Intimate Betrayal (19 page)

Reese nodded absently and wondered what could be keeping Lynnette.

“H
ave you heard anything from Max?” Claudia asked.

“No. I haven't.” James heaved a long breath and pushed himself away from the table. “But I don't expect to. Larry is keeping an eye on things for me.” He turned, slung his hands in his pants pockets and unconsciously began to pace the room.

Claudia's senses were immediately heightened seeing her husband's telltale sign of worry.

“Even though Frank Murphy has been relatively quiet since our meeting,” James began, “I still don't trust him. He's not above doing what he feels he must to get what he wants.”

“Do you really think he would hurt Max?”

“If he thought that Max was a threat.” He turned and faced his wife. “Yes.”

Claudia swallowed and the old knot of guilt tightened in her stomach. She'd spent the better part of Max's life wishing
him away. Wishing he'd never been born. Wishing that things could be different.

She'd tried to love him, be a mother to him, but between her own animosity and James's unwillingness to let her get close to Max, she'd never forged a relationship with him. She knew he was hurting, lonely and confused all of those years, but she couldn't help it. Every time she tried to reach out to him and he looked at her with those dark, exotic eyes, she'd see her husband in the arms of Sukihara.

Claudia squeezed her eyes shut. She now had an opportunity to make amends. If it wasn't too late. But the gnawing sensation that what they were dealing with went much deeper than what James was telling her, persisted. Her husband was involved in something that had changed the lives of too many people. She'd found a way to live with past deeds and even her own indiscretions. What was frightening was that those deeds had been resurrected and stood blocking their future.

“I have a meeting at Chevy Chase,” James announced, pulling Claudia from her reverie.

Her heart beat a bit quicker. “What does he want now?”

James's jaw clenched. “He wouldn't say over the phone. Only that he expected me to be there.”

Claudia busied herself with the dishes in the sink. “Have you gotten any word from Larry?” She kept her gaze focused on the suds.

“Nothing more than Reese seems to have moved in with Max while they're in California. They're staying at his house in San Diego.”

“That's good though, isn't it?”

“It makes Larry's job easier,” he responded noncommittal.

Claudia turned from the sink. “What aren't you telling me, James?”

He sidestepped the question. “If we get into a discussion about this, I'll be late for my meeting.” He crossed the room and pecked her on the cheek. “I don't know how long I'll be gone,” he tossed over his shoulder, walking out of the door.

Claudia nodded at the familiar refrain and also understanding that her husband had no intention of telling her anything further. For him, the subject was closed. She turned her attention back to the dishes, floated in the suds. She needed to talk with Larry.

 

Larry spotted one of Frank Murphy's men the moment the blue Chevy Nova pulled up in front of the building that housed Maxwell's offices. All of his senses shifted into gear. He peered intently at the figure shadowed behind the wheel.

Moments later, a tall athletically built man emerged with a small duffel bag in his hand. He leaned casually against the car as if waiting for someone or some signal. The man checked his watch and looked toward the revolving doors.

Larry reached for the lock on the car door, just as a throng of lunch-goers exited from the building. Larry jumped out of the car, but not before the unidentified man merged with the crowd. Larry quickly scanned the area as he tried to dodge the two-way traffic. The man was gone.

He pulled a cellular phone from his shirt pocket and punched in the number to Maxwell's office.

“M.K. Enterprises.”

“Maxwell Knight,” Larry barked into the phone, racing across the street and through the revolving doors.

“I'm sorry, he's in a meeting. May I…”

“Don't let anyone who's not an employee near him or Reese Delaware. Call security.”

“What? Who is this?” Carmen demanded, her pulse beginning to race.

“Just do it!” Larry stabbed the button for the elevator to the executive floor, changed his mind and took the stairs. He had just as much reason as anyone for not wanting Reese Delaware to uncover the truth of fifteen years ago. But he would no longer be a party to anyone else getting hurt, even if it meant that his role would be revealed. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and took the stairs two at a time.

