Charade (19 page)

“You need to be careful now,” she warned softly. “I can see why you’re angry, but I can explain. I really
did
think Dad’s business was legitimate. I only found out this week that I’ve been blind about that. But I had enough information, from the past, and from talking to him on Sunday, to sound convincing today in the conference room. And you were there, right?
In the shadows?
Oh, Jeff.”
She took a deep breath, then dared to admit, “If you knew the truth—and if you had any idea how much I needed you to come after me this way—you’d take me in your arms right now and never let me go.”

“What are you
doing
to me?” he demanded with a groan. “It’s like you’re a complete stranger, but I still can’t help falling for you.”

“I’m the same me I was in Chicago.
Kissing you.
Calling you Summit.
Making love with you.”
She sandwiched his face between her hands. “I don’t work for the NSA. This is a freak, one-time occurrence to help someone from my old high school
who’s
in terrible trouble. They’re only using me because I had an entrée into Kestonia.
Because of Dad.
Don’t you see?”

For the first time, a hint of renewed trust began shining behind his emerald eyes. Resting his hands on her hips, he murmured, “You’re talking about the kidnapped girl?
That’s
what all this is about?”

She nodded in relief. “Yes. And I need your help rescuing her, so I’m so very glad you’re here. Plus, I’ve just missed you so much.” She flashed a hopeful smile. “There’s so much to tell you, Jeff. But first, believe me that I never lied to you. Not about anything except my plans for these two weeks. And I did sort of reconcile with Dad—it might even stick—but it’s not how it seems. I’ll still never forgive him for killing Mom—”

“Jesus!” Jeff pulled his hands away from her and glared. “You’re goddammed unbelievable, you know that? If I hadn’t listened to the goddammed tape I would have fallen for that performance in a minute.”

“The tape?”

“Yeah.”
He pulled the recorder out of his jacket pocket and waved it in her face. “What I don’t get is
why?
Are you a compulsive liar or something? Why now, when it doesn’t even matter—”

“Jeff!”

He stopped dead at her strident tone. “What?”

Sasha stepped closer to him, her mind trying to make sense of what he had said. “Are you telling me there’s something on that tape that
exonerates
my father?”

“Huh?” His face was suddenly the color of ash. “You haven’t listened to it yet?”

“No.” She held out a trembling hand. “Give it to me now, please.”

“S asha, baby.”
Jeff shook his head as though he still didn’t quite believe what he had done. “I thought you already heard it. I never would have—”

“Give it to me!”

“Right.”
He placed the recorder on her outstretched palm, but didn’t let go of it himself. “Before you listen to this, we need to talk. It gets a little rough—”

“I’m fine.” She pulled it away from him, then turned and walked over to the bed. Jeff started to follow, but she waved him away. Then she stripped off her suit until she was down to a lacy slip and underwear, and crawled into the middle of the bed, where she sat cross-legged and tried to take a steadying breath.

Reminding herself that she had already heard the opening lines, she turned up the volume on the recorder and pushed the play button.

Her father’s voice began, soft and sad and filled with love.

“I have protected you from the truth for so long, my darling daughter, the lie has become an old friend.
Almost a member of the family.
By choice and by blood, one might say. I’ve told myself I was doing it for you, but it has hurt you as much as the truth ever could. So I’ve decided to confess.
But not to your face.
I’m making this tape instead, and one day, when you feel strong—when you feel ready—you will listen to it and know the truth. Selfishly, I pray that day never arrives.”

Her father’s gulp was audible.

“For most of your childhood, Antonio Martino and I had an iron grip on Chicago. I’m sure that’s how you remember it. But what you didn’t know was how often challengers would arise. Punks who thought they could muscle their way into my territory. Whenever that happened, we dealt with it swiftly, Antonio and
I
. We jealously guarded our empire, not just for ourselves, but for our children. I had you—the most precious child in the world. Antonio had Carmine, and little Gianna, and above all, his beautiful Vittoria, the light of his life.

