Fugitive Heart

chapter Eleven


God, she could still feel the impression of his body against hers—inside hers, but now they were hurrying in a less fun way, rushing to get their clothes back on and leave. She longed for a leisurely night to map each other’s bodies, to take him up on his offer of tasting her p-ssy, to measure and mold the thickness of his cock with her hands and mouth. But time was their enemy. They couldn’t sprawl in bed like lovers do, and for all she knew, Nick didn’t want that anyway. Maybe he’d rather keep this quick and casual.

But then, he’d said that thing about taking her to New York with him and showing her his city. Was that just a line? She simply couldn’t tell. Her gut told her Nick sincerely liked her and enjoyed spending time with her, but her gut had been wrong about guys before. Quite often, in fact. “Too open and trusting,” Marty had warned her time and again.

“You good?” She couldn’t see Nick’s face in the dark as he spoke, but she already knew the questioning tilt of his left eyebrow as if she’d studied his face for years instead of days. “Need anything? Water? A damp washcloth? I can find something.”

“No, I’m fine,” she said as she drew her underwear up over the wetness between her legs. “Great, in fact. I really needed that. Thank you.”

“Thank you. It was… I wish we had more time. I’d like to go again without rushing this time.” His hand stroked down her back; then he pulled her into a soft, affectionate kiss.

Relief washed through her, and the knot of tension that had started forming in the pit of her stomach released. It wasn’t her imagination. Nick had felt something too—at least enough to make him want to spend more time exploring each another.

She drew away from the kiss, pressed her lips to his rough cheek and sighed against his skin.

“Later, I hope.” She hated to feel so unsure, but who knew what would happen? “Now I suppose we’d better get over to Jake’s. I think stealth is the way to go. He’s going to stonewall if we confront him, and we need to search that old car.”

Her thoughts and emotions veered in a new direction, away from mooning over Nick and toward sniffing out the path of her missing brother like a hound dog on the scent. “I know Elliot. I’m sure this is it. He talked Jake into holding his stuff for him, and what better place to hide it than a vehicle no one will ever drive?”

“Jake’s such a good friend after all these years? Elliot would trust him?” He sounded dubious. She had to wonder if he had no friends he could count on.

“Yeah, I think he would. Jake’s bone-deep loyal. One time he got busted for holding Elliot’s stash and never ratted on him.” And neither had she. Maybe if she’d spoken up back then instead of always enabling Elliot to slip out of trouble, he wouldn’t be the man he was today—someone who refused to be held accountable for his own actions, someone who might get killed because of his own foolishness.

“All right, then. Stealth it is.”





They drove into town and parked down the block from the Greely house. Ames felt a little ridiculous slinking down a suburban street in her cat-burglar suit of a polyester waitress uniform with one of Nick’s dark jackets over it. They were actually about to break and enter, a felony if they were caught. This suddenly seemed extreme, as if they were playing at being spies like children rather than behaving in a grown-up, reasonable manner. Maybe they should simply talk to Jake and get him to let them search the car.

Ames walked a little slower as they snuck up the drive to the detached garage behind the house, but Nick forged ahead. He fiddled with the latch on the side window and beckoned her over. “Think you can wiggle through that?”

He cupped his hands, cradling her foot, and boosted her up. Ames wedged herself into the small opening and shimmied through like a manic squirrel. She dropped into the darkness inside, hitting something on the workbench with her foot and knocking it to the floor. The wrench, or whatever it was, hit with a loud clank. She cursed and held her breath, certain the house lights would come on at any moment and Jake would come rushing outside to find his Fortress of Solitude breached.

The garage was nearly pitch-black, only a bit of light from the small window illuminating the chaos of auto supplies inside. The scent of gasoline, oil and beer reminded her of those teen years when she’d occasionally encroached on the edges of her brother’s life. Ames threaded her way around old tires, an air compressor, a toolbox, and tripped over a stack of fan belts on her way to the door. She opened it, and Nick slipped inside.

Ames led the way to the Mustang. She followed the chassis around to the open hood and switched on the work lamp she’d noticed hanging over the engine earlier.

