Wild Justice

CHAPTER 45

Yesterday afternoon I’d been lying on the sofa, staring blissfully out the window, waiting for Jack to run an errand. Now, just a day later, I was back there again. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t quite the same level of blissful oblivion. But it was still sweet enough.

I was feeling reflective, thinking of what had happened, wishing Quinn hadn’t found out that way, but the guilt and recriminations had passed. For now. I enjoyed the mental peace and quiet. Then my cell phone rang.

For a second, I froze, thinking it was Quinn calling to tell me what he thought of me in greater detail. Then I recognized the number.

“Jack stepped out,” I said in greeting.

“Yes, I know,” Evelyn said. “He just called me. So we’ve lost Quinn.”

I exhaled. “Yes.”

“Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” she said. “Eventually he was going to find out about you two, and when he did, he wasn’t sticking around. It’s just inconvenient timing.”

I hesitated.

“Did I say I just spoke to Jack, Dee? He told me everything.”

“Right. Sorry. Yes, we should have seen it coming, but we were careful.”

“I’m sure you were.”

She didn’t say anything else, but there was a note in her voice that started me cursing.

“Jack didn’t tell you about us, did he?” I said.

“He said only that you and Quinn had a falling out. Not the actual cause.”

I cursed some more.

“Oh, stop, Dee. If you two were really trying to keep things a secret, you were doing a damn poor job of it. I could tell the minute I walked in on you two giggling on the sofa.”

“We hadn’t actually—”

“But you were heading there. At warp speed. Until I brought Quinn along. Which I will admit was a mistake. I was trying to goose Jack into making a move by applying a little competitive pressure, only to discover he was already on that path and instead had to throw on the brakes. Which, as I’ve told him, I will not apologize for. You two have been circling each other so long I was getting dizzy watching.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But that’s not what I called about. Quinn’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

“I think so.”

“That’s a statement, not a question. He’s gone until this investigation is over. That’s how he’ll punish you.” She paused. “And I sincerely hope you don’t think you deserve that punishment.”

“No. I feel bad, but it was over. I’d made that clear.”

“I’m sure you did. I’ve never slept with a man and didn’t make it damned clear he was renting, and there could be other tenants. He’d say he was fine with that. Then he’d find out someone else was sharing my bed, and you’d think I’d screwed around on our honeymoon. When I said we weren’t exclusive, what he heard was me giving him permission to sleep with others. God forbid I should. I suppose not all men are like that, but the ones we hang around with, Dee? Alpha dogs who won’t stand for trespass—real or imagined. Quinn’s not coming back until you don’t need his help anymore. Which means we have a problem.”

“I know.”

“I may be able to circumvent it, but I need your permission.”

I sat up. “My permission?”

“We have little hope of finding Aldrich’s partner without Quinn, and I’m not sure we would have found him anyway. The other route is through Contrapasso. I’ve been laying the groundwork to the point where I can ask about Aldrich. That’s too slow now. I need to talk straight with them. Ask about Cleveland and Drew Aldrich and Sebastian Koss.”

When I didn’t reply, she said, “Dee?”

“I’m here.”

“And being quiet because you know what that means, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I will do everything in my power to avoid linking you to me. And by ‘you,’ I mean you, not Dee.”

That was the problem. It was fine for Evelyn to go to the Contrapasso Fellowship and ask blunt questions to protect a student. Except the person with a price on her head wasn’t Dee. It was Nadia Stafford.

She continued, “There is a chance that to get the answers we need and get this mark off your head, I might have to reveal who you are.” Tell them that Dee was me. That their mark was a hitman. That Nadia Stafford was a hitman. “And if I do that . . .”

“I can’t be me. Not anymore.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. This isn’t an incompetent gang of thugs who would blackmail you for pocket change. However, if they did know, you would no longer be as secure in your normal life. You would need to be on alert and ready to leave at the first sign of trouble.”

“Leave my home, you mean. Leave my life. Which, I know, you don’t really understand the appeal of anyway . . .”

“I don’t. You could make a very handsome living off your second career, and I completely fail to see the point of struggling at something else instead. But you want it. And, God help me, Jack wants it. He wants it for you, and he wants to share it with you.”

I thought I heard a faint intake of breath, as if she’d spoken too quickly, too bluntly, which was never usually a problem for Evelyn.

After a moment, she said, “You understand that, don’t you? What Jack wants?”

No, not really. It wasn’t anything we’d discussed, but if he wanted what she said he did, I’d give it to him. Happily. So I said, “Yes, I understand.”

A soft exhale, as if in relief. “Good. So you have your outside life, and I know you want to keep it, and if Jack knew I was even considering doing anything to ruin that, he’d kill me . . . possibly literally.”

“Which is why we’re having this conversation without him.”

“Yes. You’re probably wondering why he isn’t back from changing the key card. I managed to persuade him that given the hour and the fact you two skipped lunch, you must be hungry. Normally, he’d see right through that, but he’s a little distracted right now.”

“Is he too distracted?” I said. “I mean, we both are, a little, but . . .”

“Jack’s fine. Distracted is the wrong word. He doesn’t lose his focus. But, even before this, the mere suggestion that you might need something would be enough to send him scrambling to get it for you. It’s nauseating, actually. You may want to work on that.”

