Stealth Moves (32 page)

Read Stealth Moves Online

Authors: Sanna Hines

Tags: #FICTION / Thrillers

Liv made her decision. “Not today.” She pulled on his arms, but he was too heavy; she couldn’t budge him. Leaning over his head, she reached for a backpack strap. If she tugged the pack loose up, he could use his own muscles to make it onto the balcony.

He said sharply, “Don’t! You’ll fall.”

“Hang on. Just hang on.”

Liv picked up her jacket from the balcony floor and pressed the buttons for lights. She turned on all her costume lights—headpiece, blouse, pants—till she was so bright people on Beacon would have to see her. “Help!” she shouted. “Help! Call the police!” She looked at the sidewalk and felt sick, seeing pedestrians hold up their phones to take pictures.

Waving her jacket in a big arc above her head, Liv yelled “Fire!” because she’d heard people reacted more to fire more than cries for help. Someone had to see her;
someone
had to help, but no one was doing anything.

Desperate, Liv flung her jacket out over the street. It sparkled against the night sky like fireworks. As it fluttered down to Beacon, she heard squealing brakes. An old, beat car swerved sideways across lanes, stopping traffic in both directions. Liv grinned. The cops would come now.

She heard voices and turned toward the sounds. A man and a woman dropped down from Chase’s roof, rolled, ran to the next roof and did the same thing again. Whoever they were, they looked like cats—black cats—because of the dark clothes they wore. Liv called, “Help! We’re here!” and saw them clearly when they stood on the roof above the balcony.

Liv gaped at Ari’s Aunt Zarah. Next to her was a young man, probably Holly’s age, who looked fit, strong.

“Are you all right, child?” Zarah asked.

“Yes, but he’s not.” She pointed to Stealth. “Help him,
please
.”

The man hopped down to the balcony, stepped past Liv, and gripped Stealth’s arms. His muscles strained, but he had no luck shifting all that weight. Discovering the backpack problem, he yanked it loose from where it was stuck. Stealth lifted himself over the railing and onto the balcony. His gaze shifted from his rescuer to Ari’s aunt. “Who are you?”

“I am Zarah. That is Noam, my associate. Make a threatening move, and he will paralyze you. If you have killed Ariel, it will be permanent.”

“Ari’s all right,” Liv said. “She’s with Holly a couple houses away.”

Zarah looked in the direction Liv pointed. “And the kidnapped boy?”

“Kyle’s okay, too. I think everyone’s okay except that cop. Someone knocked him out.” Liv made a face. “He’s a bad cop.”

“Officer Vogel.”

“Yes!” Liv breathed. “How did you know? And how did you know we were here?”

Zarah tapped her own breastbone. “The pendant of your necklace has a tracker. When I saw you were at that place—the house of a person I suspected all along—I knew there was trouble. The policeman…pfft! He is not an honest man.”

Her face turned stern when she addressed Stealth. “Do you hear the sirens? Officers will be here within minutes. You must make a choice: Go with them to be handled, shackled, questioned until all your secrets are exposed. Over many months of trial, you will tear out the hearts of your victim’s family. In the end, you will go to prison, never to be free.”

“Free…” he muttered. “Don’t deserve free.”

“You are right, but others deserve to be freed of you. Choose the second option: Go with the government men in the black SUV waiting now behind your house. They will say you are dead, but you will not die. They will own you—never let you go—keep you for your work. Noam can escort you to them.” She nodded toward the man in black, who climbed to the roof next door, where he stood with crossed arms.

“But that’s wrong!” Liv objected.

Zarah shrugged. “Americans brought Nazi scientists here after World War II. All countries value weapons-makers.” She turned her head toward Chase’s house. Liv saw people gathered on the roof.

“Not police,” Zarah said. “Hansens and their guests. We came through their home, told them to wait, but it seems they are too curious.” She turned to Stealth. “Choose! Choose now.”

Stealth lowered his head. When he looked up, he spoke with Brandon’s higher voice. “I’m sorry we couldn’t help you, Olivia. Sorry you’re unhappy at home.”

“But I’m not. I
love
my family, my friends,” she said slowly. “I’m even starting to like Boston.” And she stood frowning in awe of her own words, wondering why she’d never realized those things before.

Liv looked into his eyes, and this time, she saw a boy—a boy who wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Brandon cleared his throat. “So, uh, so don’t forget me, okay?”

“I won’t.” She knew that was true, too. “It’s too bad about, you know, that car years ago, about what happened to you.”

“Can I call you sometime?”

Liv shook her head. “Do what Zarah says. Go. Go quickly.”

