CHAPTER TWENTY
I find Kane in his home office on the upper level of the house just to the right of our bedroom. He’s standing at a window overlooking the ocean, his back to me, his cellphone at his ear as he talks about oil prices and some rig issue in Texas. He’s dressed in a navy-blue suit, sans the jacket, which tells me he’s been, or plans to go, to the office.
He turns toward his desk and when his eyes find me, they warm. They don’t warm for anyone else. People fear him, even if they’re drawn to him. They’re intimidated by the Kane Mendez. They’re unsure of themselves with him, but I never was. I never will be. I’m on the most stable ground on planet Earth when I’m with this man. And he’s not right now.
I cross the room and lean on the desk.
He ends the call and stares at me with those dark, intelligent eyes of his that seem as if they can read my every thought. “How’s it going?” I ask.
He walks to this side of his solid black desk and leans on it. “I’m not crying in my whiskey, that’s for damn sure,” he says, obviously reading my concern. “It’s me, beautiful. I’m taking care of business in every definable way.”
In other words, he’s dealing with the crash, and who might be responsible, while juggling his empire. How very Kane, indeed. I want to ask him if there are developments I need to know about, but then he’ll ask me the same. And I’m not quite ready to tell him about the chopper ride.
I move to the desk and lean on the edge beside him. He reaches for his glass of whiskey, sips, and offers me a drink. I accept. I’m going to be flying, not driving, and I might need to be drunk for this particular flight.
For a moment, we’re silent, and it’s a comfortable silence. I like that about Kane. He’s a man of only important words. I offer him the glass back. He sets it on the table, and catches my arm, easing me around in front of him. I don’t resist, but I remember a time when I both craved his touch and forbid myself that right. I thought he was trouble, too dark for someone like me, someone fighting her own dark side. But now I know that the only way I survive in this world is by embracing who I am. And no one knows how to do that, while still controlling their dark side, more than Kane. We are two of a kind. And that’s why we work.
“What aren’t you saying, Lilah?” he asks.
He reads me like no one else, but then, I no longer have my guard up with Kane.
My cellphone rings. “There’s something happening,” I say, already reaching into my field bag that’s still at my hip, and grab my phone, glancing at the unknown caller. “I have to take this and then I’ll explain.” I sit down in the chair in front of Kane and answer, “Special Agent Lilah Love.”
“Agent Love,” a woman says. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get to you.”
“Who am I speaking with?” I ask.
“I’m not telling you my name yet, but eventually the police will at least interview me. And I’ll tell them I know nothing.”
“And me? What will you tell me?”
“Everything I know,” she says, “but it can’t be from me. I’ll end up—I don’t know—punished.”
I glance at Kane as I respond. “Punished?”
He arches a brow at that. Yeah, my feelings exactly, I think.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” she says. “And what they will do to serve their own needs. I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you, but then I want out.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Not until I meet you and trust you.”
“You called me. You asked for me. You must trust me.”
“You have skin in this game even though you don’t know you do. You and Kane Mendez. And that’s part of the deal, by the way. If I tell you what you need to know, I want his protection.”
My eyes meet Kane’s. “Kane decides who he protects and who he doesn’t. I don’t.”
Kane’s expression pinches with amusement and he downs his whiskey.
“We both know that’s not true,” the woman argues. “You influence him.”
“If you have something to say about Kane and you want something from him,” I counter, “he’s coming to the meeting.”
“Just you,” she states firmly. “I’ll meet you in Midtown. I’ll call you in two hours. If you’re there, I’ll give you an address.” She hangs up.
Kane is now at the bar in the corner refilling his whiskey. I join him there. He offers me the glass and repeats my words, “Something is going on. And it involves me.”
I set the glass down. “A woman called Chief Houston on a throwaway phone, which you remember is how these people all play that Banking the Billionaire game. She said she knows all three of the victims. She has information to give us on the murders, but will only talk to me. She wanted my number to set-up a meeting for tonight.”
“How did I get involved?”
“She says we’re connected to all of this, that we have skin in the game. And that she’ll only talk if you offer her protection.”
“She knows too much if she wants my protection.”
“Like it or not, you have a reputation. I don’t know if we can assume intimate knowledge of you or your operation.”
“Who is she?”
“She won’t give me a name until I meet her. She doesn’t want to talk to the police. She says she has information I need to solve these murders. Information about us.”
“Where does she want to meet?”
“Midtown in two hours. She’ll call with a proper location at that time.”
His jaw flexes but he says nothing. He walks to the table, downs his whiskey, and grabs his phone. He punches a number and says, “We’re going to the city now, tonight.” He listens a moment and then says, “Don’t call ahead and we’ll need extra security once we get to the city.” He disconnects and turns to me. “Kit and Jay will meet us at the airport.”
“We can drive,” I say. “If we go now—”
“Then you’d have to spend the drive talking to me about the wedding. And committing to plans.”
“We already talked about this. New Year’s Eve with a few friends, nothing more.”
His hands come down on my waist, possessive and snug, as he pulls me closer. “You still want to do it here, by the tree?”
“No. Anywhere but here. I want a break from New York as a whole. You pick.”
“We’ll pick,” he amends. “And what about a dress, beautiful?”
“I have to do my mother proud. Something beautiful.”
The people in the Society have taken from me my mother, and the father I once knew and loved. They almost took Kane. I step back from him, uncomfortable with where I’m going with this, aware that last night is affecting me, but I can’t not say this. And maybe, just maybe, it’s the most logical thing I’ve said in a long time.