Out of Turn (37 page)

“Why?”

Kade’s face was stark when he answered. “If they put him with other inmates, they’ll kill him.”

I stared at Kade, horrified. “They wouldn’t… he’s running for governor…”

“That won’t matter. I’ll scour the den, find that guy’s number—he may be able to help. Now go.”

“Okay.” I scurried off to the telephone, terrified of what was going to happen to Blane. A few minutes later, I was punching in Charlotte’s phone number. She answered on the second ring.

“Charlotte, it’s Kathleen,” I said. “The cops—Blane’s been arrested.”

It took only a few moments to give the details of how Blane had confessed my fake alibi and the subsequent arrest.

“Kade’s worried Blane may get hurt if they don’t put him in isolation,” I said. “Please, can you get down there?”

“I’ll go right away,” she said, “but I don’t know whether there’s anything I can do if they decide to ‘accidentally’ put him in with other prisoners.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Cops sometimes have their own idea of justice. A murder like Kandi’s—they might put him with other inmates just to teach him a lesson, prod him into confessing.”

Oh God. I felt nausea rise in my throat.

“Do what you can,” I said.

We hung up after she said again that she would go downtown immediately. I went back to the den, where Kade was searching Blane’s desk.

“Did you find it?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he answered, pulling open the desk’s bottom drawer and rifling through it.

My throat had a lump in it that felt the size of a golf ball, but I forced the words out. “Charlotte said she can request isolation but that the cops sometimes will ignore it and put him with other inmates anyway.”

“I know.”

“What are we going to do?” My voice was too shrill, but I couldn’t help it.

“One thing at a time,” he said, shoving the drawer shut and yanking open the top drawer. He paused.

“What is it?” I asked, peering over the desk, but I couldn’t see what he was looking at.

Kade pulled out a photograph. Curious, I rounded the desk, then sucked in a breath.

It was one of the photos Keaston had given Blane. Kade and I were at Bar Sinister in Denver, me in my leather prostitute ensemble, standing between his knees as he sat on the barstool. His hands were nearly hidden, they were so far up the back of my skirt.

The obvious heat between us in that photograph made my cheeks burn.

“Where did Blane get this?” Kade asked, and the ice in his voice made me look at him in surprise.

“Keaston,” I said. “That’s what he gave Blane to prove to him that you and me…” I couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Didn’t you wonder how Keaston could possibly have had photos of us in that bar? No one knew we were going there.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed. It had never occurred to me, the circumstances of my and Blane’s breakup overshadowing everything else.

“The only person who knew was Garrett,” Kade continued, “and he never said who he was working for before he died.”

“You don’t think—”

“What other possible explanation could there be?”

“But… he’s your uncle, too,” I spluttered. “Why would he try to kill you?”

“Because he knows I can tie him to Sheffield,” Kade said.

Ron Sheffield. The former CIA agent who’d masqueraded as a Navy JAG officer. He’d threatened and killed witnesses, nearly killed me, all to coerce Blane into losing a trial. “But… you’re family!” I couldn’t comprehend it. Keaston would knowingly send Garrett to kill his own flesh and blood?

“Not to him,” Kade said flatly. “He tolerates me because of Blane. That’s all.”

Kade pulled out a booklet and started flipping through it. “Ah,” he said, “here’s his numbers. Should’ve known. Only Blane would be so cliché as to keep a literal little black book. Here it is.”

Kade pulled out his cell and dialed. After a moment, he said, “Jared—it’s Kade. They’ve arrested Blane. I have evidence I need tested for that DNA match.”

I listened as they arranged when and where they were going to meet. When he hung up, he said, “Get me the DNA you got off James.”

I ran upstairs to Blane’s bedroom, catching sight of the baggie with my bra stuffed inside. I grabbed it, then hurried back to the den and handed it to Kade. He looked at it, then seemed to realize what it was.

“Why is James’s DNA on your bra?” he asked.

“It was all I had at the time,” I answered with a shrug, watching as he pulled the piece of red lingerie out of the bag. He examined the fabric, paying particular attention to where James had cut the elastic.

