Deadly Deception (17 page)

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Authors: Alexa Grace

BOOK: Deadly Deception
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"That sounds wonderful."  A powerful relief filled her.

 

The second his office door closed, Frankie slapped a listening device to a chrome desk leg, then leapt to her feet, and moved to his side of the desk, bending down to the PC hard drive on the floor.  She took the lipstick case she was holding in her hand and removed the top to reveal a flash drive that she inserted into the USB port.  She started counting the seconds until the computer monitoring software loaded onto Dr. Caine's computer. One second, two seconds... The software would enable her to receive data from his computer like recorded keystrokes, email, and chat correspondence as well as the websites he visited on her laptop.  She was up to twenty seconds when the program ended with a beep.  She heard a sound at the door and looked up to see the doctor entering the room with two bottles of water. 

 

She ripped the flash drive out of his hard-drive and shoved it into the rest of the lipstick case and tossed it on the floor.  She threw herself on her hands and knees and patted the carpet as if looking for something.

 

"What are you doing?"  He stared at her suspiciously as she continued to pat the carpet in the area behind his desk.

 

"I was going to re-apply my lipstick and I dropped it. I think it rolled back here. Do you see it?"

 

"Here it is."  He bent to pick up the gold lipstick case then handed it to her.

 

"Thanks.  I can be so clumsy."  She moved back to her chair, tossed it into her purse, and accepted the cold bottle of water he handed her across his desk. 

 

"I believe we were discussing volunteer opportunities.  I have a scholarship program for underprivileged young people.  We are planning an upcoming telethon and we need volunteers to answer phones.  Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?" 

 

"That's exactly what I'd like to do.  How do I get started?"

 

 

 

Jennifer Brennan was layering slices of bread with mayonnaise then covering each with ham when her new roommate, Ally Black, entered the apartment.  Ally was maybe five foot three inches and was so pregnant she waddled like a duck.  With long dark hair that framed a delicate heart-shaped face, she looked much younger than Jennifer had imagined. Ally looked like she should be giggling with her teenaged-girlfriends rather than planning the birth of a baby.

 

"Hi, you must be Ally.  I'm Jennifer and I hope you're hungry because I made sandwiches and have some soup on the stove."

 

"Sounds great.  Sorry I wasn't around when you got here to help you move in."

 

"No worries.  You shouldn't be carrying boxes up those stairs anyway.  Come sit down."

 

Ally perched on a bar stool, watched Jennifer pour cream of tomato soup into two bowls, and set one in front of her along with a ham sandwich.  "So how far along are you?  You're barely showing."

 

"Almost five months.  How about you? 
You're
definitely showing."

 

"I'm eight and a half months along thanks to the son-of-a-bitch who got me pregnant."  Ally spoke in a low voice, taut with anger.

 

"You sound angry."

 

"Wouldn't you be if you woke up in the middle of the night and found your new foster mom's son on top of you?"

 

Jennifer took a quick sharp breath.  "He raped you?"

 

"Not according to my foster mom, who blamed me before throwing me out."

 

"I'm so sorry.  What happened then?"

 

"I was only sixteen so I was put into another foster home.  When it was discovered I was pregnant, they contacted Forever Home Adoptions and here I am."

 

"So you agreed to give your baby up for adoption?"   She was still a kid herself and Jennifer’s heart ached for her. 

 

"What choice did I have?  I'm seventeen and haven't finished high school.  My mother died, and she didn't even know who my dad was, which put me in the foster care system.  I got bounced from one foster home to another.  What kind of home could I provide for a kid?"

 

 

 

Lane spooned a rich dollop of macaroni and cheese onto Frankie's plate along with some steamed broccoli.  He filled his own plate then carried both to the table.

 

Setting Frankie's plate in front of her, he said, "I don't want to hear a word about counting calories.  You've got to try my Mom's recipe for mac and cheese."

 

She scooped some of the cheesy casserole on her fork and tasted it. "Oh my God, your mom is a genius.  This is incredible."  She looked at the gorgeous man who sat across from her and smiled.  How could a man that hot be so good in the kitchen?  Okay, he was good in another room of the house too, but she tried not to think about that.

 

After they finished dinner, Lane stood, stretched, and then looked down at her.  "When it gets dark, let's do some surveillance of Eric Caine's house.  Are you game?"

 

"Bring it."

 

 

 

Close to midnight, Lane parked the SUV at a vacant house he'd located near Dr. Frank's residence.  It was a good mile away, but he didn't want to chance parking in the woods across from the house because he was sure he got made last time and nearly got a bullet in his head as a souvenir.

 

A full moon made visibility excellent and since it was a weeknight, the area was very quiet as they walked alongside the road.  Frankie, wearing dark-green, lightweight sweats, had her backpack perched on her back and her hair tucked inside a dark baseball cap.  Lane, dressed in black sweats, had his binoculars hanging around his neck, his revolver in its holster at his hip, and a black baseball cap on his head.  He swatted at mosquitoes as they walked.

