. She retired to stay home with me. She loved being a mother.”

He softened. He knew he’d hurt her, but she needed to hear what he’d said for her own safety. And suddenly, her safety meant a lot to him. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t want you hurt, that’s all.”

Kristin seemed to be considering his warning. “I’ll try to do better. And you’re right. When I first started at the university, I attended a seminar on campus safety. I think they did mention scarves and long ponytails being things that an attacker could grab. I’m sorry. I just didn’t figure I would ever be a target for someone.”

“Which means we need to figure out why, not to mention how you’ve become a target.” He threw her a sidelong glance.

“Of course.” She looked uncomfortable as she peeled off the scarf, pausing a moment as if she wanted to say more. “So, are we going to take your samples to the lab?”

“Yes. I want to catch them before they close for lunch.” He started his car, and within minutes, they had returned to the center of Westbrook. He knew the lab, having used it a few times since he moved here. And maybe with Kristin’s connections, they’d get some answers quickly.

Because he had a nagging feeling that they’d need those answers soon.

As they entered the lab, Maggie, Kristin’s chem partner approached with a broad smile and Kristin found herself answering with her own smile. Zane briefly told Maggie what he needed to have done. She nodded as he passed her the sample he’d taken from his car.

Maggie studied the smear Zane handed her. “I don’t think you’ll get any fingerprints, but we’ll see what this stuff is. I can test it for human DNA, too, but it’ll have to go out to the lab in Helena for a full analysis. That could take three weeks or more, depending on how much you’re willing to pay.” She brightened. “In the meantime, we should have the results on what this is in a couple of days.”

“That’s fine.” Once the paperwork was completed, Zane turned toward the door.

Immediately, Maggie flashed a brilliant smile and a thumbs-up for approval. Kristin felt herself blanch. Was Maggie thinking that Zane was a boyfriend and she was merely following him around today for lack of anything better to do?

Zane turned back and peered at Maggie, who dropped the smile like the cheeky girl she was. With a frown, he said goodbye and held the door for Kristin.

Outside, Kristin trotted down the short flight of stone steps toward the parking lot, glad to be away from the embarrassing situation in the lab. Zane, a boyfriend? Sure, he was handsome, with some kind of indefinable strength, but still…

But still what? Suddenly, she felt as if she had no argument against Zane. Quite the opposite, really.

Kristin felt herself redden further. The brick buildings around them had cut the wind considerably, and she was glad she didn’t have to smooth her hair constantly in order to hide her scar. She didn’t need to add that to her embarrassment.

At the bottom step, her scalp near her scar tingling, Kristin stopped, remembering words from the note her birth mother had written Jackson.

Kristin almost died because of the path I’ve needed to take.

Years ago, her adoptive parents had told her that the scar was something she’d been born with. And to forget about it.

Like a dutiful daughter, she’d dropped the questions. She had her answer, now, from Jackson, and it was as shocking as finding out she’d been adopted out of state, not born here as her other birth certificate claimed.

She really had come close to dying and today the truth was sinking in even more deeply.

But it being a frightful souvenir and not a birth defect she’d always tried to hide still didn’t make her want it exposed, and certainly not to Zane. He was altogether too perceptive and with all that had happened, she felt exposed enough.

Zane took her arm and hurried her to his car. “That’s all we can do for now.”

She set aside her turbulent thoughts. “Does this mean you’ll take my case?” Honestly, she was beginning to hate that mantra, but couldn’t help ask again.

He paused. “I’ve been considering taking the summer off, but—” A short ring rippled through the air. Zane pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. “Just a second. It’s a text from a friend.”

Stepping away from her, he stared at the small screen. His mouth fell open and his shoulders drooped. As she watched, the air around them felt as if it dropped in temperature.

Bad news.

Punching out numbers, Zane stepped farther from Kristen. She folded her arms against the sudden chill, staring at his back as he listened intently to the person on the other end. When he finally hung up, he turned. His jaw looked tight enough to snap.

