False Security

by Angie Martin

  Donovan came up with the idea to use a blonde wig to match the hair color of Jill Wilkes. Donovan assumed since Cox chose Jill as his rape victim, sticking with a similar look would trigger him into action again. Rachel was not afraid of Cox trying anything since she could easily defend herself. She was more concerned with whether Donovan preferred blonde hair over her own lackluster, brunette locks.

  A few days earlier, Claudia showed her how to apply makeup. Claudia had only been told that Paul was taking Rachel to a musical. During her training session, Claudia gushed about all the musicals she had seen and how much she wanted to go to Broadway someday to see even more. Rachel soaked in all the tales, knowing that even though Paul was taking her to a building where a musical was being performed, she would not be in one of the seats watching the scenes unfold onstage.

  Rachel was unfamiliar with makeup in general, but learned the differences between blush and eye shadow, lipstick and eye liner. Using her newfound knowledge and a large array of makeup to choose from, Rachel selected more natural colors so she wouldn’t look like a doll that a child used as a coloring book. Her lipstick, however, was a striking bright red that matched her dress in shade. Her intention was to draw Cox’s eyes to her mouth in order to better lure him.

  The red dress fell to Rachel’s ankles and had a slit in front of one leg that stopped close to the top of her thigh without giving away any secrets. Thin spaghetti straps held up the top of the dress, and the neckline plunged drastically into a V-shape, revealing cleavage she never knew she had.

  The body of the dress clung to every curve and though she felt like she was on display, a sensual excitement overrode her doubts. With a gleam of mischief, she reached into the front of the dress and positioned her breasts for maximum exposure. She reassessed her appearance with satisfaction.

  She bunched up the skirt of the dress into her hands and jogged back into her room, where she slipped into a pair of open-toed red heels that revealed her manicured red toenails. Donovan had a manicurist and pedicurist come in earlier in the day to perform their magic on her, and she detested every moment of the pampering, even though she knew it was necessary.

  The shoes were not as quick a trick to learn as the makeup. She spent three weeks practicing in them before she could go from one end of a room to the other without falling. Her first painful steps in the shoes resulted in a couple sprained ankles during her crash course in walking. Now, she glided upstairs to the waiting room, where Donovan and Paul sat engaged in conversation.

  Both men stood as she entered the waiting room, each with a different expression when they saw her for the first time. Paul’s face wrinkled up. “I don’t know about this.”

  “I think she looks fine,” Donovan said. His eyes moved over her body, and Rachel hoped he had good thoughts. “The dress is much better than we thought and it’s sure to work.”

  “She might attract too much attention. We can’t risk someone remembering her later.”

  “Most men will take notice, but there will be a lot of other women dressed in a similar fashion. Women won’t notice her since they will be too busy trying to get Cox’s attention. As long as she’s the one Cox goes for, then nothing else matters. This dress is the best way.”

  “It’s really...tight,” Paul said.

  “It could be much worse. I think they did a great job picking this one out. It’s perfect.”

  “Excuse me,” Rachel said, “but you don’t have to talk like I’m not here.”

  “Okay then, how do you feel about the dress? Be honest, Rachel.” Paul crossed his arms. His tone expected her to side with him.

  She shrugged to play it down so as not to upset Paul, but also not to disagree with Donovan. “As long as the dress does its job, it’s fine. Besides, it’s too late to try to find another dress, so I don’t see why we’re having this discussion.”

  “Alright, I’ll let it go, but I still disagree.” Paul’s forehead creased. “Where’s your bag? We can’t forget that.”

  “I put it in the car earlier,” she said.

  “Are you both clear on what you are to do?” Donovan asked. They nodded in response. “Good. Paul, go ahead and pull the car around. I need to speak with Rachel alone for a moment.”

  After he left, Donovan moved closer to her. “Are you sure?” he asked her once more.

  “Yes,” she said. For a moment, she forgot all about the job, unable to focus with his body so close to hers. She wanted to grab his shirt, pull him closer, and kiss him. She restrained herself, knowing that nothing would be accomplished through such a scene.

  The ups and downs of not knowing how he felt about her, if he felt anything at all, frustrated her to no end. If only she could ask him why he violated her personal space every time they were alone together, why he intruded on her thoughts all day long, and why he wouldn’t let her rest at night as he invaded her dreams.

  His voice pulled her back into reality and reminded her of the task before her. “You realize how important this is.” It was not a question.

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll be entirely on your own. You won’t have contact with Paul at all. If anything goes wrong, he won’t be in a position to bail you out. With that in mind, don’t let Cox get control of the situation. You are to remain in charge at all times. Is that understood?”

  Rachel had heard the same warning several times before, but with the job looming over her, it sounded more severe this time. If she wasn’t careful every second, she could place herself in a dangerous situation. “Yes, I understand,” she said.

  “Stay confident and focused. No distractions. When the time comes, don’t think, just act.” He laid his hands on her shoulders and his mouth brushed against her cheek, his lips sweeping closer to her mouth than she expected. “Good luck, Rachel,” he said.

  “Last minute advice?” Paul asked, as she settled into the passenger side of the car.

