Read Promises After Dark (After Dark #3) Online
Authors: Kahlen Aymes
Before Angel was half way through the song, Jillian was fast asleep, and Angel was able to stop and move to the end of the bed across from where Becca waited.
“What’s the deal? You want me to cancel the party?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so, but we can’t be at it.” Angel’s expression was apologetic, and she kept her voice just barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, but that fucker kidnapped, and most likely murdered, one of the bodyguards. It’s too dangerous.”
“Maybe for you, but I can’t cancel my kid’s party, Angel. My parents have gone to so much trouble.”
“I understand.” Angel had as well, but it was of little consequence. “But, Swanson called me tonight and demanded an unthinkable amount of money. He thinks I can get Alex to do it, and he said he knew about Jill’s party. We can always re-do the party, but it’s too dangerous to be there when Swanson or his goon troop might show up. We can’t risk it.”
“Oh, my God! Should I have my parents leave, too?”
“Maybe. Cole and Alex are making the plan. Only Cole and two others will be privy to the details, and all I know at this point is Cole is taking you, me, and Jillian away from Chicago.”
“This is really scary, Angel. Maybe you should have just let it go. Before, I mean.”
Angel’s mouth tightened. Yes, she should have. She’d already gone over it in her head twenty times, and she felt terrible that her friends were in danger because of her.
“Yes, I realize that, but what’s done is done. All we can do is deal with this shit now. I’m sorry! If there were another way, I promise, I wouldn’t ask this, Becca. I wish it didn’t involve you or Bean, but Alex isn’t taking any chances. I know him, and he’ll protect everyone involved, but that means following his plan, whatever it is.” She sucked in her breath and stood up, rushing back to her task of gathering a few toiletries and shoving them in her bag. “I trust him.”
“I can see that or you’d be kicking him in the balls for ordering you around.” Seeing Angel’s distress, Becca tried to lighten the mood; though she also felt anxious and frightened.
“He’s involved because of me. Everyone is involved because of me.” Angel picked up the last couple of things from the bathroom counter and walked briskly back, shoving them with more force than was needed into her bag. Her heart was racing, and she felt sick to her stomach; the back of her eyes began to burn with unshed tears. “Do you know how hard it was for me to sing to Jillian when I blame myself for everything? I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
Becca watched Angel zip up the bag and dump it on the floor next to the bedroom door. From what Angel had said, Mark Swanson was a weasel-y little man, so she wondered how serious a threat he could really be in the face of Cole and the other bodyguards. “You said he probably murdered someone?”
“Yes. Last Friday night at the radio station, the man who was assigned to tail Swanson was abducted and his car burned… after Swanson called Alex and tried to extort money.”
“I take it your boy told him what he could do with his threats.”
Angel ran an agitated hand through her hair and sat back down on the bed to finish the conversation. She nodded. “Yes. But, when Swanson called me, I could hear the evil in his voice, Becca. He won’t stop even if he gets the money. That’s what scares me.”
“How much money?”
“Ten million.”
Becca’s eyes widened, and she swallowed.
“My nature wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s crazed. He’s capable of anything, and to goad him would be sheer stupidity.”
“Will Alex give him the money?”
Angel’s dark eyes met hers. “Not likely. We think it would only make him more relentless, but he may have changed his mind. Cole will know.”
“Should we go downstairs and try to find out?”
“Yes.” Both women stood and walked across the large room toward the door. Jillian was still fast asleep on the bed. “But, I’m fairly sure we’ll be leaving tonight.”
Becca sucked in her breath and followed Angel silently down the stairs and into the great room. Cole was talking to Wayne and Sid, all of them concentrating on what the others had to say and didn’t hear them come in.
“So, what about the party?” Sid asked.
“It goes on as planned. I’ve called the detectives on the case, and they’ve agreed to assign more operatives. You’re to go downtown and pick up two detectives they are assigning to the case. One is a woman. Bring them back here and give them access to the house.”
Angel and Becca walked in, and Angel cleared her throat. “Alex is letting someone else in here?”
Cole’s head turned at the sound of Angel’s voice, and he nodded before he even registered he was doing so. “Yeah. Go,” he said to Wayne and Sid. “I’ll be in close touch with you and the police. Alex demands we keep to the plan one-hundred-percent unless something unforeseen happens.”
Wayne put a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Good luck, young man.” In his words, Angel was reminded how much of a rookie Cole was. Cole nodded and shook Sid’s hand.
“It’s been great working with you guys. Hope you find Bancroft.”
Wayne nodded grimly, and both men turned and walked out.
After they left, Cole faced the girls, directing them toward the couch with his hand. “Have a seat.”