“He cut it off you.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. I knew that tone of voice, and I could only be grateful that Kade hadn’t been the one to walk in on James and me last night. If he had, James would be dead.

Kade looked at me and our eyes caught. Suddenly, all that had been said upstairs between him, me, and Blane came rushing back.

“Kade,” I began, not even sure what I was going to say, just that I wanted to fix things… somehow. “About earlier—”

He cut me off mid-sentence. “Now’s not the time.” He stuffed the bra back in the baggie.

I persisted. “Just listen to me—”

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, interrupting again. He brushed by me, but I grabbed a handful of his shirt and hung on. He stopped, but the blue of his eyes was cold when he looked down at me, all emotion wiped from his expression.

I hated it when he did that, when I couldn’t read anything from him—when he looked at me the way he had months ago, like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I instinctively knew it was a defense mechanism, Kade’s way of dealing with his emotions, but I still hated it.

“I want you to know that I never would have done what I did in Vegas if I didn’t care about you,” I said. It had to be said, it was the truth, and Kade deserved that.

“But now that you and Blane are back together, you regret it,” he replied, matter-of-fact.

“Blane and I aren’t back together,” I said. “But regardless, I… I just shouldn’t have done that. You were drunk and I… Well, I have no excuse.” Unless finally giving in
to the overwhelming temptation of Kade counted as an excuse.

His steady, penetrating gaze made me nervous and I glanced down, realizing I still had hold of his shirt. I let it go, smoothing the wrinkles I’d made in the fabric.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he said. “I have to go make sure no one kills my brother.”

Anxiety knotted in my stomach. “How can you do that?”

Kade smiled. “I’ve got friends in low places, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” And he was gone.

I stood staring at the empty room, feeling like I’d just been hit by a truck. In the span of thirty minutes, Blane had been arrested and was possibly in danger, depending on the whim of the police. Kade had figured out that Senator Keaston had been behind the attempts on his life, and consequently mine, while we were in Denver, and he had also been involved with the intimidation and coercion of Blane during the Waters trial.

Then I realized that Mona and Gerard didn’t know. They didn’t come over on Sundays so had no clue what had happened.

I ran upstairs and slipped on a pair of flip-flops before hurrying outside to their home, which adjoined Blane’s property. It was already over ninety degrees out, even at mid-morning, and as I walked I pulled my hair up to get it off my neck, wishing I’d thought to grab an elastic band to hold it in a ponytail.

Mona and Gerard’s house was a homey white ranch with a deep porch. Two identical Adirondack chairs sat in the shade of the porch and a white hammock hung between two large maples in the yard. Petunias bloomed in a huge
flowerpot at the foot of the stairs leading up to the porch. It looked like the home I’d always imagined I’d have when I got married. Someday. Maybe.

I knocked on the front door and after a moment, Gerard answered.

“Kathleen,” he said with a genial smile. “This is a nice surprise. Come in!”

“Hi, Gerard,” I said. “Is Mona around? I need to talk to both of you.”

His smile faded to a look of concern as he took in the tone of my voice. “Of course. Let me go get her.”

The foyer had a hardwood floor and a table held framed photos of Blane and Kade when they were young. I picked one up. It was a candid shot and must have been taken when Blane had returned from a deployment, as he was wearing fatigues. He stood next to Kade, showing him something the camera couldn’t see. The sun was setting behind them, casting a golden glow. Kade wasn’t looking at what Blane was showing him, instead gazing up at him with something close to awe on his face. I tried to guess his age from the picture. Maybe seventeen? Eighteen?

I put the photo back, glancing at the others. There was a posed photo of Blane in his dress uniform that took my breath away. School photos of Kade, culminating in his senior picture. The smirk I’d come to love curved his lips, a knowing glimmer in his blue eyes as he posed, as though he already knew the effect his looks had.

I was still perusing the many photos of Blane and Kade on one wall when Mona appeared, Gerard following her.

“Kathleen,” she said, frowning with worry, “what’s going on? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said before taking a deep breath. “I came to tell you that the police… arrested Blane this morning.” The words were harder to get out than I’d anticipated, nearly choking me.