He turned, looked back over his shoulder, smiled, and then climbed up to his future.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Day 22—Saturday night

Holly sipped champagne with Mike on his balcony. Below them on the Smallwood terrace, Liv’s Halloween birthday party was in full swing. Decorations were tasteful and professional; refreshments, catered. Costumes ranged from makeshift (the boys) to elaborate (the girls). Holly spotted Ariel, a purple witch, Maddy, a Steampunk explorer, and Tay, poured into a black cat suit. Chase, feebly garbed as a nylon pirate, couldn’t take his eyes off Tay, who looked as though she might purr through the entire evening.

“Bit o’ bubbly, live music, fancy dress—you, in that little black number. I think this counts as a date, don’t you?” Mike asked.

“No. I bought the champagne.”

“Liberated gesture.”

“You’re wearing an ordinary sweater and slacks. As for my ‘little black number’, I wear this to the gym!” Holly said of her Tae Kwon Do
dobok
.

“Versatile
and
fetching,” Mike declared. “Well accessorized.” He lifted one flap of her black belt.

Holly smiled. “What have you been up this week? I’ve hardly seen you.”

“Worked a lot. Visited the doctor.” Mike held out his left arm with its bright orange cast cover. “I could put a jack o’ lantern sticker on it to be festive?” When Holly shook her head, he continued. “Did some sparring with the police. Went a few rounds with Karina, who finally tapped out and signed the papers. She was in a big hurry to get the divorce done so she could slide out of town with her mother, who’s headed for rehab. We had the last court hearing, and huzzah! I’m a free man.” Mike leaned back, arms behind his head, grinning.

“Congrats. Did she have anything to say about Dan?”

Mike’s grin broadened. “She dumped him. Blames him for her brother’s ‘death’.”

Only people at the house that night knew Brent didn’t dive from his rooftop. News reports showed the Tinsley terrace with police tape, chalk markings and dark stains. “Dan-the-hero is the lie I can’t swallow,” Holly fumed. “After all the shit he put us through—”

“Especially that toilet,” Mike inserted.

“Most especially that toilet.” Holly wrinkled her nose. “How does he come out the brave cop nobly felled by the evil kidnapper?”

Mike held up his hands. “The story sucks, but it’s the deal I made with him to avoid being nailed for aggravated battery of a police officer. Oh, and the security footage of Liv climbing the house disappeared.”

“You acted in self-defense.”

“Not really. I didn’t have to smash Dan’s jaw.” Mike’s eyes gleamed. “I just wanted to.”

“But now he’ll be back on the streets—a bad cop. It isn’t right.”

“He’s not the first; he won’t be the last.” Mike shrugged. “And he’s minus Karina. I don’t know if that’s punishment or reward. Speaking of rewards, what have you done with yours?”

The money was the week’s biggest surprise. Liv’s call to the tip hotline earned Holly and Mike credit for the safe return of Ariel and Kyle—one million dollars apiece.

“Paid off my school loans and bought some gifts,” Holly said. “It felt
wonderful
. Took Liv on a shopping spree. Booked my mother’s trip to France so she could taste real French food. Cam’s getting the vintage car he’s in lust with. Eric picked out a van he wants for his carpentry tools and band equipment.”

“Tell me it’s not tan.”

“Nope. Gunmetal gray. He says it’s the perfect color for a band called Gl’ock.”

“I like his group’s new sound,” Mike said. “Mixed in some Tripl Thret riffs, I think.”

“They’re a big influence,” Holly confirmed, smiling at her brother, who was singing a throaty lovesong. Dazed fangirls swayed along with his rhythmn. “Liv said her invitations became social gold when word spread through school Eric was performing at her party. Lots of people know him from Uncle Jim’s TV show.”

“I wondered why there was such a crowd. Family room and terrace completely packed. Didn’t think Liv had so many friends.”

“After tonight, I doubt she’ll lack for company.” It wasn’t just Cam’s glazed expression that convinced Holly. She watched a number of the boys eye the girl in the flame gown. “Liv’s so beautiful tonight.”

Jessica worked a marathon to make the fabulous flame gown. Before the party started, she confided to Holly, “Ran Portsmouth clear out of red tulle for the skirt. Glad I had enough leftover silk for the bodice.”

The many-layered skirt was Holly’s favorite part of Liv’s dress. It complemented the simple strapless sheath shimmering red or gold with every move. Gauzy tulle under chiffon fanned out from mid thigh. “No lights this time?” Holly inquired.

