Domino

by Chris Barnhart

  Virginia was thankful for that today. She did not want to face Morgan just yet. Her head ached from the lack of sleep the night before and her nerves were on edge. There was still a lot of planning to be done, things that had to be meticulously set up and ready to go before she handed Morgan Wolfe her resignation.

  Hours of lying in the dark, thinking, planning, tuning the events of the night over and over in her mind, Virginia had come to one conclusion. If Clarissa lived, Morgan was finished. Her testimony would lop one of the many heads off the international crime syndicate in which Morgan was a major partner. The time to get out was now, before the empire crumbled and took her down along with it. The inevitable destruction had already been set in motion with the murder of Avery Roth. The hairline cracks were spreading too fast. Morgan had first blundered when he underestimated the resilience of the Roth brothers. No one ever succeeded in trying to run from Morgan, let alone try to turn the tables on him. It was rumored that Avery was taking two million out of the country with him. But that would not have caused Morgan to do any killing. That was petty cash to Morgan. Virginia had to smile at Avery Roth. Avery had something on Morgan Wolfe. Hard evidence of some kind that caused Morgan to take a step he would never had otherwise. Virginia's bet was that the Roth brothers had somehow found proof of Morgan's ties to the Sobrieto or Lu cartels and were threatening to go to the federal authorities with it.

  Whatever it was, it was dangerous enough to Morgan for him to be at Byron Roth's execution. He must already be under tremendous pressure to chance being directly involved in the murder. The longer Clarissa stayed hidden, the worse the pressure would pile up on Morgan until it began to crush him.

  Virginia knew with a sickening reality exactly what Morgan Wolfe would do. He would dismantle his end of the cartel and go underground. Untraceable, buried deep, to resurface later with a new identity and a new empire. First, all of the old ties to him would have to be eliminated, one by one, beginning with the weakest link. Virginia would be near the top of that list.

  Her own survival depended on beating Morgan into hiding. She had to make the break immediately, cleanly, and secretly. The longer she could keep Clarissa hidden, the easier her own escape would be. If she was found out, Clarissa would be her ace in the hole, her bargaining chip, the sacrificial lamb.

  Morgan would never let Virginia just quit. He had threatened in a joking manner several times that he could not do without her and for her own safety, she should not even consider other employment offers. The veiled threats scared her. Not that she had ever wanted to leave him. He was more than an employer. He knew that and used it expertly. But the hate had grown, slowly and unmistakably over the years until the trap had become worse than the love. It was a one sided, emotionally draining love, a love that was eating her inside. Now, there was so little left to cushion against the fear.

  She had to do it now, while she still had some grasp on her life. The fact that she was even thinking of leaving Morgan Wolfe was proof enough that her sanity dangled by a thin thread. She thought again of Avery Roth and wondered if her ace was stronger than what Avery had on Morgan. She probably would never know and she suddenly shivered with a chill.

  Virginia was on the brink of her own private abyss. She had looked into her future and saw only an endless void. To change that future would take a drastic move, a gamble for all or nothing. Freedom or death. Until Clarissa Hayden appeared on her doorstep, Virginia had accepted her fate, succumbed to Morgan's web.

  Virginia knew she had to have everything planned to the smallest detail. The timing was crucial. She had wired Andrew Hayden at the American oil company offices in Cairo for a plane ticket and a thousand dollars in cash that Clarissa would never see. It should arrive by Monday. Then she would wait for the first opportunity to catch an outbound plane. During the scheduled lay over in London, she was going to fence Clarissa's diamonds to a Saudi dealer that she was certain Morgan knew nothing about. From London, she would never make the connecting flight to the Middle East but planned to lose herself in the small hamlets of Europe with almost a half million in cash and a new identity.

  Virginia had run the plan over in her mind all night. She checked and rechecked it for flaws and pitfalls. She wasn't greedy. Although she had access to several minor expense accounts from which she made purchases for Morgan, she decided not to touch any of them. She would not be foolish enough to try to blackmail Morgan. She had her own stash of ready cash hidden in the cardboard core of a roll of plastic wrap in her kitchen pantry amounting to seven thousand dollars in hundred dollar denominations. She would not risk even making a withdrawal from her own savings accounts. Morgan had his ways of finding out about bank activity and transfers.

