The other man left and Oscar brought an envelope into Victor’s office. Could the pictures be of some help to Jack? Could she peek at them and find information to put Victor away? The vehicle chase in New York was still fresh in her mind and fingers of fear danced up her spine. The scared little girl inside her, who equated adventure or danger with the death of her parents, refused to take that chance. But the woman remembered Jack’s hands and lips caressing her not too long ago. That woman wanted Jack back in her life for good. She hesitated, scared of what might happen. Was she willing to take the risk?
Waiting until Oscar left, she nudged Jonathan to run into Victor’s office. The little boy, who had been still for the two-hour drive, happily obliged, giggling.
“Jonathan,” she called out softly, more for the benefit of anyone in earshot. She followed him in and closed the door halfway. Keeping her eyes toward the hallway, she moved closer to the desk. The envelope was lying right there. Would she be able to look inside before Victor finished up his meeting?
“Jonathan, why don’t you shovel out Grandpa’s fireplace?” Jonathan loved playing with the little shovel Victor had in a bucket near the fireplace. It was immaculate since it was rarely used. Jonathan wouldn’t get dirty. But he would stay busy while she looked at the pictures.
She picked up the envelope and withdrew the stack of photos. As she flipped through, her heart almost stopped. They were of Jack and her in Central Park when they’d been shot at. Victor couldn’t see these. She looked closer, her hands shaking. You couldn’t tell who she was. The pictures in the park were of her back and she was wearing her hood and Jack’s denim jacket. Good thing whoever had taken them hadn’t gotten there earlier.
Flipping through more, her anxiety escalated and her heart raced like the motorcycle in the picture as they sped through New York. But she had the helmet on.There’s no way he could tell it was me, right?Sighing, she began to put them away, but wait…her sneakers. She’d had on her canvas sneakers with the multi-colored polka dots. The same ones she was wearing right now. Damn.
Could she hide the pictures? Not likely. Oscar knew they’d been delivered and apparently Victor was expecting them. Do something. But what? Her mind whirred and finally she placed the envelope on the desk where it had been before, scooped up Jonathan and put the shovel back in the bucket.
“Come on, sweetie, Mommy needs to get something in the car.”
Jonathan pouted, probably thinking they would be driving again. He didn’t like long rides. “No, sweetie, I simply need to get something. We’ll come back in and see Grandpa in a minute.”
As she hurried through the entryway, Oscar appeared.
“Is everything all right, Miss Lansing?”
“Yeah, I uh… forgot the diaper bag for Jonathan in the car. I’ll be right back.”
She raced outside. Could she climb in the car and drive away? Drive far away and have Jack join her? Victor had contacts almost everywhere and he’d find her. He may not care about her as much but he’d want his grandson. He spoke incessantly about how Jonathan would inherit everything he owned and how he would groom him for that position. She’d die before she let it happen. Luckily, she had a few years.
Opening the car door, she deposited Jonathan next to her on the driveway and dove in. She ripped her sneakers off her feet, shoved them under the seat, and pulled out a pair of worn flip flops. It was all she had. They’d have to do. It was hardly the right footwear for October but if the alternative was having Victor know she and Jack had been together, she’d go with cold toes.
After sliding her feet into the beach wear, she grabbed the diaper bag and took the boy’s hand to walk leisurely back in. Her heart started slowing down as she got closer to the house. The pictures…Victor had something to do with the shooting. But how had he gotten the information? And from whom?
Oscar was waiting for her to open the door and let her reenter. She smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was now wearing different shoes, ones that were inappropriate for the chilly day. How much did he know of what went on? He was loyal, for sure, but did he approve of what Victor did or was he happy to get the large paycheck he most likely got?
“Oh, Callina, dear,” Victor said, as he entered the hallway from his meeting. His assistant was right behind him. Pascucci threw a look at Callie that couldn’t be called friendly then narrowed his eyes at Jonathan. What did the man have against her? He was never rude, but he obviously didn’t like her. Did he know her true opinion of Victor? Doubtful or he’d be telling the mob boss.
Pascucci gave a brief nod then walked away.
“I’m so glad you came down today. And Jonathan, how is my grandson doing?”
Her son jumped up and down chanting, “Hi Dampa. Hi Dampa. Hi Dampa.”
Victor’s eyebrows rose. “Enthusiastic today, aren’t we? Maybe we should find something for you to do to expel some of that energy. Would you like to go to the playroom until dinner, Jonathan?”
The child squealed, “Yup,” and continued to jump up and down.
She took his hand, apologizing. “Sorry, Victor, the long ride, you know. The playroom would be great.”
“Why don’t you head down, my dear, and I’ll follow you in a minute. I have to check on something in my office first.”
She nodded and walked down the hall. The playroom was in the back of the house and she had to admit it was nice of Victor to set the room up. He’d put all sorts of toys and games for a young child to play with. Jonathan loved the little slide and the toddler trampoline in there. Of course it also kept him occupied so Victor wouldn’t have to entertain him. Not that her son would ever be here without her around.
As she walked by the office, she slowed down, peeking in. Victor gazed down intently at the pictures she’d viewed before. And he was scowling. Did he realize it was her? Would he storm out, demanding to know what she was doing with the man who’d killed his son? No, she’d looked hard at the pictures and with the hood and jacket, you couldn’t even tell how big or small she was. Unfortunately, her hips in jeans were a dead giveaway it was a woman.
He put the pictures in his drawer and she scuttled away from the door. As Victor emerged, his brows drew together and his lips tightened as he looked at her and Jonathan who were a small way down the hall.
She made it seem as if they were just coming back. “Jonathan wanted you to see him go down the slide by himself. He ran back here before I could catch him. Are you done with your business?”
Victor nodded and followed them to the back of the house. Sensing his grim mood, she grew nervous. But then she thought of Jack stroking her heated skin, kissing her nipples, and she knew she needed him in her life as much as Jonathan did. Maybe she could do a little snooping herself, disguised as concern, of course.
“Is everything all right, Victor? You seem a little distracted.”