 

Carmen's hands were shaking when the messenger appeared in front of her desk.

“Package for Mr. Knight,” he said, pulling his cap lower on his brow.

Instinctively, Carmen signed for the package, subconsciously recognizing the uniform of the messenger service, even as her mind was on the disturbing phone call.

The messenger took his clipboard, turned and walked onto the elevator, just as Larry pushed through the stairwell door. He rushed toward Carmen's desk, his physical presence and tense look on his face, a frightening combination.

Unobtrusively, Carmen depressed the button, silently signaling for security. This was obviously the man the phone call was about.

“Has anyone…”

But before Larry could get the words out, two plainclothes security guards flanked him on either side.

“Problem, Ms. Lopez?” asked the guard to the right of Larry, casting him a hard stare.

“I just got a very strange call to be on the lookout for anyone asking for Mr. Knight.” She pointed a finger of accusation at Larry. “Then he came charging in here like a madman.”

“Okay, buddy,” said the second guard, putting Larry's upper arm in a vise-like grip. “Let's see some identification.”

“We're wasting time, dammit! I made that phone call.”

“I.D. Now!” the security guard ordered.

“What's going on?”

The group of four turned in the direction of Maxwell's voice.

Carmen jumped up from her seat. “Mr. Knight…”

“Larry?” Maxwell moved quickly toward the group, his own fear building with every step. He kept his expression calm and unreadable, not daring to expose the sense of apprehension that was steadily building within him. It's all right, fellas,” he said flashing a smile that took in everyone. “I know him.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Knight?” Carmen queried not totally satisfied.

“It's fine, Carmen. Larry's a friend of my father.” He put on his best smile, clasped Larry around the shoulder and ushered him away.

“Why don't we go in my office?”

“One of Murphy's men was here,” Larry said in a low, urgent voice.

Maxwell felt his stomach muscles clench. “Maybe we should go in the conference room,” he said, changing direction, remembering that Reese was in his office. There was no need to alarm her unnecessarily, or at least until he knew exactly what was happening.

Once behind closed doors, Maxwell spun on Larry. “This better be good,” he bit out through his teeth. He stood splay-legged with his arms across his chest.

“I'm sure your father told you that Murphy would have someone watching you. We have no idea what his plans are, but we know he has no intention of you divulging any information to Reese Delaware about your father.”

Maxwell methodically paced the room as he listened to Larry. “How in the hell can he prevent me from talking? And
how would he even know if or when I told Reese anything? Besides the fact that I don't have anything to tell.”

“They can't be sure about that. Since they haven't made any overt moves, my guess is that your office is probably bugged as well as your house.”

The thought that someone may be listening or had listened to him and Reese made him feel physically ill. His nostrils flared in fury.

“I need to get into your house in San Diego and sweep it. This office, too.”

Maxwell turned his dark eyes on Larry. He took in a long breath and expelled it as he pursed his lips and sat on the edge of the conference table. He braced his palms on the table's edge and focused totally on Larry Templeton. “Are you going to tell me what's really going on? What is it that I'm not supposed to tell? Don't you realize that I may inadvertently know something and wind up saying the wrong thing without realizing it? Then what's going to happen?”

Larry turned away from Maxwell. “I'm not free to discuss this with you, Maxwell, and you know that. And…”

Maxwell's deep voice dropped to a threatening low. “You walk in here and tell me that my office and my house may be bugged. You tell me that Frank Murphy will do just about anything to keep me from giving Reese information that I know nothing about, and you aren't free to discuss it! My father insisted I keep Reese close by—as a precaution, so that you could keep a watch over us. And you aren't free to discuss it!”

Larry raised his hands in a fending-off gesture. “Max, listen to me, it's best that you don't know. Believe that,” he said with sincerity, thinking back to that fateful morning. He shook his head with regret. “It's best that you don't know.” He moved toward Maxwell's taut frame. “My best suggestion is
not to discuss anything with her that is even remotely related to your father.”

