Risky Alliance Read online

  Sitting up now, Abby clutched the delicate curves of the phone receiver with both hands. “This has never happened before, Tim. It's scaring me, I can tell you that.” Jacob's home was only about six city blocks away. Lots of things happened to Jacob, but having his house under attack was a new one. His five acres, just like her twenty, had a six-foot-high chain-linked fence and electronic gate, and when he left home he always locked the gate by remote.

  “I want you to get a hold of Jacob and have him call me at home around five tonight our time. His house isn't the only thing that happened this morning. Someone torched the Delaney's house. We've had a patrol car keeping an eye on the place so they got it before it did much damage. Dottie and the kids didn't see it ‘cause they're staying with her mother, but she's in a state of hysteria."

  Abby laid a hand against her chest. Calm down, she told herself. You have things to do. She glanced at the time, knowing it was two hours later in Iowa. “I'll call him, Tim. Then I'll go over and see what I can do to help Dottie and her family.”

  “I was hoping you'd say that, Abby. Dottie's mother sounded like she's about to snap herself. I know they could use a friend there to hold them together."

  She swung her feet over the side of the bed, and the sudden action knocked Spike over the foot of the bed, his front paws swiping for a hold and missing. “Do you think any of this has a connection to what happened in Iowa?"

  “It wouldn't do any good to speculate, sweetheart. Jacob should have a handle on what happened back there by now. That's one of the reasons I want to talk to him. He might have some ideas I haven't thought of, so it won't help to worry until we've talked about this."

  Right, she thought as she watched Spike's full, gray tail twitch with insult as he swaggered from the room—Don't worry. Tim didn't seem to realize his words reeked with double standard. Whether he knew it or not, Police Lieutenant Tim Benson sounded very upset, indeed. “I'll try not to, Tim. But it isn't going to work.” At least not until she went out to Jacob's ranch in the mountains and brought in his German Shepherds to watch the house. Should the culprit decide to come back a third time, the dogs would give out some painful regrets.

  First, though, she had to go and see Dottie. The poor girl needed all the support she could get.

  * * * *

  At exactly six o'clock the stereo system in Kimba's bedroom switched on. Soft-rock music seemed to caress the air as she stretched against the white silk sheets. She fought the desire to burrow into her pillow and sleep for another hour. Her extended arm found only emptiness on Keats’ side of the bed.

  She knew that Keats would already be sitting in the dining room drinking coffee, and probably eating a bagel. In some things, he seemed completely predictable.

  The music ended and the announcer's voice proceeded with the news. He talked about an early morning fire in Sunnyville. She was reaching to turn it off when he gave the address; now, he had Kimba's full attention.

  “Luckily,” he went on, “a fast acting patrol unit making a routine round of the neighborhood spotted the fire on the outer wall of the garage. None of the Delaney family were at home when the fire broke out.”

  Kimba sat up, shoving her legs over the side of the bed. Why, she wondered, irritated, would her guys set fire to the Delaney's? Their job was to take care of Campbell's office and find the damned photocopies. She reached for her cell phone. She couldn't afford for Keats to overhear that there was another mistake. Her ears were still ringing from his screaming at her after she told him that Clinton managed to get himself stuck in Iowa. She'd put off telling him that Clint had to make a second trip looking for Campbell's wife.

  She dialed a number. “Okay,” she said without a greeting, “what the hell have you guys been doing?"

  “No go,” the male voice slurred. “Hell, baby, we spent the past three hours going through the junk we took from the house. Ain't no photocopies of nothing about house sales or your office in the whole mess.” He belched in her ear. “So, what next?"

  “Why did you set a fire at the Delaney house?” she asked, clenching her teeth. “Why the hell are you drunk at six a.m.?"

  “We didn't set no fire,” he said gruffly. “And, neither of us is drunk. It's been a damned long night."

  “You'd better be telling the truth, slug.” The last thing she wanted was for more police attention focused on the Delaneys. When a property owner got too much public attention, they usually dropped the prospective takeover and moved on to easier marks.

