Hard to Handle (15 page)

Sam clenched his jaw and folded up the note. He found a similar message on Tuesday night.

By Wednesday, the silence between them started to feel normal, and less awkward. If anything changed in her calendar, she would send him a text message with the details. The space was now wired with the new video surveillance and security equipment. He was able to watch the feed on his phone, and receive alerts of any unauthorized entry into the office. That day, they arrived at the office by eight-thirty. Then, later, Sam drove Kaylee to Brooklyn, where she spent most of the afternoon at a site visit for one of her projects.

They returned to Antonoli shortly after four o'clock, and Kaylee went back to work at her computer. Ten minutes later, Sam's phone vibrated with a new message.

Sam already knew the specifics on George Stone-Clement, Jr., including recent pictures and current activities. On paper, Junior seemed to be a typical twenty-seven-year-old man from an affluent background. But by six-thirty, Junior had yet to arrive. Annie and Paul had left about an hour ago. Kaylee finally walked out of her office, obviously ready to leave for the day. She wore a black dress that hugged her body and ended just below the knees. Her heels were black and white and impossibly high, but she walked in them perfectly, her hips swaying gently with each step.

He grit his teeth, and looked down.

“We'll meet him outside,” Kaylee said as she walked toward the front entrance. They were the first words she had spoken to him that day.

Sam nodded. She stood beside him while he set the security alarm; then he opened the main door, holding it wide as she walked through.

“There he is,” she said.

In the few seconds it took to activate the digital lock outside, Sam saw Kaylee wave one of her hands in the air and turned his head to look out at the street. There was a young guy waiting on the opposite side of the street for the traffic to slow down so he could cross. From a distance, his appearance matched the pictures of Kaylee's brother. Sam and Kaylee started down the front stairs of the brownstone when Sam's cell phone vibrated and chirped loudly with a very distinctive alarm. He didn't need to take the device out of his pocket to read the warning. It was a sophisticated and very sensitive radio-frequency sensor indicating that a bomb detonator had been triggered within a one hundred feet radius of their position.

With little time to react, Sam grabbed Kaylee around the waist and pulled her tight against his body so she was completely covered by his size, then twisted them both to face the building and leapt forward. They slammed down hard on the top landing just as the black BMW blew up, spraying burning metal and debris everywhere.

CHAPTER 15

Kaylee didn't understand what was going on. Suddenly, she was flying through the air, crashing to the ground, face down with a heavy weight squeezing the breath out of her body. An enormous boom reverberated around her, shaking the surface beneath her face like an earthquake. The chaotic sounds of shattering glass and ringing car alarms swiftly followed. But they were muffled, and her ears were ringing.

When she finally opened her eyes, it was to squint through the cloud of dust and ash that was blowing around her. It was so thick that Kaylee coughed uncontrollably the moment she tried to breathe deep.

“Kaylee?” The crushing weight eased up, and Sam's face was suddenly in her line of sight. Their eyes met, and his were an intense blue, his face creased with concern.

“Stay down,” he demanded, still covering her body like a shield.

She nodded, coughing some more. Then she remembered the sight of Junior about to walk across the street toward her.

“Junior,” she gasped, trying to push up onto her knees. Her hands stung as they scraped over tiny shards of glass. “Where's my brother?”

But Sam still held her down.

“Where's my brother!” Kaylee yelled, now struggling to get up and look around. Fear and desperation were starting to overwhelm her. It felt like forever before she felt Sam grip her shoulder to help her up. It was only a couple of minutes.

When they stood up, Kaylee turned around to see exactly what had happened. It took a while for her to comprehend the scene in front of her. Not five feet away, the black carcass of a large sedan was engulfed in flames. Cars on the street were stopped in both directions with their drivers and passengers looking around. Several of them were on phone calls or taking pictures and videos. Pedestrians and shopkeepers were rushing around, trying to assess damage and injuries. Several people were lying on the street, either too stunned to get up or too injured to move.
Where is Junior?

Sam was trying to move her. He had an arm around her waist and was pulling her back from the scene.

“Let me go!” she snapped. “I have to find my brother!”

“I need to get you off the street, Kaylee,” he said sharply, forcibly moving her. “Get inside the building. I'll find your brother.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glistening.

“I promise,” Sam added. “I will find him. But I need to get you inside.”

Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her. She fell back a step, looking around wildly. It had been a car bomb. Someone had just blown up the car Sam had rented two days ago.

