He studied the small window set into the door. Through the grime, he spotted the alarm wire that ran the length of the glass. Stupidly, he’d underestimated Duke’s security measures, and knew getting inside wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.
For a full minute, he studied the scene, tried to establish the best way to gain entry. To the left of the door, a good eight feet off the ground, a small window with etched glass and two steel security bars snagged his attention. Bathroom, he thought. Or perhaps a bathroom that had been transformed into a storage room. Jack studied the tiny window, wondering if it was wired, wondering how solidly the bars were imbedded into the mortar.
Spotting a metal garbage can a few feet away, he strode to it, dragged it to the window and set it upside down. His injured shoulder twitched uncomfortably as he hauled himself onto the can. Removing the flashlight from his backpack, Jack shone it on to the glass, searched quickly for alarm wires. Relief skittered through him when he found none.
He drew back the hammer, averted his face and shattered the glass in a single stroke.
An alarm shrilled.
Shock jumped through him, followed by a jolt of fear. For an instant, he considered aborting the mission, but knew he wouldn’t get another chance. Blood pounding, he used the hammer to dig away the mortar from the lowest security bar. To his relief, the mortar gave way easily and within a few seconds he pried out the bar and dropped it to the concrete below.
He figured he had less than a minute to get inside, start the fire and get out before the cops showed up. Not giving himself time to debate the insanity of what he was about to do, he cleared away the remaining glass with the hammer, then thrust himself through the window.
Once inside, he jumped to the floor. “Police!” he shouted. “Fire! Get out of the building!”
The ear-splitting alarm continued its deafening cry. Feeling the press of time, Jack sprinted to the main dining room, found it deserted. “Police! Get out of the building!” Turning, he ran through the dining room and into the kitchen, barely noticing the aromas of basil, old grease and the yeasty smell of bread.
In the kitchen he withdrew the lighter fluid from the backpack. Flipping it open he sprayed the stove, the fire-wall, the commercial-size ovens, the refrigerators, then tossed the open can on the floor. He turned to the nearest cooktop and twisted the burner, jumping back as the blue flame engulfed the stovetop. He backed up a step, watched the flame creep down the side of the stove and rush toward the far wall. Satisfied the room would burn, he sprinted back to the dining room. Spotting a phone behind the bar, he picked it up and dialed 9-1-1. He barely heard the dispatcher’s voice over the pounding of his heart.
“There’s a fire at Café DeVille. I suggest you get the fire department here pronto.” Setting the phone on the bar, he sprinted through the dining room and headed for the window.
Chapter 13
L andis’s nerves snapped like hot wires as she watched Jack writhe through the window and drop to the ground. He’d been inside a little over two minutes, but with the alarm screaming and her heart raging like a panicked beast, it felt like an eternity.
Her hand was poised on the shifter when he yanked open the door and slid onto the seat beside her. “Drive!” he shouted.
She hit the gas. The truck jumped forward and streaked down the alley toward the street. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Make a left.”
Barely avoiding a police car with emergency lights flashing, Landis spun the wheel to the left. The truck fishtailed, but she turned into the skid and regained control quickly.
“Nice and easy, Red. Slow down. We’re okay.”
Adrenaline burned like acid in her stomach, and she had to take several deep breaths before she could speak. “Why did the alarm go off? I thought—”
“So did I.” Jack turned in his seat to look out the back window. “Just one of those nasty little surprises that happen when felons act like felons.”
“I think I’m getting carsick.”
Jack looked over at her, grinned. “That’s the adrenaline. Just settle down. You’re doing fine. Take a right here.”
Slowing the truck, she turned the wheel. “Did you get the fire started?” She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the rearview mirror. In a small corner of her mind, she wondered if she would stop or run if she saw flashing lights behind them.
“Yeah, but I didn’t have time to call Duke,” Jack said. “I suspect he’ll be getting a call in the next half hour or so. We’ll find a safe place to watch the mansion and go in the moment he leaves.”
She hated it, but her courage faltered. Oh, good Lord, how did she ever think she could go through with this? “What if he leaves someone behind? I mean, isn’t that a possibility?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Landis glanced over at him. He looked calm, controlled and incredibly handsome as he watched the street, his eyes taking in every dark alley and car they passed. Even through the fear and nerves that had her stomach in knots, she felt the now familiar draw to him. She thought of everything that had transpired between them in the last hours. They’d covered a lot of ground in a very short span of time. Emotional ground that had left her raw and shaken inside—and dangerously close to a man who meant a hell of a lot more to her than she’d ever realized.
“Jack, no matter what happens, I want you to know…this time we’ve had together. It means something to me. More than I ever thought possible.”
Jack shot her a questioning look. “Landis, this probably isn’t the time or the place to talk about this.”
She wasn’t sure why her emotions chose that moment to betray her. Not when she should be thinking about the very dangerous task ahead and all the things that could go wrong. But she was suddenly afraid that this would be their last chance to talk. “I’ve been blind, Jack. And I’m sorry for that. You came back into my life and forced me to see things clearly. About you. About my father.” She looked down, vaguely aware her knuckles were white on the wheel. “About us.”
