Ring of Truth (Devlin Security Force Book 2) (21 page)

Su Lin clasped her hand and placed it against her cheek. She murmured soothing words in Korean, words Mara had heard when she’d skinned a knee or lost a tennis match. “Whatever made you think that?”

“You argued all the time. You never agreed.” Bringing up Cassie’s birth seven months after the wedding didn’t seem like a good idea. Nor did what Cassie’d overheard. She blew her nose into the tissue her mother handed her. “Why did you marry him?”

“Look around you, Mara. This is where your father found me. Waiting tables and hostessing. I came from a small town in Korea with no money, no education, and no hope of escaping poverty. Your father was handsome, a rich American who wanted me.”

For security, not for passion. “He had to know you were unhappy.”

“I was not unhappy. Your father loved me. He was good to me and to you girls. He loved us all. Yes, we disagreed about a lot of things, but we always enjoyed making up.” Pink tinged her high cheekbones at this confession.

Mara held up a hand. “Enough, Mom. T.M.I.”

The mood lighter, they laughed together.

“He was a good man, an honorable man,” her mom continued. “And I had my girls, my house, and my garden.” She knitted her fingers together in her lap and looked at them as if her hands were tied. “But now I am back where I started. And my girls live a continent away.”

“I think I understand. I’ll get you out of here if I can.”

“With help from your young man?”

“He’s not
my
young man. We’re...” She struggled to think. “I don’t know what we are. But he’s smart and kind and proud.”

“And sexy.”

Chuckling, Mara picked up her tea and downed it. “He makes me laugh and hurt for him. He listens to me and thinks about what I say. Mom, he built me a desk and he reads all the placards in museums.”

Su Lin’s knowing laugh rolled out. “You are in love with him but you are afraid.”

“Something like that.”

“Your situation is nothing like mine. You and I are not alike. If Cort Jones is a good man and you love him, fight for him.”

“I don’t know. He trusts no one. He doesn’t believe in love.”

“Self-preservation. He has been hurt by someone he loved, his father. Pride. You said he was proud.”

Mara nodded. He’d given her no sign he felt anything but desire. Maybe friendship as well. Not enough. Was she in love with him? Or was it simple lust? Simple? Nothing was simple about the emotions roiling inside her.

“One thing more,” Su Lin said, with a catch in her voice. “I have never told anyone because it shames me.”

Mara studied the older woman’s anguished face. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“You need to understand. I told you I did not love your father when we married. When the doctor warned him about smoking and his weight, I realized I could lose him. That is when I knew I loved him.”

Not just loyalty, but love. Tears welled again. She caught her mother’s hand and felt the trembling of her emotion in her frail bones. “He knew?”

Su Lin shook her head. “That is my shame. I was afraid to tell Quincy I loved him. Afraid he would not believe me after all those years. He died without knowing.”

“I’m so sorry.” She rose from her seat and went to embrace her mother.

“Your young man has no family left. Only you. And you are both in danger.” When Mara started to protest, her mother cut her off. “No, don’t. I see more than you think. Once you know your feelings for him, tell him. Let him know he is not alone.”

“That’s a big risk to take.”

“Some things are worth the risk. I regret every day I did not risk love with your father.”

Mara hugged her mother goodbye awhile later and meandered unseeing through the restaurant’s busy tables. Too much to think about. Too much to absorb.

She nearly collided with a server bearing a heavy tray of hot covered dishes. Aromas of spicy chicken and shrimp and the hated kimchi wafted around her as the lids rattled. She apologized to the irate server and scooted away.

Whatever Cassie had overheard got jumbled in the telling to Mara. Or misinterpreted by their juvenile minds. As Cort said. Marriage was about love, but more than love. Her parents made their union work in many ways. They had passion and their marriage lasted. But what she’d always wanted still held. True love from the beginning. On both sides.

She was about to take a seat on the bench reserved for take-out customers when a sharp voice penetrated her fog.

“Customers need those seats,” her aunt snapped. Probably irked because Mara hadn’t made time for her. More likely because she had to do Su Lin’s job. “Your young man came in. He said to meet him at the car.”

“Thanks. I’ll visit with you next time, okay?” Mara slipped away without waiting for a reply and hustled around back.

Vehicles pinged as their engines cooled in the full lot. Under the halogen safety lighting, she spied their rental car beside the restaurant’s panel van. Funny, Cort wasn’t in the driver’s seat. And hadn’t he said to wait inside? Apprehension prickled her nape.

A big hand covered her mouth and an equally hefty arm yanked her backward. Her heart raced. Her head reeled. She struggled but the man had her pinned against him.

“Do not make a sound.” A man in a tailored suit stepped from behind the van. The accent, the military bearing, the buzz cut, he had to be Colonel Yerik. “I merely want to talk.”

His words made no sense over the barrel of his big pistol, aimed at her nose.

***

The aromas inside Seoul Food made Cort’s mouth water, although he’d filled up on Cambodian beef in yellow curry peanut sauce. A cup of tea, maybe a dessert, while he waited seemed like a plan. Mara should be ready to go soon.

