Mac's Angels: The Last Dance: A Loveswept Classic Romance (16 page)

“But this time she was serious.”

“She was and it’s hard to tell whether Mac or Jessie carries around the most guilt.”

Sterling finished her lunch in silence, picking out the shrimp and leaving the rest untouched. What a group of wounded people they were. Mac and Jessie were prisoners of their past pain, hiding away in a mountain. She’d also hidden herself away in a prison. Now she was going to disappear, become another person in a new life where she’d be just as much a prisoner as she was before.

Back in her quarters, Sterling picked up the gift she discovered outside Mac’s door, still wrapped in shiny paper and Christmas ribbons. More secrets, she thought as she ripped the foil away revealing a small box. Inside the box was a handmade, roughly crafted bell. A slip of paper enclosed explained that the bell was a replica of the one in the chapel by the lake at the foot of the mountain.

The legend of the bell explained that early Spanish travelers retreated to the mountain in time of trouble to ask for help. The people in the valley below knew when they heard the bells ring that their prayers had been answered.

An artist, recovering at Shangri-la from drug addiction, had sculpted the bell, ringing it triumphantly when he left. Mac had the piece reproduced and given to all who came to the mountain searching for refuge.

Sterling cradled the small rough piece of art in her hand. Would it ring for her?

Vincent Dawson sat at the bar and cradled his drink with one hand. He was waiting, waiting for the man who would erase all his problems. Downtown Washington in December was a lonely place. Congress had been adjourned. Most of the senators and representatives had taken their families home. But he’d come back alone. That move was rare, for he usually stayed at his boss’s side. In order to make his return to the capital believable, he hinted that he had a new lady friend who lived there.

Much of the work he did for the senator had never been revealed. March was weak and easily led, but now and then a stubborn streak of decency, a result of his wife’s rapidly eroding influence, asserted itself. He was confused and scared by the airport incident. Vincent explained that the search of the airport was brought on by a bomb scare, but that it had been nothing to worry about.

Having sat at the bar for over an hour, Vince decided that Jonah apparently wasn’t coming.

He drained his glass, stood, and buttoned his overcoat before exiting into the wind and cold. As he walked toward his car a figure joined him.

“About time,” the man said.

“Who are you?” Vincent asked, glancing around at the deserted street. He could be mugged or killed and nobody would know.

“Who’d you send for?”

“Jonah?”

“Let’s not use names. Get in your car and tell me what you need.”

That wasn’t what Vincent had in mind. Talking in a bar was one thing. Driving off with a hit man was not the kind of risk he was prepared to take.

“Make up your mind. Either we go together, or I’m out of here.”

Vince unlocked the car doors and crawled behind the wheel. Jonah waited until the lights in the car went off, then got inside.

“Drive.”

Fourteen blocks later Vincent had explained his situation.

“Everybody knows about that mountain. It’s a fortress. No one could get inside. Draw the woman out and I’ll take care of her.”

“How?”

“That’s up to you. There’s a chapel on the lake at the base of the mountain. Get her there. Once it’s set up, call me at this number. It’ll cost you fifty thousand dollars cash.”

“Fifty thousand dollars? I don’t have that much.”

“Then you’d better get it. You’ve got three days.”

“You’ll be at this number?”

“No, but my answering machine will. Just say ‘Rendezvous at midnight’ and I’ll know.”

For the next three days both Mac and Jessie avoided Sterling. Even Elizabeth seemed distant.

The only friendly face in the compound was Burt’s and he constantly plied her with food, pretending that nothing was different.

“Sorry, Sterling, Mac doesn’t cut me in on his plans unless I need to know,” Burt told her one afternoon in her quarters.

“Would you tell me if he did?”

“No, probably not.”

“I haven’t seen much of Jessie,” she said. “Is she—okay?”

“If you’re asking if she’s upset about you and Mac, I don’t think so. Confused maybe. Even though she’s happy for her father, sharing you with him is something she’ll have to get used to.”

“Burt, I’m not sharing Mac with anyone!”

“Good for you. He needs someone to give it to him but good.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m leaving. I can’t stay here. But I can’t leave, not without his approval. I don’t even know the way out.”

“This isn’t about leaving, this is about Mac,” Burt said. “You won’t let yourself care about Mac. Why? Are you afraid that he doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t feel any way, Burt. Mac brought me here and he’s completely taken over my life. I’ll admit it would be easy to just let him, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Burt glanced at her, puzzled. “I was under the impression that you called Mac and
asked
for his help.”

“Well—I did. But I didn’t expect all—this.”

“Sterling, most people turn to those they care about when trouble comes. Just like you did.”

She looked at Burt, with all the sadness she felt apparent in her eyes. “Yes, but don’t you see, Mac helps everyone. I’m just the latest of his projects.”

“I don’t think so,” Burt protested. “And neither do you or Mac. You just don’t know how to let go of the pain you’ve wrapped yourself in. That might hurt even more.”

Long after Burt left, Sterling thought about what he said. Mac was no stranger to her. Granted, she’d never seen him before her arrival in New Orleans, but they’d talked so often, about so much. No, that wasn’t true. They’d talked about the football player
who couldn’t face a future outside of sports and the young woman assigned to help him find another future to focus on. There was the librarian who lost her memory and the Gypsy doctor who helped restore it. And then Conner, who’d been separated from Erica by a lie that nearly cost them everything.

Now Mac had taken on Sterling Lindsey, whether she wanted it or not. Maybe if she knew she could leave, she wouldn’t feel so trapped.

Sterling finally turned to her only link to escape, her computer. It was time she learned about Shangri-la.

