All the Way (33 page)

He couldn’t face losing her again, so he’d done the exact thing guaranteed to push her away. They’d overcome so much yet here they were again, on opposite ends of the same playing field. Too stubborn and hurt to meet in the middle.

Would there ever be a middle ground between them?

Layla still wasn’t speaking to him when sun started to set and the long-awaited call came.

The news was essentially what Blake had anticipated from Will, who’d spoken to Rob’s connection, Agent Staid. Except there was nothing he or Layla could do about it. The stage was set, the players already in motion. No wonder they hadn’t found any leads to Rob. The kid was laying low until the time came to play his part. They couldn’t prevent events from unfolding, Will told him.

Blake paced the length of the room above Frank’s shop. His hands itched to hold Layla. Every place his eyes fell reminded him of how many times they’d made love here, how good it was, how amazing she was. How much he loved her with every part of his being.

How would he tell her that Rob’s fate was no longer in their hands?

Executing a half-sigh, half-curse, Blake stalked over to the window, nudged aside the curtain. Wedging his shoulder against the window frame, he pressed his forehead to the cool pane chilled by the air-conditioning vent beneath it. The last of the sunset shaded the room in a purple-gray hush.

Absently he stared out the window into a narrow alleyway between buildings. White sheets and pillow cases draped from clotheslines, flapping in the evening breeze. Lit brightly by the rising moon, they almost seemed to be beckoning. Like flags of surrender.

Blake rolled his forehead back and forth against the cold glass, shaking his head. Layla would put herself smack in the middle of the crossfire—or the drug deal, whichever came first—before she’d give up her fight to save her brother.

“Who was that?” Layla’s voice came from behind him.

He shoved away from the window. She was speaking to him again, but only out of necessity. He might as well be honest now.

With a sigh, he revealed, “It was Will Waller. He talked to your brother’s contact, Agent Staid. There’s nothing more we can do. Rob’s fate is out of our hands.”

She bristled. “Excuse me?”

In the tense silence that followed, Tanner’s voice floated up to them from the stairwell. “Uh, hey guys?”

They both ignored him as their gazes clashed.

“Rob has to go through with his agreement, or Johnson walks away a free man. Will said Rob should be in safe hands.”

Layla stormed up to him. “I don’t want to know what he
should
be. I want to know he is safe. I want to know we’ll leave tonight and get him home where he belongs in time for court Wednesday.”

“The FBI has more sway than Rob’s probation officer.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know that. Rob’s future isn’t some game of chance.”

Tanner interrupted again. “
Guys
.”

“Unless we intend to face charges for impeding a federal investigation, we can’t step in on Rob’s behalf.”

“Maybe you can’t,” she snapped, “but I’m not letting my brother face Jack by himself.”

Blake’s nostrils flared. “Layla, we’ll get him back, but we have to play by the rules of the authorities in charge. We don’t have a choice but to hang back and let the Feds do their job.”

“Hey, numbnuts.” Tanner barged through the door. “There’s a guy downstairs who’s here to see you. Says his name is Agent Staid.”

“What?” Blake blinked. “He’s here?”

“Figured you’d want to have a few words with him.” He eyed Layla. “You, too.”

“Yes!” Layla flew out the door, dashing down the steps. Blake was right behind her.

The four of them gathered in Frank’s office for privacy. Agent Staid closed the door carefully, then walked to the office window and snapped the blinds shut.

He looked the way Blake imagined most undercover guys did, with sharp, dark eyes that never missed a detail, a buzz cut, a nose that had been broken a few times, and a no-nonsense expression that could freeze ice. Even in the sun-scorched Black Hills of South Dakota.

Rob was in good hands. But Blake doubted Layla would see it that way.

“My name is Agent Staid.” He extended his hand to Blake, Tanner, then Layla. His eyes lingered a little long on her. Not in a way that made Blake jealous, but in a way that made his blood run cold. The agent knew Layla, even though this was the first time they’d met. Along with the hunch, Blake began to suspect this entire trip might not have been as much about Rob as he’d thought. The agent’s next words confirmed it. “I’m glad to see you’re all right, Miss Farrell.”

