Sizzle in the City (17 page)

Deception had dominated her relationship with Trevor. How could anything honest and true bloom from that sad beginning? How could chemistry and a bond over a selfish crook form the basis of love? How would their differences in upbringing, income and status ever merge?

“Let him come to you,” Victoria said, her voice coming through courtesy of the tiny earpiece Shelby and the others wore.

Jerking back to reality, Shelby drew deep breaths as she watched the elevator’s lit numbers advance higher and higher.

“Don’t fidget,” Florence whispered, turning to stare at her.

She’d probably said the same thing a thousand times to Trevor in church while he was growing up.

Appreciating the confidence in Florence’s sturdy frame and kind brown eyes, Shelby nevertheless shook her head. “I’m supposed to be the mousy niece who keeps track of the checkbook. I’ll be more convincing if I twitch.”

“We need to make a copy of our small film for an awards committee as well as the police,” the secretary said matter-of-factly.

When Shelby frowned, she added, “You’re quaking like a sparrow caught in a hurricane.”

Annoyed at herself, Shelby rolled her shoulders, pleased to discover her spine was still in place. She wasn’t afraid of Max nearly as much as what would happen once he was out of the way, and she and Trevor had to face the unlikely event of their relationship continuing.

“The earpiece works quite well,” Henry commented. “Maybe I should get one of these systems for Hastings.”

“Hastings?” Shelby asked.

“My house manager,” the earl said.

Shelby pictured a stern-faced, gray-haired butler in a three piece black suit. She was so out of her league with these people.

She also had no idea where her friends had gotten the surveillance equipment, complete with an audio bug in Shelby’s ring and a mini camera hidden in the arrow-shaped charm around her neck. Or why they felt such extreme measures were necessary. But she expected they’d enjoyed the intrigue.

At least somebody was having fun.

The triumph and anticipation she should feel wasn’t there. Anxiety and dread were, however, present in great supply.

“Remember I’m with you,” Trevor said, via the same earphone. “You can do this.”

Shelby closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Though not near her physically, her lover was manning the recording equipment in a rented hotel suite. Victoria was already at the investors’ meeting posing as a potential victim. Calla was in a rented van outside, prepared to follow Max when he left.

What could go wrong?

As Henry and Florence strolled into the suite with her shuffling along behind, she noted everything was set up like the previous gathering, though with a few prosperous additions. The slide show was now accented by a physical model of the building once it was developed into condos. The food table was more opulent and included an ice sculpture in the shape of a swan. The room was more crowded, and the attendees more affluent.

Max had been working hard.

They’d barely crossed the threshold when a waiter offered Florence and Henry glasses of champagne. She was ignored.

Perfect. Not only did she have no intention of toasting anything, Shelby would be most effective if she wasn’t memorable.

Henry urged their trio toward the model encased in a glass display. The prospective condo building was a ten-story tower of glass and stone. Tiny trees and people dotted the sidewalks. A park, complete with potted flowers, iron benches and playground equipment, set off the east end of the property.

“It’s perfectly peaceful,” she said quietly.

“Appearances can be deceptive, my dear,” Henry said, smiling at her.

“It’s a facade,” Florence added.

“It certainly is,” Shelby agreed.

“Your lordship.”

Careful to keep her face angled downward, Shelby turned as Henry did toward the man with the worshipful voice. Max, naturally.

Through her large, dark-rimmed glasses, she looked past her lanky brown bangs and noticed the scumbag’s widened eyes as if he’d been presented with a plate of diamonds. “Father, you’re here.”

“I am,” Henry said, shaking his son’s hand, his tone warm but not overdoing it. “I popped into town to see you and Trevor, and he told me about your project. I wanted to see you, naturally, and I thought my friend Florence might be interested.”

Florence shook Max’s hand as Henry introduced them. Shelby was pointed out as Florence’s
quite efficient
niece, Rosemary.

Shelby waited for recognition. She held tight to the leather portfolio she’d brought both as a prop and a place to store Florence’s all-important checkbook. Surely they’d all be denounced as frauds.

But Max barely glanced at her—all his attention was for his father and his friend.

“She’s going to love this development,” Max said, all smiles and welcome. “Let me show you around.”