  Everything depended on secrecy. Virginia had to keep her nerves in tact until everything was firmly in place. Then she could slip away. She wanted to just leave without a problem. She really did not want any harm to come to Clarissa but the poor woman was probably as good as dead anyway. When Virginia managed to get away successfully, Clarissa was on her own. Morgan would eventually find his witness and that was Clarissa's problem. If he didn't, well, the woman had kept herself alive this far against the odds. She would have pulled off the impossible and witness something no one close to Morgan ever would; his downfall.

  Virginia parked the Mercedes in her usual spot next to the garage and went around by a brick path to the rear of the house and the french doors to Morgan's den. She paused for a moment near the swimming pool, the place where Clarissa had said the shooting took place. There was nothing unusual, nothing disturbed. No visible blood stains and the water in the pool was crystal clear. A twinge of doubt flicked at Virginia, then she brushed it off. Clarissa could not have lied, otherwise Morgan would not have left the message on her answering machine about Clarissa on drugs. The nagging doubt persisted. What if Clarissa was high last night and made up the story? Clarissa's physical appearance and extreme nervousness last night could have been drug induced. Virginia was not experienced enough to tell. What if there had been no murder and Morgan could care less if Clarissa came home or not? Virginia pushed the thought out of her mind. Clarissa didn't seem the drug user type and Morgan probably wouldn't care that much if she was. But last night he cared what happened to her. He wanted her dead. The shredded bags of bullet-riddled clothes in her trunk were proof positive. Clarissa had to have been telling the truth.

  Virginia let herself into the den/office with her key. She checked Morgan's appointment schedule. He had a racquetball game at nine this morning with Theo Barnett of Barnett Industries. That would give her time to finish whatever Morgan wanted her to do and be out of the house before he returned. Virginia slipped off her shoes, turned on the computer terminal, and read Morgan's message on her e-mail. "Steadman meeting moved up to Tuesday morning, ten o'clock in New York. Need project proposal revisions typed by Monday morning. Then I need the contracts on the Baylor Lodge construction project done immediately to take with me for a meeting in Washington D.C. on Wednesday. Have a good weekend."

  Her heart leaped. She would not have to go to New York with Morgan on Monday afternoon. If Clarissa's brother sent the plane ticket and the cash, Tuesday would be the perfect day to make her escape. She would not have to face Morgan with her resignation. She could just get on a plane and disappear before Morgan returned to Los Angeles. Virginia's excitement was hard to contain and she smiled as she brought up the Steadman file on the computer screen and dug her revision notes out of the file cabinet. She worked for nearly three hours on a business proposal that should have taken her only two. Her mind kept drifting to her plans, what she would take with her, and from what airport she should leave.

  John Wayne Airport in Orange County or Ontario Airport seemed the most logical. Or maybe leave from an airport even farther away like San Diego or Las Vegas. Los Angeles International would be the first place Morgan would look if he discovered her plan before she got out of the city. She had to rent a car to get to the airport, as all Morg
an's cars had radio transceivers and could be located by the signal they emitted. That was no problem. She could rent the car Monday morning as soon as she put Morgan on his private jet. Then she could......

  "Morning."

  Morgan stood holding open the den's double oak doors. He was dressed in white slacks and a powder blue polo shirt, his black hair still damp from the shower. Virginia's heart was pounding as he studied her intently, then smiled.

  "Steadman proposal?" She nodded. "I didn't mean to startle you. You alright, Virginia? You look tired."

  "I didn't sleep very good last night, Morgan," she replied in a strong a voice as she could muster. "It was rainy and my asthma bothered me a little. Radio said there was another front moving in today. Might get some thunderstorms. Besides, I did a pretty intense workout on the treadmill just before bed. Bad idea."

