Virgin in Disguise Page 15
For how long? She stiffened her back. “There’s still the question of what bank holds the box.”
“True. A little research will take care of that.” He loosened his hold on her and allowed her to step away. “Any suggestions how we get out of here?”
“We split up.” She started down the stairs. “Two guys can’t cover all the entrances. Odds are in our favor that one of us will get by one of them.”
“Unless they have reinforcements.”
“You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”
“And you’re limping.”
“Yippee-skippee.” She scowled over her shoulder at him. “A new dimension to my disguise.”
“You think that’ll be enough to throw them off?” He pushed in front of her and blocked the way. “Sit down. I want to check your ankle.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll have it walked off by the time we get to the bottom.”
“Sit.” He pushed down on her shoulders.
She sat with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. He ignored her peeve as he tested her ankle. “It seems to be okay. At least there’s no swelling.”
“You should try listening to me sometime.”
“Okay, I’m listening. How do you suggest we proceed?”
“Oh, fine. Leave the hard stuff to me.” She ran her hands through her hair. “First step is getting out of this building.”
She waited for him to make a smart comeback. He didn’t say anything, just rubbed her ankle with his warm hands.
The sensations generated by his touch mingled with an unexpected appreciation of his presence. Having a partner had some definite pluses. Even if it was only temporary.
Time enough for that reality later. Right now, escape took priority. “We’ve got three lobby levels with access to the public elevators. Those elevators open on both the street level and skyway level.”
Cabrini glanced down the stairwell.
“I don’t know where these stairs come out.” She answered his unasked question. “And I don’t like going down a blind path.”
“Right. Let’s stick with what we know. Five possible intercept points. If there’s someone watching every level—”
“We’re screwed.” She stood. Sitting and talking wasn’t getting them anywhere. They needed to move. “They’ll be watching for a couple, so we can’t go together.”
“There has to be another way.”
“There is. You noticed the escalators in the lobby, by the hotel guest elevators?” She waited for his nod. “They end on the second floor, outside of the hotel, in a skyway hall of the City Center stores.”
“So one of us goes that way, hoping to get by the lobby thug.”
“While the other goes down the elevators and avoids the street thug.”
Cabrini stopped. “Okay, suppose we both manage to get past them. Then what?”
“We find the bank.”
He shook his head. “I need a phone. While we’re getting out of here, the office can start the research. With a little luck, they’ll have the answer by the time we’re on the street.”
She pulled out her phone and handed it to him.
He handed it back to her. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
The No Signal icon glowed in the display. “It figures.” She shoved the phone back into her purse.
Somewhere above them, a door opened. A woman’s scream bounced down the cement walls.
“Shiloh. Someone found Sorenson.”
“Let’s get out of here before they find us.”
Two more flights and they were at the door to the fifth-floor lobby.
“I’ll take the escalator.” Cabrini stood in front of the door. “Meet me at the library. We can research banks there.” He smoothed a hand over her hair and cupped the back of her head. “One more thing.”
“What?”
“Be careful.” He kissed her, one of his slow nibbling, never-quite-reaching-the-lips kisses.
She loved those kisses. “You, too.”
They slipped through the door and headed in their assigned directions.
Frank spotted Lobby Thug almost immediately. He sat on one of the fourth-floor lobby couches, watching people come and go.
Acting like a casual tourist, Frank made a pretense of looking around the lobby as he moved from one escalator to the next. The whole time, Lobby Thug held his attention.
Better watch it. Dubbing their tails with silly tags didn’t lessen the danger they presented.
As if proving the point, Lobby Thug rose from his seat and headed for the escalator.
Frank walked down the moving stairs. One of many weak points in this plan was how little used the escalator was. There would be no blending in with the crowd, because there was no crowd.
Footsteps sounded behind him. He threw a casual glance back as he rounded the corner onto the last flight. Lobby Thug had definitely followed him.
Smoked glass doors blocked the bottom of the steps. Frank pushed through them, and paused long enough to get his bearings.
To the left was a mostly empty hallway that dog-legged into the shopping center. To the right, a skyway crossed the street.
He caught a flash of Elf’s lavender jacket as she came from the hotel’s outside elevator bank and started across the glass enclosed bridge.
A casually dressed man trailed after her.
Instinct said go right, follow her, be there if she ran into trouble and needed help.
Training said divide and conquer. Elf could handle herself. Better than most people. She’d be fine. He needed to get moving.
He turned left.
The nape of Angel’s neck tingled, a dead giveaway someone followed her. She increased her pace a little, blending with other skyway pedestrians. Once she got into Marshall Field’s she’d have plenty of exits to choose from and more opportunity for cover.
Foot traffic was light in the store. When she got to the men’s casual clothing department, she left the main aisle and wandered among the racks and displays.