“When you had barely left for college, a new challenger arose.
A punk from Los Angeles.
Martino and I decided to deal with him they way we’d always done. We agreed I would handle the hit. This punk had a dance club downtown, and I gave the job to my best guy, Little Jay. Remember him? The plan was to plant a pipe bomb that would explode after hours, when the customers were gone, but when the punk and his two thugs were still in the back room counting the money they had ripped off from us. What we didn’t know—what I couldn’t have known—was that the punk had a girl with him that night.”

Big Frankie’s tone was so guarded—so riddled with guilt—that Sasha braced herself for the worst. But even so, when he spoke his next words—when he said, “That girl was Vittoria Martino”—she gave a sharp, strangled cry of disbelief.

“No. Not Vittoria…Oh, Dad, not Tori. Please?” Sasha pressed the pause button on the machine, then pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to ward off the icy chill of disbelief and foreboding. Beautiful Vittoria Martino—not just pretty or pampered, but truly pure and innocent.
And so beloved.

Especially by her father don Antonio Martino.

Sasha vividly remembered Tori’s funeral. Everyone had been weeping. Gianna had literally been wailing. Even Carmine—the tough guy—had cried like a baby. And
don
Antonio had seemed like a ghost.
Pale and drawn.
Unable to look Sasha in the eye.

Now she knew why.

“Sasha,” Jeff murmured, but she glared and reminded him to stay where he was. Then she started the tape again.

Her father’s voice became a whisper.

“When I heard Vittoria was dead, I was numb with grief.
And with fear.
Because I knew how much Antonio loved her. I knew he would blame me. He was right to do so. No one but Antonio, Little Jay and me knew we planted that bomb. I killed Jay myself with my bare hands. He’s still rotting at the bottom of the lake. But I knew Martino wouldn’t be satisfied with that. I knew exactly what he’d do.

“He’d try to kill you.
My precious, irreplaceable Sasha.
A daughter for a daughter.
It’s what I would have done in his place, and I knew I couldn’t talk him out of it. But I was desperate to save you.
To take you away somewhere.
But nowhere on earth was safe from that man at that moment. I knew that for a fact.

“And your mother knew it, too. She figured it out, and before I knew what was happening, she went to Antonio in secret and offered a proposition. Instead of you, she would sacrifice herself. True, she wasn’t my child, but she was the great love of my life. Losing her would kill me as certainly as if a knife had been thrust into my own chest.”

Oh, no…Mom…no…

“Your mother reminded Martino that he had other children.
Another beautiful daughter.
A strapping son.
But you, you were my only child. It would be too harsh to leave me childless because of a gruesome error in judgment. Antonio agreed with her. Then they came to me. I’ll never forget it when they stood before me—your mother, Antonio and Antonio’s cousin Vincenzo. Before I knew what was happening, they overpowered me.
Tied me to a chair.
Then they told me their plan.”

Her father’s voice grew strident.

“I screamed.
Cursed.
Begged.
Cried like a woman. I tried to tear my arms from their sockets to free myself from the ropes, but it was no use.”

Oh, Dad…
Sasha swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Your mother made me promise never to tell you. She said you would hate yourself forever if you knew. Better you should hate me. Hate her.
But never yourself.
So we would deceive you. We would make it appear as though she had been unfaithful to me. That I caught her making love in our bed with another man and had them both murdered in a jealous rage.

“The whole world believed that story. But the truth was so much uglier—”

His voice broke, and Sasha hugged her knees with her arms again, terrified to hear the rest.

“There was a man on one of my crews who had always looked at your mother with lust in his eyes. It had bothered her, and had enraged me more than once. But he was a good producer otherwise, so I had allowed him to remain after a stern warning.

“Your mother invited that man to our bedroom.”

No, Dad. Oh, please, no.

“I was still tied to the chair, pleading with Antonio for your mother’s life. But he wanted his revenge. It was all that mattered. And because he wanted it done with speed and certainty, he asked his cousin Vincenzo to take care of it personally.”

