Heroes In Uniform (171 page)

She gave him a brisk nod. “Fine with me. We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Gage turned away from her. Without glancing back he muttered, “There is no best of it.”

* * *

He had a fascination with Don Corleone and had adopted the title of “Don” for himself, a title that commanded respect and instilled fear.

When he arrived at Billy Wilder’s cabin, the Don didn’t wait for his driver to open the door to the upscale SUV, but opened it himself and left the vehicle. The inclement weather would have prevented him from getting here at all if this cabin had not been low on the mountain and near the main road. As it was, the storm had severely extended the time to drive here and impatience was riding him hard. He moved as quickly as possible over the snow and ice to the front door.

Inside, the minions who worked for his minion Billy Wilder scurried out of his way or risked being mowed down as the Don made his way to the den where he told Wilder to await his arrival. The Don paid them no mind. His thoughts were consumed by the fact that his organization had been infiltrated by a federal agent.

One of the underlings sprang forward and flung open the door to the den. Wilder was seated behind a desk. His striped tie was askew. His thinning hair was disheveled as if he’d been running his fingers through it. An odor of perspiration carried on the air. Fear sweat. Wilder should be anxious and afraid. The Don pressed his lips together. It was Wilder’s fault that they were in this situation now with the woman. The Don pinned Wilder with a look that had the man’s Adam’s apple bouncing.

Wilder sprang up from behind the desk and vacated the chair. “Hello, sir.” His voice cracked.

Without returning the greeting, the Don commandeered the chair and said sharply, “Where are they? I expected they would already be here.”

Wilder’s Adam’s apple bobbed again. “On the way, sir. They should be here any minute.”

Someone tapped lightly on the door on the heels of Wilder’s statement. Without looking at him, the Don said, “That better be them.”

Wilder admitted two men into the room. A woman was not with them.

“What are you two doing here?” Wilder said. “Get out.” He flung out his arm. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

One man, a small, thin fellow coughed behind his hand. “As to that, if the something you’re in the middle of has to do with Miles and Hugo, they aren’t coming.”

Wilder’s face went corpse-pale. He cast a nervous glance to the Don. “What are you talking about?”

The small man spoke up again. “There was an accident. On the road. Miles and Hugo are dead.”

“Wha—”

The Don could not have cared less about this Miles and Hugo. He cut off Wilder’s sputtering. “And the woman? Is she also dead?”

If so, he would not be able to find out what she’d learned of his organization and who she’d told about it. He clenched his fist. Added to that, he would not have the pleasure of making her very, very sorry for involving herself in his business dealings.

“Gone,” the thin man replied.

The Don spread his palms on the desk and rose slowly out of the chair. “What do you mean, gone?”

The underling patted the back of his hand against his upper lip that was now glistening with perspiration. He cleared his throat. “When Jim, here,” he jutted his thumb in the direction of the stoop-shouldered man beside him, “and me come upon the crash site, we saw her. She saw us and hightailed it into the mountains. We left the van and chased her on foot but the snow was just coming down too hard and we lost her in the storm.”

“You lost her!” Wilder got in the face of the small man. “You shouldn’t have bothered coming back here without her!” Wilder turned to the Don. “Sir, I apologize for my people’s incompetence. It’s inexcusable. I’ll make sure these two are severely discip–”

“There is only one thing you are going to do. And you are going to do this immediately.”

Wilder opened wide, hopeful eyes. “Yes, sir? Anything.”

The Don eyed Wilder, giving the man a look that had made many lose control of their bodily functions. Wilder’s breathing became short and audible. Perspiration began to trickle down his cheeks.

The Don’s voice vibrated with anger. “Find her.”

Snowbound: Chapter Four

Gage’s last words—there is no best of it—angered Mallory all over again. She had every intention of staying as far away from him as the tight space in the cabin allowed. With his disposition, he need not be concerned that she would be seeking out his company.

She went to the front door, giving the knob a twist. She hadn’t locked it when she came inside with Gage’s ID tight in her fist. She’d been distracted and angry. The door, though, was locked. He must have done that when she’d gone into the washroom for pain reliever.

Up here in this isolated location and in a blizzard, Gage had no reason to keep the door locked. Whether it was out of habit or training, she was glad to find it that way. Though, she acknowledged, the flimsy lock would not be a deterrent to Considine’s crew.

“Thinking of going out again?” Gage said dryly.

She hadn’t heard him come up behind her.

She faced him. “Checking the lock.” She matched his tone, adding. “Not much of one.”

“Don’t need much of one. Just enough to keep the raccoons from turning the door knob and getting in on summer nights.”

Summer nights? “When did you come up here?”

“August.”

With that he left her and went into the bedroom.

It was now February. That made it . . . six months.

If he’d been up here for six months, he wasn’t on vacation. Could he also be working? That would explain his curt dismissal of her when she’d asked what he was doing up here. Being up here in the mountains could be a cover.

She followed him into the bedroom, stepping carefully to avoid the broken glass from the mirror that glittered on the floor. Gage had left her bra and panties, now dry, on the bed. He was at the chest of drawers, rifling through the contents.

Mallory went to him. “Are you working a case?”

He looked up from the drawer. “Do I look like I’m on the job?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, I’m not working.”

“Is that the truth? Because I have no desire to mess up your case. I’m only asking because I need to know if we can also expect trouble from whatever you’re involved in.”

“No one’s coming looking for me.”

While she found that reassuring, she found it only marginally so. There was a finality to the words, to his tone, that she found unsettling. “When are you expected back at police headquarters?”

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I want to know who I’m sharing space with.”

He closed the drawer with a loud thud. “You’re sharing my space, remember?”

Before she could press him further, he scooped up the clothing, walked by her and went into the hall. A couple of minutes later, she heard the shower.