“Shh!” Nick hissed as if to quiet the brightness. He picked up an oily rag and draped it to hide most of the light, then got to work. The car door opened with a creak, and he slid inside.

Ames crawled into the back and started feeling underneath the front seats for hidden packages. All she found was an ice scraper and crumpled bags that had probably once held 1970s’ burgers.

She leaned over the front seat to watch Nick rifle through the glove box—too small to hold anything more than a few papers, but then maybe Elliot had taken the bulk of the cash with him wherever he’d skated off to. Nick’s search produced nothing but a dog-eared road atlas and the title papers for the vehicle.

“We need to get into the trunk,” he whispered.

“Check the ashtray for the key,” she suggested, but doubted it could be that easy. They’d probably have to crowbar the thing open. But when Nick slid the tray out, the key was nestled in the ash-encrusted interior. “Jackpot!”

Nick snatched up the key and hurried to the back of the automobile. She scrambled out of the car and followed him. If the door hinges creaked loudly, the trunk was even worse. It gave a painful squeal as it opened. Ames could see nothing in the dark interior and cursed herself for not thinking to bring a flashlight. Stealthy nighttime reconnaissance wasn’t her forte.

She stood beside Nick and felt around the jumbled contents, pushing aside a tire iron, some empty boxes, a blanket, some squishy things she didn’t want to think about. Then her fingers brushed up against something hard—rectangular—covered in plastic.

“I got something.” She pulled out the package and walked around the side of the car to examine it in better lighting. A black plastic trash bag was wrapped and taped tightly around the contents. She dragged in a deep breath of motor oil and willed her hands to stop shaking. This might not be evidence of Elliot’s theft, but if it was, she could no longer hold out even the slightest hope that all of this was some huge misunderstanding—that her brother wasn’t deep into illegal activities.

Nick leaned against the car beside her. “You want me to open it?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll do it.”

He nodded as if understanding her need to tear off the covering that hid Elliot’s secret life.

Ames slid her fingernail underneath the tape and peeled it away from the plastic just as the garage door opened. Nick jumped away from the car and the small circle of light, into the deepest shadows.

The overhead lights flicked on, too bright. Jake barged into the garage, a baseball bat ready in his big hands. He caught Ames’s horrified gaze and stopped.

“What the heck?” His mouth hung open, eyes wide in his ruddy face. Broad shoulders flexed under the ripped T-shirt as he gripped the bat.

“No,” yelped Ames, but she was talking to Nick, not Jake. He’d gotten behind Jake and held a gun in his hand. Before she even finished the startled cry, he’d stashed it away under his jacket again. Nick folded his arms, a silent okay, you deal with this. She supposed she should be grateful he moved that fast.

Jake didn’t see what had happened behind him. Or who was there. “Ames, what are you doing here?” He rested the end of the bat on his foot. “I told you I don’t know where Elliot is.” His face brightened. “But did you maybe stop by to see me? That’s fine with me, you know.” He took a step closer to her and finally saw the package she held.

“Oh, hell.” He raised the bat, menacing her again. Big Jake had a spare tire around the middle these days, but he’d been a heck of a football player back in high school.

“Jake, no way. You’re not going to hit me with that bat.”

“Why not? You broke into my garage in the middle of the night; you’re messing around with things you don’t know anything about.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I do know something about this. You’re a good friend to Elliot—better than he deserves. I bet he told you on pain of death not to let anyone have this, right?”

Jake didn’t say anything, just tilted his head to the side.

“It was from him, right? This package.”

Jake finally lowered the bat. He nodded.

Ames’s heart sped up as if she’d finally gotten her hands on her brother and not just whatever he left behind. “The thing is, Jake, it really could be death he was talking about.”

“I said I wouldn’t open it. I promised I’d leave it alone.”

“He’s in over his head, and he’s dragged us in with him. Really, you have to believe me.” And not her idiot brother, who blithely put his loyal friend in danger. Her heart ached for good old Jake.

