Dangerous Curves (23 page)

S
he was
afraid to close her eyes. Dominique lay in the safe circle of Kevin's arms, afraid to move in case she woke him. But she couldn't close her eyes because when she did she saw the blood, her mother's neck wound. And in her thoughts her mother's words kept coming back to her.

Fortunately, they hadn't frightened Kevin. His expression didn't change when she told him about her father's second business: designing custom cars for an underground clientele. She hadn't been able to give him specifics, but she had been able to give him a name and contact her mother had provided. She'd told Dominique about code names for designs such as Trini-bound and African Sunshine, but wouldn't tell her what they meant.

Her mother had also told her about Berton. He was one of the key designers and expected to make it to VP within the organization. He'd hoped that by sleeping with her mother, while spying on her father, that he'd get there faster by playing her parents off each other.

“He's a greedy little man with big ideas, perfect for a man like your father,” her mother had told her.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Dominique had asked her, still wanting to leave. She watched shoppers come and go while she felt her world spinning out of control.

“Because I lost control of him and he might be dangerous. Men always become that way when they get disappointed. I knew it was bound to happen when he stopped reporting to me what your father's been up to. But I overheard something you might find interesting.”

“What?”

“Your father lied.”

Dominique watched a little girl drop her candy bar on the ground then burst into tears when her mother picked it up and threw it away. “That's nothing new.”

“About Kevin.”

She felt her body go cold.

“What did he tell you about the accident?” her mother asked.

“Just tell me what you know.”

“I'm saying this to protect you because…because he's no good for you.”

“What do you know,” Dominique repeated more deliberately.

“There was no mistake. Kevin and the woman he was with didn't get into the wrong car. They were chosen on purpose.”

“Why?”

“Because Kevin knows something. He just hasn't told you.”

“He doesn't know anything! His memory is gone. I know.”

“Men lie.”

“He hasn't lied to me.”

“You want to believe that, but—”

Dominique stood. “I know it,” she said, then left. If she hadn't left her, if she'd stayed, would her mother still have been attacked? If she'd returned home with her as she'd planned would her mother be okay? Or would they both have been attacked? She couldn't think of that now. She remembered her phone call to Kevin. Her heart breaking as she waited for him to pick up. She shouldn't have called him, and part of her didn't know why she had when there was nothing she could offer him.

But she had called him and as her tears fell he demanded to know where she was, she felt anger. Anger that her father continued to keep secrets.

She wanted answers. But seeing her mother on the floor had nearly broken her. Who could it have been? Berton? Her father? The man Marcus had seen?

When she told Kevin everything, she'd expected anger, questions, but after she'd shared all that she knew, he quietly said, “Are you okay, now?”

It was such an odd question. How could she be okay? “I still don't know what my father thinks you know, or who attacked my mother, if—”

“That was the wrong question. Do you feel better having told me?”

Oddly enough, she did. She felt frustrated, scared, angry, but she didn't feel alone. For the first time in her life she had someone to share her fears and burdens. She felt like her world was crumbling around her, but Kevin stayed. No other man had. Except her father. A man who wanted to be the only dominating force in her life.

Kevin hadn't allowed her to push him away. That had been her strategy so that he'd never know the truth. She didn't think he'd want to stay with her once he learned the truth. But he had. She still worried how long that would last.

“I'm scared that this is just the beginning,” she told him. “That there are more awful secrets to uncover.”

“I know there are, but it's going to come an end,” he said then took her to his room and made love to her. Helping her to briefly forget a waking nightmare.

S
he was stealing his love
.
Every day Ruth could feel it. Cassie was stealing Drake's love. All the attention he'd offered her was being taken away. She had to do something. She'd proven that she could be a better wife and mother. She didn't divide her time with work. She'd devote her life to them. She had devoted her life to them.

Ruth heard them laughing in the kitchen and felt her stomach clench.

She was supposed to make him laugh. She was supposed to make him smile. He was supposed to have his arms around her waist and hold her close.

His face had changed since Cassie's return. He looked so much more beautiful.
Because he loves her so much
, her mind reminded her.

No, she could make him that happy too. It was just gratitude. She'd finally felt she'd found a home, a place that needed her, a place to belong. She couldn't let Cassie kick her out.

She remembered her mother ironing her clothes, telling her to be good: Be good and good things will happen to you. But she'd been wrong. She'd been good but that hadn't stopped her mother from dying, from her father remarrying and forgetting about her so that he could love his new family.

Didn't she matter? No. She'd been good, followed all the rules, worked hard and not once been rewarded. She'd prayed. This was her chance. She had to take action before Cassie stole all of Drake's love away.

“
D
oes
Dominique know you're doing this?” Clay asked.

“Are you trying to be funny?” Kevin replied as the two men made their way to the nondescript building sequestered in a warehouse district in northern Maryland. The early December clouds hung low, threatening rain.

“I could have done this on my own. It's what I'm paid for. We have to be careful we don't know what we're dealing with yet.”

“Right now we're dealing with cars. That's something I know and we're dealing with money. I have more than you do.”

“It could get dangerous.”

“Do you see me shaking?”

“It's not your kind of place.”

“Ever walk into a room and see the woman you love kneeling beside her mother's body?” He nodded when Clay didn't answer. “I didn't think so. Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You keep glancing around like a damn cop. You'll make them suspicious.”

“And you don't think they'll be suspicious of you?”

“I speak their language. Money and cars.”

“It may be about something else.”

“Probably. I'm here to find out.”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “You know something.”

“Yes, I know that Cartwright doesn't like being awaken in the middle of the night by a man holding a gun to his crotch.”

Clay stopped walking.

Kevin glanced over his shoulder at him. “Don't worry, I hired someone.” He smiled. “You know I'm good at that.”