“Of course, there are lights!” Jessica said indignantly. “Beacon
must
have lights. They’re in the bodice and hem.” She added, “Such a shame her superhero jacket was damaged.”

Cam retrieved the tattered jacket from the street after he blocked traffic with Holly’s old car. When Jessica saw the remnant, she decided a new outfit would be faster to make than repairs.

Liv’s gown glowed softly now as she danced with Cam. He looked uncomfortable in the sport jacket and tie. “Hey,” Cam explained earlier when Holly questioned his lack of costume, “dressing up is a costume to me.”

Just the opposite of Mike, who wore suits every day, Holly thought. Though she’d complained about his casual clothes, he looked so good in the navy sweater and khakis, she almost gave up on her resolution.

“Look, uh, Mike,” Holly began, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have a real date.”

Mike sat forward, frowning. “Something I said?”

“Something your mother said. She’s asked me to stay on as Liv’s bodyguard—well, more of a chauffeur, actually. Liv’s friends’ parents formed a carpool. Catherine wants me to drive Liv’s shift during the worst of the winter. I’ll take Catherine anywhere she needs to go, as well.”

Disbelief creased Mike’s forehead. “She’s trusting you with the Bentley?”

Holly nodded. “Kind of scares me, but yes, she is. In my free time, I’ll research jobs I want to pursue when this one ends in spring.”

“What’s that got to do with us going out?”

“Well, I’ll be living here. You’ll be living here. It could get awkward, like a downstairs maid and lord-of-the-manor thing.”

“That’s silly. You’d be the most well-heeled maid ever.” He pursed his lips. “I paid off my debts, bailed the Beemer out of hock and still have a bit left. Could move out, I suppose.” Then he shook his head. “Nah. I like it here, and the food’s good.”

“It is,” Holly agreed, “so you see—”

“You in a big hurry to get married?” Mike interrupted.

“No!” Aghast, Holly glowered at him.

“So we agree. We agree on lots of things. We even have the same birthday. Oh, God,” Mike moaned. “If we don’t plan a date for our birthday, my mother will insist we all celebrate at the Algonquin. Liv will be bored stiff. Waiters will bring cakes and sing.” Mike shuddered. “They’ll sing
twice
. My mother will fall asleep on her cake.”

“Oh, now, you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. She’s done it. Please,” Mike begged with clasped hands, “save me from spending my thirtieth birthday dragging my snoring mother out of the club.”

Holly laughed. “When you put it that way….”

“Not very romantic, I know, but the night’s young.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Holly leaned forward, whispering close to Mike’s ear, “All alone…” She turned his cheek with a fingertip toward the elders seated below on the deck. “…except for zillions of people.” Catherine had invited friends to enjoy the music, including Ariel’s mother, aunt and the aunt’s companion, Noam.

Ariel was the only teen on the deck. From the intense attention she was giving Noam, he was all the party she needed.

“Interesting thing happened at my law firm this week,” Mike was saying. “Just gained a big client—tech exec moving his operation to Boston from the West. Said his wife’s psychic advisor told her their kids were in danger. She threatened divorce if he didn’t put distance between the family and the threat.”

“Wow,” Holly said. “They have a lot of faith in psychics.”

“They have a lot of kids. Three will be at Sidley this year. Naturally, the client worried about kidnapping when everything hit the fan last week, but I said it was over, couldn’t happen twice.”

Holly murmured, “Not twice.” Her eye was caught by one of the party guests. “Wonder who the tall dude is. See the one I mean in the Grim Reaper costume? He hasn’t talked with anyone, touched the refreshments or danced.”

“Could be shy.” Mike peered in the Reaper’s direction. The masked figure nodded and lifted his scythe.

Holly stared. “Mike, you don’t think it’s
him
?”

Noam swung over the deck railing and dropped to the terrace, startling a group of girls, who turned like a flock of birds to stare after him as he pushed through the crowd.

Holly shot to her feet. Mike gripped her arm. “Let the Israeli guy handle it.”

“Don’t you want to know for sure?”

“I would,” Mike said, rising, “if I didn’t have this awful feeling you’re going to get us into more trouble.”

“Never stopped you before. Come on.” Holly held out her hand.

Mike took it.

Other books

The Fourth Season by Dorothy Johnston
Maybe in Another Life by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Borderline by Chase, T. A.
The Fundamentals of Play by Caitlin Macy
Grave Situation by Alex MacLean
An Irish Christmas Feast by John B. Keane
In the Moment: Part One by Rachael Orman
The Obsidian Blade by Pete Hautman
No, Not that Jane Austen by Marilyn Grey
The Holiday Hoax by Skylar M. Cates