“Damn it, Ames, didn’t you hear what I said? I promised him. He’s my best friend, and I promised. You have to give it back.” Jake held out his calloused hand and waggled his fingers impatiently. He still clutched the bat in his other hand. Good old Jake suddenly looked a tad dangerous.

“No, she can’t.”

Jake whirled around. Nick had the damned gun out again, down at his side.

Jake stepped forward, raising the bat. Nick lifted the gun and held it across his chest, demonstrating its flat black ugliness. “Come closer to me and I’ll aim this at you.”

Ames groaned, exasperated with them both. “Just let me explain. Elliot’s gotten himself into trouble—”

“Bullshit.” The angry curse seemed very unlike the old Jake she knew. He swung around brandishing the bat. His gray eyes were cold. He looked less like a cute teddy bear and more like a grizzly.

“Ah-ah, Jake. Do anything to her, and I’ll shoot you.”

Ames spoke quickly before the tension between the two men grew worse. “You know how he always wanted to be rich without doing a lot of work? We both know Elliot loved get-rich-quick schemes. He went after money in New York and made some dangerous people angry.”

“I know. Like this guy.” Jake’s broad face creased in worry. Better that than anger. “I should have known you were in trouble, Ames. I could tell you were upset. I’m sorry I didn’t call the police before.”

“No, Nick isn’t one of the bad guys.” And why are you so certain of this? Because you like him and because he turns you on like nobody else? Not exactly an explanation she could offer Jake or even herself.

Jake scowled. “Nick? I thought his name is Sam.”

Oops. “Whatever his name is, he’s going to help me and Elliot.”

“Help himself, more like it.” But he lowered the bat.

Nick tucked the gun away. “Yeah, that’s true, but what I’m doing is best for Elliot too.” He nodded at the slightly greasy package Ames still clutched tight against her chest. “We need to find out what that is. If it belongs to the people Elliot pissed off, we have to give it back.”

“What’ll stop them from going after him then? He said this was leverage. I don’t trust you New Yorkers.”

“It may shock you to learn that killing people isn’t the first response most New Yorkers use to solve problems.”

“Ha-ha, funny guy.” Jake shifted from foot to foot and moved closer to Ames.

“Watch it,” Nick warned behind him.

“Watch yourself, jerk,” he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you really trust him, Ames?” His hot breath on her ear smelled of beer and toothpaste.

She nodded. Jake’s shoulders slumped a bit, and Ames felt her own relax in response.

He straightened and looked around the room. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” Ames touched his arm briefly.

“Elliot didn’t say much, but he kinda said that the guys…um, these guys aren’t like most people.”

“He’s right. The one advantage I have is that I know them.” Nick sounded calm too. “That means I can guess what they’ll do and maybe I can even talk to them. And I hope that’s enough. Maybe it’ll be enough.” Nick raised his hands in a conciliatory, palms-out gesture. “Let’s take a look and see what Elliot left behind.”

He nodded at Ames, and she put the package on the hood of the car. Jake and Nick stood on either side, as if getting too close to the package or each other could reheat the tension. She was fine with that.

She finished slitting the tape on the garbage bag. Even before she’d unwrapped it, she smelled something expensive—leather and the slightly sweet scent of money.

“Wow,” breathed Jake.

She unwrapped stacks of bills, and on top of them lay a leather-bound book and a flash drive. “That has to be thousands of dollars,” Jake said. “Holy shit.”

Nick reached over and picked up a stack. He flipped through. “Nonsequential. He must have taken the rest with him. He couldn’t carry all this.”

Ames sighed. “Maybe he’s like a squirrel. Burying bits of his treasure all over the place so that if he loses some of it, he can go back and get the rest.”

“He knew I’d keep his important stuff safe.” Jake sounded proud.

“Except it’s not really his.”



Nick gingerly picked up the leather-bound book with his fingertips and flipped it open. He recognized it right away. “Yup. Here’s the information you don’t put on a computer. All here.” Except the page he’d left at Nick’s house.

