Page 19 of Fast Track


  Aiden knocked on her door to announce that he had ordered dinner and asked her to come out to the table.

  “I really can take care of myself,” she told him as he pulled the chair out for her and put the napkin in her lap.

  “Yes, you mentioned that a couple of times earlier today.” He lifted the silver plate cover to reveal filet mignon, asparagus, and baby red potatoes.

  She stared at the mouthwatering steak for several seconds, then said, “You did that on purpose.”

  “Did what?” he asked innocently.

  He knew she couldn’t cut the steak, and that was why he’d ordered it, to prove to her she wasn’t self-reliant just yet. He took the steak knife and fork and cut the meat into bite-size pieces.

  “Want me to feed you?” There was laughter in his voice.

  “That’s not necessary,” she grumbled as she picked up the fork with her free hand.

  He sat across from her and uncovered the same meal on his plate. She was surprised he was having dinner with her because she knew he usually went out every evening, sometimes for business, sometimes for pleasure.

  “Shall we have an argument-free dinner?” he proposed.

  “We don’t argue. I simply express my opinion, and you ignore it.”

  “So that’s a no,” he said dryly.

  “We won’t argue,” she promised. And to prove it she thanked him for dinner.

  He took a bite of steak and said, “This is good.”

  She agreed. It was delicious. “Tell me about the congressman making you crazy.”

  “Not much to tell, and it’s Walker making me crazy.” He then explained what had happened with Rock Point. “Spencer had worked hard on the deal, and the resort would bring that community back to life, but the congressman got greedy and demanded more money.”

  “He agreed to one price, then changed his mind.”

  Aiden nodded. He wasn’t used to talking about his frustrations with anyone, and it felt good to get it all out. “The guy’s a jerk,” he said. “Know what he said? Giving his word and shaking my hand didn’t mean anything. He hadn’t signed anything, so it wasn’t a done deal.”

  “How did Walker get involved, and why did he negotiate with the congressman?”

  Aiden shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him yet. I thought I’d get over my anger first, but that’s not happening.”

  “When is Armageddon?”

  The question made him laugh, and his mood was suddenly lightened. “Tomorrow.”

  He then talked about the Houston property and the difficulty getting permits for the expansion. She couldn’t imagine how he kept everything straight in his head. She would have trouble remembering how many hotels there were. Not Aiden. He oversaw every phase, from breaking ground to the grand opening, and he could rattle off numbers faster than a computer.

  “How do you stay so organized?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a lot of good people I can rely on to get the job done, and Spencer does as much as I do. We split the work,” he explained. “He’s just more laid-back about it.”

  She thought about what he had just said and decided she might have unjustly judged Walker as a giant liability and a man who refused responsibility. His older brothers had taken over the running of the business, and he had very little to say about it. Maybe Walker had more to offer than they realized.

  “The four of you have an equal vote,” Cordie said. “Isn’t that right? Even though Regan runs the charity foundation, she still has a vote on any new development.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And so does Walker?”

  “Of course.”

  “What happens if Walker and Regan vote against you and Spencer?”

  He shrugged. “I figure out a way to get what I want.”

  She laughed. “You’re arrogant.”

  “Yes.”

  No apology came with the acknowledgment, but then she didn’t expect he would view arrogance as a flaw. Aiden Madison was the ultimate alpha, and she, supposedly a liberated female, shouldn’t be attracted to him. Should she?

  “I’ve got to get some work done tonight,” he told her.

  “Are you going down to your office?”

  “No, I’ll work on my laptop here.”

  She pushed her chair back and stood. “I won’t bother you. I should answer my e-mails. That will take forever.” She hoped that when her fingers weren’t so swollen she would be able to type, but for now she had to use the one-finger technique. Thank goodness Regan had brought over some of her electronics. Cordie would be lost without her laptop and her cell phone charger.

  She went into the bedroom for her computer, then returned to the living room to find her phone so she could charge it. After a futile search, she picked up the hotel phone and called her cell. Following the ring, she located the phone under a chair. How had it gotten there?

  Aiden leaned against the bar watching her. The living room was beginning to look as though it had been ransacked. The cushions on the sofas were askew; the coffee table was cluttered with Cordie’s laptop, iPad, earbuds, and chargers. One of her robes was draped over a chair, and her e-reader was on the seat. She hadn’t even been in the suite all that long. What would the room look like in a week? She needed to get organized, he decided.

  “Do you know how much time you waste looking for things you’ve misplaced?”

  Cordie was untangling her charger cord from the laptop. She straightened and asked, “Excuse me?”

  He repeated his question.

  “No, Aiden, I don’t know how much time I waste looking for things. At home I have a place for my things. Here, I don’t.”

  He couldn’t argue with her because his phone rang. “It’s Alec,” he told her.

