Dark of the Night Read online

  She’d spent the bulk of her adult life doing just the opposite.

  He wasn’t a political reporter, true. But it didn’t really matter. Reporting was reporting. Besides, he didn’t seem the type to commit for the long run anyway, and even if he were so inclined, she doubted that he’d choose someone like her. It wasn’t as if she could just drop everything and become a regular kind of girl. There was the small matter of her father’s election to consider, and if that wasn’t enough, there was the fact that every time she saw the man, she wound up featured on 11 Alive News.

  The jury was still out on whether it was his fault the car had exploded, and he certainly didn’t cause Michaels to kill himself, but the fact remained that wherever Jake Mahoney went, trouble seemed to follow. And she wasn’t exactly in a position to court trouble. Truth was, she needed to stay as far away from it as possible.

  Which meant that she was crazy to be standing in Lenox mall surrounded by the masses, looking for a man she couldn’t possibly continue to see.

  Of course, there was still the matter of Caroline. Her sister’s pregnancy, assuming there really was one, and the resulting cover-up, had yet to be explained. But perhaps David was right and it was simply a matter of making the best of what was already an untenable position. Maybe someone in her father’s cadre of people had decided to spare him the pain of learning about Caroline’s situation. Maybe he or she had changed the documents to protect the family.

  She chewed on her lower lip, still searching the crowd. But then again, maybe not. It was all so confusing. And no matter what the reality of the situation was, the fact remained that someone out there wanted the world to believe that Caroline had been pregnant. Someone who most likely wanted to cause trouble for her father.

  She needed to make certain that nothing came of it.

  And to do that, come hell or high water, she needed Jake.

  Jake sighed and looked down at his watch for the third time. The woman was late, and he was beginning to get antsy. He hated crowds, and he hated waiting. But he needed to talk to her. And the only way that was going to happen was if he agreed to her wishes. And that meant staying put, no matter how much he hated it.

  A movement off to his right caught his attention, and he turned just as Amber Northcott swung into view. Finally. He lifted a hand, and she nodded, her lips curving into a tenuous smile. He moved forward, and the distance closed between them.

  “I was just starting to worry—” He stopped abruptly, watching as her eyes widened and her red lips opened to form a perfect O. She stumbled, and then pitched forward into his arms, her body dead weight against his.

  “Jake?” The voice—Riley’s voice—came from off to his left. She was standing a few feet away, her face devoid of color, her silvery eyes darting frantically from Amber to him and then back again.

  Amber.

  His mind clicked back into gear. Dropping to his knees, ignoring the gasps of nearby patrons, he gently rolled her over in his arms. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and his hand brushed against something wet and sticky on her back.

  Blood.

  “Somebody get help, please,” he yelled, hardly recognizing the voice as his own. From the corner of his eye he saw Riley pulling out a cell phone. Bless her.

  He focused his attention back on the woman in his arms. “Amber, can you hear me?” he whispered, fingers searching wildly for a pulse, for some sign of life. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

  But Amber wasn’t listening. With a little whoosh, she released a breath and was silent, her eyes fixed and staring at the red neon Sbarro sign.

  Chapter 21

  “WHAT THE HELL are you doing here?” Jake spoke through gritted teeth, his voice lowered to a whisper. Three detectives were conferring in an inner office of the mall’s security suite.

  “I could ask you the same question.” Her voice was laced with anger, red spots of color decorating her cheeks. “You’re the one who was dancing with a dead woman. I just came here to tell you about Bryce Daniels.”

  “I know about Bryce Daniels.” He knew he sounded snide, but they’d been waiting in the outer office for more than an hour, and things were getting a bit punchy. “I’m an investigative reporter. Remember?”

  “How could I possibly forget? Every time I see you something catastrophic happens.”

  “That doesn’t make it my fault.” He tried to sound civil, but that bullet could have easily hit her. She hadn’t been two feet away. His heart rate increased with just the thought, the idea of losing her filling him with anger all over again.

  She sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You could have been hurt.”

  “So could you.” She met him glare for glare, then closed her eyes, her anger deflating. “Look, this isn’t working, Jake. I can’t keep on doing this. Any of it.”

  She wasn’t talking about the investigation anymore, but perversely, he needed to hear her say it clearly. “What do you mean?”

  She opened her eyes but refused to look at him. “I mean that I should never have gotten involved with you. My father was right. It’s too dangerous.”

  His grip on her shoulders tightened, his gut churning with emotions—exasperation, anger, fear. “What about Caroline?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll tell my father. Let him decide what to do. I just know I can’t handle this anymore.”

  “So you’re just going to walk away?” He searched her face, looking for some sign that she cared. That this was as difficult for her as it was for him.

  “I don’t see that I have a choice. Everything I am is tied up with my father and his campaign, and everything about you threatens that, Jake.”

  “Goddamn it, Riley. I’m not a threat—to you or to the campaign.”

  She jerked away from him, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Maybe not intentionally, and maybe not with this, but sooner or later there’s going to be a conflict of interest. Something you find out that you shouldn’t know. Someone that thinks they can get to my father through you. Can’t you see that? I can’t take that chance with my father’s future, Jake. He’s worked too hard. This is his moment, and I won’t take it away from him.”