He dragged them from one end of the room to the other, introducing them—well, mainly the earl—to everyone in sight. Shelby finally understood the fawning, false as it might be, that Trevor had endured through his life. Grown people, supposedly independent-thinking Americans who elected their leaders instead of birthing them, fell over Henry like a prince. It was ridiculous and embarrassing.

She’d been somewhat anxious about meeting the earl. While her concern had mostly been over meeting the father of the man she loved, intimidation over the title had come into play. The fact that he lived in a social and economic structure beyond her realm couldn’t be ignored. Celebrities were worshipped; teachers were underpaid.

Wasn’t that what the Robin Hood legend had been all about? The balance of nobility and greed. The divide between have and have-not. The compulsion to give and take.

And, for her, the desire to resolve injustice.

Through the whole ordeal, Trevor sent encouraging advice through her earpiece and Victoria kept a distant eye on their progress around the room.

Shelby was wrapped in the embrace of her friends, and she’d never felt so comforted—and so afraid of what would happen when they let go.

“It’s so beautiful,” Florence said, gazing with fake rapture at the slide show Max provided. “I’d love to live there.”

“But you can,” Max said, his voice low and coaxing. “A committed deposit, and all this can be yours.”

Shelby felt Henry’s hand press into her back. “A committed deposit of what?” she asked Max.

“Twenty grand,” he said, not looking at her at all but Florence. “That’s all I need.”

It was considerably less than they thought he’d want and much more than she wanted to give. But then she wouldn’t willingly give the man cab fare.

Which is probably why, after she wrote a check to Maxwell Banfield Incorporated, her hand jerked as if in protest when she extended it toward her “aunt” to sign.

“Do it,” Calla said in her ear.

“End it,” Trevor added.

Shelby handed over the check.

Was she ending one crisis only to have her heart broken? How could she and Trevor take what was begun with lies and make magic?

She was fresh out of lemonade.

* * *

“D
O
YOU
THINK
HE
’
LL
cash the check?”

With Shelby’s head resting on his chest, her bare thigh slung over his as they snuggled in his bed, the last thing on earth Trevor wanted to do was talk about Max.

“He’d be silly to cash a check that large. The bank has to file a report of any single withdrawal of more than ten thousand dollars.” He stroked her bare back with the tips of his fingers. “Still, he’ll probably run to the bank in the morning, even though it’s Saturday. The key is where he deposits it. The money should be held in an escrow account reserved for the condo construction.”

She pressed her lips against his skin. “And you don’t think he’ll do that?”

He closed his eyes and fought to concentrate on the question. “I don’t think he can spell escrow.”

“You’re sure your friend at the bank will call when Max comes in?”

“Yes.”

“And if he withdraws the money?”

“Then, too. Stop worrying.”

“You’re the one who should be worrying. It’s your money.”

“I’ll get it back.”

She sighed. “My stomach’s in knots. How does Detective Antonio do this everyday? I’d go crazy.”

“He doesn’t have a personal stake in his cases.”

“True.”

Another kiss to Trevor’s chest, and he grinned. He knew she needed to talk through her concerns, but damn it was hard.

“He didn’t recognize me,” she said softly.

His heart jumped. “Antonio? When did you—”

“No, no.” She patted his shoulder. “See, I’m not the only one who’s worried.”

He tightened his hold on her. He wasn’t troubled, per se. Just anxious to end all this intrigue. He had quite a lot to say to Shelby, and he wanted her untroubled and happy when he did.

“Max,” she continued. “He didn’t recognize me as the caterer from the party. He didn’t recognize Florence or suspect his own father had turned on him.”

“Did you expect him to?”

“I guess not. But we’re taking a lot of risks now. If any one point of the plan goes wrong, we’ll lose him.”

“Then we’ll just have to find him again. He’d contact me eventually.”

She lifted her head, her eyes dark with apprehension. “I can’t wait that long. I want this over. I’m tired of it hanging over our heads.”

He hugged her and kissed her gently. “Me, too.”

When he would have deepened the kiss, she propped herself up on her elbow. “Still, this ordeal has had its moments. You should have seen the expression on Max’s face when he spotted the earl at that meeting. He looked like he’d been handed the keys to Fort Knox.”

