Deep Breath (13 page)

She could always revert to her pre-Harry plan, one that saw her at the auction house tomorrow afternoon, wearing a maid’s uniform and conveniently dropping the lockbox into her barrel of collected trash.

Except that would leave her to deal with Charlie Castro on her own. And since she had no intention of turning over the dossier, well, she needed Harry’s help.

Of course his help wasn’t going to do her or Finn any good if the dossier wasn’t inside the box. But borrowing that trouble now was unproductive. They were done here. She needed to let Harry know.

She reached over the piles of papers to rotate the box back into place. Her elbow knocked into a stack of files as she did. She managed to grab them before they fell, her gaze caught by a brown folder with what looked like the edge of a red classified stamp.

She stared down, unable to breathe, and slowly slid the file from between the others.

She opened the cover, saw the name TotalSky, and slammed it shut, quickly slipped it into her portfolio, and clutched the leather binder to her chest, her heart thundering, tears welling in her eyes.

Three years of wondering if it even existed. If her father had been delirious. If the general had been telling the truth. Three years of pleading and exhausting every avenue and praying the papers she now held had not been destroyed.

And to find it here so unexpectedly, sitting buried in a stack of other files…to realize if she had not knocked into the pile with her elbow…if the lockbox had required a key and not a combination and she’d spent precious time trying to get it open…

She caught back a huge gasping sob and stared out through the window at the plush grounds beyond, where roses and azaleas bloomed in riotous red and pink clouds.

She wanted out of here. She wanted a quiet place to sit and read and absorb. To make plans on how to distribute the information inside.

She wanted to share her discovery with Finn, to show him his faith in her instincts had not been misplaced. But even more so, she wanted to share her find with Harry.

He’d been her partner in crime and her extra backbone now for two days. He’d been the one who’d come up with a way to get her inside the general’s house. Telling him would save him a lot of money tomorrow night.

But telling him would also mean losing what she’d just found. And until she was left with no other choice, that she couldn’t do.

Even knowing what he did about her reasons for needing to get her hands on the file, she doubted he would ever understand her not turning over the original to Charlie Castro in order to free Finn.

A copy would do her no good. She needed the real deal, the stamps and the signatures to prove she hadn’t manufactured the whole thing.

Finally, finally, she had in her hands the very thing she’d been searching for, the very thing she needed to prove her father had not been guilty of the crimes for which he’d been charged, for which he’d done time.

He’d told her as he was dying that the dossier would yield the truth. He’d also told her to make sure it did not go forgotten, that all guilty parties paid. She’d sworn to him that’s what she would do.

Because of that promise, she had to figure another way to free Finn. And she had only thirty-six hours to do so.

At the sound of Harry’s and Bob’s voices behind her, she quickly dried her eyes and moved away from the desk to the huge walnut library.

With the open portfolio cover hiding her treasured find, she pretended to jot a few last notes before tucking the binder into her satchel and making her meek and mousy way to join them in the door to the foyer.

But Harry didn’t seem as eager to escape. “The desk there. With all the papers. Is that staying with the house?”

“No. It’s also available. The papers were brought up from the ranch this morning for the auction. Somehow they were overlooked during the original shipment out.” Bob started to walk over. “Here, let me move everything to the floor so you can see the condition of the wood.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make certain it was part of the inventory.” He turned to the law clerk and held out his hand. “Bob, thank you for the tour. I’ll relay the information to my clients this evening, and will be in touch tomorrow.”

“Let me give you my personal cell number,” Bob said, pulling a business card from the holder in his inside coat pocket and writing the number across the back.

He handed it to Harry, and Georgia realized she had not imagined his snub. The man only had eyes for the man. She snickered to herself, and Harry glanced over as he pocketed the card. “Miss McLain? Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir. I have everything I need.”

“McLain?” Bob put in, halting their getaway. “The general spoke often of an old friend, Stanley McLain. I believe he had a daughter who would be about your age.”

Georgia pushed her glasses further up her nose, hiding behind them and the makeup she wore. She also patted the back of her careless chignon, wishing she’d taken more care with her disguise.