  “You’re talking nonsense. I investigate homicides, for God’s sake. I don’t see how anything I do can affect the campaign.” His gaze dueled with hers.

  “In just under four days you’ve involved me in a car bombing, a man’s suicide, a near hit and run, and now a woman’s execution. I’ve been in the news daily, and the coverage hasn’t been flattering. My father has spent the bulk of his valuable press time answering questions about my escapades. Escapades I would never have had if it weren’t for you.

  “And the tabloids are just beginning to have fun with it. ‘Bomb Explodes: Senator’s Daughter Goes Down.’ ” She waved a hand through the air, her voice rising. “ ‘Suicide Southern Style: Lovers’ Triangle? Candidate’s Daughter Goes Under Covers.’ Film at eleven.

  “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what happens, the press will make a three ring circus out of it and the damage will be done. That I’ve even allowed myself to be in this position is unforgivable. I owe my father better than that.”

  “But sometimes things happen, Riley—things we can’t control—and that doesn’t mean we just throw them away when they become difficult. Life is messy. It comes with baggage, and problems, and dirty laundry.”

  “Maybe yours does. But mine can’t.” She lifted her chin, her silvery eyes hardening. “Mine can’t.”

  Pain bit into his gut and Jake steeled himself, letting his anger insulate him against her words. She was rejecting him. It was that simple. She’d rather live in her make-believe castle than in the real world with him. So be it. “Abso-fucking-lutely right. We mustn’t let anything sully your majesty’s royal name.”

  “Jake, please. Try and understand.”

  “Oh, I get it,
Riley. Believe me, I get it in spades. So why don’t you just get the hell out of here, before something happens you’ll really regret. Run home to Daddy, princess. Let him keep you warm at night.” He pointed at the door, wishing the words back even before he’d finished the thought.

  First surprise, then anger, and finally the stark pain of betrayal chased across her face. Her jaw tightened and her eyes flashed. “Fine by me. I don’t know what I was thinking spending time with someone like you anyway. There are a lot of fish in the sea, Mr. Mahoney, and you’re right, I don’t have to settle for anything less than the best.”

  The door slammed shut, and Jake stood there staring at the place where she’d been, his heart ravaged so badly he was finding it difficult to breathe.

  The truth was, he was in love with the princess. And she’d just left the building.

  Permanently.

  “So the woman never said a thing?” Tim’s frustration was evident.

  “There wasn’t much time. Between the shooting and dying, I mean.” Jake knew he sounded sarcastic, but he couldn’t help it. It had been a hell of a day all in all. He’d realized he loved Riley, and lost her at practically the same moment. His story had hit another solid dead end. And to top it off, it was entirely possible that he might be the next target

  “Jesus, I’m not being particularly sensitive, am I?”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Jake smiled. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d say somewhere around a one. But hey, sharing and caring isn’t exactly your strong point.”

  “Seriously, I wasn’t thinking. Maybe it’s time for you to back off of this thing. We can put someone else on it.”

  “Not on your life. I started this and I’m going to see it through. I’ll be fine. I’m good at watching my back, remember?”

  “You’re sure?” Tim’s look had changed to assessing. “We can always go with what we’ve got. It may not be substantiated as well as we’d like. But you’ve certainly bit into something.”

  Jake ran a weary hand through his hair. “I’m fine, Tim. And I want to get to the bottom of this. Just give me another day. Let me see what I can find. David’s still working on the bombing angle. Maybe he’s found something.”

  Tim frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.”

  “I’m just asking for twenty-four hours.”

  “All right. One day. But not a second longer. And if you don’t have anything new, we go with what we’ve got. Agreed?”

  Jake nodded, too tired to formulate an answer.

  “Good.” Tim smiled. “In the meantime, we’ll run the Northcott story. We can at least tie that to Larsen’s murder.” Tim pushed his glasses more firmly onto his nose. “So whatever happened with the information you found on Caroline O’Brien?”

  Jake hesitated for an instant. It would be the perfect way to get even. To show Miss High-and-Mighty how the world really worked. But revenge wasn’t his style. “Nothing there. Just someone trying to make something out of nothing.”

  “So all’s well that ends well?” Tim as usual had successfully read between the lines, his myopic eyes expressing his concern.

  “I suspect I’ll survive.” Jake tried for a grin but missed, the result more of a lopsided grimace.

  “You’re better off without her, my friend. Carter O’Brien and his lot aren’t exactly in-law material. You know?”

  Jake knew that Tim was right. Knew that he was lucky to be out of it all. But somewhere along the way, it seemed his heart hadn’t gotten the memo.

  “What I don’t understand is what you were doing at Lenox Square in the first place.” Riley’s father reached for a rose cane and carefully trimmed the topmost leaves.

  “I was doing what people normally do at the mall, Daddy. I was shopping.” She pasted a smile on her face, wondering if her misery showed. She’d done the right thing in ending it. Whatever it had been. But she hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.