“I’m sure.”

She gave a faint smile. “How ’bout ole Pops? He handled the scene like a pro.”

Trevor couldn’t suppress a wince. “You didn’t call him that, did you?”

“You’re not worried about twenty grand, but you’re concerned how I address your father?”

He thought about it for ten seconds. “Yes.”

“I called him what he asked me to—Henry.”

And that was a marvel in itself. “I’ve never seen him be so charmed by anybody in my life. But then you’re pretty cute.”

“Cute?”

He traced her jawline with his finger. “Stunning. Brave.” Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her close. “Irresistible.”

She laid her mouth on his, exploring at first, then increasing the intensity. Her lips were sweeter than any dessert ever conceived, even in her clever mind. He’d never tire of the scent, feel and taste of her.

She pressed her feminine heat against his erection. He groaned and fumbled for the condoms in the bedside table’s drawer, but she snagged his wrist, pining his hands above his head.

“Let me,” she whispered before she proceeded to destroy his self-control with her mouth and body.

Passion flowed from every part of her. Her breath was hot and ragged as she kissed her way down his throat. She glided her tongue teasingly over his nipples, and he hardened to the point of near explosion.

When she rolled on the condom, she took her time doing so.

Meanwhile, he was using every ounce of willpower he had. But when she lifted her hips and welcomed him inside her body, the glorious pleasure of it overtook everything.

How was it possible to want somebody so much? To need to the point that nothing else existed but her?

They moved together as if born to be joined, and when he climaxed, her moans of satisfaction sparked explosions like the aftershocks of a violent earthquake.

Love deluged him with its wondrous power when she collapsed on top of him, her heart galloping in time with his own.

So beautiful and perfect.

Nothing could part them.

16

“T
HE
MONEY
’
S
IN
HIS
personal account.”

Trevor made the announcement to the gathered gang in Shelby’s kitchen on Saturday morning.

Panic not relief jolted through Shelby. They were one step closer to meting out justice, and when the ax fell, Trevor’s brother would be broken, defeated, forced to repay the swindled funds and jailed.

Wasn’t that the vision she’d dreamed of for months? Even years?

So why was she sick inside? Why wasn’t she thrilled?

“Hot damn,” Victoria said from her perch on the counter.

“What’s next?” Calla asked, her tone excited.

No one seemed to notice Shelby was on the verge of tears or that she’d clutched her hands together to keep them from shaking.

“We go to Detective Antonio and tell him everything,” Trevor said. “The personal deposit is enough to bring Max in for questioning. Added to everything else, probably an arrest.”

“Probably?” Shelby jumped on the word.

He frowned, whether because he sensed her tension or from her abrupt tone, she wasn’t sure. “It’s obviously not up to us, and at this point, we need help from the police. They need to get court orders to freeze Max’s accounts.”

“I agree with Trevor,” Victoria said with a decisive nod. “What if Max decides to take off with the money?”

“Do you agree, sir?” Trevor asked his father.

Looking tired, Henry nodded. “I’m resigned to the idea that Max has to be stopped from ruining any more lives. I’ll hire an attorney for him. Right after I give him the dressing-down of his life.”

Calla gave Shelby a brief hug. “We set him up. It’s time for Detective Antonio to take him down.”

Yes, she wanted this over, but she was terrified that when it was, she would lose Trevor. They’d begun with lies. They’d bonded over revenge. Who’d want to build on that? “I think we should watch him another day or two.”

Trevor approached her and took her hands in his. “Let’s be done with all this. I know you’re ready.”

“What if we haven’t done enough?”
What if I’ve gone too far?

“Your family would be proud,” Henry said. He winked at her. “Though I’m a bit sad to see my days as a gullible mark come to an end. I believe I could have had a nice career in the theater.”

“Lord Aberforth is always looking for patrons for his son’s plays,” Trevor said drily. “Perhaps you could invest.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Aberforth? That barking duffer? I wouldn’t give him—” He stopped, obviously noticing Trevor’s smile. “Very amusing, son.”

Trevor and his father had become much closer over the last few days. Could she take some credit for that? Did it balance the bomb she’d dropped on the family?

