Triumph (21 page)

She turned to Kelly. “Would you mind if I stepped outside to speak with him?”

“Not at all.”

Natalie walked away. Her footsteps echoed over the marble floor of the grand entrance. Kelly sat still when she heard the front door click. She didn’t care to get up and look around. She didn’t want to seem to be prying if Natalie returned before she could dash back.

The sudden sound of an argument reached her from outside. The landscaper’s voice was so deep Kelly couldn’t make out the words through the closed window. Natalie’s was shrill and hectoring, nothing like the smooth, cultured tone she liked to pour on.

Kelly was forced to listen. After a minute she realized that the two weren’t speaking English. The temptation to get closer to the window and see what Natalie looked like in a rage was too strong to resist. Kelly got up but stayed hidden.

The man who stood facing Natalie had his back to the window, his hands thrust into the pockets of a canvas barn jacket. He was so tall and built so broadly that he concealed her. There was the sharp crack of a slap. Natalie must have hit him because his hands stayed in his pockets. His head barely moved.

He couldn’t be a landscaper. But who he was and why Natalie was so angry at him was a mystery to Kelly.

The argument died down from that point. Kelly took a step, about to go back to her chair when the man turned around. She noted the thick scarf around his neck before she registered his rough-hewn features and sullen expression. The tirade seemed to have had no more effect on him than the slap.

He saw her. His eyes were black as his hair. He looked at her intently for a little too long. Then he walked away from the window and Natalie. She came back in, alone.

She seemed more nervous than ever. Kelly didn’t ask questions, just looked at her once and then away while Natalie composed herself.

“Kelly.” She finally spoke. “I barely slept last night, and I suppose I have a touch of jet lag.”

The flight from Dallas to Atlanta was less than two hours. But if Natalie was making excuses, Kelly didn’t mind.

“Would you mind very much if I gave you the house tour some other time?”

“Not at all.” Kelly had been trying to plot a graceful exit. And she didn’t want to see the rest of the depressing house. “I hope I didn’t wear out my welcome.”

The other woman did look genuinely tired. She managed a smile. “Of course not.”

A few minutes later, when Finley appeared to take the tray, they exchanged good-byes and Kelly saw herself out.

She waited until she was on the main road that would take her back to the highway running through Atlanta and pulled off at a lookout point to call Deke.

She just wanted to talk to him. The afternoon had left her with a bad feeling and a headache.

“I was just about to call you. What’s up?” His voice was low, as if he didn’t want someone else to hear him talking.

“Nothing. I’m heading back. I just got done having tea with Natalie Conrad at her great big gloomy house.”

“Did she say anything about Bach?”

“Not really.”

Deke paused. She heard street noise in the background. A siren wailed, then faded away. “I’m still here,” he said.

“Are you free tonight?” Kelly asked.

“No.”

She was puzzled by the flat reply. Then someone called him by his last name. He had to be working. Why didn’t he just say so?

“Hang on. Let me get to where I can talk.” Moments later, he spoke again. “I’m with Hux. He wanted help following up on leads.” A blare of loud, thumping music drowned out the rest. “Okay. I guess this is not the doorway to have a private conversation. I’ll call you back.”

“You don’t have to. I might as well just head home and sack out in front of the TV.”

“Text me when you get there, Kelly.”

“I will.”

She ended the call, disappointed.

M
onday morning came too soon. Kelly entered WBRX at a dead run, bumping into Coral Reese. “Sorry. Overslept. Not really here yet.”

Coral laughed. “Hey, I got some more info on those shell companies you were asking about. I highlighted everything I understood.”

Kelly looked at her blankly. “Shell what?”

“Never mind. You need coffee,” the junior reporter said. “I’ll bring the folder by later. Brush your hair,” she added in a whisper, moving on.

The newsroom was humming. Kelly glanced at the clock that ruled them all.

Gordon appeared out of nowhere. The burly cameraman stopped, blocking her way. “Morning meeting in half an hour.”

“Do you mind, Gordon?” She tried to get around him. “It’s not like you have to be there.”

“Us camera people are always out in the fresh air and sunshine, reporting the good news,” he said dryly. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Oh yeah? What have you been up to since we were dodging bullets together?”

“Lots of things. I have to go.”

“Come out to the van and see me sometime,” he called after her.

She would be on time for the morning meeting. Monroe would want updates, assignments would get handed out—and she heard him coming down the hall.

“There you are,” he said. “How was the memorial service?”

“It was strange. And Natalie Conrad is a piece of work.”

“Told you.”

“She invited me to tea afterward.”

Monroe’s eyebrows went up. “Lucky you. You made the inner circle.”

