Kiss Me If You Dare (30 page)

Monique looked at her younger sister. “You stay here.”

I shook my head. “No, she can’t stay by herself. Just in case.”

Monique sighed. “Fine.”

We scrunched three across the bench seat of a smallmodel pickup.

Monique put the truck in gear. “It’s just a few minutes to the plant.”

We curved through the streets and onto Churchill Falls Road. A few minutes later, a forest of metal towers connected by wires appeared on the horizon.

Meagan pointed. “That’s the switchyard. The power goes all over from there. Even to the States.”

“Cool,” I said, not really interested in anything other than getting to my father before his assailant.

Monique turned at a sign. C
HURCHILL
F
ALLS
G
ENERAING
S
TATION,
it said. A digital board told passers-by the current megawatt output. I assumed the numbers were meant to impress.

A few minutes later, we parked near a building that looked like a couple shoe boxes topped with an oatmeal canister. Scattered across the snowy grounds, sharp posts poked skyward.

“Come on,” Monique said, taking charge.

I grabbed my purse and slid out of the truck.

“You don’t have a gun in there or anything, do you? We have to clear security,” Monique said.

“Ummmm, I think I’ll leave my purse in the car.” I tucked my passport in my jeans pocket, then flipped my handbag to the floor of the truck and joined the sisters on a walk toward the building.

A group had gathered in a central area, apparently waiting for a tour of the facility.

“Come on,” Monique said. “Mom’s working control.” We stopped for an ID check.

“Who’s your friend, Monique?” the employee asked.

“Believe it or not, she’s my sister. Details later, okay?” We left the woman sputtering.

“That’s Aunt Veronica. Won’t she be surprised to hear about you,” Monique remarked as the three of us took off down meandering hallways.

Red carpet paved the floor of a room that resembled the bridge of the Starship Enterprise.

“Mom,” Monique said as we entered.

At her voice, Suzette Jamison and a fellow employee glanced up from the bank of buttons and dials.

Suzette stiffened when she saw me. “Hello, Tasha.”

I gave a nod. “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that it’s Patricia.”

“Yes. So it is.” She walked toward us. “Roger is working down in the powerhouse today. He thought we could get together over supper to discuss . . . ,” her hand searched the air, “. . . whatever it is you wanted to discuss.”

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to wall me out of her life. “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t wait until supper. I really need to talk to him right away.”

“His shift ends at—”

Monique cut her off. “Mom. It’s seriously important. Take us down there. Please.”

Hands on her hips, Suzette gave a sigh. She looked toward her partner at the controls. “Can you man the helm while I take care of a family emergency?”

The worker nodded. “Take your time. Everything’s normal on the board.”

“Thanks, Pete.” She followed the carpet out the door. “This isn’t exactly protocol,” she murmured as we hastened to keep up with her. She swung a finger in Monique’s direction. “You and I are going to have a little talk later.”

“Sorry, Mom. I just know how I’d want to be treated if I were in her position.”

A shelf filled with hardhats lined the wall. We sized them up and put one on. Suzette remained quiet as we waited for the elevator.

I couldn’t take the smothering silence. “This is all my fault.”

Suzette raised her eyebrows as if to say a sarcastic “really?”

I grimaced. “I should never have involved your daughters, but it’s urgent that I speak to . . . Roger. Monique offered to drive me here, and Meagan couldn’t stay at the house by herself, just in case.”

Suzette’s arms twisted like giant pretzels. “Just in case what?”

Meagan rushed to fill her in. “Just in case the bad man is after us. He’s coming, Mom. Patricia said he might already be in town.”

I flapped my hands in denial. “No, no. I don’t know. Maybe someone might be following me, who can say?” “Just as Roger feared,” Suzette said in a weary voice. “Please,” I said while the elevator continued its descent. “This is completely unintentional. I had no idea my dad was in Churchill Falls when I arrived.”

“Just one big coincidence,” came Suzette’s cynical reply. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“No one is more surprised than me.” My stomach began floating into my rib cage. “How far down does this thing go, anyway?”

Monique answered. “Close to three hundred meters.” She must have seen the lack of comprehension on my face. “Almost a thousand feet to you Americans.”

