Safe Haven (9 page)

"An ambitious, self-serving reporter with a connection to the 'other side' and a desire to tell VolTerre's story."

He grinned for the first time since she'd come in. "Pretty good job of stretching the truth. You must've pulled it off. You got out with your skin intact." The danger in what she'd done sobered him. "But you took a foolish risk. I've got the scars to prove how rough those blokes can play. If you'd told me what you were doing, I would never've let you go."

He could almost see her back stiffen at the word "let" but apparently the verbal slip merited only a steely glare.

 
"That's why I didn't tell you."

He shook his head. "Since you've said you didn't find anything, what upset you?"

"Seeing the rubble. Thinking about the lives lost and the families that have suffered, about the way you must feel. Even Conlon - he paid a heavy price for his mistakes - or dishonesty, whichever it was."

"I knew his son. He was a good kid."

"He was my age.

"You aren’t exactly ancient either, are you?"

A faint flush dusted her cheeks, but she took no notice of his clumsy attempt at a compliment.

"Conlon didn't reveal anything except his sadness over his son's death. Maybe he thought letting go to a reporter would be good press."

"That's pretty cynical, isn't it?"

"I don't trust him."

"You're right not to, except where his son's death is concerned. The loss devastated him."

"He said his wife has suffered terribly. Do you know her?"

"Yeah. She's a nice lady, kind of regal, but always sad. Terry Junior's death nearly did her in."

Jordan
dug in her cavernous handbag and handed him the fragment of metal lathing. “Does this mean anything to you?"

He laid it on the table and examined the material that appeared to be woven out of multiple strands of steel wire. "Where'd you find it?"

She put on her glasses. "Let’s get your photos. I'll show you."

Inside the study, she fanned the stack on the table and pulled out a shot of the site looking down from the building next door. She pointed to the middle level. "They stored a lot of materials in there."

He walked to the window and stared out, his hands in his pockets.

"Could this have contributed to the accident?" she asked.

"It conforms to code, so we'd have a tough time making that case, but I did specify a heavier gauge."

He rubbed the back of his neck, then went to the desk, returning with a drawing and an oversized bolt covered with remnants of concrete. Instead of handling it, he used the tip of a pencil to gently turn it, clearly to avoid dislodging any of the material that clung to the threads circling one end.

"I found this during one of my midnight excursions into the site. Here's the schematic - we looked at it before, if you remember. See if you can tell the difference between the two fasteners."

She lined up the bolt with the drawing and the difference was obvious. "This doesn't have that other gizmo that your drawing has."

"Is that anything like a 'thingo'?"

"Only if that's the same as a 'whatchamacallit.'"

He laughed. "You are good for me, love."
 
He put an arm around her shoulder for a moment, then quickly drew away as she stiffened. Something had thrown her off balance.

She eased away and pointed to the drawing. "Back to business."
 

He rubbed his neck again and continued. "This fastener can pull out of the concrete more easily and is more likely to fail under stress." He paused for a moment, then added. "And it’s cheaper. By half."

He carried the items to his desk and locked the drawer. "When all I had was the fastener, I couldn't see any reason for the substitution. Now, I'm beginning to wonder."

"If you could make a case what would it be?"

"They were cutting corners."

"To compensate for overspending somewhere else?" she asked.

They stood at the window, looking down at the park. A soap-and-water-clean feminine scent teased his senses and sent his blood charging through his veins to pool in his groin. Keeping his distance was proving difficult at best. She cleared her throat. Had the chemistry finally gotten to her? He turned to face her.

"I did some research on VolTerre,” she said. “They're prone to cost overruns, sometimes as much as forty percent over bid."

Ethan whistled in surprise.

"What if they were having the same problem on your project and were trying to reduce costs?"

He braced one arm against the window frame and fisted his free hand against his hip. "If they downgraded across the board the difference could be in the millions."

"What kind of proof would you need?"

"A lot more than a fastener and a fragment of lath."

"How do you suppose they managed to get this job?"

He shook his head and turned to her. "I have no idea."

"Maybe I should do some more digging.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Conlon expects me to call him again."

Her reaction sent a chill through him. "No. You're not getting any more involved in this. I'll take it from here. You go back to your work with my brother and keep out of danger."

"I am not in danger."

"And that's the way I want you to stay." He laid a finger across her lips. He felt their softness on his fingertip even after he withdrew. "I don't want to argue about it."

"Bossy, aren't you? And a bit of a chauvinist, I think..."

Jordan
watched his expression turn serious as his eyes darkened with emotion.

"This has nothing to do with chauvinism. Be sure of that."

She felt as though she was back at the edge of the cliff, only this time in a battle to keep from tumbling over. He made a move toward her, but she turned away and walked into the kitchen, hoping he wouldn't follow. She had no desire to test either her reactions to him or her shaky equilibrium. She lit a flame under the teapot, and breathed deeply to calm her jittery pulse.
 