Oh, yes, something was definitely wrong. She hurried over to him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Let’s go. I’d like to talk to the waiter at the café again.”

She struggled to keep up with his long stride. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Is it about me?”

“No, it’s not about you at all.” He unlocked his car and held the door open for her. “Just get in.”

Biting her lip, she obeyed. When Zane sat down behind the wheel, she touched his arm. “If it’s not about me, then, is there anything I can do?”

“No. Just a lead in another case I’d been following. It’s a dead end, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. Is it about your brother? Maybe I can help you. I’ve lived here all my life. Well, almost all my life, so I know a lot of people. My father had a thriving law practice here, and Mom knew everyone.”

His eyes widened. Though the bad news had marred the blue of his eyes like soft cirrus clouds wash out a clear sky, she could see shock easily in them. “You’re not going to dig into your father’s private files, are you?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no! His files went to his law partner. I’d never do that! I was just thinking if you were looking for someone, maybe I could help. Do you think he was a local?”

“I’d been hoping he was local. But I was wrong.”

“Who? I might know the name.”

Zane’s mouth thinned. “I only know his last name is Kendall.” He spelled it.

She sat back in the seat and shook her head. “Kendall. Hmm. I’m not sure. How old is he?”

“Two years younger than me.”

She stopped in mid-thought. His brother. Zane had moved here to find him, and now that one lead has dissolved. What was next for him? Would he move on?

She watched Zane’s clean profile, his straight nose and strong chin. His dark hair fell into his eyes slightly, and his brooding good looks and casual clothes seemed to fit well on the campus around them. The hurt in his expression, however, did not.

Suddenly, she didn’t want him to move out of the area to continue his search somewhere else. But she had to ask, “What’s next in your search?”

He slid his gaze sideways across the car’s front seats to her. “I don’t know. That guy on the phone was following my strongest lead, but it didn’t pan out.”

Her heart swelled in sympathy. They were both searching. In a way, she’d found a kindred spirit. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’ve built a good business here, and searching for my brother is something I do when I have the time. I have even less information on him than you have on your mother so I always knew I may never find him.”

“So you’re back to square one now?”

“I have one much weaker lead out there, but am not expecting anything to come of it.”

He watched her, as if, she wondered, he was also looking for understanding. Her heart lurched. He was hurting, too. He was struggling to find a connection with his past. And like her, he may never find his family.

“Let’s get some lunch. My treat,” she suggested to break the melancholy settling over them. “There’s a new restaurant downtown that has great Mexican food. If you like, you can tell me what you know about your brother. I’m no expert, but maybe you just need a fresh eye?”

He frowned at her and she tried a small, hopeful smile. She didn’t feel like smiling, and yet, sticking with Zane brought a strange measure of comfort that made smiling that much easier. Besides, after that push into traffic, she didn’t feel like being alone.

“Why don’t we talk about you instead, Kristin?” he answered. “My search for my brother can wait, but yours can’t. No one wants to kill me for it, but you are definitely in danger because of your search.”

“Do you really think it’s related to my mother?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences, and they’re piling up here. Your mother is in hiding, and right after you attend a related trial, you’re in danger, as well?”

“I don’t know anything, so there’s no reason to kill me.”

“I’m not saying you do know anything, but someone could be mistaking you for your mother. Do you look like her?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen one photo of her and I don’t have it. It’s hard to see a resemblance to yourself, I think.”

Of course, she knew of another photo on its way to her. Zane may be able to confirm a resemblance.

Zane glanced around the parking lot, before zeroing in on her. “You want me to take on your case, but it’s obvious that you’re holding some things back. And the look on your face after you received that phone call this morning told me you didn’t know what to do. Were you warned about me?”