A fifth of a mile. That was almost half the distance from the highway to the lodge on Valentine’s Bay. One-third the distance from the bus stop in Del Gloria to the row of houses on Rios Buena Suerta. A tiny fraction of the distance that now stretched between Brad’s heart and mine.

The elevator slowed and dropped to a halt. We followed a clammy tunnel toward the sound of churning machinery. The passage opened into a cavernous room that looked as long as a football field. Chunky boxes colored red, yellow, blue, and green made a line down the center, like a Rubik’s Cube tournament for giants. Next to each square was a railed-in flight of stairs, heading below ground. The walls were home to more buttons and dials along with color-coordinated doors, each with a number lit up above.

“This is the powerhouse,” Monique explained in a voice loud enough to conquer the roar. “The electricity made here every year from harnessing the Churchill River takes a conventional power company 158 thousand barrels of oil a day to produce.”

“Kudos to the tree huggers,” I said, watching two men in hardhats walk along the far wall, wondering if one of them was my father.

“Let’s hustle, girls,” Suzette said, taking off at a brisk pace toward the other end.

Cubes passed by in a whiz of color.

Suzette slowed and hailed the men, arm held high. “Roger. We need you a minute.”

My father turned his head at his wife’s voice. His eyes met hers, skimmed over his daughters, then shot to me. For a minute he looked like he might be sick again. Somehow he fought it off. He turned to his partner, gave some kind of explanation, and walked our way.

My hands shook as he came closer. What would I say to him anyway? Hey, Dad, nice meeting you, I’d love to talk, but there’s this evil dude coming after you and we really ought to leave town for a while?

He stood in front of me, Suzette talking in one ear, his daughters in the other. I just stared. Captivated. Jacob Russo in the flesh. My father. All the heartache he’d caused my mother—driving drunk and letting her take the rap, doing drugs and not being there for her, leaving her pregnant and alone, making Mom raise me by herself—somehow I couldn’t see any of those flaws when I looked at the man under the hardhat. His eyes were as blue as Puppa’s. Same high cheekbones and rounded chin, faintly wrinkled. His eyes searched mine as if seeking acceptance. Acceptance from
me
. As if I might somehow hold against him all the years we’d been apart.

I supposed I could make him pay for the sins of his youth, turn my back on him, refuse to call him father . . . the way Brad had made Denton pay. I would certainly have my revenge, if crushing a man’s spirit was a substitute for justice. But maybe I’d seek something better . . . maybe I’d decide to look more closely on the things my dad and I could share from here on out rather than the things we missed out on and could never have back.

The other women had quieted and were simply watching us.

I stretched out a hand toward him. “So. You’re my dad.”

37

My father nodded. “There’s a really good explanation for why things happened the way they did—”

I touched my finger to his lips. “No explanations necessary. I’m guessing you did the best you could at the time. Besides,” I gestured toward Monique and Meagan, “if things had happened any other way, I would have missed out on them.” Tears started gathering in my eyes and it felt like a cork was trapped in my throat. “I’m so happy to have sisters.”

At the other end of the plant, a tour came out of the tunnel onto the main floor. The voice of the guide echoed through the vast space.

By now I was holding my dad’s hands.

He squeezed my fingers. “Sometimes I look back and wish things could have been different. But then I see Suzette,” he looked at his wife with adoration, “and my girls,” his eyes swelled with tears, “and I know God worked it all out. And I knew He was watching over you. I trusted Him to keep you safe.”

Some snotty part of me wanted to demand why he thought he could be off the hook just because he turned me over to God’s care. But I shut that old voice out, wanting to hear more of the voice that said, yes, God had taken care of me my whole life. He’d taken good care of me. Exceptional care. And when I was ready, He’d led me to this place a thousand feet below ground to meet a man I’d only dreamed about. Jacob Russo had turned out to be far better a man than I had expected. Wouldn’t Puppa be proud to know his rabble-rousing son had found a steady job and had a loving family that included three more granddaughters to disrupt the stillness of the lake house?