“Let's go,” he urged, standing behind her protectively while unlocking the office doors. There was a gun in his right hand. The narrow sidelights on either side of the entrance were shattered, with chunks of decorative glass littered everywhere.

“Stay right here, okay?” he continued when she was over the threshold. “The security surveillance will let me know if anyone tries to enter. Do you understand, Kaylee? Do not leave the office.”

“They tried to kill me,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“No. This wasn't a miss. They just got more coercive.”

From the now empty gap next to the doorway, she watched Sam fly down the front stairs and onto the street, pistol held in both hands but pointed down. He walked around the burning car as though examining it, then took out his cell phone and took pictures. Then he ran to the other side of the street, stopping briefly to talk to anyone he passed along the way. There was an older woman lying down on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop with blood covering her shoulder. Sam crouched down beside her for a few seconds. Then Kaylee watched as he took off his jacket, folded it up, and gently tucked it under her head like a pillow. He spoke to her again, then was up and running.

Kaylee looked back and forth along the street from the narrow opening, trying to catch a glimpse of her brother's blue suit. Her eyes returned to Sam, who was now going door to door, looking inside each of the retail spaces. Finally, he came out of the deli with his arm wrapped around Junior. Kaylee gripped the window frame, weak with relief. But, from a distance, she could see that Junior was limping and had a cut on his forehead with a small amount of blood dripping down the side of his face.

The sound of sirens was now audible and getting increasingly louder. Within a few more minutes, the street was blocked off by several police cars. Three ambulances were on site attending to those injured, including Junior. It was so hard for Kaylee not to run out and hug her brother, but she stayed exactly where Sam had left her until he returned. And she was very aware that she had created this chaos, and that she was directly responsible for all the injuries and damage.

Once the area was secured by the NYPD, Sam ran back to join her in the Antonoli offices.

“How's Junior? Is he okay?” she immediately demanded, rubbing her hands together.

“He's okay,” he told her with an assuring hand on her shoulder. “There's a superficial cut on his forehead, and he scraped his knee when he hit the ground. The paramedics are working on him now. He's going to be fine.”

Kaylee swallowed, breathing deep and trying hard not to start crying uncontrollably.

“Can I see him?”

“Soon. He knows you're here, and you're okay. But I need to get you back to the apartment as soon as possible,” Sam explained in a low, soothing tone. “I'll have a car here in a few minutes, then I'll take you both home.”

“Will we be safe there? They must know where I live,” Kaylee asked as panic started to rise up again.

“As safe as anywhere else at this point. But I'll be reviewing all options,” he told her.

“Okay. Okay,” she repeated, trusting him completely.

“Christ, Kaylee! Your hands,” he cursed, grabbing both of her hands and turning the palms up.

They were scraped, torn, and crusted with dried blood. She suddenly became aware of how they throbbed.

“Come over here and sit down,” Sam urged, leading her over to the receptionist desk and pulling out Annie's chair so she could sit in it. “I'll have a car here in just a few minutes. But let me get someone to have a look at those cuts.”

“This is all my fault,” she stated softly. “I did this.”

“Kaylee, these fucking arses are dangerous cowards. You can't feel responsible for their actions.”

“No, listen to me,” she insisted, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

Sam paused, as though reading the seriousness in her eyes.

“Let's get you cleaned up and back to the apartment. Then we'll talk.”

She sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.

He quickly brought in a paramedic to clean and bandage her hand, creating a mitten made from sterile gauze. It was almost seven o'clock when a dark SUV arrived, parked discreetly just outside the crime scene. Sam directed Junior into the back seat, then finally walked Kaylee out of the Antonoli offices toward the vehicle.

“Jesus, Mikayla!” her brother swore when she entered the vehicle and sat beside him on the back seat. They immediately hugged each other tight.

“Are you okay?” she whispered near his ear.

“Yeah, I think so. The explosion knocked me off my feet for a second. But it could have been worse, right?”

She didn't want to think about it.

“Who is that guy?” Junior asked when they finally pulled apart. He gestured with his head to Sam, who was now sitting in the front passenger seat and looking bigger than ever. The SUV took off, quickly heading toward Lower Manhattan.

“He just said you were safe and with him,” her brother continued.

Kaylee sighed. “He's a friend and he's been helping out for the last few days,” she replied evasively. “It's a long story.”

“Is he a detective or something?”

“No.”

“Well, he definitely acted like one, the way he directed everyone and got the street blocked off.”

