Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) (15 page)

“A week isn’t really living together, Tony.”

“Well, okay, it isn’t. But it feels right and I was wondering, maybe we should start thinking about … start talking about whether we want to do this on a more long-term basis.”

“Do what? Live together?”

“We said we’d work things out as we went along and … ”

“You’re about to walk out the door for two days and you want to talk about living together?” Pulling away from him, she added, “Everything’s been fine the way it is. You were the one who said we should just enjoy what we had and not try to overthink things.”

“All I’m suggesting … ”

“I know what you’re suggesting. But I don’t know why you’re bringing it up now.” She could feel tears beginning to form and she swallowed hard to keep them from falling.

“What’s going on, Margo? Why’re you crying?”

She moved to the farthest corner of the couch. “Okay, it’s been good for the past week. But it’s not real. Our real lives are three thousand miles apart. On top of that, we have careers with time schedules that don’t mesh very well. I don’t know if we can even find jobs in the same place.”

“Those are the same things about geography and careers you’ve brought up before, things we can work at fixing. I don’t buy that’s what’s bothering you. What’s this really about?”

She was silent, twisting a ring on her right hand, not looking at him. Finally she did. “Do you remember much about the year of my father’s trial?”

“Your father’s trial? What does that have to do with … ?”

“What my father did always has something to do with how I look at things, Tony, don’t you know that? It was an awful year, except for your kindness that summer.”

“I don’t remember being kind. I remember kissing a beautiful girl in a bikini.”

“Great. You didn’t take that any more seriously than you’re taking this.”

“This is how I take things seriously, Margo. I thought you knew … ”

“Okay, you’re taking it seriously. It’s another one of those things that keep tripping me up. Somehow I keep expecting you to be, I don’t know, like … ”

“You?”

“Maybe that’s part of it. We approach things so differently. I think everything through from every angle before I make a decision. You jump in. You had this amazing family life growing up. I had none to speak of and ran away from what I did have like I was being chased by demons from hell.”

“You left Philly because of your family? I thought you wanted to see what the West Coast was like.”

“I didn’t leave Philly. I escaped. I gave up Yale and Columbia and Princeton and every place I was accepted to go to college, the places I’d dreamed of going all through high school, to go to the University of Washington, so I could get away from being Kenny Keyes’ daughter. From being Daisy Keyes.”

“Who the hell is Daisy Keyes?”

“That’s what my grandmother called me. That’s who I pictured myself as. Daisy Keyes was a sad nothing, powerless over her own life, at the mercy of the people around her who were in control — my father, the prosecutors, the press.”

She ran her hand through her hair and looked directly at him. “I killed Daisy on that plane to Seattle and swore I’d always be in control of my life. And I’ve made good on that promise.” She dropped her eyes. “I won’t go back to being Daisy again. Not for anyone. Not even for you.”

“Go back to being Daisy? What in God’s name are you talking about?”

After a long pause, she answered. “At first I thought this feeling was just a reaction to kissing you, making love with you. But now it’s more like … like … events spinning out of control, things running away with me. All I can imagine is selling my house, changing my job, losing my name, losing my career, being responsible for kids if we have them. Not being in control of my life again. And I’m afraid.”

“Afraid? Of me?”

“No, of course I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what loving you means.”

“But we’ve never talked about any of that and I’ve certainly never asked you to do any of those things.”

“I know you haven’t. But isn’t that what happens when people pair up? Get serious? Isn’t that what people expect?” She stared at her hands, clenched into fists.

“People, Margo? Or you overthinking everything. Running it into the ground.” He ran his thumb back and forth across his mouth. Finally, he said, “I’m not sure what to say. Most of what I can think of would probably make it worse. So, I’ll just ask one question.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll like the answer but — do you want us to be together when I get back?”

She kept her eyes down. “I don’t know what I want other than to stop feeling afraid.”

“That’s the answer then.” He stood up. “I’ll be in Long Beach for the next two days. When I come back, I’ll check into the Marriott where the other guys are staying. Should I call you?”