  “Oh, baby, is that any way to talk to me after all I've done for you?"

  She laughed without humor. “You're well paid. I'll talk to you later.” Kimba pushed End and tossed the phone on her pillow. Maybe they'd get lucky and the fire started from faulty wiring. It wasn't going to help their extra-curricular business if the police suddenly decided Delaney didn't commit suicide. A fire on the property two days after the funeral would certainly grab her attention.

  The announcer had said the garage was all that was damaged. Too bad, she decided, rethinking the situation, it would have been better if the whole damned place had burned down. Especially if it renewed any police interest in Delaney's den. Maybe she slipped up not having the guys look for any files in Delaney's cabinets. She'd been in that room. Had she touched anything left behind? No—no, she didn't think so.

  She combed her fingers through her hair. What was she worrying about anyway? They'd already made the decision to stop trying to take any of the Delaney property. She'd doctored the computers so a fault document would show up at the next audit and restore the property to Mrs. Delaney. Delaney's stuff should merely validate the error and nothing more. She would just double-check everything when she got to the office.

  Keats had prepared some of the paperwork on that property, but she'd already found and destroyed all copies. Except, perhaps, that Campbell could have one. If he did, and she didn't get it from him, Keats would kill her.

  He'd meant it when he said he didn't allow anything to go wrong with the businesses he manipulated as a lawyer. There had been people in the past who had gotten in his way. He'd plowed them under as if they'd been dried-up corn stalks.

  Keats had given her almost everything she'd ever wanted, and that should make her feel safe, protected. But it didn't. The few times she'd seen him angry had taught her to be very careful; had also taught her to wonder if Keats could ever be truly under any one's influence.

  Getting the photocopies from Campbell would clear Keats of any involvement and save her ass from his retribution. The thought made her feel fear and she hated it, hated him. The day would come when she would change it all. Change it so he was the weaker one, the one to shiver with fear.

  She rose from the bed and headed for the shower. She would double-check everything just to make sure. They would get those papers from J.T. Campbell—or else.

  * * * *

  It was nearly seven-thirty when Sue entered the apartment the next morning. She found Jacob saying good-bye to his mother on the cordless phone and thumbing through the phone book, and his slightly shaggy brows were coming together in a frown.

  “All right,” she said, dumping her purse on the glowing surface of the dining room table. “What's making you look as if you're ready for war? If it's because I'm late, I'm sorry—” She stopped because his left eyebrow had risen, which usually meant serious things were happening and war might turn out to be a mild thought.

  He cleared his throat. “While someone's been causing problems here, others are continuing to take our house apart in California. Not only that, last night someone tried to make a fireplace out of the Delaney's place.”

  He poked his finger at the phone book. “Dealing with the somebody here, I've narrowed it down to five possible places to buy winter gear. However, I can't check them out until after ten because they aren't open.” When he got with Tim this evening, he wanted to have several unanswered questions clear in his mind to discuss with him. He hoped a visit with Karen would answer mos
t of the easy ones. If there was a connection between the destruction in California and here, he had the intense feeling he'd better find it fast, before anyone else got hurt.

  Jacob reached over and pulled out a chair for her. His words would be like dropping a bomb, and he would rather avoid it, but there just wasn't any time to waste. And the one thing they really needed was time. “You'd better sit down for the rest of this discussion.” He gestured toward the toast and coffee on the table. “Maybe you should eat something?” She had always seemed more relaxed with a full stomach. He really needed her cheerful before telling her his ideas. He really needed her calm. But he knew it wasn't going to happen. It had taken him most of the night to figure out what was different about his Babe. He had never, not once since the day he met her, seen her lose her temper. Something had happened to change that. What happened to Karen might have caused it, since he'd noticed the new reaction after he'd chased the man out the window. If he was imagining it, he would know for certain in a few moments.

  After sitting down, Sue poured herself a cup of coffee. “I'm not hungry, J.T.” She didn't care for the way he was looking at her. Then what he said hit home, and her tummy did a flip. “Our house is trashed and the Delaney's burned down...."