Kelly went into her office and slung her tote bag over the back of her chair. “I really don’t need a new best friend, thanks.”

“But she’s rich and influential.”

Kelly shook her head firmly. “I don’t care. She acts like she owns everyone and everything.”

Monroe laughed. “Let me break it to you gently. She actually does. We could do a feature on her, you know.
The Ten Most Powerful Women in Atlanta.
”

“I don’t think she’s lived in that Buckhead house for years. And it’s not really Atlanta, is it?”

“So we bend the truth a little. So what?”

“I’m beginning to think that maybe it matters.” Kelly went to the coffeemaker, grabbing a bottle of water from her desk to fill the reservoir. She dropped a filter packet of coffee into the basket, but it split open.

The day went downhill from there.

 

That night she finally saw Deke. The front desk at the hotel called her before they let him up. The place had decent security. Whether it was good enough to keep her safe remained to be seen. Kelly opened the door to his knock.

He must have given the staff cause for suspicion. His dark hair was scruffy and his strong jaw was shadowed with stubble. The leather jacket was even more creased, as if he’d slept in it somewhere.

“Come on in,” she said. “Stakeout over?”

“It wasn’t really a stakeout.” Deke gave the place an automatic once-over. “I know I look like hell. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to. Can I get you anything? I have cold cuts and bread and mayo. How about a beer?”

He shook his head. “No thanks. Me and Hux hit every dive bar and back alley in Atlanta.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not to drink. To get information.”

Deke settled himself on the couch, stretching out his long legs. As an afterthought, he leaned forward and slid off his jacket.

“Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“That’s why I’m here. Look, Kelly, an informer tipped off Hux to a contract on offer. For a hired killer,” he added, catching her baffled look. “It’s related to the shoot-out.”

“Gang feud? Revenge?”

“We almost wish. The payoff is huge, but no one wants it. The target is too well-known.”

Kelly nodded, but not in encouragement.

“Hux came to me with the rumors and his initial legwork. We followed through. Seems that our usual suspects turned the job down right away. Which means it’s likely to be a new thug on the block.”

“Let me guess. He’s not in your laptop,” she said quietly.

“He might be by now. Tonight we got a slew of pictures on the sly. Looks like there’s a new gang moving in on Atlanta.”

“Nice to know.”

“There may not be an organized effort behind this, Kelly. We could be looking for just one or two people. At first all Hux could find out was that someone in the media was targeted.”

“There are lots of us in Atlanta,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, well, we finally found the one dude who knew a little more about the proposed hit. Not who would do it or who’s behind it, just who was supposed to get killed. You.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Why am I singled out? Other stations picked up the Bach story and the newspapers reported the shootout.”

“You were the only eyewitness to it. That’s my reasoning. Hux agrees.”

Kelly walked away from him into the kitchen. She looked into the refrigerator even though she knew there was hardly anything in it. She settled for a glass of cold water from the outside dispenser, took a sip, and put it down on the counter. Her tense throat made it hard to swallow.

“You know, in my business, you do sort of get used to maniacs.”

“Nothing like this,” he countered.

“I know several reporters who get death threats,” she said. “If you do investigative stories or crime-watch features, that comes with the territory. So far no one’s ever wanted to kill me, though. But I get plenty of interesting stuff. Shut-up-or-die e-mails, poison-pen letters, anonymous slams posted online with altered photos. I’ve seen my head on a stripper’s body.”

“The card and the photos went beyond all of that. And they were delivered to where you live.”

She acknowledged that hard fact with a frown. “Which is why I’m here and not there. The station is another matter. But they do make every effort to protect us.”

“It may not be enough. It may be time for you to drop the story. Or let someone else do the reporting.”

Deke had moved away from the couch by the time she came out of the kitchen. He was close enough to reach out to her. But he didn’t.

“Too late now, don’t you think?”

“Kelly, don’t give these guys more reasons to kill you.”

“If they want to try, they will. I don’t see how me quitting is going to make them give up.”

Deke tried another tack. “If you get a concealed-carry permit, you would at least have a gun. Lieutenant Dwight can speed up the process.”

“You and I both know that won’t guarantee my safety.”

“Just think about it. And go with me to a firing range,” he pleaded. “Get in some practice. If you change your mind, you’re ready.”

“Anything else you think I should do?”

“Besides listen to me? No,” he said.

She gave him a stubborn look, but he didn’t lose his temper. “Can we agree to keep talking about this?”

“Let’s drop it. I’m exhausted anyway,” Kelly said, adding quickly with a flash of guilt, “but so are you. Listen, I appreciate what you and Hux are trying to do.”