Ames came close and peered over his shoulder at the careful block letters, some printed in ink, others in pencil. He wanted to put the thing down and grab her instead. Maybe if he held her, that grim, ugly feeling would pass.

She pointed at a series of letters and numbers. “It’s nonsense.”

“Code. Nothing too difficult, because we’re not talking geniuses here.” He ran a finger above the list. “Simple substitution.”

“What is it?”

“My guess? Contacts, real sources of income, lists of actual income. They have to hide from the law and from the IRS. But they have to know what’s coming in and from where. Monthly accounts. Your brother is a real moron.”

“You said that already.” Jake picked up a little plastic object. “What’s this?”

“Flash drive.” Nick held out his hand. If Jake gave him any more shit, he’d tie him up and put him in the trunk of the rental car—for his own good. He did not need any crap tonight.

Luckily Jake had read his ugly mood and dropped the drive onto Nick’s palm. He jerked a thumb at the door. “Maybe we should go inside. I got a computer.”

“No. We don’t have time. We need to track down the owners before they find us.”

Ames’s voice, low and worried, came from behind him. “Are you planning on some sort of confrontation?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Once upon a time, he’d actually liked Albert Esposito, his ole buddy Bert. But business came first for guys like the Espositos. Friendship took a backseat to business. Hell, friendship wasn’t even along for the ride.

“I hope we can all come out of this…” He stopped before saying alive. “I’m planning on coming forward with this money and information. Even though Elliot and the bulk of the cash are long gone, we might get some brownie points,” he explained to Jake.

Ames gave a little laugh. “What do we win if we get enough of those points?”

Okay, he’d stop trying to candy-coat the truth. “The chance to keep breathing.” He paused. “Jake, can Ames spend the night here?”

Nick hated asking, but the Greely place was probably the safest spot in all of Arnesdale for Ames. Bert might know about Ames now, but he wouldn’t know about Elliot’s contacts in Arnesdale, like his friendship with Jake, which was exactly why Elliot had felt safe leaving his loot here temporarily.

“Of course. Come on inside, Ames. I’ll set you up in the guest room. I’ll think of some reason to tell Mom—your apartment’s got a roach infestation or something.”

“Just a minute. I don’t need the two of you planning my life. No way am I hiding out. Elliot’s problem has become my problem. I’m sticking with Nick till this is over, one way or another.”

“No!” Jake spoke in unison with Nick.

Nick didn’t like how excited the guy was about Ames staying in his house. It wasn’t as if Jake would make a move on her or that Ames was at all interested in him, but a surge of protectiveness made Nick want to keep her with him after all. What the hell kind of caveman mentality was that?

“Look, Ames, I don’t want to get into another argument with you, but it’s safer this way. Not just for you, for me too.” He spoke calmly, patiently, rationally, but inside he was seething with frustration at the woman.

“How’s that?” Her hands were on her hips, braced for a fight.

“Like I told you, I know Bert from way back. I think I can talk my way out of trouble and maybe even get him to stop going after Elliot for the rest of the cash, but it’s going to be a delicate negotiation, and easier accomplished without you there. He’ll feel threatened, afraid you might go to the feds or something.” He stepped close to her and rested a hand on her arm, feeling the rigid tension. “Please, let me handle this alone.”

“And afterward? If everything goes all right, you leave for New York.” Her lips pressed tight, and Nick realized she was struggling to keep her emotions under control.

He shook his head. “Not necessarily. Not right away. I got a house here, after all, and it’s not as if I have a job to go back to. Gotta say, it’s probably better if I stay away from New York. Maybe Bert will let me go for old times’ sake, but I wouldn’t count on the same treatment from his family.”

“Even though you helped find their stuff and returned it.”

He nodded. “I’m caught up in Elliot’s mess, and if they can’t find him to make an example of, they might just use me.”

She took her hands from her hips only to cross her arms over her chest, another confrontational pose. “Fine. I get your point about seeing the man alone, but I could at least hide nearby. If things start to go bad, I can call nine-one-one for backup. You shouldn’t go into this alone.”