  She waited impatiently for Aiden to finish his conversation and tell her what Alec wanted.

  “He’s coming over with the video,” he explained.

  “Why didn’t he just e-mail it to us?”

  “He wants to talk to you.”

  “What else did he say?” She leaned against the arm of the sofa. She didn’t want to sit, afraid she wouldn’t be able to get up. With all the bumps and bruises, by the end of the day moving was exhausting.

  “He said it’s official now. Sean and Jayden were on the mark. Someone deliberately pushed you into the path of that car.”

  She was astounded and outraged. “So it’s for real. Now there’s proof. Oh my God. Someone actually tried to kill me. I could have died.”

  He was surprised by her reaction. “We already knew you were pushed. This is confirmation.”

  “You’re awful relaxed about it.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He still sounded too calm to her. “I can’t believe it. I should have paid attention. I slacked off. All week I’ve been looking behind me every time I thought someone was following me, and the minute I let my guard down, boom. I almost get killed.”

  Jaw clenched, he said her name in a warning tone. “Cordelia, you thought someone was following you?”

  “Yes, and apparently I let him sneak right up behind me. I can’t believe it. Do you know who’s behind this? Because I do.”

  Aiden wanted to shout at her for not telling him sooner. He decided to wait for Alec to get the entire story out of her. Then he would get to yell.

  “It’s Simone,” she announced unequivocally. “She’s trying to dispose of me just like she did with her marriage to my father. That freak of a family in Australia won’t know what hit them when I . . .”

  She stopped ranting as soon as Aiden took her into his arms. “You know what this means, Cordelia?”

  “What?”

  He kissed her forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  TWENTY

  He decided to wait until the agreed-on tim
e to call Sydney. He wanted to downplay the incident, and for that reason he didn’t make an emergency call.

  “Anything to report?”

  “Yes,” he said. “As instructed, I’ve continued to follow and observe the woman. I didn’t find anything in her house that would connect you.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ve been looking for the best time to dispose of the problem.”

  “Those were your instructions.”

  He cleared his throat. “An opportunity presented itself on a crowded street, and I made the decision to go ahead.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I pushed the woman into heavy traffic.”

  “With witnesses? You said a crowded street. People saw you?”

  “No, no one saw what I did,” he rushed.

  “But something did go wrong. I hear it in your voice.”

  “The woman survived. She had injuries, but she will recover.”

  “You idiot! What made you think that would work? I sent you there to take care of this problem and you failed.”

  He stammered, “Yes . . . yes . . . I realize I should have found a better way by now. The police believe it was an accident. She should have died, but the car was slowing down . . . I just acted on the spur of the moment because I saw an opportunity . . .” He realized he was making excuses.

  “This should have been done already.”

  “I know. I did fail, but it won’t happen again.”

  “It better not. No more waiting. You finish it.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Cordie watched the video at the table with Aiden beside her. Alec had gone to the bar to get a beer before he took a chair across from them.

  “I really did bounce.” She winced.

  “See what you did there?” Aiden replayed the seconds before impact. “It looks like you tried to jump up, like a pole-vaulter, onto the hood of the car. That was smart.”

  “Are you seriously trying to put a positive spin on this?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I think it looks like I tried to stop the car with my left arm.”

  “The blinkers were on,” Alec commented. “It’s a good thing the car was slowing down, or you could have been in much worse shape.”

  Cordie knew they were trying to be reassuring, but their attempts to make her see the glass as half full were not working. She backed up the video and watched it again. She saw herself step up to the edge of the curb and the crowd gather around her. Everyone was facing forward, and suddenly their heads turned. Apparently this was the point at which the truck backfired. Within a fraction of a second, Cordie lurched into the path of the oncoming car. When she played the video again, she concentrated on the people behind her. Everyone was crammed together so closely, it was impossible to see faces. She backed up the image once more and watched the pedestrians heading to the corner. There was only one suspicious-looking character. He wore a baseball cap down low over his brow, and he never looked up so the traffic cam could catch his face. He seemed to disappear in the throng. She let the video continue to play. After the crash, some people ran to help her; some stood watching in shock; and others who wondered what was happening walked into the camera’s view. The commotion lasted a couple of minutes before a few onlookers began to drift away. She looked closely as they dispersed and saw the baseball cap disappearing among them.

  Alec and Aiden played the video at least twenty times more, looking at individuals but concentrating on the man in the cap and finally concluding they saw nothing that would identify an assailant.

  “That’s enough,” she said. “I can’t watch this again. I don’t recognize anyone.”

  “Why don’t you tell Alec how you let him sneak up on you,” Aiden suggested.

  “What are you talking about?” Alec asked.

  “All week long I’ve had this weird feeling that someone was following me.”

  Alec didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. He took a long swig of beer. “All week long, huh?”

