By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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the moment, keep this as the only time instead of the last time.
THE SHOWER WAS AN ABOMINATION. Annie had been right. Bending over was a joke. He supposed it beat not having any shower, although he could argue the point.
At least he was no longer sticky. Unfortunately, he also no longer smelled like sex. That wasn’t something he’d ever felt bad about before. He pulled on his clothes and avoided thinking beyond the next few minutes. They’d eat, then he’d head back to Kalispell. Damn it.
After he opened a can of soda, his cell rang. He didn’t even bother taking a sip because it was George. Tucker considered calling him once they’d eaten, but he couldn’t. They hadn’t talked all day, not since Tucker had left him a voice mail close to noon. There was too much at stake to put this conversation on the back burner. He answered, talked long enough to tell George he’d call back in three minutes, then hung up.
Annie was up next for the shower, so that would work out well. He smiled at her, aching already from missing her. “I’ve got to make a phone call. I’m going to step outside, but I won’t be long and then we’ll eat.”
She pulled him into a kiss that ended too soon. “I’ll be out of the shower when you get back.”
He nodded, waited for her to pick up the clothes she’d stacked on the table. Once she’d closed the bathroom door behind her, he went outside. There were no volunteers at the sanctuary this evening, and after he was gone Annie would need to do the evening chores. He’d like to do them with her. Instead, he hurried behind the stable, away from the path.
When George answered, Tucker wasted no time. “You have news?”
“Yeah, I’ve got news.”
At the tone of his friend’s voice, a lump rose in Tucker’s throat. “Sounds like this is going to be painful.”
“You’re not wrong. Christian did leave the country.”
“I know. He’s on vacation.” This wasn’t news. He’d left that information in his voice mail for George.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not why he went. I’m sorry, Tucker, but he used a false passport.”
“How do you know this?”
“I had someone tailing him,” George said without hesitation, though Tucker’s brain was on pause. How had George had the time to have someone follow Christian? “He packed heavy enough to pay over a hundred bucks in extra fees. My associate was able to get a picture of the passport, and she said it’s first rate. Had to have cost Christian five grand, at least. Especially if it came with social security card and internet traceability.”
“Jesus, how much money did my mother give him?”
“That kind of passport doesn’t happen in a day or two. We’re talking months. Many months. He’s been preparing for his departure for a while.”
“Since the money for the charities disappeared?”
“Possibly.” George sighed. Tucker heard the sound of a pop-top opening and wished he’d brought his drink with him.
“You got my voice mail, what, around noon? You couldn’t have worked that fast putting someone on Christian and finding out all this information.” Tucker put the words out there, but he already knew….He may have been myopic about Christian, but George had clearly had his suspicions.
“No,” his friend admitted. “I set up a tail yesterday after I learned of the bookies.” He exhaled sharply. “I really hate this. Irene is going to fall apart, Tucker. I wish we didn’t have to tell her. She could just think of him taking a vacation.”
“She’ll find out eventually.”
“His cell phone’s gone dark. If you tell the authorities, they’ll search his place, but they won’t find a damn thing. I know. I looked. I also called an FBI agent I know in Jersey, and he hooked me up with a local agent who really knows what he’s talking about. He knew exactly which bookies I meant and has a file thick as a dictionary on the way they work. They’re heavily into breaking bones, kidnapping loved ones and any other kind of blackmail they can find, but they’ve also been linked to at least four murders. Never been convicted. No one ever testifies against them, and they don’t leave a trail.”
“Is there any connection you could’ve overlooked between them and Leanna?”
“None. In fact, the closer I’ve looked at her, the more I’m convinced she didn’t know a thing.”
“Wait,” Tucker said, his pacing kicking up dust and gravel. “Just to play devil’s advocate here, let me run this by you. For a minute, let’s assume everything Christian told me was accurate. He had no idea about the missing money. Then the D.A. comes after him and the only thing my brother can think is that Leanna stole the profits. There’s no evidence to the contrary. Nothing points to either Leanna or Christian. He hears rumors about Leanna getting tied up with some bad guys, gets scared, makes arrangements for a passport, a quick exit.
“Time goes by, nothing happens, he figures the mob has written off the loss. He can’t get work, but he doesn’t really need to, not after Irene gets in touch with him. Then, out of the blue, he gets word that I’ve located Leanna. Which scares the crap out of him, and he blows town. Takes enough money that he can make it in Bali.”
George didn’t say anything for a while. When he did, it was what Tucker expected to hear. “That might have made sense if this was the first time Christian’s name had come up in conjunction with gambling debts.”
Tucked muttered a vicious curse. This was partly his fault. He hadn’t been willing to dig deep into his brother’s history. If he had, this could’ve ended months ago. “How bad?”
“Bad enough. Not with these particular goons, no. But there’s a pattern. Something he might have picked up from his old man.”
“I share a biological father with Christian, remember, and I’m not a gambling man.”
“No? Sounds to me like you gambled on Leanna.” George hadn’t meant to be cruel, Tucker was sure, but his words stung nevertheless.
“It’s sure starting to look as if I backed the right horse,” he said curtly, then immediately calmed down. Getting angry wouldn’t help. “If I bring her back to New York, doesn’t that put her in danger? Won’t these bookies know Christian split, and figure she’s got to know something about the money?”
“It’s possible, yeah.”
Tucker opened his mouth to curse as he turned, but the sight of Annie standing at the end of the building stopped him. “I’ll call you back, George,” he said, his heart thudding as he disconnected.
Annie was pale as a ghost, her expression one he’d seen on victims of terrible accidents. He moved toward her, taking slow, easy steps, afraid he’d spook her. She was trembling so violently that his soda, the one he’d opened, spilled over her shaking hand.
“Annie, I can explain.”
She tried to respond, at least that’s what it looked like, but no words came out. Finally, she seemed to snap back to herself. “You left your drink.”
“I can explain.”
She shook her head, still dazed, but not in complete shock. “You don’t need to.”
He was close enough for her to hand him the can of soda. He took it, never looking away from her eyes, dilated far more than shadows could account for. “But I do.”
“It won’t make any difference.” She turned, headed back from where she’d come.
He wished she’d screamed at him. Cried. Run away. But her voice had sounded dead, her stride careful. He had to stop her. Let her know that he was on her side. Make her believe him.
She didn’t have to forgive him, because even when his own heart was pounding