Chapter 4
Pushing aside the nostalgia that engulfed her the minute they entered the department store, she pulled Dane along for a change of roles as they left menswear and headed for the women’s department.
She found a new outfit to replace the rumpled clothes she’d traveled in and then had covered in an airport shirt, she opted for a business suit with a white blouse and elegant pumps.
“Where are you getting the money for this?” he asked.
“We’ll pay cash for yours, but I’ll use my credit card for mine since I’ll be officially in the country as soon as I get to NSWPF headquarters on Liverpool Street.”
Dane nodded and, though his face was neutral, she could tell he didn’t like the plan.
“What’s wrong?”
“No more than the usual healthy paranoia.”
She accepted his statement because it might be true, although she doubted it.
They checked out, then used the men’s and ladies’ restrooms on the second floor to change clothes and keep attention to Dane’s transformation to a minimum.
When he emerged, Dane—the old-man version of him—was leaning against an archway waiting for her.
He didn’t look up when she passed him, but he followed closely, moving to walk next to her as they got to the elevator.
She realized the elevator would be their last chance for privacy for a while and when the doors shut behind them and they began descending, she wasted no time. He was ready for her in spite of the new moustache and the extra bulk as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
He pressed her as close as possible and covered her mouth, roaming his tongue over every part of her lips and mouth inside and out as if he had to claim her, keep her in his memory.
She knew because it was how she herself felt.
The doors opened abruptly and too quickly and they separated, Dane letting her go reluctantly, flashing a last wink at her.
They stepped off the elevators and he walked with her toward the front doors where they’d come in.
Dane held his hat and glasses, but the salt-and-pepper toupee they’d found for him with the matching mustache had made him nearly unrecognizable.
The suit and padding made him look heavier, but they didn’t go overboard because they couldn’t do anything about making his face plumper.
She glanced at him and felt a stabbing tightness in her chest.
Leaving him now was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.
“Don’t quit now, girlie. If anything happens, if you don’t check in with me in two hours, I’ll come for you.
” He’d known what was on her mind, known how’d she felt in spite of her refusal to allow her face to give anything away.
He handed her a phone. They’d gotten two throwaways and he’d programmed the numbers into them so they could call each other with one click.
She took the phone and looked away, aware of their surroundings. No one paid them any attention where they stood just inside the doors.
“Two hours,” he repeated.
“Make it three.”
She saw a rare flash of concern cross his face, bordering on anxiety. She knew whatever he showed didn’t cover a fraction of what he felt.
“I’ll be careful. I’ll call Kevin and have him meet me in the lobby of the police station in front of all the cameras.”
“Maybe that’s not the best idea,” he said.
“Then what?” She’d learned to pay attention to Dane’s intuition. He’d been right about issues large and small and his inexplicable sixth sense had saved her ass more than once in the past couple of years since they’d been partners.
“Maybe you can have him meet you somewhere besides police headquarters.”
Putting on her sunglasses, she nodded. “I’ll play it by ear. See what Kevin thinks. I’ll call his private line.”
Glancing at the door and the street beyond, she knew it was time to go but she felt the hesitation. They were both unsure.
“You ready to treat me like a stranger?” he said.
“Take care of yourself. And my mum.”
He nodded and put on the glasses on hat.
Shana walked outside first, but she felt Dane follow her close behind.
She took a few steps to the right, pulled the phone from her pocket, and then rummaged through her bag to find the card with Kevin’s private number.
Dane stood nearby. People passed by on the sidewalk in front of them from both directions.
There was an awning protecting them from the glaring sun where they stood ignoring each other.
She didn’t look at him directly, but knew he was fiddling with the guide book they’d got for him as a prop.
He carried a bag with a box of chocolates for her mother.
His idea. She smiled, thinking about it.
He’d stowed a few tools of the trade in there and in his pockets, too.
Far more than she’d realized he’d managed to keep with him.
No firearms, but he did have a knife. Before she punched Kevin’s number into the phone, she surveyed the area.
