Black Jack (29 page)

family and her life here, wouldn’t there have also been a sense of relief at having to no longer

live by the rigid guidelines her mother had set for the family?

Wouldn’t she had loved the adventure, the easing of the restlessness that had always filled

her?

“There you are.” Her mother stepped into the kitchen, moving for the teapot at the side of

the stove. “Would you like more tea, dear?”

Lilly lifted her cup. “It’s coffee, Mother.”

Angelica grimaced in distaste. “You were raised on tea, dear.”

“I enjoy the coffee.” Lilly sipped at the warm drink before setting the cup back on the table

and crossing her arms on the table top as she watched her mother.

“Your manners have seriously deteriorated.” Angelica nodded to Lilly’s arms crossed on

the top of the table.

“I know, Mother,” Lilly agreed as she left her arms in place. There was no polite company

present, so there was no need to worry about it.

“Do you now make gross noises in public as well?” Distaste marred Angelica’s face.

“Not hardly, Mother.”

Silence fell as Angelica made her tea and moved to the table.

“Desmond and I are heading to D.C. for an early dinner with friends; would you like to join

us?”

Lilly shook her head. “I might lie down for a while. I woke this morning with a headache.”

She might take the opportunity to snoop around Desmond’s office a bit. She hadn’t had a

chance before now. It seemed either Desmond or her mother was constantly around her if she

left her bedroom.

Her mother finished her tea, an uncomfortable silence falling between them.

“Lilly, you need to make a choice.” Her mother set her empty tea cup to its saucer and

stared back at her coolly.

“What sort of choice, Mother?” she asked as she leaned back in her chair, laying her hands

politely in her lap.

“Whether you’re Lady Victoria, or the hoodlum Lilly Belle.” Angelica rose to her feet, her

eyes glittering damply though her expression was willfully set. “Both cannot coexist. You

must be one or the other. Decide quickly which it will be.”

“Or what, Mother?”

“Or I’ll have to make the decision for you.”

With that, Angelica moved from the kitchen, her head held high, her shoulders straight.

Lilly sighed. It seemed her mother was perhaps a bit more irritated with the situation than

Lilly had assumed.

Covering her face with her hands, she inhaled slowly and fought to bring her own emotions

under control.

Once, she had fought daily to please her mother and to still live the life she had wanted to

live. That had worked, to a point, until she had turned eighteen and her mother had introduced

Lilly to the man she had expected her daughter to marry.

Hell, Lilly could barely remember him. She certainly couldn’t remember his name. Lilly

had taken one look at him and escaped the room on a pretense that her father was expecting

her in his study.

She had, as far as her mother had accused her, shown her contempt for her mother that day.

Lilly had, in her own estimation, showed her mother that she wasn’t a child who needed her

friends, or in this case her husband, chosen for her.

Living with her mother had not been easy, but Lilly had loved her. Just as she had loved her

brother. She had adored her father. And through the six years she had been away from them,

she had missed them to the point that at times, it had felt as though the pain would kill her.

Her eyes widened.

That was a memory.

She remembered that now.

She had ached to go home, to play with her niece and nephew, to watch them grow up, to

protect them from her mother’s neurosis and to even argue with her mother when she had to.

She hadn’t missed the threats of being committed to the Ridgemore Clinic, though.

She almost smiled. Well, maybe she had missed the threats.

As she heard Desmond and her mother leave the house, Lilly rose from her seat and walked

to the foyer to see Isaac trailing out the door behind them.

The house was eerily silent now. With her family gone, the servants were prone to

congregate in the basement servants’ quarters and relax.

That left Desmond’s office deserted.

And locked.

Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the small, seemingly innocuous leather case in the

items she had grabbed from her storage shed.

Making her way upstairs, she quickly extricated it from the luggage she had hidden it in.

Her lock-picking set.

And she remembered how to use it.

Getting into the office was simple. The electronic keypad security was bypassed and the

key lock simple to get through once Lilly began working. Within minutes, rather than the

seconds it used to take her, she was sliding into the office.

Once there, she looked around, wondering at first where the hell to start.

Instinct was an incredible thing, though.

She moved to the computer, powered it on, and as she stared at the request for the passcode,

that memory as well slowly emerged.

Once she was in, she was able to begin the download of the hard drive and the online vault

into an account she had set up that morning herself.

As the information uploaded, Lilly turned her attention to the files in the room. The file

cabinet contained mostly financial information that she was certain would be easy enough to

find in the electronic files she was downloading. It appeared to be printouts of specific

information used for business purposes.

Desmond, as her father had before him, did quite a bit of business while taking the yearly

trip to the States.

There were other files scattered around the room, though. Going through them, Lilly found

something she hadn’t anticipated finding. Tucked into a long, slender yellow envelope were

pictures of her.

Those weren’t investigator’s reports.

She stared at one, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember.

Her hair was several shades darker, but her features were clearly the ones she was growing

accustomed to now. She was dressed in a long, silken evening gown, her hair pulled to the

crown of her head to cascade to her shoulders. It was a party of sorts, the older male she was

standing with recognizable.

The leader of a Colombian drug cartel, Diego Fuentes. His hand rode low at her back, his

smile clearly flirtatious as she laughed at something he said.

Her eyes narrowed as the ache in her head became stronger.

He wasn’t just a cartel leader.

A double agent.

Diego Fuentes was a CIA asset into the drug world as well as the terrorist influences

invading it.

She had been on a mission.