  “And you just happened to run into Jake Mahoney?” Her father’s voice was skeptical.

  “Yes.” One more lie and then it would all be over. She’d just try and forget about all of it. If she could. “I didn’t really run into him, anyway. I just happened to be there when . . . when that poor woman was shot.”

  Her father’s look changed to one of concern, and he dropped his pruners and helped her to a garden bench. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I know it must have been awful for you. It’s just that I was so worried. What with the press and all.”

  She wondered peevishly if it was her or the campaign he’d been worried about, then decided she really didn’t want the answer. “I’m fine. Really. It’s all over now, and I promise you, I’m not going to see Jake Mahoney again.”

  Her father sat beside her, taking her hands in his. “Riley, you know I only want what’s best for you. Unfortunately, sometimes what’s best isn’t always clear, and then even when you know for certain what has to be done, it can still hurt like hell to do it.”

  She nodded, tears welling.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into his arms, his voice gruff with emotion.

  “It just hurts so much.” She tried but couldn’t stop the tears. “I . . . I was starting to . . . to care about him.”

  “I know it’s painful, darlin’. But think of it like a Band-Aid. Better to rip it off all at once and get it over with.”

  She nodded against his chest, still sniffling, feeling all of about twelve again. “I know you’re right, but that doesn’t seem to help.”

  “Ah, Riley, if only I could kiss it and make it better like I did when you were a little girl.”

  “I wish you could too. I’ve been so stupid.”

  “No, darlin’. You’ve just been human, and that’s not a fault.”

  “But I may have jeopardized your campaign.” She didn’t even want to think about what Jake might do with the information he had.

  “I know you feel like that. But I can’t imagine that you’ve done anything to compromise me or the campaign.”

  “I slept with him, Daddy.”

  She felt him tense, but his hand on her hair was gentle. “Well, now, princess, you aren’t the first woman to fall for a pretty face.”

  She tipped back her head to look at him. “But it could be blown out of proportion. It’s exactly the kind of thing the tabloids have a heyday with.”

  “It’ll be all right, I promise you. There’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s over now. If there’s any kind of storm, we’ll weather it together.”

  She frowned, searching her father’s face. “You’re not going to do anything to hurt Jake, are you?”

  “Not in the way you mean. Although just at the moment, I’d kind of like to go a few rounds with him.” Her father smiled, but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t like the idea of someone hurting my little girl.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t do anything, Daddy.” The truth was, she wasn’t certain who had hurt whom, and the idea of retribution didn’t appeal at all. “I just want to put it behind me. Okay?”

  “All right, princess. We’ll just move on from here. How’s that sound?” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  “It sounds good.” She gave him a watery smile. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too, princess. What do you say we don’t give Jake Mahoney another thought?” Her father tightened his embrace.

  She nodded against his chest, letting his warmth comfort her, wishing he really could make everything all right. The problem was, despite her protestations to the contrary, she still wanted Jake Mahoney.

  In fact, she wanted him with all of her heart.

  In prison, each day and night had a sameness. A predictability that suckered a man in, until he came to rely on it. To live for it. In the beginning, Haywood had tried to fight it. But like a slowly moving cancer, it had picked away at him, until it was no longer a separate entity, but part of him, necessary for his survival.
r />   The thought scared him. If he couldn’t live without the life, what would happen to him on the outside? Not that there was much chance of that.

  He rolled over, opening his eyes, the dark almost a palpable, living thing—reaching out for him, calling his name, taunting him. Bryce Daniels was dead. Somehow they’d gotten to him.

  He closed his eyes, not sure which was worse—the dark or his nightmares. He’d thought by rescuing Bryce, he’d paid for his sins. Turned some celestial corner that would bring him back into the light. But penance was impossible. Peace unobtainable. And nothing could change that fact. No moment of good could outweigh his evil.

  In one arrogant moment, high on life and Glenlivet, he’d slammed his car into an embankment and killed his wife. In a fury of anger and retribution, her brother had seen to it that he’d received the maximum sentence. Incarceration in hell.

  Douglas Michaels had made it his goal to see to it that Haywood never forgot what it was he had done. But Haywood knew something his wife’s brother had never understood. There was no need for a reminder. None at all. In or out of prison, he’d never forget. Never. He’d hear Melanie’s screams until the day he died.

  Evil always won.

  He’d killed his wife and saved his friend. But in the end they’d both ended up just as dead.

  He reached out, his hand touching the smooth cardboard of Bryce’s box. Bits and pieces of memories. Records of a man’s life. Cynicism faded as hope blossomed, spreading up his arm, reaching down into his heart. Maybe all was not lost.

  Maybe there was something he could do. At least someone he could talk to. There might be no redemption, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t repay his debt.

  Bryce Daniels had been his friend. Not even death could change that fact. Whatever the forces at play here, he had to believe there was hope. For without it, Bryce would be forgotten.

  And his friend was worthy of a far greater legacy than that.

  Tomorrow, he’d do what he could to set things right.

  Jake opened the apartment door, juggling yet another take-out bag. He really needed to do something about his diet. Like learn to cook.