“I hid out in someone’s shed, and the next morning, I hitched a ride to Sunset Lake. Packard and I worked that out ahead of time, if I got in trouble, go to the old lake house my family used to own.”
I held up a hand. “Whoa. Packard knew where you were?”
“Yeah, he didn’t tell you?”
That jackhole. “No, he didn’t. Sorry, Ax, finish your story.”
“So I broke in and was there four days. I couldn’t call you because the phone and electricity had been shut off. But they had some bottled water in the garage and some canned veggies, so I made do.”
“How did Sullivan find you, hon?” Ma asked.
“I don’t know. Saturday afternoon, I’m on the deck soaking up some rays, next thing I know, Henry’s hauling me out to the SUV.”
“I saw a picture of you bound and gagged, Ax,” I said.
“Did they hurt you?” Eric asked.
“Henry smacked me around a little. ‘Where was the hard drive? What had I done with the hard drive?’ Then Sullivan played good cop. If I told them where it was, they’d let me go home. But I kept quiet.
“They only let me have water. No food. But then yesterday afternoon, Ron comes in with a sack of burgers and bunch of video games. Wouldn’t tell me why.”
I squeezed his hand. “I called Sullivan yesterday, told him I had access to the hard drive. I wish I had called him sooner. I’m so sorry, Ax.”
He squeezed back. “It wasn’t your fault.” Ma passed him the cookie bag and he let go of my hand again to eat.
“By the way, look what I found when I searched the house.” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the files, then reached into my belt and snagged the USB drives I’d stolen from Sullivan’s desk.
“This is Pack’s file,” Eric said, taking it from my hand and paging through it. “It has all his financials. How much he makes, what he owes, credit reports. Plus, there’s personal info in here. Stuff about you, Ax, and your mom, random pictures of everyone in the family. It wouldn’t have been hard to find out about the house at Sunset Lake. People do what’s familiar.”
Ma angled her head so she could read through her trifocals. “Here’s a file on Martin Mathers. And another on Arthur Briggs. ”
Eric whistled and rubbed his head. “The mayor? Man.” He blinked a few times then looked at me. “What have you done, Rose?”
“She did the only thing she could do,” Roxy said. “She took out an insurance policy.”
“I thought I could make two or three copies of everything and put them in different — hopefully safe — places.”
Steve looked up at me. “That’s good thinking.”
Eric rubbed his hands together. “Okay then, I guess we should start scanning all this crap.”
Chapter 32
“I know I don’t have an appointment,” I told the receptionist for the third time, “but I need to see him today.” I pointed to a chair in the waiting room. “And I’m going to sit there until I do.” I flounced away and sat down next to a side table piled high with news magazines.
I had already left Dane four messages. The optimistic side of me said he was probably tied up in court or busy with a client. The rational side said he was avoiding me.
I picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. The copies of the files burned a hole in my bag. I barely kept myself from checking every five minutes to see if they were still there.
They were very detailed, containing financial records, personal stats, and the amount each person owed with coordinating dates, times and bets. It was all very factual and impersonal. I read over my own file twice. It was a little sad how thin and boring it was. But at least I didn’t owe Sullivan money.
Ma gave me the day off so I could take care of business. I went to the bank and opened a safe deposit box to hold one hard copy and one set of memory cards. She advanced me a week’s salary to pay for it. I wasn’t too happy about that, but since I’d emptied my bank account buying stuff like underpants and secondhand sweats, I had to suck it up.
I glanced at the clock every few minutes. The woman sitting next to me gave me the stink eye. Probably because I kept shifting in my chair and clicking my nail nubs against the arm rests.
An hour later Dane walked into the office accompanied by a beautiful blonde in an expensive navy suit. She smiled up at him, laughing at something he’d said. A little bolt of jealousy zapped my chest and I jumped to my feet, wishing I’d worn something nicer than break-Axton-out-of-jail sweats.
When he saw me his eyes widened in surprise. “Rose.” The blonde had been mid-hair flick when he stopped. She looked at him in confusion for a second, and then stared at me. And not in a happy way.
“Sorry I’m here unannounced, but I need to talk to you.” I looked from him to the beautiful woman now glaring at me. “In private.”
“Of course. Is everything all right?”
He took my elbow, his companion forgotten, and steered me toward the inner office door.
“Dane,” she said sharply.
He stopped and turned back to the blonde. His hand, still clamped on my elbow, forced me to turn with him. “I’m sorry. Rose Strickland, this is Amy Phipps. Amy, Rose.” He nodded his head between us.
Amy smiled. Sincere, professional, with the right touch of warmth. I wasn’t fooled for a minute. “Are you a client of Dane’s?”
“No, Rose is a friend,” he said, answering for me.
“So nice to meet you, Amy,” I said.
“Excuse us.” Dane led me away again. Over my shoulder, I smirked. Her phony smile turned to a scowl.
He hustled us into his office and shut the door. The office was on the small side, with one window and a large desk. A glass-covered case containing books of codes and statutes stood next to it.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He set his briefcase on the floor and settled me into one ugly green client chair before dropping into the second chair, angling toward me so our knees almost touched.
“Axton’s back.”
“That’s great.” He pulled me into a hug. It felt nice. Plus, he smelled good, like cedar and coffee. He finally leaned back a bit, but kept his hands on my shoulders. My knees were wedged between his now.
“How did this happen? Did Sullivan just let him go?”
I cleared my throat. “Not exactly.”
“Did Axton escape?”
I took a deep breath and shifted my gaze to his tie. It was navy with little red dots in a diamond pattern. “Not exactly.”
He dropped his hands and sat back in the chair. “All right, tell me.”
“Roxy and I broke him out.”
“What?” He stood, and with his hands in his pockets, he began pacing the length of the small office. Six steps to the window, pivot, six steps to the wall behind me. Rinse and repeat.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I needed to get Axton out of there. And since Sullivan has the Chief of Police in his pocket… Anyway, I need to hire you.”
Dane looked out the window, his back to me. I could see the line of tension in his shoulders. “Yes, of course. But you might need a more experienced defense attorney. One of the partners, maybe.”
“Why would I need a defense attorney?”
He faced me then. “I assume you’re worried about Sullivan pressing charges.”
“Sullivan pressing charges against me? He broke into my place first. And he kidnapped Axton. Wait. Before I tell you anything, Dane, I need to hire you.”