  "You don't have central heat and air conditioning in that place of yours? That would take the dampness out of the air."

  "You know I don't like to run that too often," Virginia said, gaining a foothold on her composure. "It dries my skin out."

  Morgan continued to scrutinize her as he closed the den doors and walked slowly toward her. She tensed slightly but managed a smile.

  "You usually don't work on Saturdays," she reached up and patted his hands as he stood behind her and laid them heavily on her shoulders. "I'm surprised to see you here. No game?"

  "Postponed to later this afternoon. Couldn't get a court this morning." He began to slowly massage her neck and shoulders. No one dared to refuse Morgan anything at the sports club. If Morgan had been the one to move the game to the afternoon, then Clarissa's disappearance was getting critical. Virginia's fingers clicked over the computer keyboard, apprehensive that Morgan could feel the tautness of her muscles underneath the red silk blouse. Silently, she chided herself when she made a typing error and had to go back and correct it. She willed herself to relax, to slow her fingers, conscious that Morgan was not only watching, but studying her every move.

  "Do you want to go over what I've done so far on the Steadman contract?" she asked, as she saved the partially completed file and gave the computer the "print" command.

  "Yes," he whispered in her ear as he leaned down and kissed her neck below her ear. She prayed that the warm sensation of his touch masked the slight shiver that escaped her control.

  "How did Miss Hayden like the necklace?" Virginia inquired as Morgan ran his fingers along her throat and down into the front of her blouse. She swallowed involuntarily.

  "She hasn't been home for me to ask," Morgan replied. "She promised me no more drugs. I'm disappointed. She probably took off with someone at that party. I'll send Marco to get her later today."

  The suddenly terror was like a slap across the face but Virginia could not move. She fought desperately to maintain her usual aloofness and poise. To send Marco for someone had always meant a death sentence. Did Morgan already know? Was he toying with her? He turned her around in the swivel chair and took hold of both her hands. Gently, he drew her to her feet and pulled her close to him. He kissed her and she let herself be drawn into the passion of his kisses. He studied her again, looking into her eyes and holding her gaze to him like a vice. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Virginia struggled to hide the unaccustomed vulnerability as his dark eyes bore into her. She managed to summon enough inner strength to parry his scrutiny with an alluring smile.

  "She'll turn up, Morgan." She always does. I just didn't know about her habit."

  Morgan cupped one of her bare breasts in his hand and exerted just a little pressure. "She hasn't called you has she?" The pressure increased slightly. Virginia gathered her reserves again and met Morgan's intense gaze head on.

  "We're not exactly close," she said, adding as much contempt to her voice as she dared. "That's why I was a little apprehensive about picking out the necklace. I wasn't sure she'd like it." As soon as it was out of her mouth, Virginia realized it had been the wrong thing to say. It had always been her responsibility to buy the gifts. Morgan was amused that she had done so without any regard to whether the women would like them or not. It was just a requirement of the job that Virginia detested. Damned what the women thought.

  Morgan slipped the red silk off of Virginia's shoulders. It floated to the floor. "You have excellent taste. I'm sure she was thrilled."

  He took her face in both of his hands and pressed his mouth hard on hers. It gave her no time to recover her bearing. His thumbs slid down her throat and she tried not to react to the pressure he applied. Her mind reeled and she knew what her responses should be. She had made love to this man for ten years, knew what he wanted, what was expected of her. Her hands seemed almost paralyzed at her sides. She forced them to move, to caress his thighs and hips, raking her nails gently up his back under his shirt. The movements were jerky and stiff and she cursed herself and the fear that tensed every muscle. She could not make the movements fluid and she was certain that Morgan could sense her terror, her guilt.

  Her hands moved methodically as she undressed him, keeping her eyes averted from his, focusing her mind on the leanness of his well-muscled body. She closed her eyes when he kissed and caressed her, lifted her easily and laid her gently on the sofa. He slipped one hand behind her head and coiled his long finger in her raven hair. With the other, he removed her jeans. She flinched when he ran his hand along her inner thigh and the moan that escaped her lips was not from pleasure.