Becca sat down but Angel hesitated. Cole’s stoic demeanor was to be expected, but she wanted to know the plan and what was happening with Alex.
“What’s happening?” she asked, finally sinking slowly to sit next to Becca.
Cole tented the fingers of both hands but didn’t take a seat.
“We’re leaving. The local police will protect your parents, Becca, and the party will take place as planned. It will appear that way from the outside.”
“But, the guests?” Becca asked, her face twisting in disbelief.
“Will be decoys and all cops. Hopefully, none of the real guests are in Swanson’s pocket, but it’s a risk we have to take. Sid and Wayne will each have a team on stakeout outside, and a policewoman and her partner, disguised as you and I, Angel, will attend in our stead. She’ll use your car, etcetera.”
Angel nodded. “Okay.”
“What about the rest of us?”
“We’re leaving in the SUV that’s parked outside.”
“I have to get more clothes. I didn’t have much here.”
Cole sighed. He didn’t want to waste time, and Alex wouldn’t be pleased at the delay, but they’d need all the cash he and Angel could get out of a twenty-four hour ATM before they left the city. After that, there was to be no use of cards.
“Shit. I don’t really want the vehicle seen at your condo, Angel. The whole point is to slip away without anyone knowing. We don’t know who knows what or who may be watching. Alex doesn’t want us to take any chances.”
“I get it, but, I don’t have anything, and we can’t buy anything, right?” She looked at him without flinching, her mind already working through each scenario.
“Right.”
She stopped as she had a thought. “Kenneth might have a key. Maybe he can go get a bag for me. Or send someone.”
“Sending someone is preferable. Swanson’s crew knows Ken.”
“Yeah.” Angel nodded and got up to get her phone.
“I won’t tell my little brother that Ken still has a key.”
Angel was rummaging through her purse from the entryway and answered Cole from there. “I’m sure he’d rather that than us going, given the situation.”
Cole shook his head, skeptically. “I think we both know, he’d prefer neither one.”
*****
Becca was upstairs sleeping with Jillian, and Angel was lying down on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket Cole had found in an upstairs closet, with her laptop open in front of her on the coffee table. Time slogged by while they waited for Carrie, Ken’s assistant, to arrive.
Angel kept her computer on, hoping Alex would buzz her on Skype, but her eyes were getting heavy. It was close to 1 AM, which would make it late afternoon in Sydney. Was he still there? Even if he was on his way back, the chances of him being over the US were slim. He’d have to land on the West Coast for fuel.
Cole was stretched out on the second sofa, an exact mirror of the one Angel was curled up on and across the coffee table on the other side. His arm was flung over his eyes, even though the only light was coming from the property lights outside the house and filtering in through the window blinds. Cole insisted they be kept closed so it was only what could leak in around the edges.
“Where do you think Alex is?” she asked softly. She wasn’t sure if Cole was awake, but if not, he wouldn’t answer. She was surprised when he did.
“Not sure. I’m unclear on the rest time required for the pilots. I think it’s been enough time between flights, and if so, he will be on his way. He said there is some FAA regulation that requires pilots a certain amount of downtime for their hours in the air. He was pissed when he realized it could cause a delay. Alex is like a caged animal when he can’t do what he wants, when he wants to.”
“I’m sure he’s more anxious than usual, but I assume he’d be in touch.” She sighed softly, and turned onto her side. Her eyes closed. He’d been in Sydney less than 24 hours. But shouldn’t 24 hours be enough rest for the pilots?
“He is always engaged, Angel. Believe me; something is happening on his end.”
Yes, she knew if there were anything Alex could do from where he was, he’d do it. “I know.”
“He’ll call when he gets to LA. My guess is will be early morning when they land at LAX. Try to get a few hours of sleep, Angel. As soon as Carrie gets here, we’re out of here.”
“Where?”
“South.”
“Just South?”
“Yep.”
“I’d suggest my dad’s, but that’s probably the first place Swanson would look.”
“If he chooses to tail us. Alex hopes he’ll find that bastard before he knows we’re gone.”
“That’s why he’s coming to Chicago first?” Angel sat up and put her feet on the floor to face him. “Did the cops find something?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Cole got up off the sofa and walked into the kitchen. Angel listened to him clanging around and sat, stoic in the silence. She wanted to scream, her chest felt compressed, her frustration bottled up without an outlet.
“This sucks, Cole,” she said when he came back with a plate of sandwiches and two bottles of water. He handed her one of the waters and set the plate down, only to grab one of the sandwiches, taking a big bite. “I wish I could do something.”