“If you still want to.”

He didn’t respond, but ran the steps to the second floor. He returned with his suitcase.

“Tony … ” She finally looked at him, at his back, as he opened the front door. “I’ve hurt you and I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. It’s just that … ”

“I know you didn’t mean to, Margo. But you did.” Without looking back, he slammed the door and was gone.

“No, Kiki, that’s not what I asked for. I asked for the depositions on the Smithson case. This is the Smythden … ”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked you to write it down. They sound alike.” Kiki snatched the file from Margo’s outstretched hand. “Jeesh. I’ll be glad when Tony’s back and your disposition improves.”

“I wouldn’t count on that happening.” Margo busied herself with her computer.

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, ’cause that always helps, not talking about it.”

“Just get me the right file, please.”

Kiki opened her mouth to respond but the phone rang and Margo shooed her out of the office and answered it.

“I need you over here, counselor,” Sam Richardson said. “Tony’s back and we have to get things set up for the meeting with Viktor.”

“Sam, can’t you do it without me, maybe find an officer who looks like me and let her meet him?”

“Viktor apparently knows who you are. He expects Margo Keyes, not some police officer who’s your height and weight.”

“Then how about you doing it with me? He won’t … ”

“He gave you a yard-long list of requirements to make this happen including who you could bring. If we change anything, he’ll bolt and you know it. Look, I don’t care what’s going on in your personal life. I only want two things. First, I want you to get your ass over here so we can get this taken care of. And second, I’d like you to act like the professional I know you are.”

“When?”

“When do I want you to act like a grown-up?”

“When do you want me over there?”

“Half an hour work?”

“I’ll be there.”

• • •

The room where they were to meet was empty when she got there. Less than five minutes later, Tony walked in. He stopped in the doorway when he saw her. She was sure the expression on her face reflected how nervous she was.

“Hi,” she said. She hated how her voice quivered. “How was Long Beach?”

He dropped a notebook on the table at the opposite end from where she was sitting. “Didn’t see much of it except the port and police headquarters.”

“Did it help with what you’re working on?”

“Some.”

The arrival of Sam and Danny along with a few other members of the task force relieved her of having to think of something else to say.

“Okay, people, let’s get this organized,” Sam said. Most of the task force members were clustered near Sam. Only Margo and Tony were at the ends of the table. He glanced at them. “Could one of you move so I don’t have to look back and forth like I’m watching a tennis match?” After a few seconds, both Tony and Margo got up and moved to chairs directly across from him. “That’s better. Tony, anything from Long Beach we should know?”

“I know why he put off meeting with Margo. He was in Long Beach to meet with a guy who’d agreed to sell Genentec information. Guy got cold feet at the last minute and went to the FBI. They taped his conversation arranging the handover. But Viktor never showed.” His eyes slid over to Margo, then went back to Sam. “This morning I heard from Long Beach. They found the Genentec source. Shot.”

“Christ, this guy piles up bodies like hay bales. Margo, I want to know where you are this weekend and I’m upping the patrols out on Marine Drive.”

“For once, I agree with you, Sam.”

“Okay, what Tony just told us makes it even more important that we take him down on Monday. Margo, you know what you’re supposed to do. Tony, you’re not supposed to come armed but I want a weapon in there with you. He’ll ask you to get rid of it but at least it’ll be within reach.”

“Where’ll you be, Sam?” Margo asked.

“Across Marine Drive in that industrial site. I’m concerned that it’s not an easy place to get buttoned down. He can see anyone on Marine Drive and the neighborhood to the south is a rabbit warren where we can hide, but we can’t see a fucking thing in the park.”

“No place in the park itself to stash a few cops?” Tony asked.

“We’ll have a couple guys out there dressed as county maintenance men but I’d be willing to bet he’ll have the park swept by some of his folks before he decides to go there himself.”

“Then how’re you going to get him, Sam?” Margo asked.

