No Time to Hide (12 page)

“That’ll be perfect then. I want to be there when you get her. I want to look in her eyes and see the fear once more. Keep me posted.”

He tossed down the phone and turned to reenter the prisoners’ area. Inside, he was rubbing his hands together. Soon he would have her in his control again. It was the ultimate capper to this entire mess. Yes, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

Sunday, 10:38 P.M.

Kerry watched silently as Cutter led the way into the darkened United States District Courthouse on Court Street. Downtown Buffalo was a little on the sleepy side at this time on a Sunday night. There had been a resurgence in nightlife in the downtown area, but most of the action was north of here in the theatre district, where upscale and downscale bars tried to lure in both the audiences and the people living in the renovated loft apartments and condominiums that catered to young urban singles.

But the U.S. Courthouse was nestled in what was called Courthouse Row. They were a stone’s throw from the Buffalo City Hall, city courthouse, the Erie County Sheriff’s Office and the Erie County Hall. And the FBI headquarters was only a brisk walk away.

This time of night Cutter wasn’t worried about trouble from any of them. He’d told Kerry he had his ID and security pass so they shouldn’t even raise an alarm from the guards who watched the building twenty-four/seven. But Kerry couldn’t seem to relax. She chewed on her fingernails and played with her necklace, two signs of her increasing panic. And her reactions were also sending his Spidey sense into high gear.

He looked again at his companion. There was no way she could blend into the shadows. Despite her attempt to look inconspicuous, Cutter knew there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t notice—and remember—her. That was the odd part. Kerry wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. In fact, from a strictly clinical point of view, Helen had been much more beautiful with her native heritage and stunning beauty. She would have fit in on a modeling runway or on the big screen equally well. Kerry’s beauty was something much harder to classify. And thus, more memorable.

He had to hope the building security guards were a little lazy going through the security tapes.

Cutter ran his security card through the laser tracker, then punched in his clearance code. There was a slight delay followed by a reassuring click as the locks on the doors slid open.

He took Kerry by the hand and hustled her through both sets of doors. Once inside, he bypassed the electronic security booth that would be manned both electronically and by guards during business hours, then turned down the first hall on the left into the block of offices that housed the U.S. Marshals Service.

The lights were turned low in accordance with the government’s attempt to save on energy costs, but Cutter didn’t need light. He knew the layout like the back of his hand. It was eerily quiet here, but that didn’t bother him either. He and Helen had spent many late nights working and laughing as they pored over the reams of paperwork that went along with their jobs.

He waited for the expected wave of pain to overwhelm him at the thought of Helen. Instead, he felt an unexpected sense of peace that he could remember the good times with the bad.

“My office is over here,” he murmured, pulling Kerry along beside him. Office was really a stretch. It was more like a closet with Plexiglas walls on three sides and a narrow door into the bullpen area. His gray metal government-issue desk had probably been in use since World War II, but on its top was a flat screen monitor attached to a computer sitting on the floor. He didn’t consider himself a neat freak, but since he’d been readying himself for resignation, most of the paperwork had been cleared away.

He moved behind the desk and tapped a key, calling the computer out of sleep mode. Once it was awake, he logged into the network. With a few keystrokes, he had the Giancarlo file up on his screen.

“Is that us?” Kerry’s soft voice and her hand on his shoulder sent shivers down his spine.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He didn’t bother to correct her. Startling had nothing to do with it. Ruining his concentration certainly, but that was another area he wasn’t about to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Yes.” He weaved his way through folder after folder of electronic information on Giancarlo and the case. He was tempted to pull up the copy of the file on Kerry he’d been given, but was loath to embarrass her. And he remembered there were some embarrassing facts there.

Things like the times her “dates” with Dom had started and ended. There were transcripts of conversations Dom had had with his cronies about her sexual exploits.

Before he had met her, Cutter had read the files without thought. It was merely standard operating procedure. The case against Giancarlo and Kerry’s father had been years in the making. The Feebs were pretty anal about some things, which was a good thing when it came to gathering evidence. All it took was one look at the Giancarlo file to tell Cutter that the special agent in charge of the case had been as neat as a pin and as thorough as an old maid school teacher. God love him.

Cutter had frowned as he’d read Giancarlo’s comments about screwing Kerry. He didn’t understand men who felt the need to brag about their sexual conquests. His childhood background hadn’t been the best in the world, but he’d been raised that a gentlemen didn’t talk about certain things. His short tour in the army had taught him that the biggest talkers had the most limited experience.

According to the files the Feebs kept, Dom loved to talk. He also loved to nail just about anything with two legs and a pair of mammary glands, apparently the larger the better. He looked over at Kerry’s slight, firm frame. Not for the first time, Cutter wondered what had ever drawn the Kerry he was beginning to know and care for to a lowlife like Dom.

The mouse pointer hovered over the folder he wanted. It was labeled PWT. Phone wire taps.

One double click and they were in. It listed every phone number Kerry’s father had called for the six weeks prior to his death.

“Wait a minute. That doesn’t look right.” Kerry breathy soft voice brushed over the back of his neck like a caress.

“What?”

She moved closer and her body brushed against his shoulder. “I’m reading this right, aren’t I? The first column is the date?”

“Yes. The second is the time. They list it as a twenty-four-hour clock like the military. The third is the number, with area code, either dialed or received. The last column is the length of the call.”

Kerry nodded. “But this can’t be right. They show no calls on the day I told you about.”

Cutter looked closely. She was right. The list skipped from August 14th to August 16th. “Is it possible you’ve mixed up the date?”

“No.”

“It’s been a long time. Maybe it was on the sixteenth. Or it could’ve been on the fourteenth.”

Kerry shook her head. “No, no, no. I remember it distinctively because it was such a lousy day. And I know I called home earlier on the fifteenth. I know it.”