There were other such pictures, but the one most telling was taken in the area where she

had been shot. The picture had been taken in the winter. There was actually snow on the

ground. Lilly was standing outside a warehouse talking on a phone. In the background she

could make out a small sign that proclaimed the building holding the offices of Secure Escorts

Etc.

This picture was taken before she was shot. Someone had been watching her, tracking her

jobs, tracking her, until she had nearly been killed.

She slid the pictures inside the envelope, folded it, then shoved it into the waistband of her

slacks at her back.

What was her uncle involved in?

She moved quickly to the computer, checked the progress of the files downloading to find

they had finished, and quickly covered her tracks and shut down the computer.

As she was moving around the desk to make her way from the room, the slight beep of the

security pad outside had her racing for cover.

It was daylight; hiding behind the curtains wouldn’t be wise. Just before the door opened,

Lilly slid behind the ornate couch along one wall, flattening herself against the wall as she lay

on her side and watched as the door opened.

Her mother entered the office and moved to the file cabinet.

“I can’t believe he forgot the files,” she muttered as another set of legs followed behind her.

“Do you need any help, Lady Harrington?” one of the security personnel that Lilly

remembered her father employing when she was sixteen asked softly.

“I have it, Samuel,” she sighed. “He should know how important this is. Simply because he

doesn’t agree with them, he thinks we should just toss it away. There are days I simply don’t

understand that man.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Samuel answered noncommittally.

Lilly’s brow arched at the irritation in her mother’s voice as well as the fact that she was

bitching so vociferously to what she would consider a servant.

“Something simply must be done about him.” Angelica’s voice sharpened, “It’s as bad as

trying to deal with Victoria and her insistence on being called Lilly. Have you ever heard such

nonsense?”

“No, ma’am,” Samuel answered.

Angelica sighed heavily again. “Shall we leave then? I imagine this is something else we’ll

have to deal with ourselves.”

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am,” Samuel promised.

Lilly’s eyes narrowed as her mother and the bodyguard left the room, locking the door

behind them.

Sliding from behind the couch, she dusted herself off, then stared at the door and shook her

head in astonishment. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to her mother when she

was younger. Spent more time with her or something. Never had Lilly known her to speak so

familiarly with help. Not that she disapproved of it, she just knew her mother did disapprove

of it. Highly.

The changes six years had wrought blew her mind.

two days later Lilly
moved through the house, her

hands jammed in the pockets of the violet silk slacks she wore, a heavy frown on her face as

her hand gripped the silent cell phone in her pocket.

She hadn’t heard from Travis since the morning he had left to take the metal and fluid

samples he had found to Nik. She’d gone to the house, only to find it silent and empty. Even

Henry the butler hadn’t been in residence.

There had been no voice mail, no letter, no text, no message sent via anyone to let her know

where he was or what was going on.

“Lilly, there you are.” Her mother stepped from the sitting room, looking concerned. “I was

wondering if you might like to go shopping?”

“Not today, Mother.” Lilly gave her a soft smile, hoping to soften the rejection, although

she could see the edge of hurt and anger in her mother’s expression.

“You’re ghosting about this place like a restless spirit,” her mother accused, propping her

hands on her hips and facing her with a frown. “Really, Lilly, perhaps you should see that

psychiatrist the doctor recommded.”

Lilly rolled her eyes at the suggestion.

“I don’t need a psychiatrist, Mother,” she assured her. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Angelica crossed her arms over the tan and cream print blouse she wore and tapped her

sandaled foot as she stared back at her daughter. The light, honey-brown above-the-knee-

length skirt was a perfect complement to her mother’s legs just as the cream-colored pumps

were.

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you slept at night rather than sneaking out at all hours,” she

retorted. “Really, Lilly, you can use the front door, you know. You are over twenty-one and

hadn’t had a curfew for several years before you disappeared. I doubt I’d try to enforce one

now.”

“How do you know I’ve been slipping out of my room at night, Mother?” she asked.

Lilly had a very well-developed intuition and she knew she hadn’t felt prying eyes

watching her. She had been aware of the investigator her uncle used to spy on her. He

normally watched her balcony window. As though that were the only place she could sneak

from the house.

“Does it matter how I know?” Angelica advanced further into the foyer. “I’m simply

curious to know why you feel you must. What are you doing, Lilly, that you feel you have to

hide it?”

“Perhaps I’ve just needed to get out,” Lilly said. “I don’t sleep well.”

“And the doctor gave you something for that.” Angelica frowned in concern. “You’re out

with that Caine person, aren’t you? Do you think I hadn’t noticed he hasn’t been slipping into

your bedroom lately?”

That Caine person, as though he didn’t matter enough to actually have a first name.

“Does it really matter what I’m doing?” Lilly finally sighed. “As you said, Mother, I’m a

big girl now, I don’t have curfews and I know how to make my own friends.”

“I used to think you knew how,” Angelica said sadly. “I’m not so certain anymore, Lilly. I

don’t think I even know who you are anymore.”

That makes two of us, Lilly thought.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Mother.”

“I do have a suggestion, dear,” her mother said. “Dr. Ridgemore has suggested that perhaps

you need to rest more. You know he has a fine facility in southern France. It’s the perfect

place to relax. You’d be well taken care of.”

Lilly stared back at her in incredulity. “Ridgemore’s facility is a joke,” she burst out.

“Surely you’re not serious, Mother!”

Angelica’s face tightened. “You’re not acting well, Lilly, and your uncle and I are

extremely worried. Even Jared agrees that might be the best choice. And Ridgemore is not a