She stared at me, shock obvious on her face. Gerard put his arm around her shoulders.

“Did you call Charlotte?” he asked.

I nodded. “Kade’s also going to see what he can do.” I decided not to tell them about the danger Blane was in. “I just thought you should know.”

Mona’s eyes grew bright with tears, which made my eyes sting as well. She reached for me and we held each other tight for a moment.

“It’ll be okay,” I found myself comforting her. “He’ll get out of this.”

Gerard patted me on the shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze.

There was a knock at the door. I pulled back from Mona, quickly swiping a hand over my eyes. “I’ll get it,” I said. I headed back to the door, but before I got there, it flew open and I halted in surprise.

A man stood in the doorway, about six feet tall, dressed in dark slacks and a polo shirt. Sunglasses obscured his eyes, but the most important detail was the gun in his hand. When he saw me, he smiled.

“Thought I saw you heading this way.”

I spun around, only to see a second man had entered from the back and now stood behind Mona and Gerard. The gun he held was pointed at Mona.

“I wouldn’t try and make a run for it, if I were you,” he said. “Not unless you want to be responsible for these good people dying.”

I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender, turning sideways so I could see both men. Gerard held tightly to Mona, warily eyeing the man next to them. Mona’s face was tearstained, but she’d stopped crying. Her lips were pressed tightly together.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Why, you, of course,” the man at the door said. “Honestly, I didn’t think it’d be this easy. It seems you’ve a talent for surviving when other people would turn up their toes and die. Now be a good girl and come along.”

“You’re not taking Kathleen,” Gerard said angrily, reaching for me.

The man behind him moved fast, slamming the butt of his gun against the back of Gerard’s head. Mona let out a cry of dismay as he slumped to the floor, falling to her knees next to him.

I took an instinctive step toward them, but was brought up short by a firm hold on my arm. I tried to wrestle my arm away, but couldn’t. The man’s grip tightened on me until it hurt.

“Don’t make us do something you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he threatened from behind me.

“Fine, I’ll come!” I snapped. “Just leave these people alone. They have nothing to do with this.”

“Then let’s go.”

I gave Mona one last look, sending up a prayer that Gerard would be okay. Tears stung my eyes. She looked like she was about to start crying again, too.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to say before the guy dragged me from the house.

A sedan was parked out front, and when we got to it, he popped the trunk.

“Get in,” he said, motioning with his gun.

I stared at the trunk’s empty expanse. “It’s nearly a hundred degrees out!” I protested. “I’ll die in there.”

He just smiled. “Let’s hope you’re tougher than you look. Now get in or you’ll be hot
and
bleeding from a gunshot wound.”

No, didn’t really want that, and I didn’t want them going back inside hurting Mona and Gerard, either, which left me no choice.

The dark metal of the car was already burning hot to the touch as I scrambled inside the trunk. Once I was in, the man with the sunglasses wasted no time in slamming the lid down.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness. When they did, I started looking for the usual glow-in-the-dark trunk release. All newer cars had them—surely this one wouldn’t be an exception. I felt the car start and we began moving.

The heat became stifling fast, the air thick, and I felt the familiar panic creep over me that I’d felt in the closet with Blane and Kade. I struggled not to succumb to my memories. If I didn’t keep thinking straight, I had no shot at getting out of this.

It seemed I could almost hear Kade’s voice in my head:
Take it easy. Breathe.

I was hyperventilating. I could feel it. I closed my eyes, concentrating on what it had felt like to have Kade’s arms
around me, Blane’s body against mine, the two of them surrounding and protecting me. Their strength shoring up mine.

Gradually, my breathing slowed and I opened my eyes. My hand was fisted tightly over the locket around my neck.

Sweat dripped off me and I started looking again for the trunk release. I found it at last, my slick fingers grabbing hold as I waited to see if the car would slow. If I could pop the trunk at a stoplight or something, surely there would be someone nearby who would help a woman climbing out of a car trunk.

The car slowed and then stopped, the engine idling. Figuring this might be my only chance, I pulled the lever.

Nothing happened.