“Tracer on the key ring with the flash drive. We’ll follow him when he leaves. As soon as you do the swap, you and Tony get the hell out of there. Let us take care of the rest.”

“I have no intention of hanging around,” Margo said.

As they walked out the door of the meeting room, Sam said, “Now all I have to do is find a way to get a reporter to sit on a story.”

“I have a couple good contacts at the
Oregonian
, can I help?” Margo said.

“It’s not the Big
O
. It’s
Willamette Week
. A story about Russian mobster and gang activity in Portland is about to come out and it could make Viktor nervous enough to be a no show.”

“I can talk to Fiona, if you’d like.”

“Amanda tried but it was a no-go. But, sure, you can try. Just be careful what you tell her.”

“Before I call her, I’ll talk to Jeff, see what advice he has. Maybe you can check with your boss, too. Ask Chris if we can tell her we’ll talk to her before anyone else when it’s wrapped up so they’re first on the web with the story.”

“Sure, fine. I’ll see what L.T. says and call Jeff.”

After it was all cleared with the Police Bureau and the DA’s office, Margo called Fiona.

“Margo,” she said, “is this important or can I get back to you? I’m on deadline for a big story.”

“I think it’s your story I want to talk to you about.”

There was a momentary silence. “You don’t know what I’m working on, do you?”

“About it an hour ago I heard that
Willamette Week
was about to break a story on Russian mob activities and their connection with Russian gangs here. It sounded like something you’d be working on. Are you?”

Another silence. “Why’re you interested? It doesn’t connect with any of your cases, does it?”

“Nothing that I’m prosecuting, no, but, remember at the gallery? I said Tony was here on business? We were vague about it because we didn’t want two reporters sniffing around just yet. But there’s a big story in this, the kind that wins prizes.”

“Why do you keep saying ‘we’? How’re you involved?”

Now it was Margo’s turn to be silent for a moment. “Okay, listen, this is so far off the record, you can’t see the record with a telescope. Promise?”

Fiona laughed. “Okay, girlfriend. I promise.”

“I’m mixed up in it because I accidently swapped messenger bags with someone on my way back from Philly. She ended up dead and the guy we’re after, a Russian, thinks I have what she was trying to sell to him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Proprietary information from a big Northwest company. That’s what this is all about, intellectual property theft … industrial espionage.”

“I’m writing about Russian gangs. But I’ve gotten an earful about the Russian mob. Are they the ones doing the dirty work?”

“Yeah, they’re also responsible for, shall we say, eliminating inconvenient people. Two back East, another couple in California. Sam Richardson has one here … ”

“The Nike guy? So that’s what Amanda was hinting around about. I couldn’t figure it out.”

“Well, I’m going to come right out and ask — can we get you to hold the story? We might be close to getting the guy who’s the local contact with the Russian mob but if your piece hits the streets, it could blow us out of the water. And, not that I’m trying to guilt you into doing it, but I have a big fat target on my back because the guy thinks I have something he wants.”

“Right. Not that you’re trying to guilt me into anything.”

“Seriously, is there any way you can back-burner your story? Give us room to maneuver and I promise you I’ll talk to you first when it’s settled and you’ll get first crack at the Portland Police Bureau team, too.”

“This is way beyond my pay grade. I’ll have to talk to my editor. But if he agrees, you’ll owe me, big time. Trying to fill that news hole won’t be fun.”

“I know. I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Margo was home when Fiona called to report her editor had said he was inclined to err on the side of publication but he’d talk to his publisher and get back to them. Margo thanked her profusely and gave Fiona Sam’s phone number.

Half an hour later, Sam called to report success. Ben Stein had reluctantly agreed to hold the story. But if he found out another paper was on the verge of breaking it, he was running it online. It was the best he could offer. Sam took the deal.

Margo was about to hang up when Sam said, “Your friend’s not a lot of fun to be around right now. How’re you doing?”

She sighed. “I’m all right, I guess.”

“Amanda says if you need a sympathetic ear, give her a call. She’s good at keeping her mouth shut and her ears open. That last was me talking, not her.”