“No! Well, not exactly.” Boy, he was good. He was able to read her like a book. Should she tell him anything? Jackson had warned her of a leak. Anyone, including Zane, could use what they’d learn from her to find her mother, or inform the Mob, she wagered. How could she know for sure that he wouldn’t tell the Martino family?

But what could Zane learn from her? She didn’t have anything but a name, an old address from a foster home her mother had lived in, where that other photo had been taken, and very little else. She doubted her mother would use her real name and she certainly wouldn’t contact her old foster home again. Kristin only wanted the photo because it was of her mother and had been offered to her.

Zane tilted his head. “I can help you find your mother. So why won’t you tell me anything?”

If she found her mother, she reasoned to herself, she could warn her about the Martinos, about what Jackson had said. They could hide together, taking that time to get to know each other again. It would be so wonderful, and everything she’d dreamed of since her friend Jake had opened her father’s safe and she’d found the adoption papers.

She swallowed. “I’ve been told to be very careful.”

“Because of the Martino family? Why did you go to the trial then?”

“I had to see the man whose father had caused my mother to hide. But no one recognized me. I lightened my hair, and wore tinted glasses. And due to the security, those allowed into the courtroom were escorted in and out through a side door, and protected from the public.”

“But afterward, you came straight back here?”

“No.” She shook her head, understanding what he meant. “Jackson McGraw advised against that. After the trial, I wanted to thank one of the witnesses for the prosecution. He took me to the FBI building in the city. I talked to her there.”

“Who was she?”

“Olivia Jarrod. She was the star witness in that trial.”

“What did she say?”

“To me? Not much. I just thanked her for doing her best to get rid of the Martino family. Then I told her that I’d been separated from my mother for about twenty-one years and she said she hoped I would find my mother someday. The conversation didn’t last long. She didn’t want to stick around, and I didn’t, either.”

“So then you came straight home?”

She shook her head. “Jackson and I decided that I should take a flight to Maine to spend some time with a college friend. So I did. We climbed Mount Katahdin. Then we toured the East Coast for a week. After that, I returned here.”

Her tone changed as she drilled a stare into him. They were sitting in his car. Around them, the campus had gone quiet. “Please, Zane, I can’t tell you much, because I don’t know much.”

Zane’s look darkened, as if he disagreed with her. But thankfully, he said nothing. She continued, faster than before. “But I need to find my mother. Let’s have some lunch. We’ll talk there.”

She hadn’t really expected Zane to agree, but he did, asking for the name of the restaurant. A swell of accomplishment filled her. He was willing to talk to her, perhaps to engender trust, or perhaps because he needed to talk, maybe about his own fruitless search. She didn’t care about the reason. Suddenly, being with him warmed her, gave her a sense of connection.

At the restaurant, they found a booth in the back and ordered the daily special of quesadillas. After scribbling out their order, the waitress plunked down a large bowl of nacho chips and salsa. Kristin dug in. Catching Zane’s eye, she shrugged. “I’m hungry. And when I’m stressed, I eat. I’m not one to starve myself, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s normal.” He grimaced. “You may be a bit naïve, but at least you’re not the thin, high-strung sort.”

She lifted her eyebrows, wondering who was like that in his life that brought such a derisive comment. “There’s a compliment in there, I’m sure. I just can’t see it right now.”

She picked up another chip and munched on it. At least he was talking. The stress of the call he’d made seemed to be wearing him down, loosening the cool grit that held him tightly together.

“It is a compliment. And you’re honest about it.” He tightened his jaw. “Believe me, I appreciate honesty.”

Why shouldn’t he? She stemmed her curiosity by changing the subject. “My church loves to eat. We’ll use any excuse for a potluck lunch. No thin, high-strung ladies there.” She pointed a corn chip at him. “You should come. There’ll be snacks after the service this week.”

Her offer slipped out automatically. She’d asked many of her college friends to church. Some had come, most had declined. Sleeping in on Sundays was too important to them.