Clay walked up to him. “What did you find out?”

“Enough to get an idea of who he's really afraid of, but there are still some puzzle pieces missing.”

“Do you think he will—”

“He knows better than to touch me. Just follow my lead.” Kevin walked up to the steel door and saw the intercom. He pressed the button.

“Who sent you?” a deep gritty voice said.

“Santa Claus,” Kevin replied. The door opened. They stepped inside and saw a warehouse full of custom built cars. The man who approached them didn't resemble his voice. Kevin had expected a man at least Clay's height and build, but the man barely reached Kevin's shoulder and looked as if he hadn't eaten a meal in awhile.

“You here for the Ten Z?” he said.

Kevin nodded. The man lead them over to a silver Porsche. Dominique had given him the code for the customized cars, but he couldn't see the difference yet.

The buzzer rang again and the man said, “Hold on a minute.” Then turned and answered.

The door opened, allowing the light to peek in, silhouetting the newcomers. Kevin felt Clay stiffen, then turn from the door.

Kevin sent him a look. “What's wrong with you?”

“My past just walked in.”

Kevin turned and saw a gorgeous redhead in spiked heels with a behind as bouncy as bubblegum. He couldn't stop a smile. “She give you a lot of trouble?”

“Not her, him.”

Kevin shifted his gaze to the man by her side. He had red hair too, but was at least two decades older, walking with a cane and a boot on his foot. “Oh, what did you do to him?”

“Helped put his uncle away.”

“How long ago?”

“Doesn't matter, he'll remember.”

“You'd better leave then, I'll find out what's going on.”

“No need. I know what makes this business special.” Clay made sure to keep his back turned and opened the car door to pull away the interior door frame. “Kilos of heroin, cocaine or prescription drugs can be stored here and easily retrieved. This is one of the best customizations I've seen. You can't tell from the outside that's it's been altered. Cartwright's smart. His business is in a great location. Being in one of the main cities would be too competitive. But the I-95 connection is ideal for them.”

“Are these the designs Berton was helping them with?”

“Most likely.”

The man returned to them. “Is everything in order?”

“We're still making sure,” Kevin said, watching Clay move around to the trunk.

“Relax,” the man said. “I included the bonus you requested.”

Clay opened the trunk, lifted the false bottom, then paused. Kevin noticed and walked around to see what had caught Clay's attention.

“Don't worry she'll last another five hours like this,” the man said. “You won't have any problems.”

For a moment Kevin didn't breathe. He stared at the baby, swaddled tight so it wouldn't move or be damaged. It had been drugged so it wouldn't cry. There was space for four more or two toddlers. He'd heard whispers of a lucrative underground market available to women who wanted—or were forced—to give up their babies for profit, but he'd never expected to see it.

Clay replaced the false bottom as if the sight disgusted him.

The man noticed. “You're disappointed?”

“He was hoping for two,” Kevin said.

“That would cost more.”

“It's not his birthday yet.”

The man laughed and Kevin paid in cash, ignoring Clay's frown.

“This is not a good idea,” Clay said, getting into the passenger's seat. “You just paid for a baby.”

“I paid for a car,” Kevin corrected him, quickly backing out of the garage.

“With a baby in it. This could take you down.”

“I can't leave the kid there,” Kevin said, making his way through the warehouse district.

Clay couldn't help a smug grin. “Now who's trying to be a hero?”

The sound of police sirens interrupted Kevin's reply. Clay turned around and swore. “It's a sting.”

Kevin pressed his foot on the gas. “It's not a sting.”

“That's a cop car.”

Kevin glanced in his rearview mirror. “Only one.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “And I can guarantee you a cop's not driving. Cartwright wouldn't risk involving police into his business. The profit is too great.”

Clay looked back again. “It's a good mimic.”

“The best ones are. They customize cars, remember? I'm sure they don't stick to just the interior.”

“Think you can lose him?” Clay asked, holding onto the door as Kevin made a fast turn.

“Let's see.”

For several miles it didn't look like he would. The car matched his many moves, disappearing several times only to reemerge again.

“What the hell does Cartwright want?” Clay asked. “Revenge?”

“That's not Cartwright.”

“Then who--”

“The man behind it all. The man who started this mess.”

“Berton?”

“No, he likely slit Carla's throat, but he's not big enough for this. ” He made another sharp turn.

“If you keep driving like this the real police will be after us.”

“That might work in our favor.”

“Have you ever been pulled over by the police?”

“No.”

“You don't want to.”

“You're right.” Kevin verged off a ramp then turned back towards the warehouse district that would keep them off the main roads so they wouldn't draw attention.

“Don't forget the baby,” Clay said, when Kevin sped through a four-way intersection.

Kevin angrily shifted gears. He didn't need the reminder or the warning. He knew he couldn't afford to get into another crash. “I won't,” he said. He knew he had a life to protect. Suddenly he remembered feeling that way before. He remembered the feeling of being chased, Cassie's question, ‘What's going on?' and not being able to reply. The sensation gripped him, the question and helplessness. But it wouldn't be the same this time. He wouldn't lose control, he wouldn't panic. He turned into an empty lot and spun the car around.

“What are you doing?” Clay asked, watching the other car come at them.

“Playing chicken.” He waited. He wasn't running anymore...never again. The cop car raced towards them but swerved to the left at the last minute.

Clay squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head back. “What the hell was that?”

“A warning. Did you see who was driving?”

“No.”

“I did,” Kevin said, putting the car in gear, “but we'll deal with that later. We need to get this baby to a hospital.”

“What will you say?”

Kevin couldn't help a smile. “Don't worry. I have a way with nurses.”

Clay shook his head. “Forget the nurses, we can drop off the baby—no questions asked.”