help me,â he answered, surprising her with his bluntness.
Elena put down her spoon. âWhatâs wrong, and how can I help?â
He gave her a look that said he wasnât happy about providing an explanation, but he knew she wasnât going to cooperate unless he did.
âIâve gotten into some stuff I canât handle,â he clipped out.
âLike what, exactly?â she asked, feeling as though she were prying a piece of hardened gum off the bottom of her shoe.
âI was making a delivery.â
âAt the rental car agency? What does that have to do with anything?â
âNot the car agency.â He stopped and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. âItâs better if you donât know.â
She waited for more information.
âSomeoneâs got the goods on me. They can have me arrested big time if they want. But they told me thereâs a way out. If you can get me some information from S&D.â
âWhat are you trying to say?â she asked in a voice that hardly sounded like her own.
He leaned across the table toward her. âThere was a guy who died. Arnold Blake.â
There was the name again. She hadnât thought about Arnold Blake in months, and now both Shane and her brother had brought him up.
âWhat about him?â she managed to ask.
âHe took some information from S&D. He was supposed to turn it over to a guy, but he didnât do it. Thatâs how he ended up dead.â
âI donât understand. What do you want me to doâexactly?â
âFind out where he hid the material, and bring it to me.â
Chapter 8
Elena moistened her dry lips. âWhat information? What are you talking about?â
âI donât know what it is. I only know itâs my ticket to freedom.â
She tried to take in the reality of what he was saying. âYouâre asking me to steal something that belongs to S&D?â
He waved his hand dismissively. âNo.â
âThen what?â
She heard the exasperation in his voice. âJust find where Blake put it, and give it to me.â
âAlesandro, you know I canât do that.â
âYou want me to get beat up real bad? Maybe killed?â
âNo. Of course not. But I thought this was about not getting arrested.â
âIt is. It was.â He made a low sound. âThe bastards set me up. They can turn me in to the cops, or they can make me wish I was in protective custody.â
She gasped, trying to understand but not really getting it.
âThink about helping me. But donât think about it too long because I donât have much time.â
âWhat if I get caught?â she blurted out.
âBlake took the information months ago. They wonât link you to him.â
âWhat youâre asking could get me fired.â
âThey wonât know you did anything.â
She couldnât believe heâd said that so casually. He was asking her to do something immoral, and he wasnât worried about it at all.
âIâd better go,â he said, standing up abruptly.
She jumped out of her chair. âWait, you canât just drop something like that on me and leave.â
âI have to go. They could be tracking me. I have to keep moving.â
He strode out of the dining area, down the hall, and out of her apartment, where he carefully closed the door behind himself.
She stood, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to try and ward off the sudden chill that had gripped her body.
When she looked at the food still on the table, she knew she couldnât choke down another bite. Mechanically, she picked up the dish, carried it to the sink and scraped the rest of the meal into the sink, then ran the disposal and washed the mess away. Looking back at the table, she saw the glass of ginger ale sheâd set in front of Alesandro and poured that down the sink, too, then stood with her fists