Fugitive Heart - By Bonnie Dee Page 0,39
went after money in New York and made some dangerous people angry.”
“I know. Like this guy.” Jake’s broad face creased in worry. Better that than anger. “I should have known you were in trouble, Ames. I could tell you were upset. I’m sorry I didn’t call the police before.”
“No, Nick isn’t one of the bad guys.” And why are you so certain of this? Because you like him and because he turns you on like nobody else? Not exactly an explanation she could offer Jake or even herself.
Jake scowled. “Nick? I thought his name is Sam.”
Oops. “Whatever his name is, he’s going to help me and Elliot.”
“Help himself, more like it.” But he lowered the bat.
Nick tucked the gun away. “Yeah, that’s true, but what I’m doing is best for Elliot too.” He nodded at the slightly greasy package Ames still clutched tight against her chest. “We need to find out what that is. If it belongs to the people Elliot pissed off, we have to give it back.”
“What’ll stop them from going after him then? He said this was leverage. I don’t trust you New Yorkers.”
“It may shock you to learn that killing people isn’t the first response most New Yorkers use to solve problems.”
“Ha-ha, funny guy.” Jake shifted from foot to foot and moved closer to Ames.
“Watch it,” Nick warned behind him.
“Watch yourself, jerk,” he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you really trust him, Ames?” His hot breath on her ear smelled of beer and toothpaste.
She nodded. Jake’s shoulders slumped a bit, and Ames felt her own relax in response.
He straightened and looked around the room. “Okay.”
“Okay what?” Ames touched his arm briefly.
“Elliot didn’t say much, but he kinda said that the guys…um, these guys aren’t like most people.”
“He’s right. The one advantage I have is that I know them.” Nick sounded calm too. “That means I can guess what they’ll do and maybe I can even talk to them. And I hope that’s enough. Maybe it’ll be enough.” Nick raised his hands in a conciliatory, palms-out gesture. “Let’s take a look and see what Elliot left behind.”
He nodded at Ames, and she put the package on the hood of the car. Jake and Nick stood on either side, as if getting too close to the package or each other could reheat the tension. She was fine with that.
She finished slitting the tape on the garbage bag. Even before she’d unwrapped it, she smelled something expensive—leather and the slightly sweet scent of money.
“Wow,” breathed Jake.
She unwrapped stacks of bills, and on top of them lay a leather-bound book and a flash drive. “That has to be thousands of dollars,” Jake said. “Holy shit.”
Nick reached over and picked up a stack. He flipped through. “Nonsequential. He must have taken the rest with him. He couldn’t carry all this.”
Ames sighed. “Maybe he’s like a squirrel. Burying bits of his treasure all over the place so that if he loses some of it, he can go back and get the rest.”
“He knew I’d keep his important stuff safe.” Jake sounded proud.
“Except it’s not really his.”
Nick gingerly picked up the leather-bound book with his fingertips and flipped it open. He recognized it right away. “Yup. Here’s the information you don’t put on a computer. All here.” Except the page he’d left at Nick’s house.
Ames came close and peered over his shoulder at the careful block letters, some printed in ink, others in pencil. He wanted to put the thing down and grab her instead. Maybe if he held her, that grim, ugly feeling would pass.
She pointed at a series of letters and numbers. “It’s nonsense.”
“Code. Nothing too difficult, because we’re not talking geniuses here.” He ran a finger above the list. “Simple substitution.”
“What is it?”
“My guess? Contacts, real sources of income, lists of actual income. They have to hide from the law and from the IRS. But they have to know what’s coming in and from where. Monthly accounts. Your brother is a real moron.”
“You said that already.” Jake picked up a little plastic object. “What’s this?”
“Flash drive.” Nick held out his hand. If Jake gave him any more shit, he’d tie him up and put him in the trunk of the rental car—for his own good. He did not need any crap tonight.
Luckily Jake had read his ugly mood and dropped the drive onto Nick’s palm. He jerked a thumb at the door. “Maybe we should go inside. I got a computer.”
“No. We don’t have time. We need