“Mr. Jones?” A beautiful older woman who looked to be Mara’s relative approached him. She wasn’t smiling. No surprise. She wouldn’t be thrilled about his being with Mara.

“That’s me. I don’t want to rush Mara. I can wait.”

“My daughter left to meet you a few minutes ago.”

His dinner congealed into cement in his stomach. He clasped Su Lin Marton’s trembling hand. “Mrs. Marton, why did she leave? Where’d she go?”

Her free hand fluttered to her throat. “I don’t know. My sister said...” She swallowed hard, cast a beseeching glance toward another woman. “Mae?”

The sister, a stack of menus in her hand, looked distraught, confused. “A man came in. Said he was waiting for Mara. She should meet him at the car.”

“What did this man look like?” Cort demanded as he reached for the door handle.

“Like you. Bigger though,” Mae said with a shrug. “Tough. Shorter hair. Windbreaker.”

Shit. One of the Clones.
“Stay here.” He blew out the door and booked it around the corner of the building.

Braking to a halt in the parking lot, he scanned the area. “Mara!”

No answer.

Shadows blurred the scene, but their rental sat empty where he’d left it, and more cars filled the small lot. Every nerve in his body tingling, on alert, he raced between the cars. Nothing.

A woman’s scream split through the traffic’s hum. A scuffling noise from the back of the lot sent him barreling that direction.

More scuffling. A male yelp of pain.

“You freak, let me go!”

“Mara!”
He bolted into the narrow passage, adrenaline pushing him like a mighty hand. A dark alley, rank with smells of garbage and worse.

One of the Clone Brothers held Mara pinned against his torso with one arm. His other arm held one of hers stretched in front. The Clone grimaced in pain.

Cort’s breath caught and fear threatened to choke him. When Mara’s wide gaze met his, he saw anger but no pain or fear. As quickly as his gorge rose, he dialed it down. She needed him to stay cool.

“Let me go, you ape.” She struggled in the steely grip, kicked backward with one pointed heel. “Or I’ll kick you again.”

Give ’em hell, sweetheart.
But that could backfire. “Easy, Mara. Don’t give him a reason to hurt you.”

“Hold it right there, Jones.” Colonel Yerik pointed a pistol his way. Not the same one as last time. Even bigger. Long attachment—a silencer.

His relief at seeing Mara whole vanished. “Let her go, Yerik. She was just visiting her mother.”

“So you said before about San Francisco. Not credible. I do not believe in coincidence. Sorry to hear about the guard Inglish’s demise.” He raised his cigarette for a long drag.

“Was that you?”

Yerik snorted. “Not my style. Too high profile and no finesse. And inconvenient.”

“And Mara?” Cort clenched his fists as he struggled for patience.

“I warned you, Jones. If you pursue the search for the jewels, she will pay. It seems you—and she—need a demonstration.”

“You touch her, Yerik, and I’ll blow this thing sky high. Your fucking prime minister will go down so fast, he’ll suck you down the drain with him.”

“An idle threat. You have no proof of anything.”

“I don’t need proof, asshole. All I need is an interested TV reporter.” At Yerik’s raised eyebrow, he took a step forward. Before he could press his advantage, a siren’s wail brought up everyone’s heads. Mara’s mom must’ve called the cops.

“I do not believe you will go public.” Yerik tossed down his cigarette. “Be warned. I can get to Ms. Marton any time I want.” He turned to the Clone. “Release her.”

The muscleman shoved Mara toward Cort.

As she stumbled away, he caught her up in his arms. Could only watch as the men disappeared down the alley. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, thanking the powers that be he’d reached her in time and cursing himself for giving Yerik that window. He should’ve stayed at Seoul Food for dinner, kept her within reach.

“Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you?”

“The damn freak burned me.” Movements rife with fury, she pushed up her sleeve to display an angry, round wound.

Son of a bitch’s cigarette.
Cort clutched her shoulders, then held her closer. He’d encase her with his whole body if he could. Over her head he stared down the alley where the men had disappeared. If he had laser vision, he’d cut through buildings and incinerate Yerik and his goon.

“How bad is it?”

When a clatter on the pavement announced arrivals, he released her.

Casting a glance around him, she pulled the sleeve down. “Stings like hell, but don’t tell Mom. Here she comes with the police.”

***

“Kind of late for you, Kaplan. Out on the town?” As if Cort could picture the rumpled FBI agent doing anything but working. He propped his cell phone under his chin as he wrestled with a corkscrew.

“If you call still being at my desk out on the town.” Pencil tapping echoed through the connection.

“You have news for me or your usual threats and warnings?”

“Funny guy. No threats but I can deliver the other two. Your detective friend informs me the car involved in Danita Inglish’s death has been found in long-term parking at San Francisco International Airport.”

“Anything like clues inside? The killer’s gun’s too much to hope for.”