She hadn’t lost her balance, not once in thirteen years. She would not now.

At dinner, he seemed preoccupied. When pressed, he refused to explain, but his very reticence spoke volumes.

"You're going back to the project, aren't you?"

He looked at her with an expression close to annoyance. "That's the second time you've read my mind."

"Just trying to keep you out of trouble."

"I'm going and don't argue me out of it."

"Why not? I've a whole list of arguments just begging to be used."

"Yeah, well, I've heard 'em all before and they won't work. So save your breath."

"Then let me go with you."

"No." He shook his head. "Not on your life."

Then I'll follow you, she thought.

This time he read her mind. "Don't you dare!"

Chapter 5

At eleven o'clock, Kevin picked her up in front of the hotel and drove to the site, arguing all the way that he should be the one to go inside. "After all," he reasoned finally, "I'm the old jungle fighter, not you."

"Maybe so, but I've been inside and you haven't. Besides, I was asked to keep an eye on him."

"By whom?"

She looked at his profile, wondering if he could be trusted. Certainly Ethan thought so. "By his brother, but keep the information to yourself."

"Never fear, love. I know how Ethan feels about Andrew. He ought to let bygones be. The bloke's not all that bad, a bit la-di-da, maybe, but decent enough." He glanced at her. "Now what about the problem at hand. I don't like either of you taking chances."

Resigned that his caution made sense, she sighed. "Okay, if we're not out in forty minutes, you come in after us." She looked at him. "Agreed?"

“Forty minutes?” He grinned. “Exactly?” He circled the block, coming to a stop at the back of the project. She went to an abandoned door that the builders had salvaged and set into the wooden fence. Ethan had picked the padlock. Inside, she used her key chain flashlight to augment the safety lights hanging here and there. She made her way around piles of lumber and cinder block, moving as quietly as she could past concrete molds and rolls of wire mesh.

Suspecting he would be on the third level, she climbed a metal staircase and searched. He wasn't. She made the rounds of every likely place, wondering about the security he'd mentioned. This was a really dumb idea, she thought finally. How could she have expected to find him in the dark? If she'd just let Kevin go in, he might have been able to anticipate Ethan's moves. She sighed. What did she know about this stuff anyway?

About to give up and head for the door, she found herself flooded with light and backed against the wall of a small storage shed. She'd been so deep in thought she hadn't heard anyone approach. The glare kept her from seeing who confronted her, but she suspected the pressure against her ribs came from a gun barrel. The massive size of the two men flanking her kept her from moving.

"You turn up in the damnedest places, lady," a disembodied voice commented. "Let’s just stash you away 'till the boss gets here and figures out what to do with you."

Without giving her time for a protest, one of the men shoved her into the shed and slammed the door. The bolt thunked into place, awakening an old but familiar dread. She stumbled to a bare spot against the wall and slid to the floor, huddling there with her knees drawn to her chest, staring through the darkness at nothing.

An avalanche of fear flowed over her, as instant as the darkness had been, as pervasive as the cold, as suffocating as the stale air she breathed. Fourteen years slipped away and a reasonably poised, self-possessed woman became the frightened fifteen year old she'd been the day her life had changed forever for no reason she ever could fathom. Memory, dark and ugly, catapulted her back to a time and place holding only terror, shame and, ultimately, the loss of all she cherished.

She needed all her self control to distinguish this prison from the other, the woman from the girl and to remember that this time, at least, she knew why she was here.

Her heart hammered against the wall of her chest, her pulse raced and the newly awakened memories tugged at her. A pair of golden eyes filled the focal plane behind her eyelids. Cold, unblinking, the eyes of the wolf seemed to penetrate her soul, to hold her in a hypnotic grip too powerful to break.

“Stop it,” she whispered into the darkness. “He can’t get to you. Nothing can if you don’t let it. Now, get busy and get yourself out of here.”

She felt around in the darkness, looking for a sharp tool, finally latching onto a metal object that felt like a crowbar. Passing her hand down the door frame, she located a hinge and began to dig at the wood surrounding it.

Although she tried to work quietly, the sound of cracking wood echoed like fireworks in the silence. The noise tempted her to stop but she kept working. Finally, the wood gave way and the door sagged against its frame. She slipped through the opening, breathing deeply of the night air as she headed for the entrance she'd used earlier, making herself promises about being less impulsive in the future. Alert now as she hadn't been earlier, she felt a man's presence and stopped in her tracks. He did the same, but fortunately for both of them, muttered a curse she just managed to hear. She touched him on the arm.

"Ethan?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for you."

"Let's get out of here," he whispered. He took her by the hand and they moved toward the back door, then slipped through. Ethan eased it closed and reset the padlock. They moved down the block and stopped in the shadow of Kevin’s van.