“What can you tell me about my brother? What’s going on? Why are you keeping him away from me?”

The agent held up one hand and set the other on the back of Frank’s office chair. “Why don’t you have a seat, Miss Farrell.”

Layla didn’t move except to narrow her eyes. “
My brother
. Where is he?”

Agent Staid checked his watch. “Right about now, he’s getting ready to help us capture a man who’s eluded us for decades.”

“But why?” Hearing the distress in her voice, Blake reached out to her. She stepped away. “Why are you using my little brother to do your dirty business?”

The agent sighed curtly. “He’s the only person who can help us. He has something no one else does.”

“What?” she challenged.

“He has you for a sister.”

Layla stiffened.

“You, Miss Farrell, are the best leverage we have to nail Jack Johnson. You are the one thing he wants, and Jack is going through your brother to get to you. That’s why we needed Rob. Once we have Jack in custody on charges of possession and drug dealing, we can test his DNA and get the conclusive evidence we need.”

“Evidence.
For what?” Blake asked as dread consumed him.

“Murder.”

Murder.

The word hung in the air with palpable menace.

“Wh-what?” Layla stuttered in shock.

“I can’t disclose everything.” The agent folded his arms. “But I can tell you that we’re dealing with a very dangerous man. The sooner we get him behind bars, the sooner everyone will be safe. That’s why we need your brother, and your cooperation.”

Tanner stepped forward. “It’s about time we got retribution for what he did to our parents.”

“That’s not the case I’m referring to.”

Blake’s eyebrows rose. “Johnson has struck twice?”

Agent Staid shook his head slowly. “We’re not talking involuntary manslaughter here, folks. This is premeditated murder we’re trying to prove. Jack Johnson has a shaky mental past.”

A derisive snort came from Tanner. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

“Careful what you ask for,” Blake muttered under his breath.

The agent caught his comment and sent him a look of grim confirmation. “The facts are ugly, but here’s what we know.” He spread his hands on the desk as he spoke. “Psychotic breaks can sometimes be predicted. Jack Johnson has had four major episodes, falling around the same date each time.”

“I’ve heard about that phenomenon,” Layla said slowly. As the initial shock wore off, she spoke more fluidly. “I’m studying to be a psychiatric social worker.”

Agent Staid revealed, “You should also know that we’ve only found one short period during his life when there was no drug activity, accompanied by a high level of social functioning. The six months he was with you.”

Layla paled. “I’m not following.”

“Jack craves stability. He never had it growing up.”

“I know he had a difficult childhood, but he never told me what happened.”

Agent Staid continued, “Jack became dependent on you for that stability. That’s why we suspect he’s going to such lengths now, using your brother as a means to his end.”

She swallowed. “When did the mental deterioration start?”

“The first psychotic break got him sent to a lockdown facility, when he was thirteen. Which was about five years after he’d been shipped to Kentucky to live with an uncle. The abuse was bad, from what the records indicate. Kids with that background manage to survive any way they can. And they grow up to become adults who use those same coping mechanisms to manage their crippled emotions, however backward to normal society.”

“What happened?” Layla pressed. “Where did the murder charge come in?”

“From lockdown, Jack returned to his uncle’s. When he turned eighteen, he left the state. Not long after the local authorities found the uncle. The body was mutilated beyond recognition. They had to use dental records to confirm identification. The two eyewitnesses at the time were unreliable, but DNA evidence is not. The cold case file is on the verge of being reopened. First we need Johnson and his DNA in our custody.”

Layla’s hand flew to her throat. “Are you saying Jack murdered his own uncle?”

“That’s what we’re about to find out. His mental breaks are spaced five years apart, including the day he turned eighteen—the day of the murder. We want him in custody before he hits another milestone. Before more innocent people suffer.”

“Like our parents,” Tanner said grimly. He dragged his hands through his hair. “Christ, that was five years ago.”

Blake reached out and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, then turned to the agent. “This has got to stop.”