“Bingo,” Kaplan said. “Wiped clean of course. And sitting on the seat beside a dead man. Big dude wearing a dark windbreaker.”

“Sounds like the guy I saw running from Inglish’s building.”

He flipped the lever and the wine cork popped loose. They’d purchased a bottle of local wine, a V. Sattui pinot noir. Mara preferred red wine to white, like he did. He’d urged her to let him open it now. She could use a little mellowing after being terrorized.

“Looks like it’s him,” Kaplan said. “Local rent-a-thug who won’t be missed, according to the detective. Took a slug to the temple.”

“He was probably Inglish’s killer.”

“And a clear warning. No witnesses. If you want to turn the ring piece over to me and let the FBI handle the case like you wanted before, I won’t object.”

Cort nearly dropped the phone. Stop? Let the FBI run with the ball? Tempting, considering Mara’s safety. But with Colonel Yerik in the mix, he had to keep going. “Kaplan, your concern warms the cold corners of my heart. But like you told me before, people will talk to me or Mara easier than to the Feds. I’ll stick with it. For now.”

“Don’t say I never gave you an out, Jones. You and the lady watch your backs.” With that the agent disconnected.

Too many disparate details and no more ring pieces. Cort stowed his cell and carried the open bottle and two goblets into the living room.

Mara glided down the stairs, brightening the room. Barefoot and wearing a red silk caftan, she moved with such sensual grace, his breath caught. As he settled on the couch, anticipation rippled desire through him. He poured them some wine and handed her a goblet.

“You’re brooding. Bad news?” She curled up on the other end of the sofa—not beside him—and tucked her feet beneath her. She sipped her wine, staring into it as if seeking answers.

No answers for him there, but maybe a duller edge to his returning headache. He sipped the wine and savored before downing a healthy slug. He didn’t know wine but he knew what he liked. Fruity, nice and dry. “You’re the quiet one but
I’m
brooding? Not bad news. Hell, except for a thug in long-term parking.” He recounted his conversation with the FBI agent.

“Don’t even consider trying to convince me to stop, if that’s what has your forehead all knotted up.” She sank into the cushions and closed her eyes.

“Too late. You’d still be in danger.” What was she wearing under that slithery garment? Maybe nothing? He slid closer and soaked in her just-showered scent. “How’s the arm?”

They’d bought burn cream and bandages on the way back to the condo. She’d winced but hadn’t complained as he tended the ugly wound. Every dab with cream stabbed him in the gut. Hurt him more than it pained her.

“Okay. Ibuprofen helped. I’ll heal.” She settled back and sipped more wine.

Except for her abnormal quiet, she seemed back to herself after her ordeal. She’d held up like a trouper while the cops questioned them and even afterward. Su Lin had glared but said nothing when he and Mara swore the attack was a mugger after her purse. She recited a generic description—average height, average weight, ski mask. Both the patrolman and her mother shook their heads. He bet Mrs. Marton gave her sister hell for falling for the thug’s line. Ice still gripped his gut when he thought about how Yerik had terrorized Mara.

He pulled himself back to present worries. “Too many questions and too many seemingly insignificant details. Every new clue, every new event tumbles through my head and causes a shift like the pieces in a kaleidoscope. Until I see no pattern at all. We’re as far away as ever from finding the location of the crown jewels.”

She rallied and sat up straight, brisk and back into the puzzle. “One of them will make it all click. Maybe Danita’s daughter has her mother’s ring piece or knows where she hid it. Like in a safe deposit box. My apartment building has locked storage areas in the basement. Maybe hers does too and she stashed it there.” She poured more wine.

He raised an eyebrow. She never drank more than one glass of wine. “Rough dinner with Mom? Or are you still shaken up?”

“Both. A little. Mom’s worried about me, doing this search with you.”

“Hanging out with the Jeweler’s ex-con son.”

“Actually no. More about the danger. Even before today’s
mugging
. She seemed quite impressed with you. She thinks you’re sexy.”

He grinned, satisfaction and sensual energy flaring. “What does her daughter think?”

She drank some wine and set down the glass. “She agreed to look through her stuff in storage to see what she has of Dad’s.”

Cort saw the ambivalence on her expressive face. Both mother and daughter hoped she’d find nothing incriminating, but if there was a ring, at least they’d have an answer. High price for success. “And the other question?”

She affected a puzzled look but the flush on her cheeks gave her away.

“Come on. Give. Mom revealed all.”

“You wish. You were right that whatever Cassie overheard, we misinterpreted. Dad fell in love with Mom but she married him for security.”

“To get out of the restaurant job she’s been forced to come back to many years later. That’s it? That’s all?”

“What? You thought she gave me an X-rated version?” She swung her feet to the floor and pushed to her feet. “You can stay here drinking wine. It’s been a long day. I need Z’s.”

WTF
. He reached for her hand. “Hey, sweetheart, you’re wearing that slinky red thing and sharing my wine and you’re going to bed? Alone? Remember last night? You’re not still afraid of letting go? Or are you playing games?”