He looked away, into the night spinning by. The muscles in his jaw worked, and Landis wished she knew what he was thinking. How many times had she wished that in the past two days? How many times had he refused to tell her?
His eyes were dark and somber when they met hers. “Landis, at this point, all I can tell you is that there are some things that are best left unsaid.”
“We may not get another chance to talk,” she said.
He grimaced. “The odds of our pulling this off are pretty slim, but we knew that before we’d decided. You know I won’t go back to prison. If things don’t work out tonight—if I don’t get shot—I’m going to run.” He looked out the window, his jaw clamped tightly. “You know I won’t take you with me.”
The thought of never seeing him again made her feel gut punched. Sick to her soul. Hollowed out. The thought of him spending the rest of his life in prison broke her heart. She knew if she had to choose, she would prefer that he run. Even if she had to live the rest of her life without him, at least he would be free.
“We’ve got to be prepared for the worst,” he said. “If things don’t work out, I want you to get on with your life.”
“But I can help with your case—”
“If I get sent back to prison, I’ll refuse to see you. I won’t put either of us through that.”
She hated the distance in his eyes. She felt as if he were slipping away, even though he was close enough for her to reach out and touch.
“If I get caught, I’m going to tell the cops I forced you to help me. If you’re smart, you’ll corroborate that. Hopefully, it will keep you from being disbarred.”
“I won’t go along with it.”
“If we get busted tonight all I want from you is for you to forget we were ever lovers. If you want to help, send a good criminal lawyer my way.”
“You’re innocent—”
“I’m in deep trouble! I??
?m piling up new charges with everything I do. And if you don’t start using your head, I’m going to drag you down with me. Are you getting that?”
The road in front of her blurred. Hot tears burned behind her eyes. She tried to blink them away but her emotions were boiling. The truth of what she felt in her heart stunned her, shook her from the inside out.
“Pull over,” he said.
She barely heard him over the drum of her pulse. She felt a sob building in her throat. The tears blinded her, scalded her cheeks, reminding her that she was not in control. Not of the situation. Not of the man sitting next to her. Not of the emotions shredding her heart. “I won’t let you go to prison for something you didn’t do. I won’t let—”
“Pull the damn truck over.”
Blinking furiously, Landis turned on to a quiet side street. It was stupid, but she felt like a failure. She was such an emotional wreck, she couldn’t even drive. “I suppose you want to drive,” she said.
Jack leaned over and turned off the ignition. Wordlessly, he reached around her and punched off the headlights. She reached for the latch to get out of the truck. He grasped her upper arm and pulled her to him. “Shut up, Red,” he murmured.
His strong arms wrapped around her. Then Landis felt his hands in her hair. His breath against her ear as he whispered her name. The warmth of his body as he held her tightly against him. “I just want to hold you a moment,” he whispered.
Her mouth sought his. Desperation tangled with something deeper and burned through her with an urgency that made her feel wild and out of control. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Shhh,” he said. “Don’t say it.”
“I have to. I need to say this. Because it’s there. In my heart. I love you. Oh, God, Jack, I’ve always loved you. All those months we were apart…” Only then did she realize that she was crying. She kissed him openmouthed, tasting tears and anguish and a mutual hunger that would never be sated. Heat engulfed her as his hands found her breasts. She moaned when he molded her flesh, brushed his fingertips over the sensitized tips.
Forgetting the dangers they faced in the coming hours, shutting out everything except the moment between them, Landis traced her fingers over his face, his neck, the corded muscles of his shoulders. Her hands shook as she fought with the buttons of his shirt. A tremor rippled through him as her hands drifted over his chest. She marveled at the feel of his flesh, the male hair, the hard-as-rock muscle.
He moaned and whispered something wicked in her ear. Words that thrilled her, filled her with anticipation, expectation. And hope.
Tilting her head, he kissed her long and hard, without the finesse he’d shown her when they’d made love. It was a reckless kiss, laced with urgency and hunger. And she wondered if he were somehow branding her, marking her as his.
As quickly as his mouth had assailed hers, he released her. Growling low in his throat, he moved away, his eyes on the darkness beyond the windshield. “That wasn’t a very good idea.”
“No, but I…needed to get that off my chest.”
He cut her a hard look.
Even with her senses vibrating with the remnants of his kiss, it hurt that he hadn’t told her he loved her. She knew he wouldn’t now, and her heart broke with the knowledge. As impossible as it was for her not to hurt, she knew it would only make things more difficult if he had. Still, she hated it.
“Drive,” he said.
Refusing to let herself consider all the variables of what they were about to do, she put the truck in gear and pulled onto the street.
The Duke estate was nestled behind a high stone wall and an ornate wrought-iron gate in one of Salt Lake City’s most prestigious neighborhoods. Parked on a quiet side street one block away, Jack and Landis watched two gleaming white limousines glide through the gate and head toward the downtown area.
“He got the call.”
Landis jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice. She was so scared she could taste fear at the back of her throat, all coppery and thick. “Looks like he has quite an entourage.”
“We have to assume there are people inside.”
“Sleeping people hopefully.”
His eyes met hers for an instant, then without speaking he reached for the door latch and got out of the truck. She did the same, and stepped into the cold night air, refusing to acknowledge that her knees were shaking.