  "Morgan," she whispered as his fingers tightened in her hair and he ran his tongue between both of her breasts and down her stomach. He knew. His touch stripped away the protective layers of her soul she had so carefully fortified in the last few hours. In the heat of passion Virginia's resolve melted away like ice in the sun. The confession was on her lips. She ached to admit her guilt and be free of this ordeal. Her mind screamed to tell him where she had hidden Clarissa, where he would find the jewels, her plans to run away. He suspected everything anyway. Morgan always got what he wanted.

  "Morgan...." The words would not come. They were stuck in her throat, imbedded in her private terror. She lay beneath him almost without feeling, empty except for the agonizing apprehension and shattered nerves. When his touch was smooth and tender, not the harshness she expected, she began to relax. She dug her nails into the cushion of the sofa, felt him go rigid with the intensity of his ecstasy.

  He left her lying on the sofa, without a word. She wanted to cry with relief in the silence of the den but could not. Virginia could think of nothing except the last few minutes. Their lovemaking had seemed no different than it had been for the last decade. Morgan was no more loving or distant, he had been only the Morgan she knew. She dared to believe that her secret was still safe. The longer she lay there, the more she convinced herself that her fear had been created in her own mind. Morgan may have suspected she had heard from Clarissa but she was sure she had given nothing away. Solace flooded through her like a cool breeze.

  Morgan watched the blue Mercedes as it went out the gates onto the canyon road just as thunder rolled across the darkened sky and the first spattering of rain dotted the driveway. He leaned back in the leather chair at his desk and lit a pipe. Smoke curled up and around the small desk lamp that burned a yellow sphere, disturbing the grayness of the afternoon.

  Marco dislodged himself from the shadows and slid silently into a chair opposite Wolfe. Morgan's gaze remained fixed on the rain dotted window. The stillness was long and thoughtful. Marco waited, knowing not to disturb Morgan.

  "I have the Steadman meeting on Tuesday," Morgan finally said. "I want this Clarissa thing cleared up by then. It should not have gone this long. Call McKinnon."

  "I can take care of this, Mister Wolfe. No need to call in outside help.

  "Clarissa knows your face, Marco. It'll take longer to get close to her, where ever she's hiding. I need this taken care of yesterday. We can't wait. Get McKinnon."

  "That's risky," said Marco. "We haven't worked before with that connect
ion."

  "McKinnon is the best and the fastest. That's the word."

  "But not controllable. Too independent. Works alone."

  "Right now, that's the best way. I don't want you any more involved than locating Clarissa's whereabouts and setting up McKinnon to do the hit."

  "Yes, Mister Wolfe."

  "When the job's done?"

  "Mails you a body part from the victim. Usually fingers, toes, something small and discrete. Gets the rest of the money within twelve hours to a drop in a numbered account in the Caymans."

  "Or?"

  "Your toes get mailed to your next of kin," Marco grinned.

  Morgan laughed out loud. "We'll pay McKinnon. I don't want any mementos. I want it done in no more twenty four hours."

  "I'll make the call."

  "What's the price?"

  "Quarter of a million last I heard. Half up front to the Arizona drop."

  "Make the down payment first thing tomorrow morning. I'll advance the cash then make a cash transfer through Jasper Electronics Monday morning."

  "Do we have any idea where Clarissa might be?"

  Morgan's gaze turned again to the window and he tapped the pipe against his lip pensively. "I believe we can find out without too much of a problem."

  "Mister Wolfe?" Marco said questioningly.

  "Pay a visit to Virginia tonight," Morgan said. "Take Alex Rogers with you. See what you can find out."

  "Alex went to La Jolla to track down Clarissa's friend Hugo from the hair salon," Marco told him. "He ain't back yet."

  "Don't wait for him. We need to know where Clarissa is tonight."

  "What do you expect me to find at Virginia's? Those women weren't exactly friends."

  "Whatever you can," Morgan said. "Do whatever you have to."

  “My pleasure, Mr. Wolfe,” Marco grinned.