Then You Hide (19 page)

“Because you’re the kindest, sexiest, sweetest man I ever met.”

“Yeah?” He fought a satisfied smile, contentment rolling over him. “Thanks.”

“And you’ve killed four people in cold blood.”

“You just forgave me that past.”

“Yes. But forgiving and forgetting are two different things.”

His head dropped onto the pillow again. What did he expect? All the affection in the world couldn’t erase the truth.

Saturday mornings were a little different from most workdays at the Bullet Catchers headquarters. Lucy relished the atmosphere in her home on Saturdays, when as many of her staff members as possible gathered to review the status of ongoing projects and receive new assignments.

Sometimes as many as six or eight of her staff arrived in the morning, and the late afternoon often transformed into something social and fun. If Johnny Christiano was in town, he’d cook something outrageous. Dan Gallagher would invariably start a touch football game, which, if Alex Romero and Max Roper were both involved, could turn into a friendly blood-and-testosterone bath on her lawn.

Sometimes Chase Ryker would join them, as he had a few months ago, when he brought Arianna Killian into the company as their first psychic crime solver.

Earlier this morning, Lucy’s former assistant Racquel had arrived, glowing from her year of travel with Grigori Nyekovic, to announce she’d become the Russian millionaire’s fiancée.

Anticipating the afternoon as much as the morning’s work, Lucy stepped away from the window to gather her notes for the conference call with Wade, but she stopped when a dark sedan pulled into the driveway below.

She checked her watch. Imagine that. He was on time.

Lucy curled her fingers into fists as she watched Jack Culver step out of the car, and even from there, she could see him take a slow, deep breath.

Why did the two of them always need extra oxygen when they were in the same room?

At her desk, she called up the day’s agenda on her BlackBerry, just to make sure Avery had sent the memo out exactly as she’d asked. This week’s agenda included a list of all attendees, so Dan wouldn’t be shell-shocked by the sight of the man who’d almost killed him.

The heads-up gave him fair warning if he wanted to skip today’s meeting. He was deep on a security analysis for a company in the city, which provided an easy excuse for not coming. He rarely missed a Saturday, though. In fact, he was usually the last to leave.

So maybe he would show up and take his seat at her right, reminding all of the Bullet Catchers, and
former
Bullet Catchers, of his unofficial position in the company.

She buzzed her assistant. “Jack Culver just arrived. Please take him straight to the war room. Miranda and Fletch are already in there, I believe.”

“They are.”

“And I probably don’t need to tell you this, but—”

“Don’t tell Jack anything, no matter how much he tries to con it out of me?”

Lucy laughed. “I guess I
don’t
need to tell you.”

“Don’t worry, Luce. I have his number.”

Stronger and smarter women than Avery Cole had thought they had Jack’s number; then they…lost it. “Just be sure he doesn’t leave with yours.”

Avery chuckled. “Got it.”

Lucy scooped up her files and breezed into the war room from her library entrance. Everyone was dressed down, but that didn’t change the charged atmosphere in the room, where flat-panel monitors on every wall showed information key to every assignment.

Sage Valentine, Lucy’s niece and Johnny’s live-in girlfriend, ran the war room with remarkable organization, having transferred her skills as an investigative reporter into becoming an extraordinary manager of the Bullet Catchers’ research and investigation department. She’d single-handedly made what was once just a computer room with a wall map into the high-tech heart of the company, including the Bullet Catchers Locator System, which fed a constant stream of information about the location and status of everyone in the company.

The only thing that looked like the old conference room was the fifteen-foot-long antique mahogany table in the center of the room, and right now, that table was covered with some newspapers, a map of the Caribbean, a picture of Vanessa Porter, several computer printouts, a few birth certificates, and…doughnuts.

“Hungry, Fletch?” She sat at the head of the table, her gaze flickering over the pink and white Dunkin’ Donuts box, then up to meet the twinkle in his amber eyes.

“They’re for Jack,” Fletch said in his thick Aussie accent, his dimpled smile telling her that he was just looking to make his mate comfortable in what was surely going to be an uncomfortable situation. “They’re his weakness.”

“One of them,” Lucy said dryly as she shifted her attention to Miranda. The fragile beauty looked stronger every day since her ordeal in California. Fletch had put a spark in her gray-blue eyes and pink in her chiseled cheekbones. “Miranda, is there any news on Eileen?”