She’d never met Bob, but still. If Paul Valoren had recognized her from a photo…“It’s a fairly common name. I always think about the Bruce Willis character in the
Die Hard
movies.”

Bob shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with those.”

Now
that
she found hard to believe, what with the way Bruce had been all buff and sexy as he saved the day. Then again, that was probably her fantasy, not Bob’s. And here she’d thought they had the same taste in men.

Harry interrupted her nonsensical musing and saved this particular day. “Bob, it’s been a pleasure, and I will be in touch.”

And then he placed his hand in the small of her back and herded her out to the car, not stopping to talk or letting up on the pressure until he pulled open her door, she settled inside, and he slammed it shut behind her.

She fastened her seat belt while waiting for him to walk around to the driver’s side, and caught a glimpse of Bob on the front porch staring. With that picture in mind as they drove away—and with her dossier-rich satchel tucked between her feet—she couldn’t help but feel giddy.

And so she laughed. “I think he likes you.”

“That’s not funny,” Harry grumbled. “I’m kicking myself for using your name.”

She waved off his concern. “It’s not like my name is uncommon.”

“He remembered it. He remembered you.”

“He’s never met me. He only knew the name. Don’t worry about it.”

“I was careless.”

“Think how it would have looked if you’d made up a name on the spot and I hadn’t responded.”

“That’s why I should have made one up beforehand. Like I said. Careless.”

She could understand him beating himself up if he went around creating false identities every day. As far as she knew, he didn’t. And as far as she was concerned, he was doing a damn fine job for someone so out of his league.

He was the proverbial calm, cool, and collected, while she was doing good to conjure up even one of the three. In fact, she was pretty damn close to the edge of losing what little composure she had.

They continued on in silence for several miles, Harry navigating his way through the posh residential area back to their downtown hotel.

Georgia didn’t think she’d ever struggled so hard to keep a secret. Her left knee bounced up and down as she stared out the side window, her fingers twisting the strap of her satchel where she held it in her lap.

So she was actually glad for the distraction when Harry interrupted her musings and said, “When we get back to the hotel, I’m going to call in a friend to help.”

She glanced over. His jaw was taut, his gaze focused, intense. “Help with what?”

He stared straight ahead out the window. “We obviously can’t go into the auction now and bid on the lockbox without drawing Bob’s attention.”

Without
you
drawing his attention
, she wanted to tease. But she could tell that he was not in the mood. “Would that really matter? If he saw us there?”

“It might not, but I’d rather avoid the spotlight. He could start questioning our interest in the furniture if what we really wanted was the box.”

She wasn’t following his logic. “It’s not unbelievable that we would want both.”

“I don’t want to risk it,” he said, checking his rearview, glancing back, changing lanes. “And I really don’t think you do either. He might start wondering what’s inside. Or question why we didn’t ask about it when we were at the house.”

She thought about what he was saying, how yet again he was looking out for her best interests when none of the stakes here were his. “You’re probably right. And thank you. I don’t think that would have ever occurred to me.”

He smiled at that. “I told you that you weren’t going to want to dump me in Dallas.”

Right now she could see herself never dumping him at all. “You of the many tricks up your sleeve.”

“And in the many hats.”

The Rabbit. That reminded her. “Speaking of calling, who are you going to call and for what kind of help?”

“A friend, and I’ll figure out what I need when he gets here.”

Mr. One Step at a Time. “You know, you never have told me what it is that you do.”

“I’m a project consultant. For an engineering firm based in Manhattan.”

He rattled off the details quickly, without hesitation. Meaning he was either telling the complete truth or was a pro at popping the top on the canned response. “I would never take you for an engineer.”

He chuckled, began to relax. “Why not?”

“I’m not even sure. I mean, yes, you are methodical. You think things through. You come up with workable solutions. You don’t seem to be a spur of the moment kind of guy—” That was all she got out.

Harry picked that moment to make a right-handed bat turn. She grabbed for the armrest and still ended up halfway across the seat. The car bumped up into a parking lot and slammed to a stop before she managed to catch her breath.

Once she had, she narrowed her eyes and glared over. “What the hell was that?”

