High stakes, p.14
High Stakes, page 14
9:40 P.M.
“Maria told me you were in here,” Tanner said as he strolled toward the chair where Lara was sitting before the keyboard. “I see Mallory got you set up.” He looked around the tiled floors, the beautifully crafted amber windows and arched ceiling. “Your keyboard looks like a poor relation in here. I don’t blame you for just sitting there and not playing. This room deserves a grand piano, but Sandrino never got around to finding one and left it up to me.” His lips twisted. “I got busy and disappointed him as I did you. Life has a habit of getting in the way. But I’ll still keep my word to you. Did you and Maria have something to eat?”
“Rennell’s stew,” she said curtly. “It was excellent.” She got up from her chair. Then she braced herself and turned to face him. “And I don’t give a damn about this fancy music room. Once I start playing, I don’t notice anything else. And the reason I’m not playing right now is that I didn’t want to become distracted before I got answers. Are you ready to give them to me?”
“It’s why I’m here,” he said simply. “Rennell brought it to my attention that I had no choice. You were making him very edgy. Which meant you were obviously going to cause me too much trouble unless I got you on my side.” He shook his head. “Correction. I wouldn’t expect you to go quite that far. Ask your questions, Lara.”
“I’ll start with the most important one. Have you heard from your friend Sherman about any attacks happening at the airport yet?”
“Not a word. I would have told you right away. You’ll know everything as soon as I do.” He paused. “But it’s probably only a matter of time.”
“I know that. It’s always only been a matter of time with my father and Volkov,” she said bitterly. “But this was different, I had a chance. I could give Maria a chance. I won’t give that up. Second question. Why did you bring me here?” She took a step closer to him. “Who is this Sandrino? And what do I have to do with him? You nodded at me when you were talking to Rennell about him. Does Sandrino have anything to do with Kaskov?”
“That’s a lot of questions. I’ll take them one at a time. I brought you here for the reason I told you: I can keep you safe here. It’s totally private, and you have to admit that it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to storm this house.” He paused. “Who is Sandrino? He’s a bit harder to explain.” He pulled out his phone to show her the photo of a silver-haired man in his late fifties or early sixties who was smiling sardonically up at her. “This is Antonio Sandrino. I met him in Hell’s Kitchen when I was fourteen. I was playing cards in the back room of a bar and doing damn well for myself. Of course, I got beat up pretty frequently when one of the other players thought I was doing too well. Not that I cheated. I learned very early that if I was good enough, I wouldn’t have to cheat. Sandrino owned several restaurants in New York and had money to burn, but he was better known for the games he ran. He was the best poker player in the country, maybe the world. He was always jetting to Europe or South America to some game or other. Everyone wanted a chance to play Sandrino. He was in the big leagues. I was flattered he’d drop into the bar every now and then and watch us play. He wouldn’t say anything, he’d just watch the game. I thought he was weird, but I kind of liked him. Then one night I ended up in the alley outside the bar with my pockets picked and a very bad concussion. I woke up in a bedroom here a few weeks later with Sandrino staring down at me. I got very nervous. I was afraid he was even weirder than I thought.” He grinned. “It turned out he was, but not in that way. He told me that he and Rennell had wasted a lot of time taking care of me, and he made it a habit of never making an investment without demanding a return. So he’d decided to keep me here and teach me until he was sure that I wasn’t going to end up in a morgue instead of an alley next time.” He shrugged. “And that was the start of my relationship with Sandrino. He became my mentor, my friend, and many other things I’d never known before.”
“Which has nothing to do with me,” she said in exasperation. “Why did you let Rennell think it did?”
“Because it has a good deal to do with you,” he said quietly. “Sandrino disappeared eighteen months ago on one of his trips overseas, and I’ve been trying to track him down ever since. I got as far as St. Petersburg, Russia, before the trail ran out.” He smiled wryly. “But last week Kaskov paid me a visit and told me he’d use all his connections to find him for me if I’d do him a small favor.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “Not so small, as it turned out. But I needed that information about Sandrino. I was at a dead end.”