 

They soon entered the wooded area alongside Caine’s property, crept around the trees and waded through the thick undergrowth.  They picked a spot that gave them a view of the front of the house as well as the side then crouched down.  Mosquitoes flew in dark clouds around them so Lane pulled a small can of bug repellent out of his pocket and sprayed Frankie then himself.  They sat together under a huge oak tree and watched the house which bore no lights inside.  Only the outside lights were on.

 

Around one o'clock, Lane heard vehicles approaching, tapped Frankie and they both got into prone positions.  The white security gate hummed as it opened, and the doctor's red Ferrari Enzo pulled into the driveway then the garage.  Close behind was the black Lincoln Town Car Lane had seen before.

 

He was eager to get a better look at the hired gun.  Lane watched as a tall man with dark, blonde hair nearly reaching his shoulders got out of the Town Car.  He carried a six-pack of beer and waited on the front porch until Dr. Caine opened the front door.  The two men went inside and lights in a front room came on.

 

Frankie slowly got to her feet and started walking in the opposite direction.  Lane whispered, "Where are you going?" 

 

"I'll be right back," she said as she headed deeper into the woods.

 

Nature must be calling; Lane thought.  He pulled out his binoculars.  The blinds were open in the windows of the front room and Lane could see the two men drinking beer and having a conversation.  Thirty minutes went by without Frankie's return and Lane was getting a little antsy.  She was a trained professional and could take care of herself — so why he was feeling protective?

 

In the distance, he noticed movement near the Town Car.  He aimed his binoculars in that direction and saw Frankie nearing the car, removing what looked like a small digital camera from her pocket.  At the same time, the front door opened.  Crap.  The driver of the Town Car emerged from the house and walked toward the car.  Frankie was now crouched at the back of the car taking a picture of the license tag.  Did she know the driver was heading straight for her?

 

Lane slipped his revolver out of his holster and aimed toward the driver, not even sure he could even make the shot to help her, if needed, at this distance.  As the driver rounded the front of the car, Frankie, still in the crouched position, slid around to the passenger side staying beneath the car window level.  When the driver slammed his car door, she dropped and rolled over some ornamental bushes lining the driveway then lay still, flattening herself to the ground.  The Town Car's motor roared to life and the driver quickly backed down the driveway.  His heart racing, Lane watched as the security gate opened and the Town Car raced down the road toward town.

 

Angry, he slammed his revolver back into his holster and gritted his teeth as he waited for Frankie to return.

 

Minutes later, she arrived, her face split into a wide grin.  She patted Lane on the back, and then said, "I got it.  I got his license tag. We can look it up and find out who he is."

 

Lane was so furious he could hardly whisper.  "Are you freaking serious, Frankie?  You nearly gave me a heart attack.  What the hell were you thinking just taking off like that?  What part of being a partner don’t you understand?"

 

"What?  Why are you so mad?  What did I do?  I got his license tag.  We needed it to ID him."

 

"I'm your partner, Frankie.  And if you want the specifics,
I'm
the lead on this operation.  You don't take an action like that without telling me.  I shouldn't have to guess what the hell you're doing.  You're not the fucking Lone Ranger."  His accusing voice stabbed the air. He got to his feet and moved through the foliage toward the road as she trailed several feet behind.

 

"Screw you, Lane Hansen," she hissed.

 

"Give me the date and time and I'll check my calendar," he called over his shoulder.

 

 

 

Frankie marched on, silently called him every name in the book including ungrateful asshole.  Then she realized he was right.  They were only as strong as their partnership.  He did need to know what she planned as she needed to know his strategies, so they could support and protect each other.  Damn.  She had been on her own too long.  She ran her private investigation company as she pleased and the majority of her jobs she did alone.

 

By the time she got to the SUV, he was inside and had started the car.  She barely had time to get in when he drove off.  She glanced at his profile.  His jaw was clenched and his eyes blazed.  There was no mistake he was still angry and she didn't blame him.

 

"Lane, I'm sorry," she whispered.

 

"What?  I couldn't hear you?"

 

"I said I'm sorry I played Lone Ranger."  Apologizing was not her strong suit and hot tears filled her eyes.

 

He pulled off the road, his voice cold as he said, "Don't do it again, Frankie."

 

She stared out the window and knew if she did the Lone Ranger thing again, he'd ask for her removal from the case.  It was then she decided not to tell Lane she'd installed the computer monitoring device on Frank's office computer. 

 

 

 

Jennifer and Ally were settled in front of the television watching an episode of "GCB" when Jennifer's cell phone rang.  She looked at the display.  It was her dad.  Crap.  She moved to the back patio to take the call in private.

 

"Hi, Dad.  How are you?"

 

"I'm fine, but I'm missing my girl." 

 

Her heart sank.  She missed her dad and mom so much it hurt.  "I miss you too, Dad. But I've been so busy with my classes that I've barely had time to breathe."

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