her, making everything seem a little colder.
So, when she’d gone into London with Jack’s throng of bodyguards, she hadn’t held back all that much. Anywhere and everywhere that she found something that made her feel more comfortable, that brought her some semblance of peace and warmth, she latched onto it and put it on his card.
She’d even purchased a pair of Ugg boots, even though it was May and the boots were therefore on sale. Which sort of rankled. She finally got a chance to spend big bucks and what did society go and do? Make the object of her desire
But, once she’d gotten the boots back to the apartment and put them on, her opinion of them had changed in a heart beat. They were warm! They were soft! Comfortable! And easy to run in! The list could go on and on.
She vowed to buy more next winter season. With her own money.
And that was another thing that had been shadowing her of late. She was out of a job and wondered when she would next have one. She didn’t like the idea of being unemployed. It was… nerve wracking. She needed something to do, and preferred it to be something half-way important to someone other than herself.
At DesignMax, she’d made peoples’ businesses boom by giving them beautiful web pages that were eye- catching, informative, and easy to operate. She’d been able to rely upon her inherent creativity in this manner, while successfully making a living at it.
It was stressful. Some of the customers were jerks. But, deep down, she’d been happy. Happy enough, anyway.
Now… She felt as if she were floating, with no solid foundation beneath her and no clear picture before her of where she was going. She felt like she was just
“You okay, luv?” Jack asked her from where he sat in the driver’s seat – to her right. She wasn’t sure she would get used to that any time soon. Up ahead, cars zoomed by on the right side of the road and she had the minor urge to grab the wheel from Jack and steer them back over to the opposite side of the road, where her internal workings swore to her that they belonged.
“I’m fine,” she replied, dragging herself out of her thoughts for a moment. She glanced at him and then glanced back out the window. “So, I guess Sam’s pretty wealthy, huh?” She asked, sort of curious about assassins and their finances.
“Aye. The wealthiest among us.”
She gave him an impressed look. “Why’s that?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment and then narrowed his gaze on the road. “His father pulled a job in Dallas in the early sixties that set Sam up for good.”
Annabelle frowned. “His father?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “He had to go into deep cover after the job was completed, so the stipulation was that the payment be given to his son. And it was.”
“Big payment,” she muttered, thinking about how much money Sam would have to own to have more than any other assassin, including Jack.
Jack took a deep breath, his own expression a little troubled. “It was. One of the biggest.” He fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant. “Sam also has one advantage over everyone else in this field,” he said then. “He was raised by a piece man, so his training began very early. In the time he’s been working in this Business, he’s accumulated more money, on his own, than any other hired gun. Add to that his father’s money, and you have one rich man.”
Annabelle stared at Jack, wide-eyed. Not only because it was nearly impossible for her to even imagine that kind of money, but because she’d just figured out what job Samuel Price’s father had actually done.
“Early sixties… Dallas…” She mumbled.
Jack turned to her then, slowly placing his gloved index finger to his lips. That simple gesture was all she needed as a confirmation.
It was a good ten minutes before she was able to speak again. In that time, the stars had winked out above them as clouds had begun to roll in. They were stuck in traffic. It was Friday night.
Annabelle cleared her throat and rubbed her temples, which had begun to ache a little. “Can you explain something to me, Jack? About the Business?”
“Of course,” he answered softly.
“How is getting married time and again a ‘cover’?”
He shrugged. “Expensive honeymoons in foreign countries and large donations to churches help explain a lot of tax anomalies,” he told her simply. “It also provides the means to other codes, such as the one you heard me utter over the phone when I told an employee to ‘get Sherry to Rome’.”
Annabelle blinked up at him. She remembered that. After Max had been killed and the police had become suspicious about his apparent suicide, they’d gone to Jack’s house to question him. Jack hadn’t been there, of course. But his wife had. And she’d quickly made sure that Jack knew about the incident.
Annabelle could recall the phone conversation Jack had, word per word. “You said, ‘Get Sherry out of the country. She’s been wanting to visit Rome. Tell her that I’ve asked her to meet me there.’ Then you said, ‘a few days, four at most.’”
Jack’s brows raised. He cut his gaze to her and then turned back to the road. “You have an amazing memory, Bella.”
She shrugged. “Yeah.” She did. She always had. As Adrian Monk would say, it was a gift – and a curse.
“When I spoke those words, I was basically giving Sherry, herself, the heads-up on what was occurring. At the time, I wasn’t certain we weren’t being monitored and whenever possible, Bella, we try not to take chances.” He paused, formulating his explanation before he went on. “‘Rome’ is a red-alert term. I was making certain she understood that Detective Chen’s visit was sure to be followed up by whoever it was that killed Max.”
“What about the ‘she’s always wanted to visit’ part?”
“It comes from the term ‘nice place to visit, but wouldn’t want to live there’, and refers to the nearest safe house, wherever that happens to be at the time.”
“And the ‘few days, four at most’?”
“Sherry had asked me who was involved. That answer told her two things. One, I didn’t have a name, and two, there was more than one person involved.” He smiled at her. “Four at most.”
“Relax, luv. You’ll be fine,” Jack told her softly. He was eyeing her carefully, as if he could sense her overwhelmed apprehension. She caught his gaze for a moment and then pulled her eyes away. He turned back to the road.
“Jack, there’s something that’s been bothering me.”
Jack kept his gaze trained on the road. A fat raindrop landed on the windshield. And then another one. Only an hour before, the sky had been clear, the moon full. Now the night had drawn a blanket, thick and stifling. Lightning arced across the London sky line.
His black driving gloves tightened on the wheel.
“What is it?” he asked, keeping his tone even. It was hard. There was a storm coming. He could feel it. And it wasn’t just outside.
Annabelle hesitated a moment, and then cleared her throat. Her fingers nervously fiddled with the material of her dress. She pulled her white wrap more tightly around her shoulders and bit her lip.
“I saw the detail of men you had watching over your family.”
Jack said nothing. His grip grew tighter.
“There were quite a few of them even before you increased their number.” She paused. “And I couldn’t help but wonder…” She felt stupid asking this. Of course, his answer would be ‘no’. It couldn’t be anything other than ‘no’. After all, for all intents and purposes, he’d been married, right? Anyone going after the people he loved would go after his supposed wife and family. Not her. But she needed to hear it from him.
“Did… Did you ever have people watching me too?”
Lightning split the night sky. Thunder rolled.
