Deadly Sins (42 page)

It was after eight as Jaid walked down the hallway. She had her briefcase and purse; her phone was in hand as she strode through the building. “Stacy?” she said in relief when the girl answered. “How’s Royce? Were you able to keep him away from the news?”

The girl sounded worried. “He’s fine, Ms. M. And I made sure he didn’t watch any TV. But Mrs. Kettleson called your place and asked me about it. And there have been some calls from some newspapers and television networks. I didn’t answer, and I turned off the machine so Royce wouldn’t hear any of the messages they left. I hope that’s okay.”

Relief flickered through her. Had she been that responsible at fifteen? Somehow she doubted it. “That’s great. Thanks so much. I’m on my way home now.”

“That’s okay, your mom came over a few hours ago.”

Relief turned to trepidation. “Oh.”

“She sent me home. Said Royce needed to be with family. I’m sure she wouldn’t say anything to him about what happened, though. She’s, like, real protective, right?”

“Yes. She is. Thank you again, Stacy. You did great today.”

She felt something on her shoulders and turned to find Adam cloaking her with his overcoat.

“Those scrubs aren’t going to be much protection against the cold.”

She stared at him, her phone still clutched in her hand. “All I thought about today was shielding Royce from the news. But Mother . . . she had to have seen it. She’s a world-class worrier. I never thought to call.”

“Well.” Settling the coat around her shoulders, he placed a palm at the small of her back and guided her through the glass doors to the outside. “The clip I saw did mention your name,” he ignored her slight wince, “but it went on to say that you were uninjured. If she watched it, she knows you’re all right.”

Somehow that did little to lift the mantle of concern. They rounded the corner in front of headquarters. Headed for the parking garage. “Bolton said something today about the killer asking about me. Said he told him ‘all he knows.’ How do I find out exactly what that entailed? What if he relayed his questions about my son’s birth?”

“Jaid.” Adam’s ruined voice sounded like rumpled velvet. “Do you trust me?”

She stopped. Looked at him. And halted the immediate agreement on her lips. Did she? Not with her heart. Certainly not with that. But in all other matters . . . “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then I think it’s time you tell me just what you’re protecting that boy from.”

She ducked her head. Began walking again. Refusal was on her tongue. She’d spent years guarding Royce’s secret. It had long been second nature.

But protecting it from a careless journalist and keeping it from the madman targeting victims all over the city were two different things. “He’s adopted,” she said finally, eyes straight ahead. There were few people on the street and none near them. Even so, she kept her voice pitched low. “He was a few months old when I took him. His mother was dead. His father dying. And I’d been warned that the people responsible for his mother’s death were hunting for his father. For him. I promised I’d raise him as my own and keep his birth a secret. Adopt him, so his last name would be different. Take him to a new suburb. In essence, help the boy vanish, so he wouldn’t become victim to a revenge killing.”

She had said nothing to hint at it. But Adam’s hand on her elbow stopped her. The expression on his face told her he realized the truth.

“He’s your father’s son, isn’t he?”

The words sounded foreign. She’d spoken them to no one. Not to the judge at the adoption hearing. Not to the social workers that had come for visits before the adoption was final. Certainly not to her mother after they’d repaired their rocky relationship when Royce was two. She’d never risked even breathing them aloud.

Until now. “Yes.” She was barely conscious that they’d started walking again. “He was waiting for me outside headquarters one afternoon. It was a couple weeks after . . . after the last time I’d seen you in the Louisiana CCU.” The time when he’d been weak but awake. Strong enough to order her to go back to the city. Strong enough to convince her that their relationship was over for good.

“You’d always hoped he’d reach out again.”

Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, well, I guess delivering the GTO to my front door with the keys in it on my sixteenth birthday was all he was capable of. He left when I was eleven and stayed gone. But suddenly, he was there again. I met him several times after that. Wary, you know? But . . . hopeful. I thought maybe there was something there to salvage.”

“He was dying, you said.”

“Liver cancer. And I don’t know what he and Royce’s mother were into, or whether they just saw something they shouldn’t have. But she was gunned down in a driveby shooting weeks after Royce’s birth. And my father . . . they were after him, too. One way or another, he didn’t have a lot of time left. But I didn’t know about Royce until our fifth meeting. He brought him along, and when I saw him, I knew. I realized my father hadn’t returned for me. He’d returned because he needed something and I was all he had.”

“He knew he could rely on you to do the right thing. Even though he never had where you were concerned.”

“He couldn’t have known that.” The shadowy confines of the parking garage were fitting companions for the dark turn of her thoughts. She didn’t want to admit aloud the odd moments of resentment she’d had, toward an infant of all things. Royce had disrupted her life. Dropped her down in the middle of a world she knew nothing about. “He went to great lengths to protect his son.”

“While he’d left his daughter behind.”

She forgot sometimes that he was a forensic psychologist by training. It was what made him brilliant at his job. But it could be uncomfortable to have that insight turned on her. “I don’t know what my father’s relationship was with Royce’s mother. Just that the baby bore her last name. And I’m not proud of how I handled things with Royce for those first few months. But somewhere along the way, I stopped caring for him merely as a favor to my father. It was about our relationship, my son’s and mine. Because he’d become that by then. I might not have been such a great place for him to land at first, but I’ll give my life to protect him now. And after today . . .” A quick shudder worked down her spine as she stopped at her car. She looked at Adam. Saw understanding on his face. “I can’t risk him. I can’t risk what Bolton might have told the killer or what he plans to do with that information.”

“So we keep him safe.”