Another non answer from her reluctant host. She was so ready to leave here. Leave him. But she did get the answer she needed. He wasn’t working so she didn’t have the added worry of someone he was involved with also showing up here.

Was there any chance the storm had ended during her conversation with Gage? In the living area she took up a position at the window. Leaning a hip on the wide sill, she pushed the curtains back with a fingertip. Of course the storm had not ended. Snow was coming down so hard it was impossible to make out individual flakes. It looked like solid sheets. The snow storm had likely saved her life, but at the moment she couldn’t be thankful for the bad weather. As long as she was stuck here, she could do nothing for the women. Feeling helpless, she gripped the edge of the thick blue curtain in a tight fist.

Watching the storm would not make it stop and she would only drive herself crazy. She could feel her muscles tensed, ready to spring and her nerves as taut as bow strings.

She pushed off the window sill, letting the curtain fall back into place, then took the broom and dust pan from the kitchen and cleared the glass she’d broken in the bedroom. After, she put on her underthings.

She began a slow walk around the cabin. She needed to keep moving. She didn’t want her muscles to stiffen any more than they had already or she feared she wouldn’t be able to move at all.

Though there wasn’t much ground to cover, she went only a few steps before she sagged into an armchair that matched the couch. So much for moving around. Each step was an adventure in pain and took her breath.

The bed things were still strewn across the couch. Clearly Broderick wasn’t a stickler for neatness. He’d spent six months here. Six months. How often did he leave the mountain and go into town? Considering his unfriendly manner with her, she doubted he drove into town daily to socialize. A small chest freezer backed against one wall. If he’d stacked it with frozen meals, he’d have enough to last him for weeks or months at a time.

He had no means of communication. She couldn’t imagine being out of touch with the world and the people she knew and loved.

She couldn’t understand why he would choose this solitude. And over his job with the police department. Had the stress of the job gotten to him? Was he a disgraced cop who fled from a dishonorable conduct? Could he have been involved in something that provoked his leave from the Washington PD?

She wasn’t comfortable with him. Part of that was due to his hostile reception. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want her there, but that wasn’t all of it. She didn’t trust him. She knew next to nothing about him. The fact that he was not forthcoming, about anything, had her guard up around him.

A glance around the cabin showed very little that she could say for sure belonged to Gage. In the months he’d been here he hadn’t accumulated much stuff. Aside from his outerwear by the door, there was just a set of weights and a bench press in one corner that she believed were his because the equipment looked well-used and would explain the hard muscled body she’d seen earlier and felt pressed against her. She didn’t care for the thought and continued her inventory of the cabin.

A bookcase held an assortment of classics and hard boiled mysteries from the forties. There was a film of dust on the cases and spines. They hadn’t been touched in a long time. Likely, the books belonged to the cabin’s owner.

There were no photographs of Gage with people in his life. No souvenirs. No mementos. There was essentially nothing to give her a handle on the man, himself.

She heard the bathroom door open, then Gage emerged from the shower, dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt. The first word that popped into her mind to describe him was formidable. Another quickly followed, handsome as her mind filled with the image of his upper body without the shirt. The man was hot.

She blew out a breath. How he looked didn’t matter to her. What did matter was the manner of man he was. She didn’t have an adjective for that. She twisted her lips. Not a flattering one, at any rate.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Despite his complaints about her being there—and they had been numerous—he had taken her in and treated her injuries. Treated them gently and with care which she had to admit surprised her, given his downright rude attitude.

The shower hadn’t improved that attitude, she observed. The rest of the day went by without them exchanging a word and the silence continued as they ate chicken dinners. When Mallory was finished with her meal and had discarded the remains and washed her utensils, she went to the window. She pulled back the curtain just enough to see outside. It was still light out and the snow was still blowing strong.

“Tell me about Considine.”

Gage’s voice startled her after so many hours of silence, even if the question didn’t. It was understandable that Considine would be on Gage’s mind as well. Mallory released the curtain and turned to address Gage. Where to begin? “We’ve been wanting to go after Considine for a long time. Congressman Pritchard Manning spearheaded a task force dedicated to bringing down Considine. Considine’s organization controls the drug trafficking, prostitution, and racketeering for the entire state. You name it.” She lifted a shoulder, let it fall. “We know all this, but haven’t been able to touch him. On paper, he’s as clean as that fresh snow outside.”

“You said that the club you worked at is a front for human trafficking?”

“Yeah. That’s a new one on Considine. We had no idea about that.”

“Who owns the club?”

“It’s registered to a William Wilder who is also the club manager,” Mallory said. “I’m looking to tie him to Considine when we bust the trafficking operation open.”

“What makes you think Considine is behind this trade?”

“From what I learned, the business is too big for him not to be. No way a small timer like Wilder is running that. For one thing, he doesn’t have the brains. He’s taking orders from someone. Considine is the logical choice. It has to be him!”

She could not keep how she felt about Considine in check and heard her own vehemence. As did Gage. His gaze grew intent on her.

“Right now,” she went on, “my main concern is getting to the women before they’re shipped out of the country. Once they’re gone,” Mallory shook her head slowly, “they’ll be lost forever.”

“Do you have a date for their transport?”

“No. Just their current location. Or, that is, their location as of when my cover was blown. Two men from the Don’s crew were taking me to a cabin somewhere in these mountains to be interrogated when the car went off the road. That was the car accident I mentioned earlier. The men in the vehicle with me were killed but two more of Considine’s people showed up and I had to make a run for it into the mountain. I lost them and ended up here. By now the women could have been moved.” She rubbed her forehead where a headache was brewing between her brows. “I’m hoping that since Considine wanted to interrogate me, he doesn’t know just what I found out about his organization. He may not know that I found out about the women.”