“Follow me.” Sticking to the shadows cast by the trees along the street, Jack took the sidewalk to the front gate of the mansion.
“How do we get inside?” she asked, breaths puffing out in front of her.
“We go over the gate.”
Trepidation shot through her as she took in the evil-looking spears twelve feet up. “Piece of cake if you don’t mind getting skewered.”
Jack glanced toward the rear of the estate. “Let’s see if the rear gate is any less deadly.”
Landis wasn’t sure whether she was relieved that she hadn’t had to clamber over the gate or annoyed that he didn’t think she was capable. “No argument here.”
“There’s a first.”
Pleasure rippled through her when he took her hand. Even through her gloves, she could feel his warmth and it was incredibly reassuring.
They jogged to the rear of the estate where the servants’ entrance was located. The gate was smaller and not nearly as ornate. No spears, Landis noted with a vast sense of relief.
“Not many lights on in the house,” Jack said. “Even so, getting inside is going to be tricky.”
Landis’s nerves jumped at the statement, but instead of letting the fear get the best of her, she stepped up to the gate. “Give me a leg up, will you?”
Interlocking his fingers, he formed a stirrup of sorts with his hands. “Put your foot in my hands. I’ll lift you. All you have to do is pull yourself up, then swing your leg over the top. Do it quickly. Don’t make any noise. Starting now, we move quickly. Okay?”
Pulse racing, she put her foot in his clasped hands. He lifted her with amazing ease. Once she was chest level with the top of the gate, she swung her leg over the bar until she was sitting precariously on the rail.
“Jump,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”
Landis closed her eyes and slid off the fence. She landed hard enough to jar her teeth, but managed to stay on her feet. She looked up to see Jack come over the gate with the agility of a panther. He landed with a quiet thud a few feet away, his knees bending to absorb the impact.
“Not bad for a lawyer,” he said.
“My ankles aren’t broken. I think that’s a good sign at this point.” She glanced toward the house thirty yards away. It looked ominous cloaked by cold and shadowed by the night. “You’re good at this.”
“I’m just getting warmed up.” He took her hand and hauled her into an easy jog toward the house. “Follow me. Stay close. Don’t say anything. Don’t make any noise. Got it?”
Landis nodded and tried not to think about what would happen if someone inside saw them crossing the lawn.
The Tudor-style mansion was constructed of stone and stucco. A sweeping circular drive led to a four-car garage on her right. To her left, an Olympic-size swimming pool replete with a cabana and stone diving platform monopolized the backyard. They followed a narrow flagstone path to the patio. Using the shadows for cover, Jack led her along a manicured hedge, between two wrought-iron tables to a set of French doors at the back of the house. Yellow light flickered from an overhead gas lamp. It didn’t give off much light, but Landis felt exposed nonetheless. If someone were to look out the window…
“Stay here.” Jack strode to the dual French doors, knelt, ran his hand along the seam.
Landis watched, fascinated by his surety and physical grace. He moved to the second door. Cupping his hands, he peered inside. “There’s an alarm,” he whispered.
“Can you disarm it?”
“I don’t know.” He rose, followed the trail of the wire with his hand. “I’m going to cut the phone lines.??
?
“You mean if the alarm dials out automatically to the police?”
“Or to Duke.”
She swallowed, not wanting to imagine such a scenario. “What if it’s wireless, or something?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to do this the best way I know how.”
“Why can’t anything be easy?”
“I’m sure that’s a questions all felons ask themselves.”
“We’re not felons, Jack. Not really. We’re the good guys.”
For the first time, he paused, turned to look at her over his shoulder. A smile tugged at his mouth. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Landis watched him jog to the end of the house, then around to the side. She wasn’t cold but at some point she’d begun to shake. Her hands. Her knees. Her legs. One minute dragged into two. Two into five. By the time he returned, her teeth were chattering.
He gave her a thumbs-up. “I took out the phone line.”
“I got gray hair while I was waiting. How do we get in?”
Without speaking, he strode to the French door. Landis trailed him and watched, fascinated, as he pulled duct tape from his backpack. He quickly tore off three long strips and placed them vertically over the pane nearest the lock.
A renewed wave of uneasiness washed over her when he reached for the hammer. “When I open the door,” he began, “I want you to go inside and look for the alarm system panel. It’ll probably be set into the wall, or hidden in a utility or laundry area nearby. Since we’re at the rear of the house where the servants work, it shouldn’t be too hard to find. I’ll go left—you go right. We’ve got about forty-five seconds to find it or all hell’s going to break loose. Are you ready?”
A lump of fear rose in her chest. “We don’t know the code.”
“Pete Boyle told me.”
A laugh escaped her, but the sound was fraught with tension. “What if it’s been changed since then?”
“We improvise.” His jaw flexed. “Come here.”
When she didn’t move, he grasped her hand and pulled her to him. Landis wasn’t expecting him to kiss her. Not at a time like this. But he did. It was a hard, sexless kiss that touched her more deeply than it should have. When he pulled back, she saw the reckless light in his eyes, felt something quiver in her chest. “What was that for?”