  She nodded. From the look in his eyes, she could tell he was about to get testy.

  “Do you want to tell me why you think someone was following you? And then maybe you could explain why you didn’t tell me about it.”

  “It was just a feeling,” she said, trying to defend herself. “I didn’t have any proof, and every time I got that feeling and tuned around or looked in a mirror, there was never anyone there.”

  Aiden felt like banging his head against the wall. “For God’s sake, Cordelia, the whole point would be to avoid being seen if he was any good at his job, and apparently he was.”

  “You needn’t snap at me. I was going to mention it.”

  “Start mentioning it now,” Alec said. “When did you first suspect someone was watching you?”

  She went through her week, telling him about the art gallery, the parking garage, and the cemetery. When she was finished, all he said was, “Okay. Is there anything else you want to mention?”

  Cordie couldn’t tell if Alec was irritated with her now or not. Turning to Aiden, she asked, “What time is it in Sydney?”

  He didn’t have to think before he answered. “It’s after nine here, so it’s after twelve noon there. Why?”

  “I want to call Liam.”

  “I’ve been talking to him,” Alec said. “He’s looking into a couple of things and will call me back.”

  What couple of things? Before she could ask, he said, “I’ll let you know. You have to be patient, Cordie.”

  That was easier said than done. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how. It was frustrating, and fatigue was taking a toll. At least she didn’t have to worry about getting dark circles under her eyes. The bruises would hide them.

  “I hate being helpless,” she admitted.

  Aiden actually looked sympathetic. “I know, but you have to let us handle this for now. You’ve suffered quite a trauma.”

  The aches and pains she was feeling at the moment told her he was right.

  “Regan and I have a favor to ask,” Alec said. His demeanor had changed. He was no longer the professional and serious FBI agent, but her friend.

  “What is it?”

  “The attorneys still haven’t gotten the papers ready to sign on the house.”

  “Would you like me to call them?”

  He shook his head. “No, they promised they’ll get it done. But Regan and I were hoping you wouldn’t mind if we moved some of our things into the house now.”

  “No, of course I don’t mind. Didn’t Regan want to change the paint color in most of the rooms before you moved?”

  “Just two rooms, and the painters will be there tomorrow . . . if that’s okay.”

  “Yes, it’s okay. Go ahead and do whatever you want to do.”

  Alec left a few minutes later. Aiden walked him to the door, and the two of them stood there talking for several minutes in low tones. They both glanced at her a couple of times, and she knew they were talking about her. She also knew neither one of them would tell her what they were saying, though she was relatively sure it had something to do with keeping her in the hotel.

  Alec had e-mailed the video to her before he left. She opened it on her laptop and watched it again. “This video is going to stay in my head for a long time,” she told Aiden when he returned to her.

  “Maybe if you stopped watching it . . .”

  He had a point. “Okay.”

  “Try to think about something else.”

  “What a brilliant idea. I never would have thought to do that.”

  “Glad I could help,” he replied, totally unfazed by her sarcasm.

  He walked back to the table with his laptop and sat down to check a file. Several minutes passed in silence. He was so engrossed in his work, Cordie went into her bedroom and sat on the be
d while she pondered what she could do to speed the investigation along. She walked back into the living room. “Aiden, I was wondering . . . ,” she began sweetly.

  “What?” Abrupt as always.

  “When are you going back to Sydney?”

  He stopped typing and looked at her. “Why?”

  “I’d like to go with you.”

  He gave her what she could interpret only as the are-you-crazy look. “No.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to hear why I want to go with you?”

  “No.”

  “I’m telling you anyway.”

  He sat back. “I thought you might.”

  “I want to knock on Simone Rayburn’s door, and I’m going to make her admit she sent someone to get rid of me. Then I think I just might do what Jayden suggested.”

  It was difficult for Aiden not to smile. Cordie was really getting worked up. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Run her over. I might even take out the whole family.”

  “Cordelia, you’re not going to Sydney.”

  She stopped arguing. It felt good to rant for a minute or two about Simone and get rid of some of her anger, but she realized in the end she did need to be patient. Liam was investigating, and maybe soon he would get the proof needed to arrest Simone and the man or men she sent to Chicago. There was absolutely no question in her mind that it could be anyone else.

  “I’ll be leaving for an appointment in a few minutes,” Aiden announced. He closed his laptop and took it into his bedroom. When he returned, he was putting on his sport coat.

  He didn’t tell her where he was going or when he would be back, and she didn’t ask. If he wanted her to know, he would have taken the time to explain—which would have been the polite thing to do. He would rather be rude, however. Should she mention that it was already after ten? No, of course she shouldn’t. Teachers went to bed at ten on school nights—at least she did when she was teaching—but millionaire CEOs could stay out all night partying if they wanted. They didn’t have to do things like control teenage boys with raging hormones the next morning.