“Some,” she said, brushing back a wavy lock of auburn hair. “The doctors have agreed to forgo the heavy doses of chemo that usually precede a bone-marrow transplant. I’ve optimistically assured them we’d have a potential donor very soon.” Her gaze shifted to the maps of the Caribbean in the center of the table. “After Vanessa takes a blood test, assuming things are positive, they can perform the procedure the moment Eileen’s out of a coma. Until then…” She glanced at Fletch.

“They think since Eileen has responded once to Miranda’s voice, she might again, so we’re headed back there today.”

“Take one of the Bullet Catchers planes,” Lucy said. “You’ve gotten over your fear of flying, haven’t you, Miranda?”

“She still needs some moral support,” Fletch said quickly. “Which I’d like to continue to provide.”

“No worries, Fletch. I’m keeping you off any assignments until Wade has returned with Vanessa and Jack Culver finds the third sister.”

“Did someone say my name?” Jack strolled in, remarkably clear-eyed, clean-shaven, and…had he actually ironed his shirt?

For Jack, that was damn near formal.

Fletch greeted his friend with a handshake and a quick pat on the back. He was the only Bullet Catcher to stand by Jack when the shooting accident happened; their friendship was deep and solid. That’s why Jack had turned to Fletch when he needed help in finding Eileen’s daughters.

Miranda gave Jack a warm hug, confirming that the three of them had obviously been spending time together.

Jack turned to Lucy with a half-smile, his dark eyes hooded just enough to suggest he was hiding something. “Good morning, Ms. Sharpe.”

“Jack. Have a seat. And a doughnut.”

He pulled back the chair to her right. He knew damn well that Dan Gallagher usually sat there.

“You’re pushing your luck,” she said, softly enough that no one else heard it.

“One of my favorite pastimes,” he said as he dropped into the chair and flipped open the Dunkin’ Donuts lid. His fingers hovered between the chocolate and the glazed. “What do you say, Lucy? Would you like gooey or rich?”

“I don’t eat sugar,” she said, opening the file in front of her.

“That’s right. You’re sweet enough.”

She splayed both hands on the pages in front of her and gave him a warning look. “We’re here to launch the full-scale search for the third Stafford sister, Jack. Under your direction.” She nodded a little to underscore that huge concession. “Please give us a complete status report on everything you’ve discovered regarding her identity to date. Sage, you probably want to join us for this.”

“Be there in a second, Luce,” Sage said from her terminal, fingers flying over the keyboard. “I think I’ve got the location on that phone call to Vanessa Porter.”

“All right. Jack, what do you have?”

He placed a doughnut on a napkin in front of him. “First tell me about Vanessa. Any change in the situation down there?”

Everything in her wanted to remind him that she ran the meetings, but there were too many eyes observing this exchange, so she let it go. “She’s still reluctant to leave the islands until she locates the friend she went there to find, and, to be honest, she isn’t overly enthusiastic about the opportunity we’ve presented her.”

“Euphemism alert,” Jack said dryly. “So she knows and doesn’t want to help. Can we force her back here somehow?”

“No.” Miranda leaned forward. “I totally understand how she feels, and the decision has to be hers.”

Lucy nodded. “I agree, although Wade is doing everything to help her make the right decision, and make it quickly. But now I want to talk about the third Stafford daughter.” She looked pointedly at Jack. “What do you have so far?”

“Not a helluva lot, I’m afraid.” He pulled out a tattered investigator’s notebook.

“You really ought to try technology, mate,” Fletch said, laughing.

Jack just shrugged and flipped a page. “The best lead I’ve had so far came from Rebecca Aubry, the nurse-midwife at Sapphire Trail who claimed to have done the tattoos. She gave me a birth cert—which was promptly stolen—with a lead on the family surname Whitaker, somewhere in Virginia. I’ve been sweeping the state for a female with that name or maiden name of the same age. I’ve found a few, but they don’t check out.”

“I can expand on that easily,” Sage said, standing up from her computer to tighten her long honey-blond ponytail.

“Knock yourself out,” he said, taking a bite. “I’ll be happy to meet with anyone you find.”