Trevor turned back to Shelby. “The ending of the earl’s acting career notwithstanding, wouldn’t you be overjoyed to let this burden go? You’ve proved to the police that it’s time to take this case seriously. Let them do their job.”

She noted the antsy looks on her friends’ faces. They’d given so much of themselves to her cause. She met Trevor’s gaze and saw no hint of the foreboding brewing inside her. His eyes were clear, blue and perfect.

But for how much longer would he look at her that way?

She tried to smile. “You’re right, of course. After all this time, it just feels strange to be near the end.”

“Hot damn,” Victoria said again, scooting off the counter and dropping to the floor. “I’m headed to the beach. Call me when they’ve got the jerk in custody.” She sailed out the door.

“I’ll call Detective Antonio,” Calla said, hitching her purse on her shoulder.

“I’ll do it,” Trevor said. “He’s going to be pretty annoyed. You shouldn’t have to take the brunt of his anger again.”

Calla glanced at the door Victoria had gone through. “You’re sure?”

Trevor nodded. “Absolutely. Go to the beach.”

“Bye.” Calla ran after Victoria.

Fearing she might collapse under the weight of her dread, Shelby pulled away from Trevor. “I should get to work on the Perry wedding.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She nearly ran to the walk-in fridge. “I’m really behind with the prep.”

He followed her. “Let me help.”

“No.” She frantically gathered produce at random. “Enjoy your Saturday. You and your father go to the park or something.”

He slid his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck, exposed by the ponytail she’d gathered her hair into. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. “No! Thanks,” she added in a softer voice.

None of these feelings for each other were real. He’d see that once Max was arrested, once there was nothing to secure them together. Once this mess hit the media, and his father relied on him to soothe the hole in his life and save the family name from total disgrace. He’d realize how different they were. He’d break her heart.

He drew her around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Nothing.” She skirted around him. “I just need to get to work.”

“How about a celebration dinner tonight? Father, you should join us.”

The earl nodded. “That sounds lovely. My last night in the city. Where do you recommend, Shelby?”

“Sorry, I can’t go,” Shelby said, laying out her ingredients and having absolutely no clue what she was going to do with them. “The wedding, remember?”

“We can help,” Trevor said. “The Banfield men look quite dashing in a tuxedo.”

“Don’t be silly.” Shelby drew a knife from the block and began chopping celery. “You guys go and have fun. Take him to Giovanni’s.”

Trevor exchanged a look with his father. “Maybe it’s best if Shelby doesn’t come. You should see Mario, the chef, trip over himself to please her.”

Shelby rolled her eyes as Trevor no doubt expected her to. “Oh, good grief. That’s such an exaggeration.”

Trevor leaned toward her, brushing his lips over her cheek. “Not by much. He needs to be reminded you belong to me.”

The desire and possessiveness in his eyes made her heart contract. Her throat threatened to close. She couldn’t hold on much longer. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to tell him.”

“Count on it. You sure you don’t want help?”

She pointed the knife at him. “Out.”

Laughing, he held up his hands. “I’m going, Chef. I’m going. Call me later.” After one last kiss, he and his father left the kitchen.

When she heard the door close behind them, the tears she’d been fighting fell unheeded. Under the weight of her sorrow, she collapsed into a chair and cried.

Project Robin Hood, Day Twenty-nine
Offices of Banfield Transportation

“H
E
’
S
WITHDRAWING
THE
money.”

“What?” Trevor was sure he’d misheard his friend from the bank. “How? When?”

“Now.”

“All of it?”

“He’s closing the account. Wants five thousand in cash, and the rest in a cashier’s check. What do I do?”

“Stall.”

Trevor slammed down the phone, raced past Florence, then hailed a cab outside his building. “First Union Bank, on 5th,” he said to the cabbie. “Quickly, please.”

While he cursed himself for having not anticipated this turn of events, his heart pounded and reminded him Max’s sudden flight wasn’t the only problem he would have to face that day.

Shelby was running from him, too.

She’d claimed exhaustion on Saturday night after the wedding she’d catered. Yesterday she’d gone to brunch with him and his father, but she’d been distracted and jumpy, then told him he should spend time with his father, since his flight was departing that afternoon.