She picked a shirt off a table and used it as cover as she scoped out the area. A bank of mirrors reflected the image of a man wearing a lightweight jacket. The same man had been loitering near the hotel entrance.
“Isn’t that a great color?” A salesman stopped beside her.
“It’s very nice.” Inspiration struck. She turned her back to her shadow. “Maybe you can help me with something.”
“Of course. What are you looking for?”
“Nothing just now, but can you tell me if that man by the mirrors—” she kept her hand by her shoulder as she pointed behind her “—the one with the olive-greenish jacket on. Is he a member of your store security? Because he’s been following me, and it seems kind of creepy.”
The salesman looked over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen him before. Let’s go make a call.”
Frank ducked into a tourist-trap store. The tall shelves and racks of Minnesota-themed shirts, mugs and trinkets provided a wealth of kitschy cover. As soon as his tail passed the entrance, Frank stepped back into the mall.
He wanted to maintain a safe distance, but he needed to keep the guy in sight.
Not as easy as it might seem. He’d already disappeared.
Frank stopped outside a jewelry store, pretending to look at the gaudy diamonds as he watched for Lobby Thug’s reappearance.
A few seconds passed, and his wait bore fruit. LT stepped out of a store two doors down. And turned in his direction.
Frank stepped into the jewelry store.
Chapter 13
Angel watched from a discreet distance, expressing a suitable level of gratitude to the salesman for his assistance in capturing the “stalker.” Store security hustled the suspect off to somewhere within the bowels of the building for a friendly chat. Now all she needed to do was get to the library and meet up with Cabrini.
Skyway traffic remained rather light, which would make it easy to spot anyone else trying to tail her. That same
lack of pedestrians left her with a sense of vulnerability.
Street level would be better and quicker. She made her way out of the store, slipping on sunglasses against the bright summer sun.
Traffic definitely moved at a faster pace outside. Her new position had the added bonus of being able to check several skyways from a single location. Within a block, she spotted Frank crossing the street overhead.
A dark-suited man followed hot on his heels.
The building they entered provided several exit options. Since the public library was at the far end of Nicollet Mall, she laid odds Cabrini would head in that direction. She crossed the mall, dodging a city bus. As she pushed through the heavy doors of Gaviidae Common, she slipped off her jacket, turned it black side out and pulled it back on.
She didn’t know yet exactly what she’d do, but she wouldn’t desert Cabrini. Please, please, please, let him come this way.
Frank spotted Elf as he neared the atrium of the next building. She wore dark glasses and had somehow changed her jacket, but he recognized her as she climbed the escalator on the far side of the atrium.
A few days ago, he might not have seen through the changes. Now, all it took was a slight tilt of her head and he knew, without a doubt, it was her.
Another bunch of stores surrounded them, but LT probably wouldn’t fall for that ruse a second time. He needed to shake him for good.
Elf reached the second floor and he spotted another addition to her disguise repertoire. As she headed in his general direction, her white cane tapped a gentle beat on the marble floor.
They passed without any acknowledgement. A moment later, he heard the thud of colliding bodies and the raised tones of an indignant British woman.
“You clumsy oaf!” the familiar voice railed.
Atta girl, Elf.
A muttered response.
“Typical American male, walking about with no regard for anyone else. I suppose you intend to just leave me here with everything strewn all about and no help putting things to rights.”
Frank checked out the scene as he headed down the escalator. LT crouched on the floor, gathering the spilled contents of the briefcase, never looking above the white cane. Elf stood over him like an avenging angel as a security guard trotted over to investigate the commotion.
Out on the street, Frank considered waiting, then decided against it. One thing he knew for sure after four days—Elf could handle herself and just about anything thrown her way. She’d handled him with little difficulty.
Which proved to be a new and interesting experience. Unlike the safe women he normally dated, Elf challenged him. She came as close to an equal as he’d ever found. The possibilities for their relationship existed on an entirely different level.
And she wouldn’t appreciate him waiting for her, as though she were anything less than completely capable.
They had agreed to rendezvous at the library. That’s where he needed to go.
The new public library anchored on the north end of Nicollet Mall was a showplace of cutting-edge technology. Angel scanned the banks of computers that allowed patrons to search the library system’s extensive holdings with a few simple keystrokes.
She spotted Cabrini logged in at one of the terminals. She sat at the next desk. “Nice view.”
“Hadn’t noticed.”
“You didn’t plan to sit where you can see everyone who enters the area?”
He shrugged. “Is that how you found me?”
“I found you because I figured the computers would be the most logical place for looking up information.” She slid her chair closer to him. “Speaking of which, have you found anything yet?”
“Just getting started. It looks like your mother’s bank merged with another one around the same time as your father’s death.”
“Murder.”
Cabrini leaned back in his chair and studied her.