He looked away, his jaw tight. “Once upon a time, I believed in God and all that. But the price was too high. You have to be perfect, and that’s not me. In fact, if I have to be as good as my father thought he was, I’d rather not be a Christian at all.”

She stopped chewing. The bitterness in his words bounced around their booth. She’d never heard such cold condemnation. What would her parents say to this?

Suddenly, the ache of grief weighed down her heart. Her parents would have known the right answer. They were wonderfully compassionate. They’d taken her in twenty-one years ago, finding themselves with a small child after many years alone. It must have been hard for them to keep up with a busy little toddler.

But enough of that. What could she say to Zane? He seemed so disappointed with God. How could she take that away?

She couldn’t. Nor was it any of her business, no matter how sad it made her feel. With a sip of water, she swallowed the corn chip and hastened to change the subject. “You said you have a brother. Where are your parents?”

“Dead. Both my birth parents and my adoptive ones. I was adopted shortly after I was born,” he told her tersely.

“So what clues led you here?”

“While I was living in upstate New York, I did a data search for the last name Kendall.” He spelled the name. “My adoptive mother only ever told me the last name and only after a good deal of pressure. She was afraid of my adoptive father.”

His jaw had tightened again, she noticed.

As if catching her curiosity, he cleared his throat and took a chip. “Anyway, I got a break once with some online photos from Westbrook University. So I decided to move here and set up my business.”

He dipped a chip into the salsa. “The lead today turned out to be no good.”

Their meals arrived and when the server left them, Kristin stared at her food.

She snapped her attention back him, remembering why the name sounded familiar. “What did this Kendall guy study?”

“Art, specializing in oils, I’m told. I don’t even know if he is my brother. He’s already left the area.”

Kristin set down her glass of water. “There’s a painting in one of the lecture rooms that’s signed ‘Bobby Kendall’ with that same spelling. It could be his. It’s of Lindbergh Lake, about eighty miles from here. It’s this multiseasonal three-sectioned painting, so the artist would have needed to go there frequently to plan his work. Maybe he’s there now.”

“I’ve checked everywhere.”

“But there’s the Bob Marshall Wilderness Area nearby. People spend months in The Bob all alone.”

“I’ll consider it after we’ve settled your case. Do you think your lecturer would talk about the artist?”

“I’m sure he would. He bored me silly for a whole semester about other artists and they’re dead.”

Abruptly, Zane laughed. “Ouch! That’s awfully critical, isn’t it?”

“You’re right.” She smiled back.

She liked being around Zane.

His gaze drifted over her shoulder toward the front entrance. Suddenly, he stiffened. “Kristin, listen to me carefully,” he whispered. “Take your purse and walk toward the washroom, but don’t go in. Do it now!”

She opened her mouth, but his icy glare froze any questions. Lifting her purse, she slid out of the booth.

“Hurry, but don’t run,” he said quietly, taking a fake sip of water. “And don’t look around.”

A minute later, she found herself down the dim hall near the washrooms, her heart pounding. From the front of the restaurant, the sound of a loud crash bounced down to her.

She jumped. What was going on?

Suddenly, a dark blur raced toward her and propelled her into the restaurant’s busy kitchen. Inside the steamy room, a young cook’s eyes widened in shock.

Then someone slapped a hand over her mouth.

FOUR

“Hey!”

Kristin heard the young cook’s sharp word, but immediately grabbed the hand that covered her mouth. Her nails, though short, dug into the hard muscle and dark hair. At the same time, the cook lunged for something in front of her.

Her assailant behind her leaned forward. “It’s me, Zane! Stay still. Our friend here is trying to save both us and his soup.”

She froze immediately, but did not turn. His grip on her was tight, his whole weight shifting them both away from the stove that stood so close to the door.

Finally, she looked down. The cook was busy steadying a large pot of steaming soup. Her flailing could have tipped it over onto her and Zane.

She blew out a sigh. Once the soup was safe on another burner, Zane released her.