“And that was why you agreed to get Maria and me out of Russia?” she asked slowly. “He could have been lying to you.”
“I didn’t think he was. I was willing to take a chance.” He made a face. “Though not with any degree of eagerness. I didn’t like the idea of doing Kaskov’s errands.” He looked her in the eye. “But I didn’t think this one was meant to hurt you. One of the last things he did to convince me to take the job was to hand me a DVD of you playing Rachmaninoff. He said I should see what they were trying to kill. It was a good move on his part.”
“Together with the Sandrino info,” she said quietly.
He nodded. “He had me.” He added, “But I made you a promise about protecting you from Volkov and your father—and if you remember, that also included Kaskov. I intend to keep that promise. That hasn’t changed.”
“Except that they’re coming closer now than I thought they’d be.” Then she made an impatient gesture. “And I know that’s my fault, but it scared me. And when I realized this place would be as hard to get out of as a prison, it just made it worse.”
“It’s not your fault. I told you I always run any job I take on.” He smiled faintly. “But I agree this place can be a prison until it becomes a haven. It was both to me. Along with being a school and sometimes a therapy workshop. Sandrino grew up on the streets, and life was as rough for him as it was for me. Once he’d made it big time, one of the first things he built was this place, where he could always be safe in case life crashed down around him.”
“He certainly did that,” she said dryly. “Those thorns are a huge deterrent.”
“Not one you can’t conquer. Rennell was impressed.” He added, “Which is another reason we’re having this talk. Since I had to let him know that you’re important for me getting information about Sandrino, he’s a little nervous about you deciding you might want to leave us. Could you please not hang out on the top of that wall again?”
She suddenly chuckled. “I can’t imagine him nervous. He’s totally without expression—he reminds of the giant in the fairy tale Maria used to read me when I was little. I might want to do it again just to see it for myself.”
He flinched. “That would make it extremely difficult for me. Rennell and I have had our disagreements over the years, but I’d prefer not to be at odds with him. Sandrino had an unwritten rule to that effect, and neither of us disputed it because Sandrino had saved both of us.”
“How did he save Rennell? You said he was a cop.”
“One of the best, totally devoted. But his captain sent him undercover with the Gardellas, one of the deadliest crime families in New York. In order to get evidence, he had to stay undercover for over six years. That meant he had to become one of them. Rennell never did anything halfway. By the time he got his evidence, he was the most valuable ‘made’ man in the family. He’d become a killer, a thief, anything required by the mob. He’d begun to like it. It was questionable that he’d even turn over that evidence after he’d gathered it. But Nine Eleven happened and he left the family and ran to help his old unit at the tower. He was the only one of them who survived when the tower fell. He ended up in a psych ward in bad shape for six months. Sandrino was working with the survivors and he decided to take him home with him.” He paused. “He was totally loyal to Sandrino, but don’t make the mistake of thinking that he’s lost any of his lethal capabilities. One of his jobs was to act as Sandrino’s bodyguard.”
“Why would you believe I’ve any intention of making that kind of mistake?”
He shook his head. “Because you’re enjoying this a little too much. I really appreciate those flashes of humor, but not when they’re aimed at me.”
Her smile widened. “And that’s when I enjoy it most.”
“And I’ll accept it, because it’s worth it to me. We were on our way toward a peaceful coexistence before you panicked like a deer in headlights. I can understand why, and that’s the reason I’m here baring my soul. But I want that status back. Is it enough for you? If it’s not, then tell me what else I can do.”
Her smile ebbed as she stared at him. His expression was slightly mocking, but this hadn’t been easy for him. She had learned enough about him to realize that he wasn’t given to either explanations or confidences—and he had just given her both with amazing generosity. She should try to be equally generous. “It’s enough,” she said haltingly. “It was that I didn’t know what was going on. I felt…helpless. I hate to feel helpless. I…strike back.”