Last night, though she’d spent the night at his apartment, she seemed to be going through the motions when they made love, and she’d been up and gone at dawn this morning.

She should be happy, eager to celebrate their victory. What was wrong? Had he done something to upset her? He’d gone through everything that had happened over the last few days, and, while stressful, he couldn’t see what could have caused such a turnaround.

And now, if Max got away, would she blame him? Would they spend all their time looking for him? Instead of after-sex cuddling would they worry and plan their next move for revenge?

The possibility made him want to bang his head against something solid.

When he reached the bank, his friend was standing on the sidewalk out front.

“I’m sorry,” he said when the cab pulled to the curb and Trevor opened the door. “We tried to go slow, but he’s insistent and agitated. My clerk is putting the cash in stacks now. He’ll be coming out any minute.”

“It’s okay. Go back inside. I’ll follow him from here.”

“Good luck.”

Trevor nodded and ducked back in the cab. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a wad of twenties and handed them to the driver. “Could you wait at the end of the block?”

“You got it, pal.”

He should call Shelby, but his mind was racing so quickly, he couldn’t think what to say. Using the side mirror, he kept watch on the bank’s front door, and nearly fell off the seat when Max exited, looking around furtively and toting a brown leather briefcase.

Trevor had the faint, irrational impulse to laugh. When had his life become a spy movie?

“Get ready to go,” he said to the cabbie, watching Max raise his hand to hail a cab.

Trevor’s driver did a professional job of getting in line a few cars behind Max’s cab. As they inched through midday traffic, he called Shelby and explained what was happening.

“We should have been watching him,” she said, her voice low and strained.

“Too late to regret it now. Call Victoria and tell her to come get you, then ring me back, and I’ll update you on where I am.”

“Okay. What are we going to do if we catch up to him?”

Frustrated and edgy, Trevor speared his hand through his hair. “I have no idea.”

“We’ll think of something.” She paused, then added in a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry, Trevor. This is all my fault.”

“It’s
not,
” he said firmly. “Call Victoria.”

He disconnected and let his head fall back against the seat.

“You need the cops, buddy?” the cabbie asked.

“Among other things,” Trevor said bleakly. “Don’t lose that cab, and you can be part of the big bust.”

“Cool.”

In true NYC style, he was thrilled to be part of the action instead of intimidated by the possibility of danger.

“Where are you?” Shelby asked when she called a few minutes later.

“That was fast.”

“Victoria and Calla were already on their way here.”

“I’m going through the Midtown Tunnel.”

“He’s headed to Queens? What—” She stopped. “He’s going to LaGuardia.”

“It would make sense.”

“It doesn’t actually, but we’re right behind you. Call when you know for sure.”

“That the cops?” the cabbie asked, weaving around a bus to keep Max’s cab in sight.

“My girlfriend.”

“And she’s a cop?”

“She’s a caterer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I promise I’ll buy you a beer later and tell you the whole story.”

“Ought to be a doozy.” The cabbie met his gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Mind if I ask who we’re followin’?”

“My brother.”

“Better make it two beers.”

Max was indeed headed to the airport. The ladies caught up to Trevor’s cab, so he was able to wave to them through the back window. Victoria looked determined, Shelby worried and Calla was on the phone—no doubt with Detective Antonio.

Trevor had called the detective himself but had only gotten his voice mail. Maybe Calla was having better luck.

What was Max thinking? What was he
doing?

With the bank account on watch, they’d called off the surveillance on Max. None of them had had any contact with him all weekend. What could have spooked him to send him running to the airport with a briefcase full of cash?

At the airport curb, Trevor gave the cabbie his card. “Thanks. Call me and I’ll tell you how it turns out.”

“Appreciate it, but I think I can guess.” He turned and pointed to a car a little ways ahead—one Detective Devin Antonio was alighting from accompanied by two other men. “Those your cops?”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

They’d been waiting on Max’s arrival. How had they known he was coming?

“That’s Antonio,” Shelby said, jogging up beside him.

He linked their hands. “Come on.”

They rushed through the sliding doors with Victoria and Calla right behind them. Victoria’s car was sure to get towed, but none of them cared.

Max was hustling toward the security line as if the devil himself were on his heels, which—though his brother might not yet realize it—he was.