Free Fugitive Heart by Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon Page A

hanging out around that time,” Nick continued. “I didn’t want any part of what he was getting into. I was concentrating on my own career, a nice normal job working at a museum, doing research, paying back school loans. Elliot was just a memory from my college days, until he called me out of the blue last month. And then he sent a text message…” He shook his head.
    “What did he do?” Ames didn’t want to hear the answer. She’d already figured it out. “Did he embezzle from them? Siphon off money to an account in the Caymans or something? Isn’t it all electronic transfers now?”
    “Something like that. They still like cold hard cash. I think he skimmed money from a couple of betting operations. He took cash and, more importantly, information to use as leverage to keep himself safe if he ever needed to plea bargain. I think he took small amounts and was having trouble laundering it, so he just let it pile up. When he ran, he stopped in at my place first. And someone was watching him.”
    “Your place?”
    “I had a spot where I hid stuff. My—” He shut up and stared out the window as he passed an SUV with Rhode Island plates. His expression went cold as he intently studied the passengers of the car, and his hand went into his pocket. Wait, was he carrying a gun?
    He remained silent even after he obviously relaxed and dropped back into the slower lane.
    She tapped his leg. “Go on. You were about to say something about a hiding place.”
    “Oh, right. Just that my father got me into the habit of hiding important…stuff for easy access.”
    Important “stuff” in her world included passports, car titles, but maybe with his background, he meant valuables like drugs and unregistered handguns—that sort of fun stuff .
    He said, “Dad didn’t have safe-deposit boxes in banks, and we never trusted anyone. He believed in keeping ready cash and other things in case he needed to run. I hadn’t used my secret spot for years, but Elliot knew where I used to keep valuables in my apartment. He came to my place for advice about how to break off with the Espositos, and while I was distracted, he lifted my extra key. He came back when I wasn’t home and hid part of his stash in the false back of a bookcase. Some of the money and a coded ledger page tracking payoffs.”
    “Why would he go to the trouble of hiding those things in your apartment rather than some spot of his own? It doesn’t make sense.”
    “He left just enough to drag my ass into the fire, to get the Espositos to focus on me instead of him.” He glanced away from the road to scowl at her—angry because she was related to Elliot, or because he didn’t think she’d believe him?
    She ignored his dark look and circled a hand to get him to keep talking.
    He wiggled his shoulders as if he tried to get comfortable, then leaned forward over the wheel again. So much nervous energy flowed through Nick, he didn’t seem able to relax.
    “Someone broke into my house, presumably because they’d been tracking Elliot, and found the evidence, which makes me think maybe Elliot somehow secretly tipped him off where to look. Anyway, I had no clue about any of this until I got a warning or something from Elliot, a text message. I went looking for your brother and found this guy at his apartment instead.”
    “Did you know the man?”
    He shot her a scowl. “No. I told you, I haven’t been in that world for years. The guy knew me though. Bert had given him my name, maybe my description, who knows. It didn’t end well. I think he must have been hired help because Bert didn’t mention him later on, after the guy, um, disappeared.”
    A chill ran through her at the word “disappeared”. Could Nick have killed the man? She wanted to ask what had happened, but instead said, “So you came looking for Elliot in Wisconsin?”
    “There’s still over four mill in cash missing, some in small denominations. That much money is sort of tough to cart around