You Can't Escape (2 page)

Bull. Shit. All of it.

From Jordanna’s point of view, dear old Dad was a lech, and a pedophile, and a whole host of other things that forced Jordanna to move away from home as soon as possible. She’d learned from an early age that she couldn’t count on anyone other than herself. Even her older sister, Emily, had insisted it was her own fault she had been in their father’s bed. Emily had assured her that she was sleepwalking again, and had just wandered into Dad’s bedroom. She’d insisted that she’d just been dreaming about their mother and had climbed into the bed, looking for her. When Jordanna had objected, Emily had then accused Jordanna of being just as screwed up as everyone thought she was.
She
was the one who needed help.

Jordanna had stubbornly kept to her story. She’d heard Emily scream out Dayton as if she were scared—but Jordanna’s insistence did no good. No one had believed her, and less than a year later Emily had lost her life in an automobile accident along the treacherous switchback roads above Rock Springs on a particularly cold and icy day. Her car slid over a steep ridge and tumbled down a cliff side. Heartbroken, Jordanna had stood as far away from her father and the rest of her family as possible at the funeral. She’d felt like a pariah, and why not? Everyone thought she bore the Treadwell Curse, though they wouldn’t say so to her face.

And then while a cold, January rain beat down on them, her younger sister, Kara, had moved up next to her and whispered in a strained voice, “It wasn’t an accident.”

“What do you mean?” Jordanna demanded.

“Somebody killed Emily,” Kara had responded.

“Our father?” Jordanna suggested. But Kara had merely shrugged and shaken her head. They had both gazed across the plot where the pallbearers were laying their sister to rest, and, feeling her father’s eyes on her, Jordanna had set her jaw and vowed to get to the truth someday . . . when she was stronger and the time was right.

She’d moved out of the house at seventeen and ended up rooming with a group of students who attended Portland State. She’d then worked her way through night classes at the university as well, majoring in journalism and communications. She’d also taken courses in criminal investigation and spent her days working at coffee shops and restaurants. Eventually, under a pseudonym, she began a blog that was a newsletter about victims of crimes, what happened to them afterward, and maybe what caused the crime in the first place, and had managed to turn her work into various newspapers. To date, she’d been published in both the
Laurelton Register
and the
Lake Chinook Review
, and it was her dream to hit the big leagues. She’d been working toward that end for ten years, spurred by the ill treatment she’d received in her own hometown, bent on proving herself free of the “crazy” Treadwell Curse. So far, she’d done a fairly decent job of it, ignoring or flouting rules along the way. Her only hiccup had been her own hero worship of another investigative reporter, Jay Danziger, a man she’d literally followed for his insight, acumen, and success in digging into the truth. Tracking him had led to the madness of her current situation: breezing into Laurelton General and passing herself off as his wife. It was the reason for her thumping heart and sweating palms when she’d stated in a low, fast voice to the receptionist, “Tell Officer McDermott that Carmen Danziger is here.”

“Ma’am?” the receptionist had asked blankly.

“Jay Danziger’s my husband.” She’d uttered the lie quick and sharp. No gatekeeper was going to stop her. “One of the bombing victims. I was called.” She was amped enough by her charade not to have to manufacture the trembling of her lower jaw.

“Uh . . . yes . . .” The receptionist looked around for help. Chaos surrounded them. Though the bombing had been over twenty-four hours earlier, Laurelton General had received the bulk of the casualties and was swarming with extra medical staff and, of course, the police. Jordanna had made an educated guess that Jay Danziger had been brought here. She’d known he had been at the explosion of the building in downtown Laurelton that had sent the community scrambling while wailing sirens and dust and debris filled the air. She’d known because she’d seen him there, had been across the street when the bomb had blown. The concussion of the blast had knocked her off her feet, but she’d managed to pick herself up. She’d fumbled for her phone, her ears still ringing, poised to call 9-1-1, but then realized she could already hear the wail of distant sirens. Instead, she’d staggered to her Toyota RAV4 and driven to her apartment.

