Page 3 of Driven by Desire

CHAPTER TWO

“Cilia, I’m here!”

Riley wasn’t overly surprised when no one called back. It was usually a fifty-fifty chance that her mom would be home when she said she would be. Cilia’s schedule was about as predictable as the woman herself. She was probably tracking the migration pattern of sea turtles again. Cilia was convinced the little bastards were plotting to take over the planet due to their extreme longevity.

Cilia Bancroft was special. A super genius, actually. She loved Riley. Or at least Riley hoped she did. She just wasn’t able to show it in a classic motherly way. She was a really good accountant, but sketchy as fuck. She usually managed to con rich people out of shit tons of money and walk away from them after a few years. They would beg her to continue services, never knowing that she’d stolen their money.

Riley was proud of her mother’s talents, but she worried too. Cilia was addicted to gambling, but her autistic brain made it impossible for her not to count the cards and weigh the odds. The challenge of winning, of pitting herself against an opponent drew Cilia to the tables. The danger of being found out appealed to the beautiful widow and terrified her daughter. Luckily, Riley had sufficient contacts in the gambling world to get her mom blacklisted from the legitimate casinos in the city. The underground gambling clubs had been a little more difficult, but she had pulled sway on her dad’s reputation until Cilia’s money was no good anywhere in the city.

Unfortunately, Riley’s machinations against her mother’s addiction had created a rift between the two women. Though Riley continued to doggedly care for her mother, despite Cilia’s coldness toward her only daughter.

Riley set an armload of groceries on the counter and began pulling food out of the reusable sacks. Cilia wouldn’t bother eating if food wasn’t brought to her. Like a child, the food had to be either easily eaten or pre-made. Which was probably for the best. Riley shuddered at the thought of her mother using a stove. Knowing Cilia, she would turn the element on, dump a pile of newspapers on it and walk away.

The front door slammed shut as Riley was finishing reorganizing the pantry. She frowned at a pile of used dog toys next to the cereal and wondered if Cilia was going to get a puppy. Should she start buying dog food now, too?

“Grocery day?” Cilia asked absently, wandering into the kitchen. The hems of her jeans were soaking wet and her usually flawless blond hair was chaotic and windswept. She slammed a bucket full of what smelled like sea water on the counter. She had been down to the ocean.

“Yeah, Cilia, I told you I would be by. Remember?” Riley answered, stepping away from the bucket. Experience told her that she didn’t want to know what was going on in there. “What’s with the dog toys? Are you sure you should be getting another pet? Or do we need to discuss Hamstergate again?”

Cilia gave her a sharp look. “They belong to the neighbour dog, of course. It’s a barking experiment.”

Without explaining further, she turned to the sink and tipped the stinky contents of her bucket. Riley turned away and stealthily snuck the toys into one of her grocery bags. It wasn’t the dog’s fault her mother was always experimenting on the poor creatures of the world. Speaking of which, she most definitely did not want to know what was happening in the sink, judging from the odd sucking sounds.

Edging toward the front door of her mother’s bungalow, she asked, “Want to go out for supper or drinks on Friday after work?”

Cilia’s back stiffened. “Can we go to Merchant’s?”

An underground casino lounge.

Riley sighed in resignation. “No, mom.”

“Then I’m busy,” Cilia answered coldly, not turning around.

Riley left, letting the screen door slam behind her. She loved her mother, but the woman was beyond frustrating. She emptied her grocery bag of dog toys to a very happy, wiggling boxer cross, reached over the fence to pat his head and then crossed the street to her roadster and drove back to the shop. She needed to get one of the guys to make a call for her.

She got Wendell to help her with the call. He was a mechanic similar in age to her, loyal to both her and her father and not in the least gossipy. He’d been hired at the age of fifteen after his older brother, a shop mechanic, was killed in a gang shooting. He and Riley practically grew up around cars together and had an easy, almost sibling-like relationship. She even went to the occasional Sunday supper with his parents, wife and kids, something she missed in her own life. He did raise an eyebrow when he found out who he was making a call to. Apparently, he had a few qualms over lying to the most lethal man in the city, but ultimately agreed.

“It’s not like he’ll ever find out it was you,” Riley begged.

“Yeah, okay,” Wendell agreed, eying Riley’s curves under her loose overalls. “Only because I think its a damn good idea to keep your identity out of this particular guy’s hands.”

They put the phone on speaker after dialling. Riley waited breathlessly, hoping it would go to voicemail. It didn’t. Soloman Hart picked up on the third ring, his deep measured voice answering as though he had been expecting the call.

“This is Riley Bancroft,” Wendell said, looking at Riley as he spoke. “I was told you wanted to speak with me, Mr. Hart.”

There was a long pause before Soloman’s deep drawling voice answered. “Yes, thank you for getting in touch. Did your… mechanic tell you my reason for visiting?”

“Yeah, she did,” Wendell assured him. “As she told you, man, we haven’t seen your ride in the shop and we’ll definitely be in touch if the Regera comes through here. Somethingone of a kind like that, it’ll stand out around here.”

“Yes, that would be why I made the visit myself. Do me a favour and ask around your circles… Riley? I want that car back,” Soloman said coldly.

Riley’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She knew she wasn’t imagining the way he paused before he said her name. Why did it feel as though he was toying with Wendell? Fuck, did he know the woman he spoke with in the early morning hours was Riley herself? If he did, then he’d found out way faster than she thought possible. Meaning his reach went even deeper than she had previously expected. No, she needed to believe he had no idea. That he didn't care enough to find out.

“Of course,” Wendell reassured him, watching Riley’s face with a frown.

“I want something else,” Soloman continued, his voice taking on a definite edge. “The name of that woman mechanic I met last night. She refused to give me one when asked.”

Riley’s eyes flew to Wendell's. He put a reassuring hand on her arm and gave Soloman the name that they’d talked about before the call. “Her name’s Katie Pullman,” he said with a forced chuckle. “Not sure why she refused to say. She’s usually a pretty big flirt. We have trouble keeping her away from the clients. You must’ve spooked her.”

---