After extensive searching, she found a topographical map of the mountain and the surrounding area, both before Mac’s alterations and after.

Their arrival had been cloaked in darkness and Mac’s window on the world didn’t show the area directly beneath the steep cliffs. But the map revealed a large lake at the base, fed by the underground river in which she’d swum for her exercise.

Later that afternoon she explored the path of the water as a potential escape route. She managed to enter the hole in the rock through which the water disappeared, but it soon narrowed to several smaller openings, too small for her to get through.

Discouraged, she went back to the office, where she found the elevators that led to the top, but those going to the base of the fortress were in a different location. And she had no doubt that Mac had made the exit too difficult to use and hidden it so well that outsiders couldn’t gain access to it.

Still from the hushed tones of Mac’s friends, she knew that Jonah was a feared man. If anyone could get to her, it would be Jonah. And if that happened, Mac and Jessie would be in danger. She couldn’t let that happen. Not to two people she loved.

Love? Where had that come from? She was simply a friend to Jessie and a willing playmate in Mac’s bed. There was no room for, nor any suggestion of, love or commitment. There couldn’t be. The obstacles and the risks were too great.

Vincent Dawson might not be her biggest enemy, after all. She had to find a way to escape.

For hours she looked at the plans, thinking, studying, coming up with new ideas, and discarding them. Finally, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Vincent Dawson might not be able to get in, but it appeared equally unlikely that she would be able to get out. She started looking for Mac but couldn’t find him anywhere.

She finally gave up and went to Jessie’s room. “I hate to bother you, Jessie, but do you know where your father is?”

“I haven’t been able to find him. I … I thought he was with you.”

“I haven’t seen him for several days.”

“But you work in the office right next door and you two are …”

“We aren’t anything, Jessie. You jumped to conclusions that were—wrong.”

She looked puzzled. “But I thought … I mean
I know Mac is … interested in you. Anyone can see that.”

“He only thought he was. At any rate, that’s all over. But I do need to talk to him, and he seems to be avoiding me. Do you think you could find him?”

Jessie studied Sterling for a moment and said exactly what was on her mind. “Let me tell you something, Sterling. Whatever Mac does, he thinks it through and then he acts. If he didn’t do that with you, it’s because you hit him broadside when he wasn’t expecting it.” She grinned. “Imagine that, the big man got himself into something he couldn’t handle and he ran.”

“Jessie, I don’t think it’s quite like that. There are some things you don’t know, things I’m not at liberty to tell.”

“No problem, Sterling. He’s always telling me to break out of this jail and get a life. It’s time he had a little help practicing what he preaches.” She picked up the phone. “Elizabeth, I’d like to speak to my father. Where is he?”

She listened a moment. “I don’t believe that. You always know where he is.” She punched another number on the phone. “Burt, where’s my father?” Her expression was even more puzzled as she dialed yet a third time. “Joseph, tell my father that I have a problem and I need to speak to him immediately.”

Finally, she replaced the handset and turned to Sterling. “I don’t understand. Nobody seems to know where he is. Either he’s left the mountain or he’s refusing to talk to me.”

“I can’t believe he’d refuse to talk to you, Jessie. Is it possible that he has left? Would you know if he did?”

“No,” she admitted, “not unless he told me. There are helicopters and planes coming and going around here all the time.”

“What about cars? Does everyone fly in and out?”

“No. I think that some of the construction materials are trucked in. And food supplies. But the only way I’ve left the mountain—since the … accident … is by air.”

Sterling knew how hard that statement was for Jessie to make. So far Jessie had never talked about the accident except to say her mother had been killed and she’d been hurt. Sterling wondered how much she remembered.

“Your accident occurred here?”

“Yes. My mother … lost control of the car going down the mountain. It shot over the edge and landed in the lake. I was thrown out. She drowned.”

“Do you know where the automobiles are kept?”

Jessie frowned. “I must have known once. But not now. I can’t remember. Maybe Mac closed off the way.”

Back at her computer, Sterling searched the archives once more. Finally, just as her eyes were crossing with exhaustion, she found it. The underground garage. It wasn’t at the base of the mountain as she might have expected. It was about halfway to
the top. The way to the bottom was apparently hazardous and no longer used.

Sterling leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Complications. Complications. She could almost understand Alice. Though she could never know what drove the tormented woman to suicide, she knew Mac well enough to know that he’d done everything possible to help Alice. Just as he was helping her. And she, too, was dying to escape. Like Alice, her own simple world had become more complicated than she could face.

Then a voice came on her computer. “You have mail.”

She sat up. “Mac?”

The message spelled itself out on the screen.
Sterling, I have Mr. McAllister. I think you know that it’s you I want. A simple trade will save him. Come alone, to the chapel on the lake, at dawn
.

There was no name at the bottom.

Jonah. The man who was sent to kill her wasn’t going to invade Shangri-la; he’d found a way to make her come to him. She glanced at her watch. It said twelve midnight. She estimated that she had five hours before dawn. In five hours she had to find the way out of the mountain and to the chapel. Mac couldn’t be sacrificed for her. There was Jessie to think about.

Sterling had cheated death once. Now she had to face the possibility that she might not be that lucky the second time around.

Hastily, she composed a note to Conner. He
ought to be told that Dawson had Mac and knew what she was doing, in case she failed. Briefly, she explained the situation, typed the E-mail, and set the computer to send it at seven
A.M.
That way, if she managed to free Mac, he could head off Conner’s armed response and avoid bloodshed.

Sterling printed out the map of the old garage and the exit down the mountain. From the schematic, she could see no way to reach it, but that was the only way she could escape unnoticed by Mac’s “Big Brother” spying system.