After cleaning herself up, she’d stared into the bathroom mirror and asked herself what had happened. She hoped to God Jay Danziger was still alive. The shudders that racked her body at the thought had brought her to her knees.
Those goddamn Saldanos!
she’d thought, filled with fury. And that’s when she’d hatched her crazy plan. If Danziger was still alive, and she fervently hoped to hell he was, she was going to find him, interview him, and convince him of the Saldanos’ evil. She’d been casually following . . . okay, half stalking . . . the man around for weeks, catching him outside the gates of his home or tooling after him as he met with members of the Saldano family, the corporate crime family with tendrils in more businesses and government offices than a haystack had pieces of straw. Until Danziger had gotten swept up in the Saldano net of greed, Jordanna had admired the man. Dreamed about him a little, if the truth be known, as he was damned attractive. But his biggest appeal was his freewheeling investigative style and the results he produced. That was number one.

And he was married. Which was just as well, really, because she was not interested in a married man. She only wanted Danziger’s story, and by God, she was going to get it if it killed her. She looked enough like Carmen Danziger to bluff her way inside while everything was in a state of flux. Carmen mostly stayed out of the spotlight, but Jordanna knew she wore her long, brunette hair in a messy bun and that when she did go out, she favored tight dresses and the highest heels imaginable for a woman to still be able to walk. In the few hours since the bombing, Jordanna had purchased both at the nearest mall. She’d damn near broken an ankle hurrying into the hospital, but luckily, no one had noticed.

“Call him,” Jordanna had urged the receptionist, dabbing at the real tears that formed at the corners of her eyes. Fear. Or excitement. At least it was working for her.

“Do you have ID?”

Shit.
“I . . .” She pretended confusion, gazing back through the glass double doors to the parking lot.

At that moment, Officer McDermott himself had stalked through the reception area. She’d seen him on the news earlier and she knew he was part of the investigation. Fully crying, she grabbed his arm. “Please tell me my husband’s alive.”

He gazed down at her impatiently. “Who is your husband, ma’am?”

“Jay . . . Jay Danziger? Is he here? Please . . .”

If Carmen Danziger had actually already been at the hospital, Jordanna would have probably been arrested. She’d been pretty sure she was safe, though, because she’d seen Carmen with a ton of luggage heading to the airport a few days earlier. Jordanna had hoped she was still far, far away and hadn’t returned yet. But Jordanna figured if she was caught in her masquerade, so be it. It was still worth a try. Recklessness had served her well in the past and she wasn’t going to play it safe and miss a golden opportunity.

“Mrs. Danziger.” McDermott had looked like he wanted to peel her off his arm.

“Is he here? Is he all right?”

“He’s still recovering from surgery.”

She’d pressed a hand to her mouth and shaken her head, letting emotion overcome her.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We have a lot of injuries. Check with the hospital staff.”

Jordanna had nodded, releasing him. The bombing had taken place at the Saldanos’ main company headquarters, where, according to general speculation and Jay Danziger’s investigation prior to his being seduced by the family, the Saldanos received and shipped all manner of illegal drugs. Max Saldano and the entire family hotly denied this accusation. They were honest businesspeople involved in importing and exporting commodities from Mexico and Central and South America. They were
not
criminals.

More bullshit.

Danziger was a longtime friend of Max Saldano, the man who had introduced him to his sister, Carmen. Jay and Carmen had already been married by the time Jordanna had begun admiring Danziger’s journalistic style. It was only after the Saldanos came under suspicion of criminal activity, all the while being championed by Jay Danziger, that Jordanna had begun to think her idol had feet of clay.
Money involved
, Jordanna had told herself darkly.
Lots of money
. And Jay Danziger had rolled over for it, much like her father had when he’d married into the Markum family after Jordanna’s mother’s death.

As soon as those thoughts circled her mind again, Jordanna had shut them off, concentrating instead on discovering Danziger’s room, which she’d been unsure how to find until she overheard two nurses talking about him and had followed them to the fourth floor. Her tight green dress and heels had gotten her noticed, but the camouflage had helped connect her as Danziger’s wife. The nurses had believed her when she’d said Officer McDermott, and a doctor she’d seen mentioned on the news, had sent her to the fourth floor. It had been almost too easy, which had struck her as odd. That’s when she’d first thought that Danziger might be in danger. None of the Saldanos had been at their building when it exploded. It had been virtually empty of family members, though a number of employees had been hurt from the fallout. The initial theory was that a rival group had bombed the Saldanos to send a violent message, though the family patriarch, Victor Saldano, had scoffed at the suggestion.