She spun around. “What was that for? You could have made it a whole lot worse for both of us! Why not just tell me to come in here?”

“Sorry. I didn’t see the soup, either, until it was nearly too late.” He was steering her through the hot, fragrant kitchen, around the startled cook and his pot of soup. As they passed him, Zane shoved a pair of ten-dollar bills into the man’s hand. “For our meal. Table eight. Thank you.”

His left hand wrapped firmly around her elbow, his right hand flipping out his cell phone, he moved them swiftly through to the back door. “I needed to get you out of the hallway quickly and I didn’t want us trapped in the washrooms,” he continued. “Let’s go, Kristin, I’ll explain later.”

They hurried outside. Zane threw a fast glance around them. Then, taking her arm, he led her around the corner of the restaurant.

Curious, Kristin leaned forward to peer back around the corner. The back door to the restaurant’s kitchen opened, and out walked the cook. He scanned the back alley, then returned inside. A heavyset man with a swarthy face and dark scowl stepped out behind him.

Zane pulled her back. “That man walked in, sat at one of the front tables and watched you. As soon as we started to eat, he called someone. A minute later, another man came in, sat at another table. Both then got up and began to walk our way.”

“Did you recognize them? Do you know them?”

“No, but I know they weren’t there for the quesadillas. I saw the first one in front of the café this morning.”

She gasped. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I studied the crowd after you said you’d been pushed. Let’s face it, if he was in that restaurant just to have a bite to eat, he wouldn’t have followed us out the kitchen door, right?”

She bit her lip. Had he been the man who’d pushed her in front of the truck? “What else did he do?”

“When he reached into his jacket, I saw a gun. As soon as you headed down that hall, I pulled a chair toward our booth, as if we were expecting company. The waitress ran into it, and spilled a drink. That pretty much delayed him from reaching us. That’s when I followed you. You had your back to me and I needed you out of there immediately. I’m sorry if I was a bit rough. You struggled and were going to knock that hot soup all over yourself.”

“You scared the daylights out of me.” She sighed and leaned against the brick wall. “Are we going to call the police?”

“Just because we’re suspicious doesn’t mean they’ll be. They think you imagined being pushed.”

“I didn’t imagine it.”

After punching in some numbers, Zane brought his cell phone up to his ear. “This is Zane Black. I’m calling to let you know that there will be someone staying in my office for the next few days.” He covered his phone. “This is my building’s security service.”

Irritated, Kristin listened to his call. What was he doing? Did he think she’d just go where he told her? As soon as his cell phone clicked shut, she spoke. “You want me to stay in your office?”

“I’m not going to take any chances here.”

Someone around the corner of the building knocked over a garbage can, then swore loudly. Kristin jumped, and in the same moment, Zane dragged her down the alley. When they reached the main road, he hurried her into the next business, a sporting goods shop.

Standing behind a tall rack of windbreakers, she asked, “How will going to your office do any good?”

She remembered what Jackson’s words had been that last night he saw her mother. Someone had learned the safe house’s location. As a result, Eloise had to abandon her in order to keep her safe. How was Zane’s office going to do what a federal safe house couldn’t do?

“It’s got excellent security. And before you say you don’t need security, think. You attended the Martino trial because it was related to why your mother is in hiding. An FBI agent wants you to stop looking for her, probably because it’s too dangerous for both of you. You need to be more than a little careful.”

She remembered Jackson’s words. The Martino family wanted to honor the old dying don. There was no way they could have learned where she lived. “But Jackson said that traveling around for a while would throw off any person who tried to follow me. And the security inside that courtroom was tight because the judge didn’t want it turned into a sideshow. The spectators would have had to register before going in.”

“Maybe someone has that list. And when he called, did Jackson warn you something might happen to you?”

“Yes. How did you know that?” she asked softly.