As if it were that easy. That simple. Adam took the key fob from her hand because she hadn’t yet used it and unlocked the car door for her. “Would your mother accompany him if we sent him away for a while?”

Her stomach did a quick, vicious lurch at the thought. She hadn’t been separated from her son for more than a weekend since she’d brought him home. “I think I can convince her of the need. But I don’t know where they can go.”

He handed her back the fob. Reached for his cell. “Disney World should be nice this time of year.” When she stared, he looked uncertain. “That’s the name, right? Orlando? Mickey Mouse?”

“Yes.” She did a mental shake. “But I thought maybe a place to stash them, where there’d be no money trail.”

“Dear Jaid. Have some faith. I know a bit about this sort of thing.” He opened her car door as he began speaking on the phone. “Paulie, what do we have Ramsey on right now?” He frowned. “He is? Are they joined at the hip these days? Yes, I know they’re married.” Adam covered the phone for a moment. “I’ll follow you home. It’ll be arranged by the time we get there.”

“Arranged? Adam, I need some input into this. I’m not going to just send my son off with strangers who I’ve never . . .” With a gentle pressure on her shoulder, she was guided into the car. Tossed the keys.

“We’ll talk later.”

Then he was striding for his vehicle, his voice trailing behind him. “I need cash. A bank card accessing one of our unassociated accounts. And I want Ramsey to drive them down there. Their names can’t show up on a passenger manifest anywhere. Yeah, send Stryker along, too. He might come in handy charming the grandmother.”

It was a bit like being picked up and spun around by a tornado. Finally, Jaid put the key in the ignition. Started the car. Dealing with Adam could be like that. Overpowering. Devastating. It took strength to stand up to him.

She backed out of the parking spot. Straightened the car and headed toward the entrance.

But when it came to keeping her son safe, she was willing to do whatever it took. Even if that meant letting Adam take over.

The taillights winked for the last time before the departing car turned at the corner down the street. Was lost from sight. Adam slanted a look at the woman by his side. He saw her swallow hard. Her bottom lip trembled once before she deliberately firmed it. Then she turned back toward the small home where she lived. Headed inside.

He thought he could guess what it cost her to send the boy away. Figured it took a particular type of courage to put her son’s fate in the hands of strangers, even if those strangers happened to work for Adam.

Following her into the house, he locked the door behind him. Went to sit next to her on the couch. He wasn’t accustomed to giving comfort. But it seemed all too natural to draw her into his arms. To have her head rest, just for a moment, against his shoulder.

“They’ll be safe. I promise you. I’m told there are countless parks and shows to keep them occupied for several days. When this is over, Ramsey and Dev will go back and bring them home again. No one will ever be the wiser. Here.” He dug in his suit-coat pocket. Handed her a nondescript cell phone. “This number is programmed into the cell we gave to your mother and vice versa. You’ll be able to communicate as needed.”

She leaned back a little to take it. Something inside him mourned the loss of contact. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“Everything that can be planned for has been.” He stared at her, his gut clenching. “It’s the things you don’t plan for, can’t imagine, that grab you by the throat. Today, on the street, when I saw you go down . . .” A vise squeezed in his chest. That moment when the bus had obstructed his view had been a torturous eternity.

Her gaze was caught by something in his expression. He didn’t worry about what might show there. Couldn’t. Instead he cupped her face in his hands and took her mouth in a hard, desperate kiss. Let the warmth, the pressure, heal something inside him that had threatened to split when the rifle sounded.

“Well.” Her hands came up to caress the backs of his. She whispered against his lips, “Now, you have an inkling of what I went through when you were in the CCU. Both times.”

He didn’t want to consider it. Not the worry that she’d experienced while she’d sat at his bedside, nor how near he’d come to being placed in that same situation with her today. Or worse.

The phone vibrated in his pocket. He leaned in for another quick kiss. “Don’t go anywhere.” He pushed himself to a standing position with one hand on the arm of the couch. Took his cell out with one hand. Loosened his tie with the other. “Because I don’t intend to. Not tonight.”

Her slow smile had heat flaring in his belly. And proved entirely too distracting when he answered the phone. “Raiker.”

Paulie’s tone filled his ear. Talking fast. Urgently.

“That’s impossible,” he interrupted tersely. Paulie’s voice grew more urgent. And disbelief was elbowed aside by anger. And frustration at his own blindness.

“Call a code eight. Shut it all down. Yes, now.” He stopped, listened a few more moments. “No, I’m at Jaid’s. Centerville.” His gaze went to her again, and wished he wasn’t responsible for putting that expression on her face. “Not here. Call on the safe phone when you get closer. I’ll meet you.”

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t need another hit today after everything she’d been through. But there was no way to keep it from her. For all he knew she’d be getting her own phone call from the bureau shortly.

“Paulie got a tip. There’s a warrant out for my arrest.”

Jaid bounced off the couch, her face a mask of shock. “What? Why?”

Strangely, her reaction, so similar to his a moment earlier, calmed something inside him. “I’m wanted for questioning regarding the DC murders. That card Bolton had today . . . apparently, they lifted my thumbprint from it.”

“That’s impossible.” Nothing about the news made sense. Jaid shook her head, as if that would clear it. “You never got near the card. I didn’t take it out of the bag.”

His expression was grim. “I expect that’s their point.”

She stared at him, her mind working furiously. “It was a setup. The whole thing today . . . a big, splashy, in-yourface, are-you-watching-this-world setup?” Driven to move, she started to pace. “Hedgelin has to see it. You’ve practically been tied up in a bow and delivered to him on a platter. He can’t possibly buy this.”