In her disguise as Carmen, Jordanna had decided to alert Danziger to possible danger. She might not trust his motives any longer, but he’d damn near died because of his association with the Saldanos. That was clear. He’d been the one in the line of fire, not Maxwell, nor his father, nor any other Saldano, for that matter. So, she’d entered his room cautiously, but found him asleep. Uncertain for a moment, she’d decided to sit down and wait to see if he woke up. She’d sat tensely in the chair next to his bed, all the time feeling a ticking clock inside her head, like the countdown to a bomb, warning her that Carmen Saldano Danziger or someone who knew her was bound to show up any time.

But then Jay Danziger had awoken and she’d just started . . . improvising.

And so had he.

She looked at him now. At the handsome face with the two lines of worry etched between his brows even in sleep. She felt an emotional pull inside herself, one she desperately needed to control. Did he understand about the danger? Maybe he knew more about it than she did. He certainly hadn’t argued with her. In fact, he’d put himself in the care of a stranger without a qualm, no questions asked, and she’d committed herself to getting him out of here. With her mind on the old farmstead in Rock Springs where she’d grown up—a place she’d avoided for years—she’d told him she would get him somewhere safe.

She just hoped to hell she could deliver on that promise.

Chapter Two

Jordanna stood by the northeast-facing window of Jay Danziger’s hospital room, staring through the blinds to the parking lot below. It was actually two separate lots; the one toward the north side was a level lower than the one on the east. The hospital sat on a hillside, and the main entrance and emergency room were on the top level, while most of the parking that surrounded the other three sides of the building step-staired its way down toward the rear of the building.

If I park back here, I can get away without being seen
, she thought. There was no way she was getting Danziger through the main entrance without press and questions and all kinds of commotion. But one of the rear entrances might work for the stealth assignment she’d tasked herself with. Were there security cameras around? Possibly. She couldn’t see any from this angle, but it was amazing how much of today’s world was under surveillance. She would just have to assume cameras were watching, and that their progress to her car would be recorded. If anyone then chose to go so far as to try to find Danziger once he left the hospital, something she sensed could easily happen, the cameras would catch her on video.

She exhaled a long, soft breath. Some Saldano Industries employees had also been hurt, but none of them had suffered the injuries Danziger had. The bomb had been on the other side of the wall from the entrance where Danziger had been standing. Though others had been hit by flying shrapnel, no one else had been close to the explosion’s source. Jordanna subscribed to the “there are no coincidences” theory, and in her mind that meant the bomb had been meant for Jay Danziger.

She glanced again toward his unconscious body. He was breathing evenly now, but since she’d been standing vigil, he’d gasped a couple of times in his sleep. Whether this was from an injury or some uncomfortable memory or dream, she couldn’t tell. Either way, every time it happened it caused her breath to catch in her throat and her heart to race.

She paced to the other side of the room and cautiously peered around the door and into the hallway. A woman’s voice, one of the nurse’s, was complaining from the nurse’s station around the corner. Someone hadn’t done as she’d ordered her and it sounded as if there would be hell to pay. It reminded Jordanna of her aunt Evelyn, who found great joy in recounting every slight and misery she’d been subjected to, whether real or imagined, to anyone with one good ear. She was a grievance collector of the first order.

Needing to use the restroom, Jordanna turned down the hall, teetering a bit on one heel. She had half a mind to take off the shoes. They’d served their purpose and now she needed to walk. Before she could make that decision, however, she heard someone coming from behind and just managed to reach the corner before being seen. Her heart jolted when she looked back and spied two policemen, McDermott and another younger man, entering Jay Danziger’s room, and a cold frisson slid down her back as she considered what would have happened if she’d had to speak to them. She didn’t trust that McDermott would continue to think she was Carmen.