“I’ve noticed.” A warm smile lit his face. “But now you do know what’s going on. Welcome to my world. If there’s anything else you want to know, just ask me.”
“That would be an intrusion. You’d be right to resent it.”
“Then we could trade information. No intrusion involved.”
“You’d be cheated. You already know everything about me,” she said ruefully. “Thanks to Kaskov.”
“I know the bare bones, and that’s not nearly enough. I had to guess the rest. I want to hear it all from you.”
“Why?”
“How the hell do I know?” he asked with sudden harshness. “Curiosity? I want to have a reason to hate your father and Volkov even more than I do now? Maybe I feel like I have an investment in you like Sandrino did in me? For some reason it matters to me.”
She shook her head. “You’re not making sense.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’ll back off. You’re allowing me closer than I expected. But I’m persistent, and someday I bet you’ll let me take that last step.”
“I don’t know why you’re so curious,” she said wearily. “But I’m beginning to believe that whatever is going on with you, you won’t hurt us. So I’ll not make this any harder than it has to be, Tanner. I want this over as much as you do. And if you think that I can trust Kaskov, I might even give you a chance to turn me over to him.”
His brows rose. “Really?”
“Might,” she repeated. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late. I believe that could actually be trust looming on the horizon.”
“Don’t count on it.” She turned and sat back at the keyboard. “Now go away. I want to play. You’ve taken too much of my time.”
“You’re tossing me away? Do you mind if I stay around and listen? You’re proving to be habit forming.”
She shrugged. “Why should I mind? I won’t know you’re here.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I never know—” She forgot what she was going to say as she met his eyes. Intensity. Heat. Electricity. She couldn’t breathe and her breasts were swelling. The response was totally unexpected. And dammit, she could tell he knew it. She quickly looked away. “No, I don’t mind. Sit down over there on the couch and be quiet.”
She heard him moving behind her to the couch. “I promise you won’t even know I’m here,” he said softly. “The last thing I want to do is disturb you…”
Chapter
8
2:35 A.M.
Lara!”
There was a dim shape in the darkness…
Coming toward her.
“Wake up!” Tanner was sitting her up in bed. “You said you wanted to know everything. I promised you, dammit.” Then the lamp on the bedside table was lit, and Lara was wide awake.
His expression was grim, she thought as she shook her head to clear it. His lips were tight and his light eyes gleaming with ferocity. “What?”
“I got the call from Sherman.” He grabbed her navy bathrobe from the bottom of the bed and draped it around her shoulders over her nightshirt. “The Connecticut airport was hit earlier tonight. It wasn’t good.” He was swearing beneath his breath. “I told him not to fight them, but he wasn’t listening. He and his buddy in the sheriff’s office decided they wanted to take at least one prisoner to interrogate.” He took her wrist and was leading her from the bedroom. “Idiots.”
She had to hurry to keep pace with him. “Where are you taking me?”
“To the library. I need a drink.” He was pulling her down the staircase. “This isn’t going to be easy for me.”
She pulled her arm away from his grasp as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Just tell me. Sherman was hurt?”
“No, but his friend Abner was killed.” He threw open the door and strode past her into the library to the bar against the far wall. “And your father’s men set fire to the remaining aircraft left in the hangars. Everything but the office was burned to the ground, and the only reason that was spared is that they wanted to send a message.” He was pouring himself a whiskey. “Sherman was in the woods trying to stop Abner from bleeding to death or he would have probably been killed, too. They hit hard and fast and were in and out of the airport in forty minutes. After Abner died, Sherman made his way back through the airport to the office to see why they hadn’t touched it.” He handed Lara his phone. “Anton came prepared. You told me he liked cameras. Evidently, he had this photo enlarged and brought it with him. He tacked it on the door of the office.”