Max nodded and leaned back against the table's edge.

“Will you let me check the office and the house now?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Larry shook his head. “I know you're a risk taker, Max. But this is a risk you want to avoid.”

Maxwell inhaled and slowly stood. His body tensed with unspent anger. This was too close. The reality of seeing Larry brought the seriousness of their situation to the forefront. Sure he could play Mr. Macho and tell Larry to get lost. But he couldn't let his pride stand in the way of Reese's safety. Slowly he nodded in agreement.

Larry breathed a sigh of relief. “I'd better get started.”

Maxwell moved toward the door and stopped. He turned toward Larry. “Don't let anything happen to her, Larry.”

He'd been under orders fifteen years ago. He'd followed them and it had cost lives. Now was his opportunity to make restitution, if he had to put his own safety on the line, he would.

“I'll do everything in my power to see that the both of you stay safe.” He put a firm hand on Maxwell's shoulder. “If you can leave early for Tokyo—” he paused “—I suggest that you do.”

Maxwell looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

 

With all the excitement of the past few moments, Carmen had completely forgotten about the package for Maxwell. She looked at the plain manila envelope now, picked it up and headed toward Maxwell's office.

Carmen tapped lightly on Maxwell's door, then stepped inside.

“Oh, hello, Reese. Isn't Max here?”

Reese looked up from her laptop and smiled vaguely. “No.
I haven't seen him since he left for his second meeting.” She closed the cover to the machine and stood, stretching her tight muscles. “Is something wrong?” she asked, noting the odd expression on Carmen's usually even face.

“No,” she responded with a slight shake of her head. “It's just that I saw him a few moments ago while I was covering the front desk, and I…well, never mind. I'll just leave this for him.” She walked toward the desk and placed the envelope on top of a stack of folders. She turned to leave then stopped and faced Reese.

“Uh, Reese, has anyone, I mean anyone you don't know, been here or tried to reach you?”

Reese frowned and the rush of adrenaline began to pump through her veins, making her heartbeat quicken its pace. She moved closer to Carmen. This time, clearly seeing the look of distress which her expressive eyes failed to mask.

“Carmen, what on earth is wrong?” She placed a hand of encouragement on Carmen's shoulder, and instantly felt the slight tremors running through the petite body. “Sit down,” Reese instructed, “and tell me what has you so rattled—and why someone would be looking for me.”

Carmen did as she was asked, silently thankful that she could sit before her knees gave out. Reese took a seat opposite her.

Carmen breathed deeply and for a moment shut her eyes, remembering the urgent phone call, the man rushing in and Max claiming that he was a friend. None of that explained his near-frantic call. She shivered again.

“I'm sure it's nothing.” Carmen flashed a smile that fell short of reaching her eyes. “You're sure
what's
nothing?” Reese pressed, annoyance and agitation building by the minute.

Carmen patted Reese's folded hands. “Mr. Knight will handle everything. I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding.”
She stood to leave. “Sometimes I just overreact.” She walked quickly toward the door. “I'm sorry if I upset you. It was totally inappropriate,” she apologized.

“But Carmen…” Reese called out.

Carmen opened the door and stepped across the threshold, fighting down the urge to tell Reese what happened even as she closed the door behind her. She already knew that Max would have her head for opening her big mouth in the first place and upsetting Reese on top of it all. She inhaled a shaky breath. But Maxwell was like a son to her and she'd come to care about Reese. The very thought that something could happen to them sent another chill scurrying up her spine.

 

Reese was up pacing the floor, her look dark and pensive when Maxwell strolled in about twenty minutes later.

He plastered a big smile on his face as he approached her. He knew he had to get her out of there as soon as possible so that Larry could do his work. And he still had to keep her away from the house long enough for Larry to check it out as well. It would take at least twenty-four to thirty-six hours to change the flight and make hotel arrangements. And he had to have a plausible reason why they were nearly a week early.