She balled one hand into a fist. Twenty years, and the pain still held a raw ache for her. It must be a hundred times worse for Mom. I need to find who killed him. And why.
Cabrini’s warm hand covered hers. “Shortly after the merger, the bank moved locations.”
The small comfort of his touch eased the tightness in her chest. “I’ve been trying to figure out how Mom could have kept this secret so long. Banks require regular contact from a customer or they consider an account or a box abandoned, don’t they?”
He returned his attention to the computer. “Yes, they do.”
“This is just a wild-goose chase.” She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and rubbed her eyes. “There is no safe-deposit box. If there ever was one, the contents have long since disappeared.”
“Maybe not.”
“But she hasn’t gone to the bank in years.”
“Safe-deposit boxes are usually—almost always—tied to a bank account. Maybe you never noticed a charge on the statement.”
“Yeah, right. That’s real likely.”
“I’m not ready to give up on this track just yet. Are you?”
She sighed. Her shoulders sagged and she scratched her fingers through her hair. “I hate wasting time. We should go to Dex’s office and have it out with him. Find out what’s really going on and be done with it.”
“Nice fantasy. Don’t think he’s real anxious to see us. At least, not on our schedule.”
“Maybe….” She straightened in her chair. “Saskatoon.”
Cabrini looked up. “What?”
“I must be brain-dead.” Excitement danced along her arms.
“You just remembered something, didn’t you?”
“Yepper. A savings account that shrinks a little each year because of an annual service charge.”
“Why do you keep it?”
“Because every year when I mutter something about closing it and putting the money someplace where it’d do some good, my mother stops me. ‘It was your father’s. Leave it be,’ she says.”
“And you’ve left the money sitting there.”
“It wasn’t such a huge amount that it would make a big difference. There didn’t seem to be any harm in letting her have that final connection, especially if it gave her some peace of mind.”
“Where is it?”
“Back down Nicollet a few blocks.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“For you to log off the computer and empty the cache.”
He nodded. “No sense in leaving behind clues.”
The safe-deposit box area of Aegis National Bank sat off to the side of the large, marble lobby, behind a heavy glass door. Two gray leather chairs sat against one narrow wall, and a chest-high marble service counter guarded the vault entrance.
The woman assigned to the area greeted them with a pleasant and impersonal smile when they entered. “May I help you?”
“Yes.” Angel stepped to the counter. “I have something of a dilemma and I’m hoping you might be able to help.”
Her words triggered a subtle chill in the banker’s attitude.
She took a deep breath. Just act natural and calm, same as for any facade. The worst the keeper of the vault could do would be to say no. “You see, my mother gave me this key.” She held it out to the woman.
“Yes?” Tillie the Hun wasn’t going to volunteer any help.
“Well, you see, she’s had the box since before this building was built. In fact, it was originally in one of the smaller banks this bank acquired nearly twenty years ago.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“Well, no, of course there isn’t. But perhaps you could tell me if this key fits one of the boxes here.”
“No.”
“No, you can’t tell me, or no, it doesn’t match?”
“Are you an authorized signer on the account?”
Progress. Sort of. “Yes.”
Tillie slapped a card on the counter. “Sign this.”
She signed and slid the card back across the counter. Tillie went to a bank of
card files and flipped through the contents.
Angel turned and caught Cabrini ogling her legs. It was all she could do to not tug on her skirt. The length had seemed perfectly suitable, modest even, when she’d dressed that morning. Now the skirt seemed shorter by the minute, as his gaze wandered from her ankles to her hips and back.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, blaming her discomfort on the pumps she wore.
“How’s your ankle?”
“Fine.” Memories of the previous night’s foot rub that had begun so innocently warmed her cheeks and neck.
“It doesn’t match.” Tillie’s return put an end to any more reminiscing.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your signature does not match the signature on record.”
“Could I see the record?”
“Certainly not.”
They had not come this far to quit. Angel took a slow breath. “It’s just that I think I was about twelve years old when I signed the card. My signature has changed some since then.”
“Minors are not allowed to enter into contracts.” Tillie latched onto that bit of information. “If you were under eighteen years of age when you signed a card contracting ownership of a safe-deposit box, it was an act of fraud.”
Okay, not exactly the obstacle I expected. “There were extenuating circumstances.”
“Of course there were.” The response left no room for doubt of her opinion.
“Well, there must be a way to sort this out.” Angel stood straighter, bringing every inch of her height into play. “Surely there are other ways to verify identity.”
“The signature does not match. There’s nothing I can do.” Tillie headed back to her desk.
“Wait a second.”
“Was there something else you wanted?”
“Yes, I want to see the contents of the box.”
“You must be an authorized signer on the account to access the box.”
“I am.”
“Your signature does not match.”
Well, that had been a quick round-trip. “Had a lot of training on handwriting analysis, have you?”