She almost dropped the phone. “It’s Kevin,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear. She schooled her features and went back to fiddling in her bag. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her. “He’s parked thirty feet to the right and leaning against his unmarked car.”
“He’s looking this way. Right at you. He’s heading this way. You need to stop him. Wave or something.”
She looked up and around again and then did an imitation of a double take when she glanced at Kevin, then waved wildly and put up a finger to halt him as she put the phone to her ear like she was taking a call.
“He’s waving me over. I have to go.” She spoke into the phone, but addressed Dane.
“How the hell did Kevin know you were here and why the hell would he be monitoring you?” Dane spoke under his breath.
Thinking fast, she forced her brain to come up with the answers because none leapt to mind.
“He knew I was visiting. That was no secret. I’d planned on getting together with some of my old friends on the force.”
“That doesn’t explain why he’d be tracking you.” Dane sounded like controlled thunder, grumbling in the distance.
“He’s waving again.” She put her finger up again to keep him where he was, but he started walking in her direction.
“I have to go. Don’t worry.” She turned, risking a glance at him and wished she could embrace him, but that would give him away.
As it was she’d be lucky if Kevin didn’t guess who the old man standing idly near her was while she pretended to talk on her phone.
She’d tell him she’d been trying to reach Dane because he’d stayed back in the States.
“I bet the police are aware of Chancy’s threat,” she said, hanging onto the phone, to her contact with Dane. “He’s not known to be a quiet character.”
“That doesn’t square with what Peter said about the threat against police involvement. Why would Chancy raise a red flag and then tell your mother he was after you and to keep the police out or else?”
“I have no idea. But I’m counting on you to protect my mother. And to help me get answers.” She was still speaking into her phone, looking toward Kevin. He’d gone back to his car and leaned against it, waiting for her, watching. She gave a look with a wide smile and small wave in his direction.
“I have to go. Don’t forget—”
“I know.” He cut off her words before she could say she loved him.
He was still squeamish about such admissions.
Except when they were in bed, in a different world, isolated from the world at large in their own bubble.
It was only then that he’d said those words to her, that he was comfortable with abandoning all restraint and giving in to sentiment fully.
It was as if he needed a barrier of some kind between their professional and personal lives, though that had always been tricky for them.
Telling herself she had no choice, she forced herself to walk away from him without looking back.
*****
Dane hung back though it took a mighty force of willpower.
He watched her from behind the glasses and the low-brimmed hat while he flipped through a guidebook as if he was a tourist or a hapless old man from the country.
When she gave Kevin a hug he ignored the stab like a pro.
When she got in the car with him, the stab was harder to ignore.
He memorized the plate. She never looked back at him.
Dane told himself that was a good thing, but it felt pretty damn bad.
Standing rooted, he watched the car pull from the curb, no siren, no rush. The unmarked car pulled into traffic and disappeared.
Shana was gone.
Beyond the disquieting sense of her being out of his orbit, Dane had a bad feeling about this, about leaving her under the control of New South Wales police force, with the rotten-to-the-core insider in league with Chancy Peterson, a notorious mobster and leader of thugs.
If that fact didn’t bother him he would be an idiot.
But there was some kind of vibe he had about Kevin Ivory that he didn’t like.
He couldn’t pinpoint a reason why. Not yet.
For now, he’d chalk up his unease to the fact that there was a corrupt cop involved and Shana was heading into the den of the enemy.
Dane finally turned away and slipped his new throwaway phone from his pocket.
He tapped in the emergency number he had for the governor.
It was the kind of number that hadn’t been programmed or written down anywhere.
It only existed in his memory. And if he used it, Peter would know it was him no matter what phone number he was calling from.
The phone rang twice before Peter answered.
“Dane.”
“Governor.”
“You know better than that. On this phone I’m Peter.”
“You worried about security? Because if you are we’re both in trouble.”
Dane heard the soft chuckle. Then he realized it was probably the middle of the night there. Damn.
“Sorry to call now, but I needed to give you some instructions for Joe.”
“Shoot.”