“Yeah,” he said with his mouth full. “The waiting is the worst. I just want to get the hell out of here.” He took another bite and devoured it, glancing at his watch at the same time. Angel picked up one of the sandwiches and sniffed it. Peanut butter. “You should eat.”
Angel ate the sandwich then decided to go pack some food for them to take on the road trip, making a mental note to call Liz after 8 AM and tell her to cancel all of her appointments indefinitely.
Indefinitely… Fuck!
she thought.
That bastard has made chaos of so many lives.
Jason Bancroft and his family had paid so dearly. Her heart pounded and skipped a beat. She felt sick and helpless. Guilt, anger, and frustration permeated every cell in her body. That bastard had to pay. No matter what, he had to pay.
Cole’s walkie-talkie beeped and static loudly filled the silent house.
“The young lady has arrived with Dr. Hemming’s things
.
”
He picked it up and responded shortly. Angel was putting some fruit, crackers, chips, and some turkey and cheese sandwiches in a small cooler she’d found under the sink. As she listened to Cole crisply bark out orders, it was clear this job suited him, and he was assuming control in Bancroft’s absence. Cole was professional and in control; his demeanor all business.
“Have Sid follow her home, and you meet me in the garage with the stuff.” He came into the kitchen still speaking into the walkie-talkie and when he was done, he nodded toward the stairs. “Get Becca and the kid. We’re out of here.”
Alex was on his way to the airport. He’d called the current owner of the Australian hotel chain they were acquiring and explained he had a family emergency in the States and was unable to sign the contract at the same time. Fortunately, they’d discussed the terms of sale over dinner the prior evening and the details had been typed up by a secretary at the office earlier that morning while Alex was speaking to Angel. What started as a nice morning call turned into a nightmare with that bastard, Swanson, tormenting Angel, while he strained to hear what was being said from her other phone. It had spurred him into instant action.
Alex was so furious; it was all he could do to contain his anger. He was helpless in Australia, so he had to finish his business and get the fuck on a plane. The head of the Australian office sat across from him in the limousine on the way to the Sydney airport as Alex gave the contract a quick once-over, signed it, and left it with her for the other party to sign. He didn’t like to leave his deals open-ended, but in this case, there was no choice. Anxiety made him nauseous and his skin burn, his thoughts taunting that he shouldn’t have left Chicago with this shit up in the air. He’d known it when he’d boarded the goddamned plane at O’Hare, and now, he felt like a caged animal.
His demeanor was pensive, and he didn’t talk to the woman other than brief responses to her questions. He yanked at his tie to loosen it. “Please, send someone to the hotel to get my things and ship them to the office in Chicago,” Alex instructed, reaching into his suit jacket for the key card to his room and handed it to the woman. “Room 1215.”
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Avery. I learned a lot from listening to you negotiate the contract last night.” She knew better than to question something so important that Alexander Avery would leave his belongings at the hotel and fly off before a deal was done.
“My pleasure, Susan.” Alex tried to be pleasant, though his face showed strain. “Keep me informed, and good luck with the takeover.” He shook her hand.
“Yes, sir.”
The car arrived at the airport, barely stopping, when Alex bolted out the door and up the steps to the waiting plane. He had his laptop and that was it, but he didn’t care. Material things meant little in lieu of what was going on with Angel and Bancroft’s disappearance. Though all of the new security agents had thorough background checks, Alex was unsure whom he could trust beyond Cole, Sid, and Wayne, and told his brother the three of them were the only ones to know the details of the plan. The issue was, he needed to protect his parents, Allison and Josh, and also Becca’s family, so the others would have to be stationed with them. Keeping Becca and Jillian with Angel would help, but Allison and Josh would have to stay with the folks so that Wayne could be present there, leaving Sid to stay with the operatives at Becca’s parents’ home. Jesus, it was a logistical nightmare, and one he didn’t want to deal with. It was dangerous splitting Wayne, Sid, and Cole up, but with everything that needed to be watched, he had to have one person he knew for certain he could trust in each place.
When his seatbelt was buckled, Alex nodded to the pilot that he was free to request clearance from ground control so they could begin the taxi to the runway.
This was going to be a long fucking flight. It would take him as long to get to Chicago as it would for Cole to drive the girls to Joplin, and he was still jet lagged. He couldn’t have his ass dragging, but he acknowledged that sleep on the flight would be impossible. He was wound tighter than a drum. Joplin might not be the ideal place to send them. What if Mark Swanson knew Angel’s background? He might look there first, but at least Angel’s father, his good friend, and the friend’s son were there to help Cole protect them. It was a trade-off he’d have to live with.