“No!” Sasha gasped at the sharp stab of pure terror that had gripped her. “Not the Butcher. Oh Mom…”

“Vincenzo went up to that room and busted down the door. He cut them both to ribbons with a machine gun. No one but Antonio, Vincenzo and I ever knew the truth of that awful day. Everyone believed I had done it myself, and no one blamed me for it. She was in bed with another man when it happened, so everyone believed my actions were justified. Everyone that is, but you.”

His tortured voice turned calm at last.

“I promised her I’d never tell you any of this, darling Sasha. But you deserve to know the truth about me, and more important, the truth about her. That she loved you so much she traded her own precious life for yours.

“I’ve tried to find the right time to tell you in person, but you wouldn’t meet with me.
Wouldn’t speak to me on the phone.
And I’m enough of a coward to admit I couldn’t imagine saying these things to your face. Watching your beautiful eyes fill with tears. You begged me so often at the beginning to tell you the truth about her death. Now you will wish I had lied to you forever. All I can ask is that you forgive me. Forgive her. And understand that what we did, we did out of love for you.”

Oh my God…

Leaving the tape still running but now voiceless where it lay, she crawled away from Jeff, sliding off the other side of the bed. From there she wandered to the corner of the room, where she sank down onto the cold stone floor and huddled, completely disoriented, covering her face with her hands in a useless attempt to blot out the horror of her mother’s death.

“Sasha, baby.”

“Go away.”

Jeff was silent for a moment,
then
he hunched down in front of her and insisted stubbornly, “You have to let me help you.”

“No! Just go back to wherever you came from. Please?” She peeked between her fingers and insisted sadly, “I’m not upset.
Just numb.
Believe
me,
I don’t need anything from anyone. I just need to be left alone.”

“Come on, Sasha. I’m sorry I shot my mouth off the way I did—”

“Basta!”
she ordered him, holding up her hand in imperious warning. But when a flash of hurt crossed his face she softened enough to explain, “
Basta
doesn’t mean bastard. It means enough.”

He grimaced.
“What a day, huh?
Let’s talk about it. About your mom, I mean.”

“I need to get past all that.
At least for the moment.
I need to concentrate on getting Teal out of this awful place. There’s so much to do.” She eyed him hopefully. “You said you came here to help. That’s good, because I need you to be Summit for me one last time.”

Jeff struggled to keep his reactions in check as he watched Sasha pace the room. She was describing in minute detail what she thought she needed from him, but he knew better. She needed him to hold her. Caress her. Comfort and make love to her.

But there was no hope of that, so he listened in silence as she outlined their mission. They were going to rescue some kid named Teal who supposedly had been genetically enhanced. Sasha had done a tremendous amount of legwork already, gathering
intel
and setting up connections they could exploit during the next twenty-four hours.

“The only real variable at this point is Teal’s condition. If she’s been able to counteract the sedatives, she could be extremely valuable, given her abilities. But if she’s still drugged when we make our move—”

“Then I’ll carry her. No problem,” he promised.

For the first time, Sasha actually smiled at him. “I didn’t even think of that. Thanks.
So?
Are we clear on the plan?”

“Sure. It’s a good one, Camper. A little complicated, though. Now that you’ve got help, there’s no need to go to Zelasko’s room with him—”

“We need the key card. And I want to search his room for proof that he engineered the kidnapping from the start.”

Jeff licked his lips. “You said yourself that you only needed the key card for the eggs. And I agree with your original assessment on that. It’s an unnecessary risk. We should just head straight from here to the border.”

“Teal won’t agree to that. She’s terrified Zelasko will use them to father some sort of mutant superchildren. Even if we
could
talk her into leaving them behind, it would haunt her for the rest of her life, Jeff. I can’t put that sweet kid through that kind of senseless, terrifying nightmare—” Sasha choked back a sob, and Jeff imagined she was remembering her own misery, these last eight years, knowing that her mother had been gunned down by thugs.

Before he could offer comfort, she rallied and insisted angrily, “I’m going after the eggs. Either you come with me, or you can take Teal to the border and I’ll catch up to you.”