Deke grabbed his jacket, but he didn’t put it on. “Is having someone want to take care of you the worst thing that ever happened to you, Kelly? Tell me the truth.”

She just glowered at him. His dark gaze fixed on hers again, but she stood her ground. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” Her voice wavered slightly.

Deke came to her. “No. You don’t.” His arms went around her and she didn’t push him away. Yet she was unwilling to relax. She faced a different kind of danger in his embrace: needing him too much.

His lips brushed the top of her head and his hand began to stroke her hair, parting the silky strands to rub the nape of her neck.

Unfair. He had seized the advantage. A huge advantage. The onrush of physical sensation caused by his gentle caress melted her resistance. Kelly rested her head on his shoulder. “I give up,” she whispered. “Just keep doing that.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he murmured in reply. “But I know damn well you haven’t given up.”

Kelly lifted her face to his, offering her lips to the strong mouth that claimed hers. Deke cupped her head and drew her against him firmly for a kiss that went further than their first or their second. Third time counted for all with this one. His tongue teased hers, then entered, tasting her deeply. The tender but forceful kiss was nearly unbearable. Kelly responded with her whole body, drawing what she needed and craved from the pressure of his.

A minute had passed before he lifted his head. She touched a finger to the lips that had given her so much pleasure. “No more,” she whispered. “I can’t think when you do that to me.”

“That’s the idea,” he growled.

Kelly straightened away from him. She picked up his jacket, which had been tossed aside in the heat of the moment, and handed it to him. If it had been up to her, she would have listened to the voice in her head, sent him packing, and slept in the warm leather that smelled intoxicatingly of man.

“You should go.”

Deke accepted the jacket and slung it on a little awkwardly. He chucked her under the chin. “I liked that,” he said nonchalantly. “To be continued?”

Kelly managed a ghost of a smile. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to go to the firing range tomorrow?”

“Definitely. Even though I’m not that scared. It’s weird. I guess I should be.”

“If someone is closing in on you, Kelly, he’s going to have to deal with me.”

Deke bent his head and lifted her chin with a fingertip. A searching, final kiss sealed a silent deal. They were in this together. The details could come later.

Kelly yielded once more to the mouth that sought hers so urgently.

 

The following afternoon at WBRX, Kelly ignored her phone when it rang, occupied with a hundred things she wanted to get off her desk. The ringing stopped, then started again. With a sigh, Kelly looked at the number without recognizing it and picked up the receiver. She had a feeling that the caller wouldn’t go away otherwise. Distracted, she forgot to say her name, going with a brusque hello instead.

“Kelly! It’s Natalie Conrad. Just a quick question. I know you must be terribly busy.”

“You’re right about that,” Kelly said courteously. “But ask away.”

“Do you remember the young artist I talked to you about? Luc Allen? He does conceptual pieces on death and rebirth.”

Save me
, Kelly thought. Natalie had taken a call from him at the Buckhead mansion. “Right.”

“He’s looking for a space, a very large one, for an installation.” Natalie coughed. Kelly wondered if she was smoking. “My art-world contacts have not been helpful.”

“I’m not sure if I can be.”

“Kelly, I must fly back to Dallas to sign paperwork for the new museum, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Oh.”

“I would love to take care of this as soon as possible. I suppose I could call Monroe. He knows Atlanta.”

Hint hint. Kelly got it. She told herself that she didn’t have to solve the problem, only make suggestions. The largest building she could think of was the old factory she and Deke had visited together. But the second Natalie saw it, she would run for the hills.

“Does the space have to be painted white or fixed up?” Kelly asked.

“No. Luc admires the patina of decay. He wants something gritty with a dash of danger.”

Kelly rolled her eyes, glad that Natalie couldn’t see her do it. “Well, there’s an old factory on the other side of Atlanta,” she said.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that Natalie would set foot inside it. Kelly was sure of that.

“I don’t know who owns it, but I looked inside it once. It’s cavernous—I think it takes up half a city block. There’s a roof and a floor.”

“The other side of Atlanta? Where, specifically?”

She told her. Natalie went quiet. “We would have difficulty getting insurance,” she said. “I understand there have been incidents in the area.”

Kelly was almost surprised that Natalie had heard of them. The billionaire’s widow lived in a bubble.

“That’s true. But I guess people would drive out to see the installation. Honestly, Natalie, it’s not my area of expertise. That’s the only place that comes to mind.”

“Just a moment. I’ll tell Luc,” Natalie answered after a few seconds. Kelly heard a male voice mutter something in the background. It sounded like the young artist was right there with her.

Natalie came back on the line. “He needs to look at it. Thank you so much, Kelly.”

“Glad to help. Bye.” She hung up. Favor done. Natalie and Luc could take it from there.