  Jacob shook his head. “Not burned down, it was caught and put out shortly after it started. But that's really beside the point, someone wanted it burned to the ground. It could be there's incriminating evidence somewhere in that house. Tim and I were about to go through it when I got the call from Kathleen."

  “I said I was sorry that she dragged you away with a false alarm—"

  “Babe,” Jacob interrupted, “it wasn't a false alarm and you know it. What nearly happened last night had to have told you that.” Her words, our house, furnished him with the grit for igniting his bomb.

  She'd seen that look in his eyes before, but hoped she was wrong. “Okay,” she conceded, “and you're leading up to something I don't want to hear. Right?"

  “Tomorrow, you and the kids have to go to California with me.” He couldn't help holding his breath, and just managed to control the urge to cover his ears. Her mouth went from a cute little bow to a grim frown faster than he could blink. The deep red creeping up her slender neck seemed an amazing sight to him. The explosion he predicted took a mere second.

  “Tomorrow!” She wasn't going anywhere, let alone tomorrow. If all this time spent waiting for the nightmare vision of him lying in a pool of blood to fade away was long enough, the thought of returning wouldn't be causing this panic. She needed more time.

  “I can't be in two places at once. My entire family appears to be in danger, and I can't protect all of you if we aren't in the same place.” He stood up and paced between the table and the bar that separated dining room and kitchen. “Abby could be next on their list. I'm sure Tim will keep an eye on her until I can get back. But, he is only one man.” At least she hadn't said never. He didn't want to push this, but it seemed the only way.

  Sue hadn't thought about Abby being in trouble. “We'll just have to look out for ourselves here."

  The doubt he heard in her voice spurred him on. “Like you did last night? Come on, Babe, you can't protect Michael and Andee and your parents. At least in California we have a better chance to put a stop to all this. I'm certain whoever's warning me off is doing it from California.” He stopped in front of her. “Can't tell you why, but my gut tells me it has something to do with Robert and Dottie.” He hoped to have a better argument by the end of the day—after talking to the detective here—after Tim told him if the fire at Delaney's was arson or not.

  Sue stood, too, facing him belligerently. “You mean it has to do with your snooping and spying and prying."

  He wouldn't think of denying it. “At times I step on people's toes while getting to the truth.” He shrugged. “You've always known that it goes with the career.” And he had been re-thinking his career for a long time. There had to be a compromise his Babe could accept; nevertheless, it would take communication; they would have to find it together. He'd given her time. He was finished being passive. The new intense emotion she was displaying might just be the key to that communication.

  “Yes", she said, adding to herself, your risky career. However she knew the problem wasn't his career, wasn't within Jacob, it was within herself. She believed herself healed. But, what if she wasn't? That was the problem—the damned doubt—the risk. She didn't trust herself. How could she? When he'd lay on the floor bleeding, she had intended to help him—then paralysis had struck like a bolt of lightning out of nowhere. She couldn't seem to forgive herself for that major shutdown. “I have to think—I can't talk about this anymore right now. Are you ready to go visit Karen?” She hesitated. “If we hurry, we could catch Mass at the hospital chapel."

  Jacob reached over and closed the phone book. “Then what are we waiting for?” He could tell she was thinking about what he'd told her. It was the plus he wanted.

  * * * *

  Sue watched Jacob purchase a dozen yellow roses from the gift shop, then they caught the elevator. He borrowed her pen and wrote: To a terrific Lady, signed his name, and handed back her pen. Sue looked at him.

  Jacob shrugged. “Buy your own roses,” he said, grinning. He sobered. “Not many people would take a beating for a friend—and still talk to that friend. I want her to know I care about what's happened—really care."

  Though visitor's hours weren't until afternoon, Sister Anne met them on the third floor and escorted them to Karen's room. Sue wanted to give Jacob some moments alone with Karen, so she lingered near the door with Sister. “Thank you, Sister,” Sue whispered as they watched Jacob sit down in a chair beside Karen's bed on the other side of the room. “Jacob really needed to talk to Karen, otherwise he won't know if there's anything he can do about what's happened.” Sue knew that Karen wasn't fond of being inside a hospital for any reason, and hoped she wouldn't have to stay long.