“A spur of the moment decision,” he said, and waggled both brows.

She looked up through the windshield. A Tex-Mex restaurant. Men and their stomachs. “You know, Finn made a spur of the moment food-related decision yesterday, and look where it got us.”

“It got you a big fat step closer to getting your hands on what you’ve been after for a very long time,” he said, and she knew she had no room to argue.

He shoved open his door, climbed out, walked around the front of the sedan, and opened her door. “I’m starving and I’m tired of room service. We have a lot of hours to kill before the auction. I’d rather not spend all of them holed up in the room.”

She made sure her satchel was securely closed before getting out. “We do have brunch at eleven tomorrow with Professor Valoren.”

Harry frowned at her bag as he shut her door. “Why don’t you leave that out here? You don’t need it for anything.”

Little did he know. “Actually, I have my hairbrush in here and I’m going to the ladies’ room to take down this mess.”

“I kinda like it up,” he said, his hand in the small of her back as he guided her through the restaurant’s entrance.

She breathed in the smells of jalapeño and cilantro and garlic and sighed. “Well, I kinda like that dark shadow on your face, but you keep shaving it off. ”

“I only do that so it won’t scratch when you kiss me. But since that hasn’t been happening…”

She stopped, reached out, grabbed him by his coat sleeve and spun him around. Once she had him facing her the way she wanted, she held onto his lapels, stood on her tiptoes, and planted her lips on his.

She kissed him hard. One big smack on the mouth. Then, as quickly as she’d grabbed him, she let him go, pulling him behind her all the way inside to the hostess station.

8:00
P.M.

“I never thought in a million years I could get sick of eating cereal, but I am,” Tracy said, lifting her bowl to drink the last of her milk.

She sat on the floor beside Finn, both of them leaning back on the wall with their feet against the base of the counter between the booths and the alley.

Well, her feet didn’t quite reach. Finn’s did, and he still had to bend his knees.

“What do you eat for breakfast?” he asked.

They’d talked all day, and off and on last night of equally silly things. “Usually oatmeal.”

“Oatmeal is cereal.”

“I know, but it’s hot cereal. It doesn’t count. So either that or scrambled eggs since I like to give my daddy a good start to the day.”

“He lives with you?” Finn asked, pouring the rest of his milk from the bowl into his mouth.

She shook her head. “He lives next door. In the house where I grew up.”

“Wow. So you’re a real local girl, huh?”

“You could say that.” She set both of their bowls and spoons on the floor and smoothed her apron over her lap. “The only time I’ve even been out of Texas was once as a kid when we went to Lake Catherine in Arkansas for vacation. I almost drowned.”

Finn clicked his tongue. “That had to suck.”

She laughed. “It’s kinda pathetic when I think about it now. The water wasn’t even over my head. I just got scared and panicked.”

“How old were you?”

“Five.”

He huffed. “Five-year-olds are supposed to panic.”

She laughed again. He made it so easy to do. To forget that if she leaned across him and looked around the counter, she’d see men with guns. “I guess you’re right. Though I can’t see Freddy ever panicking, even as a kid.”

“Freddy. He’s your husband, right?”

She nodded. She couldn’t say anything else because she was afraid that feeling like she was going to choke meant she was going to cry.

“I figured he’d come here looking for you last night when you didn’t come home.”

She supposed it looked pretty sad to everyone that no one had come looking for either her or for Phil. Phil lived alone, had no family, and had been known to close up weekends to go fishing with no notice at all.

The diner wasn’t his income as much as a way to keep busy. He had some sort of retirement pension from his years making cars in Detroit. She was the one who should have had people come looking. Freddy for sure.

“We’re separated,” she finally reminded him. “He wouldn’t know I’m not home.” It hurt to say it. Hurt even worse that Finn didn’t say anything for awhile.

“What about your father? Wouldn’t he have missed breakfast?”

“Any other day, he would have. But he went into the hospital on Thursday. I know they think I’m a horrible daughter, not visiting him for two days.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “And now they probably think I’m a deadbeat, too.”