He looked at Lucy, his dark eyes wary and questioning. She knew that look. There was something else, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her.

“Come on,” she said. “I want to help.”

Powdered sugar rained on the napkin as he brushed his fingers. “All right. The arresting officer on the case was at the nurse’s house yesterday, helping himself to papers and photos that could have been from Sapphire Trail. He’s either infiltrated Rebecca’s life somehow or just broke into the house—I’m not sure, but I can find out.”

Lucy turned a page in her file. “You mean Willie Gilbert.”

“Yes.”

“I had one of my men arrange to interview him as well.”

“What?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “Why?”

“He arrested Eileen and got her signed confession. He’d be the first person I’d try to talk to.”

“If you were investigating the murder, yes.
Not
if you are trying to find a child sold on the black market.”

“I can’t separate the two,” Lucy said quietly, studying the file as she readied the bomb she was going to drop. “So it made sense for Dan to interview Willie Gilbert.” She flipped a page and finally looked up to meet Jack’s dark, dark gaze.

“I thought he was in New York doing a security analysis,” he said.

“He had a break,” Lucy replied, her tone meant to remind him that she decided who went where in this company.

“I hope he was careful,” Jack said pointedly. “Because he’s a mean son of a bitch. The last time I visited Willie, it ended with a threat to harm Eileen’s daughter. At that point, we assumed that was Miranda, but we didn’t know yet that she’d had triplets. The other two sisters could still be a target if someone is using them as blackmail to keep Eileen quiet.”

“That’s a good point,” Lucy acknowledged. “We’ll keep a close watch on Willie Gilbert.”

The door to Lucy’s office popped open.

“That won’t be necessary.” Dan Gallagher cruised into the war room with his signature smile and confident walk. Nobody said a word as he sauntered around the table, giving a wink to Sage, knuckles to Fletch, a smile to Miranda. He reached Lucy’s end of the table and paused directly across from Jack.

“Doughnuts, huh? Must be a cop in the room.”

Jack met his gaze. “What do they eat for breakfast in the FBI?”

“Cops.” He dropped into the opposite chair, reaching over to put a hand on Lucy’s. “Hey, Juice. How’s tricks?”

She slid her hand out from under his. “What do you mean, it won’t be necessary to keep an eye on Willie Gilbert?”

“Because there was a fire in his condo last night.” Dan looked directly across the table at Jack. “I would think you would’ve known this, since this is your case and all.”

Jack ignored the dig. “What happened?”

“Willie didn’t get out in time. He’s toast.”

“And the contents of the condo?”

Dan grinned. “That tender side of yours always gets me, Culver. Burned to the ground and everything in it.”

Jack dropped back in his chair. “Arson?”

“They don’t know yet. But no one else was killed.”

“He can do anything,” Jack muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Lucy asked.

“That’s what Eileen said: ‘He can do anything.’ I thought she might mean Willie Gilbert, but…” His sigh was full of frustration. “Damn, I was sure she meant Willie Gilbert.”

“Jack,” she said softly, leaning close to him. “Whoever
he
is, we can find him.”

“
I
can find him,” he replied.

She put her hand on his arm. “
We
can find him.”

“I’ve got Wade Cordell on the line,” Sage announced.

Dan pushed back from the table, hard enough to jostle it. “You know what,” he said, his casual tone belying the glint in his green eyes. “This aspect of the case doesn’t concern me. I’ll wait in your office.” He paused and gave Lucy a meaningful look. “If that’s okay with you, Juice.”

The nickname, long ago derived from the term “Juicy Miss Lucy,” usually made her smile. In front of Jack, it made her uncomfortable. “That’s fine.”

Dan left, the soft click of the door latch as effective as a slam. She refused to react, and, to his credit, so did Jack. She reached forward to touch the screen built into the table, calling up the audio. “Talk to me, Wade. We have a full house.”

“Hey, Luce.” The slow Southern drawl was like sunshine in the middle of the lightning storm that had just raged in the room. “Sage just gave me coordinates of the location for that cell call, and it looks like it’s a fairly remote area on the eastern shore of Nevis, not far from where we are. We’ll head in ASAP.”

“We?” Miranda leaned in a little. “Is Vanessa with you, Wade? This is Miranda Lang.”