  Sister patted Sue's hand and turned toward the door. “Just don't stay very long. If she gets enough rest today, the doctor will let her go home tomorrow.” She stopped in the doorway long enough to grin and say quietly, “Dennis wants her to do her recovering at the farm, and Karen has agreed.”

  Knowing this was a turn-of-event that could bring joy to her friend, Sue couldn't help smiling as she crossed the room and pulled a chair up beside Jacob. There were several similarities in their problems. Karen had wanted to go home, but insisted that the idea was too precarious. Karen worried that if she blew it, she couldn't handle it if she lost him altogether. Eventually she intended to get home—Karen had said—she needed time.

  Except for the dread of forever alienating the ones they loved, that was where the similarities ended. Violence, or physical danger to Dennis and the children hadn't been a factor in their domestic problems. Karen hadn't copped-out on her family in any life-threatening situation. She sighed. Karen might not have copped-out at all. Though they had discussed their fears together, they hadn't been able to talk about the intimate reasons for their predicaments.

  “Think hard, Karen,” Jacob requested quietly, gently, while holding her uninjured hand. “He came from behind you and you never saw him because he covered your head with a sheet or something, but did you touch him?"

  Karen's visible eye closed. “He hit me, yelling what I told you. I grabbed behind me and caught his shirt—no—it wasn't a shirt.” Her fingers moved together as she remembered. “It felt silky."

  “Like a windbreaker?"

  She opened her eye. “Yes, that's it. It was too heavy to be a shirt, but too light for a coat. I caught a glimpse of black-leather sneakers from under the edge of the sheet."

  Sue sat back in her chair, thinking about the guy Jacob had chased. “It's really been way too hot even for a windbreaker."

  “Not if you're from somewhere else and think it could be cold here,” Jacob said rising to his feet. Or, he thought, if you're from windbreaker country—like California. “You rest, Ka
ren. We've several errands to run, but we'll call you this evening.” The last thing he wanted to do was cause Karen any added pain or to tire her.

  When Sue approached to say her good-byes, Karen clutched her hand weakly. “J.T. says he wants you to go with him tomorrow, Sue,” she whispered. “Don't be a fool, go with him."

  She sucked in her breath and let it out slowly. The man knew exactly how to get a champion for his cause. She wished it was all that easy. “I'll let you know what I decide. Like J.T. said, get some rest. If I can't get back here later, I'll call and we can talk about it."

  Karen lifted her good hand. “J.T., I just remembered something else. I think he had some sort of mask over his face, because I tried to reach up and scratch him. It felt like wool.” She closed her eye and sighed. “Course, I couldn't really tell if I was even near his head."

  Jacob stood waiting by the door. “Good girl. If anything else comes to mind, you can tell me this evening.” Black-leather sneakers didn't come cheap. The man he chased last night had been wearing dark shoes. Another image hovered near the surface in Jacob's mind; however, he couldn't quite reach it.

  “I need to spend at least twenty minutes at the office picking up papers for Dad,” Sue explained as they entered the elevator. “He hopes to finalize a real estate deal in the morning."

  “There'll be people in the office?” He wanted her to stay visible when they weren't together. A stranger to the area would have trouble following Sue around, but he preferred safe to sorry.

  Sue didn't hesitate. “Three, and they'll want to leave as soon as I've put the stuff together."

  After they walked off the elevator, Jacob guided her to the chairs in the vast lobby. “Okay,” he said, satisfied that she wouldn't be in the building alone. “Let's stop a minute. I need to think. We have a lot of things to cover today, and still be out of here tomorrow."

  Refusing to take the bait, Sue ignored his last remark as she sat down beside him. This wasn't the time or the place for the discussion. She studied his serious features, waiting for the list of places he wanted to go.