Hopefully, the women could lay low at Angel’s childhood home with Jillian, while Cole and he hunted Swanson down. The cops in Chicago sure as hell weren’t going to get the job done, but that was the logical place to begin. Thank God for electronics. He was counting on the bank routing number and the cell tower used to transmit Swanson’s call to Angel to help pinpoint Swanson’s location. If that didn’t work, he’d have to call Swanson and arrange a meeting. The chances of that bastard falling for the bait were questionable, given his request for an electronic transfer. But it might be all he had. His hands curled into fists and Alex closed his eyes. This fucker was going down if it was the last thing he did.
The money would be a problem. Alex wasn’t able to send ten million even if he wanted to. He had it, but not all in cash, and it would take time to liquidate that much. Besides, he wasn’t going to pay off a fucking murderer. Swanson deserved a lot of things, but money wasn’t one of them.
Alex’s phone rang, and he removed it from the clip on his belt. It was his office in Chicago. The plane was moving, but not yet into position to take off, and though the plane had onboard cellular capability, his phone would need to be turned off during takeoff and landing. “Yes, Mrs. Dane?”
“Marvin Standish called. He said he is available to meet next Monday. Will that work, sir?”
Alex ran a hand over his face as the plane came to a stop, and the pilots did their run-up and system check. “No. I have an emergency. I’m on my way back to the US, now. I’ll call him myself.”
“I hope everything is all right, Mr. Avery.”
“Me, too. I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Dane.” Alex hung up and scrolled through his recent calls, finding the Standish Venture number.
“Sir, we’ve been cleared,” the pilot’s voice came over the cabin intercom. Alex shut down his phone. He had no choice but to wait until they cleared ten thousand feet, and the pilot gave him the okay to use his phone. He inhaled, his chest expanding, but resistant as the air filling his lungs. Tension had every muscle in his body aching and his chest felt like tight metal bands were constricting it.
Alex’s hand yanked at the dark rose and black silk tie he wore, loosening it and pulling it free. He freed two buttons on his dress shirt and sat back in his seat. He closed his eyes and mentally went over the plan as the plane accelerated and took to the air. He could only hope they could pull off the fake birthday party and Swanson would never know it wasn’t real. That, at least, would give Cole time to get Angel and the girls out of Chicago and give Alex enough time to get back.
Marvin Standish was the first stop. Hopefully, he’d get some of the answers he needed.
*****
Alex was exhausted and it showed on his face. He hadn’t slept much in the past two days, and he struggled to re-tie his tie and smooth down his hair. There was a good amount of stubble on his chin but there was nothing to be done about it. It was early afternoon on Friday, the day of Jillian’s party. He’d spoken to Cole only briefly, but knew he and the women were driving south and were now on the other side of St. Louis.
Alex hadn’t spoken to Angel because Cole said she was asleep in the backseat with Jillian. He felt a little more at ease now that they were out of Chicago with some distance separating Angel and Mark Swanson. They’d been on the road for about six hours now, and they would travel more at night, and sleep during the day.
Cole’s plan was to find a hotel on the outskirts of one of the suburbs where they were large enough to get lost in but still inexpensive enough to pay cash without too much notice. Alex and Cole thought a suite was best. The one bedroom and a sofa bed in an attached sitting room allowed Cole to stay in the main room with Angel and the others at all times. Cole positioned himself on the sofa bed by the door, which was the only way in, or out, of the room. That was the smartest and safest decision.
Alex passed his hand wearily over his jaw, then used his index finger and thumb to rub both eyes at the same time. They felt gritty, as if they were full of sand. Alex was sure they were red and irritated. He probably looked like he was just coming down from a drug binge, he thought. He didn’t care about his image; however, the man he was seeing would be at the top of his game, so it would behoove Alex to be as professional as possible. Alex himself was used to being the one at the top of the corporate food chain, but this was not his usual playing field. Here, he didn’t hold all the cards; of which, he was painfully aware. It was unsettling when the stakes were this high.
Alex shrugged into his black Hugo Boss jacket, smoothing down the collar and tugging the cuffs of his sleeves down so the linen, now less than crisp after the fifteen hour trip, just showed beyond the fine, expensive wool. The white gold cufflinks that peeked out, engraved with two entwined As, now had a double meaning. He was conscious that his clothes, at least, were polished perfection, his expensive black dress shoes shone like the lacquered baby grand in his study, and his nails were trimmed—manicured to perfection. He pushed on his sunglasses, hoping to hide the effects of his sleepless nights. He’d present confidence, even if a little less fresh than was his norm, and his gut was a mire of fucking knots.