Cutter turned his eyes away from the computer screen to look at her, giving her his full attention.

“Look,” she said with a frown, “I’m not making this up. I know I called on the fifteenth.” She started to pace and gnaw on her bottom lip. When she started to rock back-and-forth, Cutter knew her well enough to realize she was beginning to get nervous. He took a moment to wonder what in her life had caused her to have such self-doubt.

In an effort to calm her down, Cutter touched her hand. “Take a deep breath. I believe you. Just tell me why you’re certain. What happened?”

Kerry chewed on her bottom lip. He had to fight the urge to pull her into his lap and soothe the redness that appeared after her nervous reaction.

“Dom and Daddy insisted I go shopping for my trousseau on that day. I didn’t want to. Well, I wanted to go shopping because I was happy to be marrying Dom. Then. I didn’t realize what he was really like. But they insisted I go with his mother and sisters.”

“You didn’t get along with Mrs. Giancarlo?” Cutter’s voice was husky. He hoped she wouldn’t be able to tell how turned on he was just by looking at her, just by having her lean in so close he could feel her body heat and smell the clean, honest scent of her. The combination on Kerry was a more powerful aphrodisiac than expensive perfume on other women.

She wrinkled her nose. He put his hands back on the keyboard to keep from grabbing her and pulling her into his lap, into his arms.
Focus, damn it.

“Well, no. It’s just Mrs. Giancarlo had some very old-fashioned ideas. I think it was just because of her age.”

Cutter laughed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want to wear a white dress? That would’ve been something, getting married in St. Patrick’s Cathedral wearing red or something.”

Kerry laughed. “It wasn’t going to be red. It was going to be peach. And I didn’t want to get married in St. Patrick’s. I’m not Catholic. Neither is my father.”

Cutter cocked his head waiting for her to explain.

Kerry laughed. “We’re agnostic.”

Cutter burst out laughing. “When did you tell Mrs. Giancarlo that?”

“When we were standing in the bridal shop arguing over dresses. She fainted, right in the middle of the store. Dom’s sister had to call her father and Dom. They took Mrs. Giancarlo straight to the emergency room.”

“Just for fainting?”

“Yes. It seems Mrs. Giancarlo has a bit of a problem. Frankly, I think she’s a hypochondriac.”

Cutter laughed softly “So what did you do while they were getting her to the hospital?”

“Well, I didn’t think I should ride with her to the emergency room. And Dom’s sister, Gloria, was giving me unbelievably dirty looks.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So, I just finished shopping. I bought the peach dress I wanted, by the way, and headed home.”

Cutter couldn’t help himself. He had to do it. He pushed his chair back from the desk and pulled her into his arms. He tasted her joy and love of life. It eased something inside of him as well. As their lips merged and opened, he felt his own laughter gurgle as well. Instead of dampening the desire, he felt it grow deeper until it filled him in every way. He was so glad to know her, so glad she had managed to survive all the pitfalls that had fallen in her path. When he ended the kiss, they were both breathless and grinning.

“So when did you call home?” he asked, bringing them back to the important subject.

“In the car,” she said. “I wanted to see if Daddy wanted me to grab some takeout, since it seemed I was suddenly free.”

“And did you get your father?”

“Yes. He said he didn’t want me to pick something up. He wanted me to come home. We’d go out to dinner somewhere. Nice, he said.”

Cutter nodded. “Okay. So what was his mood like? Did he sound upset?”

“No.”

There she went, chewing on her bottom lip again. This time he resisted the temptation to kiss her. He didn’t think he could stand another taste. Well, he could stand it, but he knew damn well he didn’t want the next time to stop with just a kiss on her lips. He wanted the next time to be able to taste every inch of her.

She moved across the room. She was flushed and wildly attractive to him, her lips still moist and slightly red from his kiss. He would feel triumphant at bringing her to this point, if it wasn’t for the fact he could feel the sweat beading along his forehead and the tension in his genitals that signaled his need had reached the boiling point quicker than he planned.

“Good move,” he murmured, praising her move to the other side of his cubicle, even as he wished she was still within his reach. “We’ve got to focus on business. Tell me what you remember. As much as possible.”

Kerry touched her fingers to her lips, looking as rocked as he felt by their passion. With a visible effort, she refocused on the past. “Daddy seemed fine, maybe a little distracted.” She paused. “I almost thought someone was there with him because there seemed to be noises in the background. But when I asked him about it, he said he was alone. At the time, I thought it was just cell phone static.”

“So you believed him?”

“Then. I mean, who could it have been? I know Charles and Maisy, our gardener and cook, were off that day. They left the house when I did.”

Cutter shrugged. “It could’ve been anyone. Did you father have any close friends? Any female friends?”

Kerry opened her mouth and started to reply, then stopped. “I don’t know. You’ve got to remember I’d been living in Europe. I…”

“You didn’t know what was going on in your father’s life,” Cutter finished for her.

“No.” Defeated, Kerry sank down into a hard metal chair.

“Okay. Let’s talk about when you got home. What happened then?”

“I got home and put my dress in the foyer closet. I was excited, even with what had happened with Mrs. Giancarlo. It isn’t every day a girl buys her wedding dress, you know.”

Cutter nodded. In all truth, he had no idea. Helen and he had been married in Vegas. They had barely managed to pull on jeans and get a local JP to do the deed between bouts of rousing sex. In fact, they may have been a bit tipsy at the time of their marriage. Not that it mattered. Helen had been the only woman he’d ever considered settling down with. The only woman he’d ever thought could and would put up with his dedication to his job. Things change.

“So you were pumped up. Excited,” he prompted Kerry, who seemed to be lost again in her thoughts.

“Yes. I called out for Daddy. That’s when I heard him yelling.”