“Aww, Trace.” Finn bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m sure they don’t think anything like that. You’re Mother Teresa, remember?”

She hated that stupid reputation. “Everything about my life has turned into a nightmare since Freddy left.”

Finn waited a minute, then reached over, took hold of her hand, and squeezed. “I forgot about Freddy being gone. Phil mentioned it last night. I guess it didn’t sink in. I’m sorry.”

For what? For not listening or for her being alone? Maybe he was sorry that she was too much of a loser to take care of herself.

But his fingers felt strong and nice, and she really needed to feel like she wasn’t alone, and so she let him hold her hand. “Well, it’s my fault he’s gone, so you don’t have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You can talk about it if you want. I’m a pretty good listener.”

She couldn’t be this pitiful. She had to suck it up. “Why would you want to hear about my problems when you’ve got a ton of your own? Aren’t you worried about your sister having to go off like that with someone she doesn’t even know?”

“Honestly? You pit those two against one another, I’ll lay a hundred to one odds Georgia comes out on top.”

“She sure looked like she was going to take off that Charlie’s head.”

“She’s a scrapper. And a damn fine big sister.”

“You’re her baby brother?” When he nodded, she laughed.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?”

“Only when comparing your sizes. You’re about two feet taller than her and probably weigh twice as much.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right about the weight. But she’s five eight. I’m six three. Not quite two feet.”

Tracy sighed. “Freddy’s only five nine. Standing up, I can lay my head on his shoulder.”

“Sounds like you miss doing that.”

“I shouldn’t, but I do. I need to get used to being alone.”

“No one needs to get used to that.”

She didn’t want to. She really didn’t. “Do you have more family than your sister? Are you married?”

He shook his head. “Never took the plunge. It’s just me and Georgia. Has been for a very long time.”

“No cousins or aunts or uncles? No grandparents?”

“Nope. Not a one. Is that hard to believe?”

“It’s hard to believe anyone doesn’t have someone.”

“You said Phil was on his own.”

“Maybe it’s because he’s older. But that’s stupid, huh? I mean, if my mom hadn’t died, I know she’d still be here with my dad.”

“Are you going to try and work things out with Freddy?” Finn asked. “Or is the split a done deal?”

“I don’t know.” Right now? This minute? She wanted him back more than she wanted to get out of here alive.

She didn’t want to die without seeing him again, without telling him how much she still loved him. “We’ve got a lot of stuff we’d have to work out, and I’m not sure we could.”

“Real stuff? Or are you both being hardheaded?”

She pulled her hand from his. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one.” Finn crossed his ankles, crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve seen a lot of friends bust up. Hell, I even watched Georgia and her ex call it quits.”

“She’s not married either?”

“Not now. In her case, I think it was more about just drifting apart and never having been right for each other in the first place. But with some of my buddies? It was like no one wanted to make an effort. Or be the one to admit they were wrong.” He stopped talking for a minute, letting what he’d said sink in. “Compromise isn’t such a terrible thing, Tracy.”

“I’m not dumb. I know that.” Ugh. He was being so nice, and she was biting off his head. “It’s just that I don’t know if we have any way to compromise.”

“Why not?”

“Freddy wants to move my daddy into a home and sell the house since we end up stuck having to pay most of the taxes. Daddy’s social security and Medicare don’t go very far when he’s in such bad shape.”

“Would he get better care in a home?”

Her heart began to ache. “No one can care for him better than I can. Or at least no one could before Freddy left and I’ve been having to work so many double shifts.”

“Where’s Freddy now?”

“I don’t even know. He’s been gone a couple of weeks. I think he’s staying with a hunting buddy over in Crawford.”

“So, let me ask you something, Tracy.” Finn tilted his head toward her. “If your father was home and had someone else looking after him, and Charlie decided to let us out of here, would you go home? Or go to Crawford?”

“You might as well ask me what I would do if the moon turned to green cheese because the cow kept jumping back and forth stirring it up. I have enough trouble trying to figure out what to do in real life.

“I don’t have time to waste imagining things that aren’t ever going to happen,” she said, scrambling up to her feet and heading to the bathroom where she could cry in peace.