As the limo stopped in front of the high-rise just a few blocks from Avery Enterprises, Alex pulled a small comb from his breast pocket and ran it quickly through his hair. When he walked into the lobby, heads turned. Alex was a formidable presence, and he was well known in the Chicago world of business. It was unlikely he’d go anywhere, in Chicago especially, that someone wouldn’t recognize him from the local news or some article in Forbes or Business Weekly. He walked to the reception desk that sat in the center of the lobby, just before the elevators.
“May I help you, sir?” A middle-aged woman with short, mousy brown hair looked up from her work and met his eyes. She smiled pleasantly.
“Yes, thank you. I’m Alexander Avery. I’d like to see Marvin Standish, please.”
“Of Avery Enterprises?” she asked. “Is Mr. Standish expecting you?”
Alex shook his head. “Yes, and not exactly, Miss…” he waited for her to tell him her name.
“Mrs. Towner.”
“Well, Mrs. Towner, I’ve been traveling, and my secretary had arranged a meeting for Monday, but I’m afraid the matter is somewhat urgent and can’t wait that long. I was hoping he might have a few minutes now.”
“I don’t make his schedule, sir, but I will contact his office to inquire. One moment.”
The woman was extremely professional,
Alex mused,
given that she worked for the mob.
Alex doubted most of the people employed at Standish Ventures were aware of his illegal activities. Alex didn’t want to know at this point, but Standish had information he needed, and surely, given the outward appearance, not all of his businesses were shady. Maybe there was a modicum of decency lurking somewhere beneath the man’s murderous surface and he would be willing to help Alex locate Mark Swanson.
The lobby gleamed with slate grey marble on the floors and halfway up the walls. It had been polished to a high sheen and was adorned with a lot of silver-colored sconces and other fixtures. The elevator shafts were shining metal and glass; the doors covered in glimmering mirrors. The large windows that made up the entire outside wall were tinted blue-grey, dark enough to keep the sun out, but still, the street filled with people walking and heavy traffic were clearly visible. It was elegant and impressive. Obviously, if all of his businesses were shady, the IRS and the Chicago police department would be so far up Standish’s ass, his eyes would be pushed out of his skull. There was no way he could maintain a building like this, in the middle of Chicago’s financial district, if all his income was hidden. It sure as hell made for a good front to keep them off the scent of his more nefarious dealings. Alex couldn’t help but acknowledge the man’s aptitude.
But, Alex didn’t like shady. He didn’t like money exchanged under the table, and he didn’t like sleazy bastards getting ahead with deception, theft, and murder. His thinking nagged at him while he waited for the receptionist’s call to end. He pushed his thoughts down and told himself if this shit were going to wring millions from him, he’d rather ‘invest’ in Standish’s help than Mark Swanson’s treachery.
Mrs. Towner hung up the phone and spoke to Alex in a calm, even tone. “Mr. Avery, you may go up. Mr. Standish has a few minutes before his next meeting. His office suite is on the 23
rd
floor.” She handed Alex a plastic key card. “Give this to the elevator attendant, and he will take you up.”
Accepting it, he wondered how to many unfortunate bastards, this was a one-way elevator ride. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”
Alex waited as the floors passed. The ride up was fairly swift, and after the last of the others alighted on the nineteenth floor, it went straight up without further stops. The attendant handed the key card back to Alex. “Here you are, sir. Please give this to the gentleman just to your left.”
It must have been some security measure, and it appeared the elevator attendant was not allowed outside its confines.
When the doors opened, Alex saw the wall was floor to ceiling dark wood. It had an unusual grain to it. The carpet on the floor was plush, and Alex’s shoes sank a good two inches as he proceeded out and turned to find the man who would take the key. It didn’t take him long. A huge, dark-skinned man, impeccably dressed, was standing, waiting for Alex. His hand was outstretched, and Alex put the key into it.
“Hello, I’m Alexander Avery. I’m here to see Mr. Standish.”
The hall outside the elevators was short, and a set of ceiling-high wooden doors was at one end and a solid wall on the other, suggesting the office took up the entire floor of the building. The man positioned there didn’t speak, just indicated that Alex should proceed toward the doors. He was more than huge, very tall with wide girth, and had to weigh at least four hundred pounds. Alex wondered what type of firearms he was hiding, but it was certain, he was packing something deadly.
The other men, similarly dressed, and bigger than average, opened the two doors and waited for Alex to enter. Inside, there was a young woman seated at a desk quietly working on a computer. She seemed to keep her head down and not pay attention to his arrival or the others in the room. The set-up was similar to Mrs. Dane’s space outside his office with another set of doors, which Alex could only assume would lead inside Marvin Standish’s private office.