Because of course they would come visit the lost branch of their family tree in Michigan. The blight brought on by Frank Majestic could be overcome. We’d simply stop giving Frank power over us. Light would conquer darkness. Right would prevail over wrong.

The voice of the tour guide faded as she led her flock the opposite direction.

Fingers clasped around my father’s, I swung his arms with mine in a fast, happy rhythm. “Now that we’re together, I don’t even know what to do.” I glanced around the powerhouse. A gash of rocks showed where the ceiling stopped and the walls began. “Can I hug you?”

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

I slung my arms around his neck. He bent to accommodate our bare difference in height.

He held me tight and for a moment I could see myself as a baby, wrapped in a striped blanket, fresh from my mother’s womb, being rocked in the arms of my adoring father. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true, that it had never really happened. It only mattered that it felt true at the moment. Jacob Russo loved me. He adored me. My heart could feed forever on the joyful vibes of the moment.

His embrace loosened and I let go my hold around his neck and gave him some breathing room.

Without letting go of his elbows, I met his eyes, forcing myself back to reality. “You know that it’s not a good thing I’m here.”

He nodded, in sync with my meaning.

I swallowed, reluctant to let reality settle in. “Frank Majestic’s goons followed me. I guess my whole life they’ve kept tabs on me, looking for you. And I’ve led them right to you. I don’t know what you plan to do, but you’re not safe here anymore.” I nodded at Suzette and the girls. “Neither are they. It’s only a matter of hours now before he catches up.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a plan. I always knew today would arrive. I’ve feared it. I’ve lost sleep over it. But running is a thing of the past. Our lives are here in Churchill Falls. We’ll just have to take this as it comes.”

I held his hands like a child. “Maybe we could start by notifying the authorities. At least they can be on the lookout for anyone suspicious.”

He looked to the ground. “I lied about my name, I made up my past. If someone’s coming for me, it’ll have to be Roger Jamison they’re after. That’s who I am.”

“Go ahead and be Roger Jamison. I won’t contradict your story. Listen—” I glanced at my sisters and Suzette. The three watched us with curious faces. “I have to get going. I just wanted to warn you about what’s coming your way . . . and wish you and your family the best.”

“Thank you.” He choked up. “I’m really glad to have met you, Patricia. You’re beautiful, just like your mother.”

I nodded, tears too thick in my eyes to see anything clearly. “I love you, Dad.”

A guttural cry came from his throat. He grabbed me in his arms again. “Let me kiss my baby once before she goes.”

Eyes closed, I savored the feel of my father’s lips against my temple. Tears streaked down my cheeks. I opened my eyes to the view past my dad’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of a stray tourist looking our way. The guy’s hands were tucked in the pockets of a bomber jacket worn over blue jeans. Dark hair curled from beneath his white hardhat. His face seemed intent as he stared, and somewhat familiar.

I stiffened in my dad’s hold. The last time I’d seen that man’s face, it had a purple birthmark over half of it. But even without the garish marking, there was no mistaking my classmate Simon Scroll.

Understanding rushed over me. The birthmark had been a simple disguise that let him blend in at the college. From the menacing glare of his eyes, Simon Scroll was here to kill my dad. I realized now why I’d never trusted the guy.

I tore loose from Dad’s grip, as if that could somehow undo the kiss that revealed his identity.

“He’s here,” I whispered breathlessly. “You might want to change your policy.”

My dad turned just as Simon started toward us.

“Run!” I screamed and grabbed my half sisters by the arms.

Suzette ran with us.

“George!” she yelled to the man at the far wall. “Get security down here now!”

Dad followed a few steps behind us.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a shape leap toward my father, bringing him to the ground.

I skidded to a halt. “Keep going,” I yelled to my sisters and Suzette.

The girls ran toward a far doorway. I did a 180 back in my dad’s direction.

With Jacob Russo facedown on the ground, Simon stepped on his back and cuffed him across the head.

“Dad!”

I plowed into Simon at full speed, knocking him to the metal floor. He grabbed me and threw me aside like a crash dummy. My skull landed against the sharp corner of a green cube. White dots arced across my vision.

By the time I got back on my feet, my father was draped against the safety railing of a down staircase, tossed there by Simon, who was revving up for his next blow.