“When is it supposed to happen again?” Layla’s voice was quiet, thin.

The agent met her with a level gaze. “Within the next twenty-four hours.”

Layla cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, breathing deep. The breaths trembled in and out of her lungs.

Blake wasn’t feeling too steady himself. “What can we do to help?”

“Let us do our job. We’ll have this wrapped up before midnight.”

“Then we can be on the road, heading back to Cleveland with Rob?” Blake wanted to confirm.

“Rob signed all the paperwork we needed already.
As soon as the bust is complete, you’re free to go.”

Layla took the agent to task. “Where is the paperwork
I
sign that releases my baby brother into your questionable custody?”

“I assure you, ma’am, my men are spread out all around the site of the deal. Everything is under control.”

“Don’t you get it? You can’t control Jack.” Her voice shook. “And you put my little brother up against him. That’s just brilliant!”

Layla stormed out of the office.

Blake went to follow her, but when his hand curved around the doorknob, he drew the door toward him to cut off the answer to his next question. “Where are you guys going to be, so we can have the truck there, waiting?”

The agent supplied, “Behind the No Name bar.”

Blake stiffened when he heard the creek of floorboards near the door. He strained to hear movement, but there was only silence. He nodded his thanks to the man.

The agent stayed him with a hand. That cold, serious gaze bored into him. “Keep away from the site until ten o’clock. After that you can have Rob and be on your way.”

Blake sighed. “Layla will be glad to hear that.” He opened the door and walked out into the shop to tell her the good news.

But she was nowhere to be found.

“Layla?” he called out. His voice echoed in the empty store. His eyebrows lowered. “She must be upstairs.”

Blake turned and looked at his brother. The loud bang of a screen door froze their expressions in tandem.
Layla
.

Blake bolted up the steps. He heard Tanner’s footsteps thumping at his heels. When he reached the second floor, he dashed into the room. It was empty.

Blake’s gut twisted with panic.

Layla was gone.

*

Jack stabbed a cigarette out in the ashtray of his undercover car. When he pulled his hand away, he saw he was shaking. Trying to maintain himself, he carefully exhaled a lungful of smoke into the already smoke-filled interior.

A bad feeling had been creeping over him since that afternoon, after he’d met with Johnny. His blood pressure had skyrocketed when he’d traced Layla back to that Harley shop and saw an FBI agent walk into the same building not long after Layla.

Jack had moved his motorcycle immediately. It eased his mind to look out the windshield, across the silent side street where the drug deal would take place, and see the bike glinting in the moonlight in the alleyway across from him. His get-away ride.

Still, he felt sick to his stomach. And the damn Feds gave him hives.

His hands were raw where he’d been scratching them. He tried to ignore what that meant. The compulsion that was usually the precursor to…

A tremor ran through him. He blinked hard. The edgy feeling ebbed and he sat perfectly still until the shadow withdrew to the edges of his mind.

He lit up another cigarette, but couldn’t shake his nervousness. The mystery of why an FBI agent would come looking for Layla haunted him. Chills crawled up his back.

Then he thought of Layla’s fear. That settled him some. If she was scared enough, she’d look to Jack to make things right. Once he had her, he’d make sure she never left. Then the shadow growing in his mind would stop. It would leave him alone for good.

Obsessive desperation gripped his chest. It tightened like a vice, slowly squeezing the breath out of him. He inhaled rapidly to calm himself again.

He had to stay focused. Relaxed. Ready.

Suddenly, he sat up straight.

He smashed the cigarette in the ashtray. Waving smoke out of his face, he peered into the dim alley twenty feet away. The glint from his motorcycle had disappeared for an instant, like a shadow had crossed over it. Yes! There it was again. Unless he was hallucinating, there was someone slipping through the alleyway across the street.

It was a woman. It was Layla.

His heart raced with excitement. Euphoria engulfed him at the thought of her coming to him. Had she known he’d be here?

Here’s your chance. Take it now. Take her
.