Nick was touched, truly touched, and utterly annoyed that she refused to simply do what he told her to do. “That’s not a bad idea, but—”

She held up a hand. “No buts. I’m not some fainting maiden you have to protect, and I won’t do anything stupid like barge into the middle of your meeting. Like I said, I’ll just be close in case you need help.”

“We should tell the cops everything,” Jake spoke up. “Elliot’s my best friend, but this is too much. Hit men? No way. We gotta bail on this right now.”

“No!” This time it was Ames who chimed in with Nick.

“Please, Jake,” she said. “Going to the cops was my first response too, but it won’t help keep Elliot—or Nick—safe. Let Nick see this through. If everything goes well, the criminals, um, the original owners can return with their package to whatever it is they do. I don’t even want to know. It’ll be over, and maybe Elliot can live his life wherever he’s gone. If he comes back for his stash, we’ll deal with him ourselves.”

“I’m coming with you, then,” Jake said. “I’ll wait with Ames. Once you figure out where you’re going to meet this guy, we’ll hide and watch.”

“Get him to meet you in a public place, a restaurant or a bar, and we can sit there in plain sight. He wouldn’t know who we are,” Ames added.

“Fine,” Nick snapped, losing his cool at last. He wanted to shake off these two but they were stuck to him like burrs. “But first I’ve got to call Bert and arrange a meeting.”

He checked his watch. It was nearly two a.m., but he didn’t think Bert would complain about being woken up. It would be the first time Nick had contacted him since leaving New York. Bert probably thought he’d simply skipped town. Time to let him know Nick was fulfilling his promise and had found the ledger and money, if not Elliot.

He looked back and forth between Ames and Jake. “I need a little privacy for this. Can you guys go in the house and have some coffee or something?”

Ames narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to take off while we’re in there.” It was a command, not a question.

“No. I promise.” He held her gaze, those beautiful forget-me-not eyes, and lied through his teeth.

She nodded and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss, only a light brush of her lips, yet it set his heart hammering—and made Jake stare at them.

“I’ll be right in,” Nick promised.

“Okay. See you in a few minutes.” Ames smiled brightly, snatched up the package and sashayed toward the door.

Curses. Foiled again. Nick grinned inside as she thwarted his evil plan to leave her behind for her own good.

The door closed behind Jake. Nick pulled out his cell phone and pressed Bert’s number.

It rang only three times before a familiar gravelly voice answered. “Yeah?”

“It’s Nick. I told you I’d get back what Elliot stole. Now I’ve got it—the most important part, anyway. I’ll be starting back to New York today to deliver it as promised.”

“Don’t bother. I’m on my way to Wisconsin. I’ll meet you,” Bert answered shortly. “What about Jensen?”

For the first time in hours, Nick could breathe normally. Bert was willing to deal. They were all probably safe. Probably.

“Gone. I don’t know where, but I’d guess out of the country. Does it matter so long as you’ve got the ledger and some of the money back?”

There was a pause in which Nick heard the unspoken answer—of course it mattered—and then Bert said, “Where do you want to meet?”

“There’s a diner called the Back Porch. The parking lot there.”

“Too public. Maybe a field outside of town,” Bert suggested.

“Too isolated.”

Bert gave an annoyed grunt. “You want to do this right in front of the Podunk police station?”

“I know a place. An empty house in the country. But I’m going to need some kind of insurance. I…” He paused, trying to decide how to give himself a bit of leverage without pissing off Bert even more. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but I gotta tell you, Bert, I don’t feel real confident you’re not going to end me. So I’ll give you the ledger and money I found, but I’m holding back the flash drive.”

“F*ck that. You’ll give everything or no deal.”

“You understand my position. Your family makes an example of anyone who crosses them, I get that, but I had nothing to do with this other than having the misfortune of rooming with Elliot Jensen in college. I’m not the one who stole from you.”

Another pause and then Bert sighed. “I believe you, and I haven’t forgotten our history, but this isn’t up for negotiation. Bring me every damn thing you’ve got, or you’re going to have to pay for what your pal did. Now tell me the address of the house.”