  She touched her cheek where he had kissed her. “Something like that.”

  “I still don’t like the dress,” Paul mumbled, and drove the car away from the house.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Two hours later, Paul parked the car on a side street. Up a small hill to their right, a circular, stucco building interrupted the night sky. The stars illuminated the building and the concrete walkway surrounding it.

  Rachel had seen the building many times in photographs, but seeing it in real life put a lump in her throat and a weight on her chest. She wanted Paul to turn the car around and drive back to the safety of the estate, but she knew there was no use asking. Every opportunity she had to turn away from the job was now gone. She had no choice left but to go through with it.

  Oblivious to her internal struggle, Paul pointed to a door on the side of the building. “Right there is where you enter,” he said.

  The light above the door appeared burned out as a coincidence, but coincidence didn’t exist in her world. Everything about the job was planned down to the second, including the burned out light. Donovan had worked closely with Wilkes to ensure his men were as active in the job as she and Paul. His men arrived at the building earlier that morning, long before the rest of the city was awake, to cut the wires to the light and take care of other details of the job.

  “The door is unlocked,” Paul continued. “Remember the way you go in because you’ll come out that way, too. Try not to let anyone see you going in or leaving because they’ll be sure to remember you later since you’re not using the main entrance. Once you’re inside, find the restroom near the lobby. Stay in one of the stalls until the musical is over, then go into the lobby and get into the receiving line.”

  Rachel absorbed the details one last time.

  He handed Rachel a ticket stub to the musical and a hotel room keycard. “The ticket stub is in case someone asks. Slip the hotel keycard to Cox and meet me back here. You should be gone no longer than twenty-five minutes.”

  Rachel placed both the keycard and ticket stub in a clutch purs
e that also held a tube of lipstick and a compact mirror. She tucked the clutch under her arm, steadied her breath, and climbed out of the car.

  She entered through the door Paul indicated, and peered both ways down the halls. The building appeared empty. The attendees of that night’s play were enjoying the last scenes of the performance, but soon the hallways would fill with people and conversation.

  Rachel moved to the restroom and hid in the middle stall. The smell of antiseptic and the shine on the walls of the immaculate bathroom stall sparked a memory of a vacation to Disneyland with her parents the summer before they died. When they stopped off at a gas station during their road trip, Rachel raced to the bathroom.

  Inside the first stall, she found graffitied walls with language she had never heard before. Wide-eyed, she used the restroom and ran back to her mother, wishing she could undo what she saw, even though she wasn’t sure what most of the words meant.

  As Rachel waited in the stall for the musical to end, she wished she had some graffiti to help her pass the time in the stall. Instead, she only had her nerves to keep her company, and she second-guessed her role in the job. Doubts had not corroded one of her jobs before tonight, and she couldn’t let them get the best of her now.

  More than ever, she wanted to impress Donovan by making this job the smoothest they had ever done. She wanted to solidify herself as much more than a valuable asset to him. She only wished that he saw her as something more than an employee, as Eric pointed out last night. But a man like Donovan had a world of attractive and sophisticated women to choose from, women like Jill Wilkes. Eric was right. There was no need for Donovan to go near the hired help for companionship.

  Women filtered through the bathroom door to use the restroom and freshen their makeup. They conversed in rushed, gossiping tones about the musical’s handsome star, Jeff Cox. Rachel drew a shaky breath and removed the hotel keycard from her purse. She sealed her left hand around the keycard, gripping it like a tiny security blanket.

  She exited the stall unnoticed and found her way to the receiving line. All of the performers had changed into dresses and suits after the musical ended, and Rachel wondered what fantastic costumes they wore during their time on stage. She shook the hands of men and women she had never seen, and told them what a wonderful performance they gave in a musical she knew nothing about.

  As she neared the front of the line, she craned her neck to get a better view of Cox. He still had makeup from the play on his face, but it didn’t interrupt his ability to attract members of the opposite sex. A handsome man, Cox had blonde hair, blue eyes, and smooth features, but he exuded arrogance, even more so than Eric. Women almost fell over each other trying to shake his hand and grab his attention, while he appeared to regard them as objects created for his pleasure.

  Rachel bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud at the lustful scene. Many hotel room keycards enter his hands, which he dropped into a trashcan beside him after the adoring fan left his sight. Now she understood why Donovan insisted she wear such an alluring dress.

  Rachel transferred the keycard to her right hand when she reached the front of the line. Cox took her hand and she leaned into him. She whispered the name of the hotel in his ear in a husky tone. He took the keycard from her hand, and she walked toward the entrance, swishing her hips without overdoing it. She glanced back in time to see him slip the keycard in his suit pocket.

  “Well?” Paul asked when she returned to the car.

  “He took it.”

  “That doesn’t mean I changed my mind about the dress.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes, but didn’t let Paul bait her into a debate.

  At the hotel, she retrieved her bag from the trunk of the car. Holding the straps of her shoes between her fingers, she used a designated stairwell to climb to the fifth floor. At the top of the stairs, she slipped on her heels and took a special key out of her bag to gain access to a freight elevator.