“But the drugs, the money, the kid…”

Forget all that. She’s as good as yours. Move now, before you lose your chance.

“What if she doesn’t come with me?”

She’ll come. She needs you. That’s what I’ve been telling you.

“I know. But I’ve gotta have the kid. I need leverage, in case…”

Then you’ll lose her. She’s gone. She’s as good as gone.

“No. No, she’s not!”

Jack…Jack…

“Shut up. Shut up!” He gripped the steering wheel hard enough to rip it off.

A squawk came from the walkie-talkie at his hip. “Jack! Hey, pick up, man.”

The shadowy red haze abandoned him. He swiped at the sweat dripping off his forehead. Hauling in a breath, he unclipped the two-way and held it up to his lips. “I’m here. What is it, Johnny?”

“The gang members just entered the side street from the abandoned building. I’m coming in from your right, about to pass you. Give me three minutes. Then peel out of your hiding spot with lights flashing and a siren whoop to seal the deal. The two guys will bolt. I’ll grab the kid. The rest is up to you.”

“I’m on it,” Jack confirmed, setting his watch alarm.

Would that give him enough time to grab Layla and complete the bust?

“Three minutes. Starting…
now
.”

*

Air burned through Blake’s lungs. He ran full speed toward the No Name bar.

The second Tanner had told him he’d have the truck waiting, so Blake could go after Layla, Blake had leaped down the stairs, over the railing. He hadn’t stopped.

Swirling at the back of his mind was the flash he’d had, standing on the fire escape shouting her name, with no reply. He’d flashed back to last year: Rob had disappeared and Blake had left Layla to find him. It was the same thing now, only their roles were reversed. The impact of the memory had kicked him in the gut like a physical blow.

Now he understood how she’d felt.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took this kind of hell for me to get it
.

Blake pushed himself harder. He barely felt the ground beneath his feet as he raced through the night.

If anything happened to Layla…

He couldn’t deal with the thought of losing her. Loving her gave him the meaning that had been missing in his life.

Blake kept up his reckless pace. God help him through the aftermath if he wasn’t fast enough.

*

As Layla inched along the alley beside the No Name bar toward the dark, silent street behind it, a loud scraping sound made her freeze. Until she realized it was just her shirt dragging against the rough brick wall. Her senses seemed supernaturally keen.

Anxiety flooded her veins. She exhaled, trying to slow her heart rate. The moon offered inconsistent swells of light. During a dark phase she nearly ran into the motorcycle someone had parked right in her path. She shivered as she brushed against the motorcycle’s cold metal.

An eerie contrast to the hot, dense air clinging to her like a claustrophobic shroud. She wanted to see her brother. One glimpse to make sure he was all right. Make sure he hadn’t been hurt by a psychotic murderer intent on using a kid as bait for the prey. For her.

How did I miss all the signs?
she wondered incredulously, crouching as she neared the opening to the empty street behind the No Name.
She’d been studying part-time for years to become a social worker, she should’ve seen past Jack’s thin veneer.
I
’ve been so blind.

Sure, she’d wanted to help Jack. She’d sensed the inner turmoil that stirred deep inside him from the moment they met. But she never could’ve predicted she’d become a behavioral addiction for him, turning him into an obsessed lunatic.

Layla winced inwardly.
Some help.

If anything didn’t go as planned, Layla refused to let Jack attack Robby. She was his true target. Whatever it took, she’d protect her brother. Even if it meant delivering herself to the hands of a killer.

Another chill seized her. She shrugged it off and continued inching along, careful not to make a sound. Finally she came close enough to peek around the corner.

Just as a wisp of cigarette smoke drifted to her, Layla stifled a gasp. The gang members were there ten feet from her.

The back street was smeared with dense shadows. But one thing she saw perfectly clear. Robby strutted into the midst of the deal.

Layla did a double-take.
That’s
my little brother?
When had his shoulders become so broad? Had he always been this tall? The skullcap he wore covered his curly hair and made him look so different, so much older. Could she blame the shady dimness around them for making his face to seem leaner and angular, more grown-up?