She slowly took the phone. She didn’t have to look at it to know what she was going to see.
Maria.
Half naked, her hands bound above her head. Her upper body was crisscrossed with whip marks. The only mark of brutality Lara hadn’t seen before was a gaping red mark that had been drawn across Maria’s throat. One word had been scrawled in Russian beneath the photo. COME.
She vaguely heard Tanner cursing as she blindly thrust the phone back at him. “He did that to her a long time ago.” Her voice was shaking. “I could usually keep it from happening. But he always kept the photos. Sometimes he’d show them to me when he needed to threaten me.” She was talking fast, and her voice was getting hoarser. She could feel the tears sting her eyes. “It usually didn’t take much. It was better than having him touch her. She’d never cry out because she knew how much it hurt me. No matter what—”
“Shut up.” He’d pulled her into his arms and was rocking her. “You’re killing me. I didn’t want to show the damn thing to you, but I’d promised.” He took out his handkerchief and was dabbing at her wet cheeks. “It won’t happen to her. I won’t let it.”
She nodded. “No, it won’t. I’m sorry, I let it all come back to me just as he intended it to.” She took a step back. “It was clever of him. The threat and then the demand that I do what he wants. It’s been ingrained for years. I can’t let him do that to me this time.” She had to stop shaking. She wrapped her arms tightly over her chest. “But I have to be sure that what you’ve told me about her being safe here is the truth. There’s no way they can track us here? I’ll have a little chance to think what’s best for me to do?”
“No way will they find you. I told you, this was Sandrino’s safe house. No one knows about it, and I have you secure. Nothing can happen to you while you’re here.” He was pouring another shot of whiskey into a glass. He took her elbow and half nudged, half pushed her across the library toward the couch. “Now sit down and drink this whiskey.” He pulled her down beside him and put the glass in her hand. “You look like you’re going to shatter any minute. It’s driving me crazy.”
“I don’t drink.”
“You do now.” He watched her take a swallow and then make a face. “Though it doesn’t surprise me. You’re probably afraid to let your guard down.”
“I won’t shatter.” She took another tentative drink and shook her head. “It tastes terrible. Sometimes I had wine when I was in Paris. Everybody drinks wine there. That was much better.”
“But it doesn’t have quite the healing power. And I’m all for healing right now.” He pulled her closer. “Don’t stiffen. Just relax. It’s all part of the therapy. For both of us. I’m not in such good shape myself. I hate like hell seeing you like this. It makes me homicidal and frustrated at the same time. I don’t like feeling that helpless. Let me do something.”
He was doing something. She just didn’t know what it was. How could she relax? She could feel his heartbeat under her ear and the strength he was trying to give her. It felt…good. Some of the shock and pain was going away. She didn’t move for a moment. “You don’t have…to do anything. I know it always has to be me.”
He was swearing beneath his breath again. He pulled her head back to look down into her face. “There you go again. Look, I want to help you. I need to help you. It drives me crazy to know what Volkov and that monster you call a father have done to you and Maria. Okay, maybe I’m not as empathetic as Mallory, but it still bothers me.” His lips twisted. “So you should take advantage of my weakness, because it definitely gives your position additional strength.”
She tilted her head. “Are you pitying me?”
“Would I dare? No, I’m just angry as hell because you weren’t given a fair break. Nothing I hate more than a dirty game.”
“Yes, you’ve told me that.” She stared at him curiously. “But I didn’t think it would upset you this much. Maybe you’re right, perhaps it’s a weakness that I should take advantage of. But I don’t think I can, because no one has ever told me anything like that before. It would feel very strange to use it…” She pushed away from him. “At any rate, I think you’re being kind, so thank you.” She glanced absently down at the glass of whiskey still in her hand. She swallowed the rest of it and then set the glass on the end table beside the couch. “I don’t want Maria to see that photo. We’ll just tell her there was a raid. She doesn’t have to know how close they came tonight.”