“I guessed it, based on all you’ve said, but now that you’ve told me, I can see I’m right.” He pulled a face and glanced out the window again. “It’s got something to do with your mother and Martino.”

It was as if he could read her mind. Was she that transparent? “What else do you know?”

“I don’t know enough about the trial, but I will by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, you need to stay somewhere safe, like my office. No arguments, either, okay? This is your life here, and if you die, you’ll never find your mother.”

Again, Zane looked out the front window of the store, toward the restaurant. She hated the way he’d manipulated her need to find her mother. And yet, he was so right. She didn’t want to die without ever finding her mother. Or worse, put her mother, the woman who’d done everything in her power to save her life, back into danger.

Her stomach growled. “Yeah, I know,” she muttered to it. “Stress makes you hungry.” She’d missed most of their lunch and it was showing.

Trying to ignore the pangs, she glanced outside herself at the main street in Westbrook. Zane’s car was in a parking lot at the other side of the restaurant. To reach it they’d have to walk past the place.

Zane fished out his car keys. “Stay here. I’ll get the car. I’d call a taxi, but I’ve been here two years—”

“And you’ve only ever seen one. I know. We have only one taxicab in this town. Everything is walking distance.” She glanced at the approaching clerk before watching Zane leave.

Kristin hovered in the back of the store, declining the offer of assistance from the clerk. Within a few minutes, Zane reappeared and she quickly exited the store.

“I’m not going to your office, Zane,” she said firmly.

“My office has everything you need.”

“It’s not that. I’m not fussy. It’s just that you have a business to run, and I don’t think those people who have hired you would appreciate a strange woman living in your office, even if all their personal information were secure. Why don’t I go to a hotel in Kalispell?”

He considered her suggestion. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll call and make the reservations.” When he pointed to where his car was, he handed her his keys. “Go to the Broadview Hotel. Do you know it?”

She nodded. “But I need some things before I can go.”

“No. Don’t go home. I’ll see to it that they provide whatever you need, a light lunch and some personal stuff. The hotel is excellent at security, too, so use the valet service at the front entrance. Don’t stop along the way, either.”

Lifting her eyebrows, she took the keys. “Am I allowed to watch TV?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Kristin. This is for your own good. I’d rather err on the side of caution until I know all the facts here. Yes, it’s probably better that you stay in Kalispell. I’ve got a lot of reading to do on the Martino family and I may not be able to do it all at home.”

She hadn’t expected Zane to agree to the hotel, and now that it was done, she found herself not wanting to give up her search for her mother. Not even for a day.

She looked at the keys he’d given her. “What about leaving you here without a car?”

“I have another one. I’ll stop by the hotel tomorrow.” As if on an impulse, he squeezed her hand. His fingers felt warm and comforting and she found herself wanting to cling to them. “I’m sorry for all that’s happening to you, Kristin, but you need to take care of your own safety right now, and not to worry about anyone else.” His voice dropped. “That includes your mother.”

She looked up at him, seeing him strong and lean and in control, knowing the right thing to do. In that moment, she didn’t want to leave.

Foolish notion, she told herself. Zane didn’t need her breathing down his neck.

And yet, was she really doing the right thing here, trusting Zane?

Yes, he was trustworthy; she knew that because she’d checked his credentials before calling him.

“Go. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.” With a gentle shove, he directed her toward his car. She looked up at his face, but he was already scanning the area. She had no choice but to leave.

Zane didn’t watch her leave. He watched everyone else, instead. But no one seemed interested in a woman trotting out to a run-of-the-mill car. Within the minute, Kristin had slipped from the parking space and driven away. He followed her taillights with his eyes until she turned and headed toward the highway, avoiding the center of Westbrook.

On his walk to retrieve his other car, he spotted the two men arguing outside the restaurant. He’d also seen the gun the bigger man carried. They continued to argue as they climbed into a car. He memorized the Illinois plate number.

Someone was after her, all right. And that someone was getting desperate.