Kaylee just looked away. Now that she was away from the scene and sitting safely beside Junior, the adrenaline rush was slowly ebbing away. She felt physically exhausted and emotionally raw. Junior must have seen it reflected on her face. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her up against him. Kaylee cried silently for the rest of the ride.

Moving from the car and up to the apartment felt like a military operation. Sam and the stranger who drove the car covered her from both sides, and they had Junior walking in front. Once inside the apartment, the stranger took a position by the door and Sam immediately got on his phone.

“Do you need anything?” Kaylee asked Junior as they walked slowly together into the great room. He brushed the cut over his eyebrow, held together with a butterfly closure, and winced in obvious pain.

“I wouldn't mind some pain reliever, if you have any,” he admitted.

“Sure. Go sit down. I'll bring you some.”

Kaylee brought him back some acetaminophen and a bottle of water. She sat beside him while he swallowed the pills. They were still for a while until, eventually, Junior turned on the televisions. One of the screens showed the evening news, with live coverage of the aftermath. The caption on the screen read:
Car explodes in Midtown. Police suspect foul play—investigation under way.

Another forty-five minutes or so went by. Kaylee was aware of Sam talking on the phone and working on his laptop, which was now set up on the kitchen counter. At some point, he handed her a bottle of water, which she gratefully gulped down. She and Junior were still watching the ongoing news coverage when there was a knock at the door. Kaylee looked up, and her heart immediately started thudding in her chest. The stranger who had driven them home immediately opened the door to three people standing in the hallway, only one of whom she recognized.

“Evan,” she whispered, standing up. Junior stood also.

Evan DaCosta strode swiftly into the room while his other companions filed in behind him. Instead of his usual expensive suit, he wore black utility pants and a fitted top that stretched snugly across his wide chest. His handsome face showed fierce determination. Kaylee covered her mouth to hide its trembling. Despite everything that had happened, and what was yet to come, it was so good to see him.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” he demanded as he approached them in the great room. The gruffness of his voice was softened by the concern in his eyes.

Kaylee only shrugged before he pulled her into his arms, forcing her up on to her tippy toes.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered into his ear.

“If you're in trouble, where else would I be?” he replied before they separated.

“Evan, it's good to see you,” Junior said as the two men shook hands and slapped shoulders.

Evan then stepped back, and Kaylee looked around at the four men and one woman who now surrounded her and her brother like warriors ready for battle. Sam seemed to understand her confusion, and he stepped forward to stand next to Evan.

“Kaylee, I've brought in the Fortis team to help with your security going forward.”

“You should have told me,” she protested.

“There wasn't exactly time for debate. And I think you'll agree that the situation has escalated beyond that of what you hired me for.”

She clenched her jaw hard, forced to accept that he was right. One of the other men looked vaguely familiar, and he walked up to her. “Hi, Mikayla. I'm Raymond Blunt. We met briefly a few years ago.”

Kaylee smiled a little. “Hi, Raymond. I remember. And thank you for coming here so quickly,” she replied politely.

“And since these Neanderthals have no manners, I'll introduce myself,” said the tall, attractive woman next to Raymond. “I'm Renee Thomas, Fortis agent. And that's David Ferguson, by the door. He's from DaCosta, and based in New York.”

Kaylee and Junior nodded to each of them.

“Now that we have all the niceties out of the way, let's get set up and see what we're dealing with,” Evan concluded.

She looked at Sam, but he had turned to talk with Renee and Raymond, pointing in the direction of the open dining area. That was when Kaylee noticed the four large metal boxes behind them, just in front of the apartment door.

“What's going on?” she asked Evan as people started moving in all directions, clearly executing a plan she had no knowledge of.

“We're going to set up some equipment to help us find these bastards and take them down,” he replied.

“Wait a minute. Take down who? Why?” Junior asked with obvious confusion. “What's going on here?”

Sam joined them. “I think we should all put our cards on the table,” he said bluntly. “We don't have time for any more bullshit. The risks are too high.”

“What?” Junior questioned. “Kayla, what are they talking about?”

Kaylee looked at the three men in her life and wondered if it was fate that they were all together, now. Or karma. Either way, it was time for the truth. She took a deep breath.

“Sam's right. I need to tell you guys something.” She looked Sam squarely in the eyes. “This is all happening because of me.”

Junior was a smart man with the mind of a lawyer. He looked between his sister and the man he knew as owner of a major defense contractor for the federal government.

“The explosion,” Junior finally said. “You guys know something about it.”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm the one responsible.”

“Mikayla, this is not your fault—” Evan tried to tell her, but she cut him off, raising her hands in frustration.