Undercover with the Mob. Elizabeth Bevarly

memory lapse to remind them that one day soon, there would be no such outings.

      Grace’s mother had always loved coming to Dallas’s West End, perusing the shops and dining in the converted warehouses. As Grace sat watching the street she and her mother had strolled together so many times in the past, a sense of desperation stole over her. Where are you? she cried silently. What have they done to you?

      Yesterday morning, just hours after Grace had fled the warehouse, she’d gone home from a meeting with Burt Gordon, her boss at the Examiner, to find that her apartment had been sacked. As she’d stood gazing at the wreckage of her personal belongings, her cellular phone had rung. When Grace answered, a male voice on the other end said, “Grace Drummond?”

      Something about the way he spoke her name made her blood go cold. “Yes?”

      “You have something I want.”

      “Who is this?”

      “You know who I am.”

      “Kane?” His name was barely a whisper on her lips.

      He gave a low laugh. “I understand you’ve gotten pretty chummy with one of my colleagues. Unfortunately, Alec met his untimely demise earlier this morning, but then, you already know that, don’t you?”

      Grace’s heart thundered in her ears. How had Kane known about her association with Priestley? Had Priestley talked? Had he sold her out before he died?

      She swallowed, trying to calm her racing pulse. “What do you want?”

      “Don’t play dumb. You know what I want.” Kane paused. “Tell me something, Grace. How long has it been since you talked to your mother?”

      The connection had been severed with a soft click, leaving Grace clinging to the telephone with a horrible dread. She’d immediately dialed the number of the nursing home where her mother lived, only to have the director tell her that Angeline had been transported by ambulance a short while ago to another facility as per Grace’s written request.

      Grace had given no such instructions, and when she’d called the new facility, they’d never heard of her or her mother. By that time, Grace was in her car, racing toward the nursing home. When her cell phone rang again, she lifted it to her ear without saying a word, knowing instinctively who was on the other end.

      “Now I have something you want.”

      Grace’s stomach rolled sickeningly. “Don’t hurt her. I swear to God, if you hurt her in any way—”

      “Cut the dramatics,” Kane said cruelly. “We both know you aren’t in any position to make threats. From here on out, I call the shots.”

      When Grace didn’t respond, he laughed. “You’re in over your head, little girl. I’ve got people in places you can’t begin to imagine. You talk to a friend, I’ll know it. You talk to the cops again—I’ll know that to. You understand?”

      Grace understood. Only too well. Her hand shook as she gripped the phone. In the last five years, she’d done a lot of research on the drug trade. Drug lords spent millions of dollars a year to keep cops on their side. Obviously, Kane was no exception.

      “You want to keep your mother alive, you keep your mouth shut.” His voice lowered dangerously. “If I so much as smell a cop nosing around that nursing home, or anywhere else, she’s a dead woman.”

      Grace squeezed her eyes closed in fear. “Tell me what to do.” But even in her state of terror, she knew she was dealing with a man she couldn’t trust. A cold-blooded murderer. It would take equal cunning to get her mother out of this alive.

      “You keep that phone close by, you hear? I’ll be in touch. We’ll set up a drop. Your mother for that tape.”

      “When—”

      The phone had gone dead in Grace’s ear, and she hadn’t heard from Kane since. It had been over twenty-four hours.

      She knew what he was doing. He was making her sweat. Wearing her down. Making her so desperate to save her mother that she would get careless.

      Her fingers trembled around the now lukewarm cup of coffee as she contemplated her dilemma. Her frail, beautiful mother was being held hostage for the tape that could put Kane away forever, and possibly incriminate Stephen Rialto. That tape—and Grace’s silence—was the only thing that could save Angeline’s life.

      But Grace knew once Kane had what he wanted, he would come after them. He wouldn’t take a chance on her silence, and she had to be ready. Once the exchange was made, she and Angeline would have to disappear forever.

      Her heart quickened as she spotted a familiar figure crossing the street toward her. Even in the deepening twilight, she could see Helen Parks’s agitation in the way she walked, in the nervous way she glanced over her shoulder from time to time. She was warmly dressed in a long wool coat and leather gloves, and a metal briefcase swung at her side.

      Helen paused on the sidewalk in front of the café, her gaze meeting Grace’s for an instant before she disappeared inside, only to emerge moments later on the patio. She sat down at the table with Grace and placed the briefcase on the floor between them.

      One leather-clad hand reached for Grace’s on the table. Her dark eyes searched Grace’s face. “God, are you all right? I’ve been worried out of my mind ever since Burt told me what happened.”

      “Burt?” Absently, Grace pulled her hand away, entangling her fingers together in her lap. “What did he say?”

      “He’s worried about you, too. He said you called him night before last and had him meet you at the office. He said you were scared to death and that you were going to the police with a tape you’d made.” Helen glanced around the almost deserted patio. “Grace, what’s going on? What have you gotten yourself into? It has something to do with the Calderone drug cartel, doesn’t it?”

      “In a roundabout way,” Grace admitted. She scanned the patio, too. “You remember the night I staked out the warehouse? They murdered a man, Helen. My contact. Alec Priestley. I saw it. I got the whole thing on tape. They set the warehouse on fire, and I barely made it out. I didn’t know what to do at first, so I called Burt and asked him to meet me at the office. We talked about the situation for a long time. He wanted me to turn over the tape to him for safekeeping, but I’d already stashed it. And by that time, I knew I had to go to the police. I mean…I’d witnessed a murder. What else could I do?”

      Helen’s gaze looked stricken. “I told you not to go there that night, remember? I warned you what kind of people they were.”

      “I know. And believe me, I wish I’d listened to you,” Grace said grimly.

      “What happened with Burt?”

      “He stormed out of the office when I refused to turn over the tape. I used his phone to call the police. I talked to a detective, told him I’d witnessed a murder. I could finger Lester Kane and possibly Stephen Rialto, and I had the whole thing on tape. I asked him to meet me at my apartment later that morning so that I could throw some things together. I knew I’d be taken into protective custody, and I had to take care of some business first. Besides, I had no reason to believe I was in any danger. I mean no one even knew about me, right? Or the tape? At least, that’s what I thought. But when I got home a few hours later, my apartment had been tossed. Someone was already looking for that tape, Helen. Kane already knew about me.”

      Helen’s dark eyes widened in fear. “But how did he find out so quickly? You didn’t tell anyone except Burt and the police—” She stopped short. Her gloved hand went to her mouth. “You’re not saying you think Burt—”

      “I don’t know. But Kane found out about me somehow.”

      “Maybe he already knew. Let’s think about this for a minute.” Helen stared at the street pensively as she tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears. “Your contact—this Alec Priestley—he could have gotten cold feet and told Kane himself. At