I managed a faint smile. Then I sobered. “But you mean he left the building? I didn’t want him going out, not when he’s already been shot at—”

“He’s been shot at many, many times, Dee, and there is no one more capable of looking after himself. Your concern is very sweet, though, also in a nauseating way. At least you two are equally infatuated, which I suppose helps, if you like that sort of thing.”

“But Jack won’t be out long, which means we need to settle this. You’re asking permission to blow my cover, if necessary.”

“Yes. It’s not Jack’s decision to make, and he shouldn’t have to make it.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t put that on him.”

“So your answer is . . . ?”

Was I willing to risk the lodge, risk my identity, risk the world I’d built, the world I loved? The gut answer was no. Absolutely not. But the stakes . . . that was the problem. What was at stake if I said no? My life. My actual life.

There was a time, not that long ago, when I’d have taken the risk. When the lodge was my life. It still was a huge part of it. But even if that identity—Nadia Stafford, lodge owner—was stripped away, I was still me, and that was worth holding on to.

I was also worried about Jack’s involvement in this. But I had to put that aside and make the decision for myself. That wasn’t an easy place for me to be in—it’s so much easier for me to think of others. Yet I can’t live like that. It’s a bottomless morass of guilt and denial.

“Yes,” I said finally. “If you have to, do it.”

“I won’t unless I have to.” A pause. Then, “I know you don’t believe that. You don’t trust me. I’ve given you reason not to, and I won’t apologize for that. But . . .” She trailed off and there was a long silence. Then she came back, her voice strong. “I’m going to say this once and only once, and if you ever remind me of it or—God help me, tell Jack—you will wish you hadn’t. You have done something for someone I care about very much, Dee. You make Jack something I didn’t ever think he could be. You make him happy. I want that for him, and as long as you’re doing that, you can trust me. Jack wants you to keep that other life, so I will do everything in my power to make sure you keep it.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry about Duncan.”

“He was old,” she said, sounding more like herself. “Shitty way to go, though, and I hope that whoever did this will suffer just as much, but mostly, I just want the bastard dead. Get this whole goddamned mess solved, and let everyone get back to their regularly scheduled lives.”

“I’m sorry about all this.”

“Why? You’re not the idiot who had to make the grand romantic gesture of finding Drew Aldrich.” She snorted. “There’s one you don’t see in the movies. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like ‘I tracked down this guy for you to kill.’”

A knock sounded, saving me from a reply.

“Jack’s at the door,” I said. “Or, at least, I hope it’s Jack.”

“If it’s not, leave it locked.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

It was indeed Jack. With food.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he walked in. “Just went two doors down. Got ambushed. He missed. Had to hide the body, though. Took a while.”

“I know you’re joking, but given our recent history, I wouldn’t be shocked if you weren’t.”

“Yeah.” He brought the food to the table and, without even looking over, said, “Everything okay?”

“If I say yes, are you going to call bullshit?”

“Yep.” He paused, his hand still on a sandwich wrapper. He looked over. “Quinn call?”

“No, Evelyn.”

“Ev—” He looked at the food. “Ah, fuck. I fell for it.”

“Don’t feel bad. She tricked me, too . . . into admitting that we’re together by pretending you’d already told her.”

“She could have asked me.”

“Oh, but that would be no fun at all.” I pulled out a chair, sat, and punched a straw into my drink. “That’s not what she was calling about. I’d like to think she wouldn’t send you out into the street, following assassination attempts, just to find out the status of our relationship. There was something else she needed to speak to me about.”

“Supposed to come through me.”

“Yes, except that in this case, she was right to do an end run around you.”

I told him what Evelyn had said. I wasn’t starting a relationship with Jack by keeping secrets. But by the time I’d finished, he looked stunned and a little queasy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned—” I began.

“No.” He shook it off. “Course not. Just . . . Didn’t think . . . Fuck. I didn’t think.”

“Let’s face it—this is a risk I accepted when I took Paul Tomassini’s first job offer. There was always the chance that I’d be caught and I’d have two choices. Run or accept my punishment.”

He looked over sharply. “Hope there’s no question which you’d choose.”

“In the beginning, honestly, I think I would have given myself up. Gone to jail, because that’s what I would have felt I deserved. Now, though, there’s no question. I’d run.”

“Good.” He paused. “You probably don’t want to talk about it. The possibility.”

“No, actually I do. I’ll feel better knowing I have a plan. If Evelyn tells Contrapasso who I am, and, for whatever reason, they turn me in or threaten to, I’d give the lodge to the Waldens. Then I’d take Scout and leave. You have most of my money in safekeeping, so I’d be okay.”

He nodded. “Got your money. Would get you out. Set you up. New identity. New lodge.”

“A new lodge?” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to do that again.”

“Yeah, you could. Would. I’d make sure of it. Buy it for you.”

“Jack, I’d never let you—”

“Too bad. I would.” He leaned over the table. “I’d do it because I want to and because I can. Got enough money to buy you ten lodges, Nadia, and not a fucking thing I want to spend it on.” He straightened. “Not going to discuss this now. You’ll just argue. Any luck? Never have to discuss it at all. But it happens? You’ll be okay.”

I smiled. “I know I will.”

He squeezed my hand and then gathered the trash from our meal as he stood. “Was thinking while I was out. Few things we can follow up on. Leave Chicago. Head to New York. Couple stops on the way. Safer out of Chicago anyway.”

“Agreed,” I said. “I’ll go pack my stuff.”