  She rode the elevator to the closed restaurant on the twentieth floor. From there, she walked through the restaurant to a private elevator that waiters used to take room service up to the penthouse. Using a keycard similar to the one she gave Cox, she unlocked the penthouse door. She made her way down the lengthy entryway, her heels clicking against the flawless wood flooring.

  She had some time before Cox would come strutting through the door, so she familiarized herself with the penthouse. Though she had memorized the floor plan, Rachel’s meticulous side did not want any surprises once Cox showed up.

  From the entryway, Rachel entered a cozy sitting area. Two white sofas with delicate, stitched patterns were arranged in an L-shape around a glass table standing on iron, claw legs. The sitting area opened up to a much larger living room, with another couch, two light blue armchairs, and a luxurious chaise lounge. The dining area next to the living room boasted a dark wood table large enough to seat eight beneath a crystal chandelier.

  In both the living room and dining area, sheer blue curtains covered glass doors leading to the balcony, and abstract oil paintings graced the walls. A partially open door on her left revealed a white marble floor and Rachel imagined if she opened the door she would find the first of two bathrooms she remembered from the floor plans. The bedroom on her right, however, interested her more.

  Her eyes took in every detail of the bedroom. The finest of linens dressed the California king size bed, and she noted with approval the rails on the headboard of the bed. She placed her bag next to a telephone and reading lamp on an oak table in the front of the room. She pressed on the headboard, but could not make it touch the wall. Once Cox was there and on the bed, she didn’t want any unnecessary noise, despite her nearest neighbors being two floors down.

  With the stage set, she exited the bedroom and turned her attention to the balcony off the living room. She yanked back the curtains and the lights of the city greeted her. The balcony included another chaise lounge and several oversized chairs for relaxing under the stars.

  The door tempted her to go outside for a moment. She thought of the people the lights represented and wondered what they were doing. The world she stared out on greatly differed from the one she knew. There were times when late at night she would lie awake, dreaming about that world and what it would be like to go back.

  No distractions, Donovan’s voice reminded her. She needed to focus on the job and nothing else. She returned to the bedroom, removed her high heels, and sat down on the bed. There, she waited for Cox, and allowed Donovan’s voice to float through her mind without censor.

  An hour later, the door to the penthouse opened. She walked to the doorway and leaned against the frame. Jeff Cox slipped out of his coat and threw it over the side of the chaise lounge. His eyes journeyed over Rachel’s body and he grinned. “You’re even more beautiful than I originally thought,” he said. He started toward her, hunger gleaming in his eyes.

  Repulsed by his quick action, she shuffled backward into the bedroom and stayed a couple steps beyond his reach. He held his arms out to her, and Rachel tasted bile in the back of her throat. “I have a better idea,” she said. “Get on the bed.”

  He stepped out of his shoes and climbed onto the center of the bed. “Aren’t you coming over here?”

  Rachel went to her bag and took out two pairs of handcuffs. She tossed one pair onto the bed. “Put this on first.”

  He attached one of the cuffs to his wrist and snapped the other cuff onto the headboard without hesitation. She expected some resistance, but it seemed he had done this before.

  She walked around the bed and did the same to his other hand. She returned to her bag and pulled out a pair of gloves. She tugged them over her hands and reached back into her bag.

  “What are you getting now?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid you won’t like it too much.” She turned around and pointed a gun equipped with a suppressor at his head.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked.

  “Eight weeks ago you wer
e in Los Angeles, preparing for your musical. You met a woman named Jill at a bar near the performance hall. Sound familiar?”

  “Never heard of her.”

  “You went back to her condo with her, where you slipped drugs into her drink when she changed her mind about having sex with you. After you raped her, you stole a large jewelry box out of her room. The box contained hundreds of thousands of dollars of antique jewelry, which her mother had given her before she died two years ago.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “Jill identified you to her father, Graham Wilkes. He’s someone you don’t want to cross.”

  The terror in his eyes unmistakable, he asked, “Are you mafia?”

  The corner of her mouth turned upward. “No, I’m freelance.”

  “I didn’t do anything to this girl. I don’t even know who she is. I would never do anything to upset Graham Wilkes.”

  “I’m not here to listen to your pathetic denials. We both know what you did. Wilkes wanted me to cut off your little friend and bring it back to him on a silver platter. I convinced him we should let you stay intact, but only if you tell me where the jewelry is. These are his wife’s family heirlooms. I’m sure you understand his motivations behind wanting them back.”

  His lips tightened.

  “Fine, have it your way.” She reached into the bag and took out the hunting knife she borrowed from Paul.

  “Okay! It’s at my home. Look, I took the jewelry box, but I didn’t rape her. It was consensual.” Cox raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Why don’t you put down the knife?” Even though his eyes remained fearful, his tone changed to one of seduction. “I can show you why she loved every minute of being with me. I have a feeling you’re a bit more feisty than she is.”

  His words disgusted Rachel, but she pretended to consider his offer and walked to the foot of the bed. She ran her tongue over her lips and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you tell me where the jewelry is, and we then can see about the rest? You are already tied up, after all. No one ever has to find out. You can keep a secret, right?”