Fugitive Heart - By Bonnie Dee Page 0,55

You sit tight.”

He left her alone in the break room. She looked longingly at the coffeepot. The rich coffee aroma almost quelled the stench of old popcorn, and she wished she’d accepted a cup. She was shivering, probably from nerves, and could use a warm brew.

Ames slumped in her chair again and drummed her nervous fingers on the plastic tabletop. What now? For the past few hours, she hadn’t thought beyond getting Nick free of his obligation to the Espositos. Now she had to worry about being drawn into a court case. Maybe Nick would be asked to take a stand against the crime family and end up relocated in witness protection. Would Ames be forced to tell everything she’d learned about her brother? Could she bring herself to betray him? It was far too much to think about right now, when all she wanted was to lie down and snatch a few hours of oblivion.

And Nick? What about Nick? Is our fling over just as quickly as it started? Will he go back to New York? What happens next? She wondered if she’d go after him if he went back east and almost smiled when she realized that, yeah, she might.

“I can’t tell you anything without speaking to a lawyer first,” Nick repeated for what felt like the fortieth time.

They’d let him stew for at least an hour before coming in to talk to him. He’d worried about what they’d do to Ames but then decided she was one of their own. They’d treat her well, at least for the moment. That helped. Instead of growing more agitated with fear, he’d taken the opportunity to grab a quick nap.

Now Bobby Brown, the deputy, not the rapper, stared him down with pigheaded stubbornness. Likely this was the biggest case he’d had in his career as a law enforcement officer. Traffic tickets and public loitering were more his domain. “Cooperate and you’ll get off lighter. Just give me a simple statement.”

“I request a lawyer, please.”

“You’re not under arrest.”

Nick was fairly certain that was only because Brown hadn’t found something he could throw at Nick.

He waited.

Bobby crossed his arms. “Like I said, you don’t need a lawyer.”

Nick gritted his teeth and shifted in his chair. Despite the nap, he was bone-tired and so anxious to see Ames he could hardly think straight. Police involvement was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. Thanks a lot, Jake.

“Look, Officer Brown, I’m not trying to be uncooperative, but it’s been a helluva night. I’m sure it’s been for you too, having to shoot that guy.”

“Who you identified as not being Roberto Esposito. You might as well tell me everything. I’ve already heard most of it from Jake anyway.”

“What did he say?”

Yeah, like Brown was going to volunteer that information. But then the cop surprised him with a grunt. “He had a lot to say. The most interesting thing he told me was that you, Elliot and Ames Jensen are up to your armpits in organized-crime nonsense.”

“She’s not.” Nick’s answer was automatic, though he was stupid to volunteer a single word. It just happened that way when it came to Ames. His response was knee-jerk: protect her. Keep her safe.

He closed his eyes and thought about those last few moments in the house after the gun had gone off outside.

Nick had panicked. He’d swept all the money into the garbage bag and shoved it at Bert. “Go on, leave,” Nick had said. He’d given them fast directions around the woods back to the main road.

“I’m not going without the flash drive,” Bert had said. Phil had raised his gun, pointing it at Nick to show he meant business too.

“Fine, goddamn it.” Nick had told them where to find the rock in the woods where he’d hidden the flash drive. Anything to get them on their way so he could go help Ames.

Bert had paused to look out the window, the garbage bag of money slung over his shoulder. He backed away from the front of the house. “I’ll be in touch.”

“No.” Nick halted his frantic dash to the front door. “We’re done, you and I, Bert. I don’t want to hear from you again.” But his old friend was already out the back door.

And Nick had given up his only leverage with the Espositos in his hurry to get to Ames.

Bobby Brown was talking to him. “Wake up, Rossi. Why don’t you tell me what you know? I dug up your name, so I know you’ve