Chapter 15 #2
“Thank you, Daniel.” She was more than ready for the escape. “That’ll be all tonight.”
“Ms. Baxter.”
Annette recognized that tone all too well. Another problem. She sighed. Would this day never end? “Yes?”
“You have a private call.” He pulled the untraceable cell she reserved for personal communications from his jacket pocket.
Her heart bumped her sternum as she accepted the phone. She didn’t have to ask who it would be. She knew. And it would not be good news. “Thank you, Daniel.”
When he left her alone, she pressed the necessary button to take the call off hold. “This is Annette.”
The hospital.
She listened to the doctor’s report, her heart sinking a little more with each word.
“I understand. Thank you.” Annette severed the connection and placed the phone on the counter. She closed her eyes and searched for that calm place that had eluded her for days now.
Nothing scared her . . . but this.
Her sister, Paula, had suffered another episode. This one worse than the last. If the outbursts continued, there would be no choice but to isolate her.
The worst possible scenario. Annette remembered all too well the locked rooms . . . and that basement. She shuddered. She couldn’t let that happen.
For years her sister had been fine and now, suddenly, everything was spiraling downhill.
Whatever happened, Paula’s well-being was her primary concern.
The problem was . . . if everything else fell apart, then Annette couldn’t properly take care of her sister.
Filling her lungs with a deep, bolstering breath, Annette opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. She was strong. She could do this.
She had to do this.
Tomorrow she would accomplish more. She dropped her leopard-print bra on the tiled floor, then shimmied out of her panties.
The bruises from her interlude with Carson Tanner lured her attention to her naked body.
She touched the one on her hip. A frisson of heat lit deep inside her.
Startled her. Ridiculous. Tanner roused her curiosity, nothing more.
Sex was never enjoyable for her. Never had been and it was highly unlikely it ever would be. Not with her screwed-up history.
What would Carson Tanner think of his precious manhood if he knew she had faked every single orgasm she had supposedly had in her life? Not even he had managed to bring her to that prized place. He had, however, managed to stir a smattering of interest. Most unexpected.
That wasn’t supposed to have happened.
Watching him exit the grounds of the revered Federal Bureau of Investigation offices today had been a ploy designed to make him wonder, to make him doubt.
To trouble that fiercely analytical mind of his.
What she’d succeeded in doing was making herself wonder .
. . how would it feel to have a man like that care about her?
All that shiny integrity. Ambition . . . and heart.
Utterly ridiculous. She didn’t need a man. Annette Baxter needed no one. Except her sweet, sweet sister.
Stepping gingerly into the deep, hot water, Annette reminded herself that she didn’t have sex with men for pleasure.
She rarely had sex at all, and then only to accomplish a goal unattainable by any other means.
As she had with Carson Tanner. However noble, in the end he was no different from all the others.
Closing her eyes, she blocked the deluge of memories that attempted to flood her.
Don’t go back there.
She reclined in her tub and allowed the liquid warmth to envelop her. Reaching for her glass, she considered that she could take her money and disappear. There was more than enough to live on quite comfortably for some time.
But she had other obligations from which she could not so easily walk away. That would not be so readily transitioned. Her sister. There was no quick fix there.
Panic tightened her throat.
Everything Annette did, had ever done, was for one reason. She could not fail now. She had to hold her ground.
A new surge of determination fortified her. Oh, yes, she would do whatever was necessary. She would not lose. She drank deeply of her martini, relished the instant warmth that settled deep inside her.
Annette had been repairing situations for nearly a decade. There wasn’t anyone in enough trouble or an act so horrendous that she couldn’t turn it around.
She would not . . . could not fail the only person in this world who meant anything to her . . . her sister.
“I’m sorry to trouble you again.”
Annette started at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He waited at the door. Why hadn’t he gone home already?
“What?” She hadn’t meant to snap, but she was so tired. Talking, thinking, none of that appealed to her. She needed quiet . . . and maybe a second martini.
“I just heard,” he said, regret lining his face, “Jazel Ramirez was killed in a car crash today.”
Jazel? How could that be? Annette had rendezvoused with her little more than two hours ago. She’d used Jazel’s red Mustang to give the feds the slip and to annoy Carson Tanner. Jazel had been fine when Annette had retrieved her Lexus . . .
She reached for the calm that had deserted her, pushing aside the emotions that would have to wait. “When did this happen?”
“Shortly after five this evening,” Daniel explained gently. “The accident is under investigation. According to our favorite reporter, Nadine Goodman, foul play is suspected considering the condition of Jazel’s Mustang.”
The dark sedan Annette had noticed in her rearview mirror more than once today tugged at her instincts. What color had it been? Navy? Black? Black, she was pretty sure.
An ache pierced her.
Was this merely a warning? Or was she to be terminated in the fullest sense of the word?
“Thank you, Daniel,” she said, her voice lacking its usual resolve.
Annette summoned her courage. No weakness.
No fear. “Thank Nadine for me, too,” she said with considerably more potency.
“Let me know if you hear anything else.” She fought a second onslaught of emotion.
“Also, see that Jazel’s family has anything they need. ”
“Of course, Ms. Baxter.” Her faithful assistant hesitated before leaving her.
“Is there something else, Daniel?” She needed to be alone. To grieve . . . to regenerate her weary soul.
“You didn’t mention putting Mr. Tanner on your calendar for tomorrow.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “Does that mean you accomplished your goal during your last meeting?”
Confused and too damned tired to discuss anything at this point, Annette was vaguely aware of shaking her head.
“I’m not sure about that yet . . .” She searched Daniel’s face, trying without success to decipher what was on his mind.
“Is there something on my calendar I’ve forgotten?
” Generally her assistant didn’t question her intentions; he simply juggled her appointments and took care of her personal needs.
Admittedly, she’d been stressed of late. Perhaps he was merely concerned.
She was concerned.
“You have a meeting with Commissioner Schmale regarding the Festive Fundraiser at ten. Then a two o’clock with Lois Campbell to discuss the October Art Friends auction.”
Both those meetings had been scheduled for a while. She had nothing else to add. Nothing Daniel or anyone else needed to know about anyway. “Very well. Thank you, Daniel.”
Her assistant left her alone once more.
The steamy water felt abruptly cold. Annette shivered.
If they had decided to get her out of the way in a more timely manner . . . that could only mean one thing . . .
. . . they would want Carson Tanner out of the way as well.