“No, but Jonas will probably be trying to call me.” She couldn’t believe she’d gone off without the phone. Apparently the fog in her brain from last night hadn’t completely disappeared.
“So, he won’t be able to reach you until you get back home. What’s the problem?”
Indeed? What was the problem? She leaned her head back against the seat thoughtfully. Was it such a crime if Jonas didn’t know her every movement, her exact whereabouts at all times of the day or night?
What other person her age had a parent figure checking up on them every couple of hours each day? She had to gain some independence in order to grow. Suddenly she didn’t care that Jonas couldn’t get ahold of her.
All too quickly they were back at the club. The only car in the lot was hers. “So, what’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked as he parked next to her car.
“Nothing particular,” she replied. “What about you?”
“I’m on security duty at noon today.”
“Then I’ve taken up too much of your time already.” She opened the passenger door and grabbed her purse from the seat between them. “Thanks again, Nick.”
“No problem, and Lynn…if you remember asking me for a kiss last night, do you also remember what my response was?”
His eyes were dark and provocative as he held her gaze.
“That you’d kiss me when I was sober and could remember everything about the kiss.” She repeated the words he’d said to her the night before.
He nodded, that sexy grin sweeping over his lips. “You just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll be more than happy to oblige you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
Minutes later as she drove back toward home, her thoughts were filled with Nick Barnes. She tried to tell herself that he was probably just being kind, being sociable to the boss’s daughter, but she knew it was more than that.
He didn’t look at her as the boss’s daughter. He looked at her as an attractive, desirable woman. Besides, surely he knew that sucking up to her would get him nowhere with Uncle Jonas.
Lynn recognized she was fairly naive in the arena of dating. Although she’d dated several men over the last couple of years, most of those dates had been arranged by Jonas for social events they were attending all together.
She’d met a few guys at college but nobody who affected her like Nick did. Her attraction to him was visceral, but that wasn’t all there was to it.
For some reason she found him easy to talk to, didn’t feel the suffocating shyness with him, and that merely increased her attraction to him.
He’d said he’d like to take her dancing sometime, and she was disappointed that he hadn’t made any real date with her.
She shoved thoughts of him out of her mind and instead thought of the new job Jonas had pointed out to her, the recovery of the solid-gold vase that was on display at the Markham Center.
She’d spent much of the day yesterday on the Internet studying the floor plans of the building and reading up on anything she could find concerning the Markham Convention Center. There wasn’t a computer file in the world she couldn’t access, and she’d pulled up everything she could find on the convention center.
From studying the material she knew how to get in and out of the building and knew exactly what she had to do to retrieve the vase once inside. She’d done her homework and planned to execute the recovery that night.
The weather report predicted clouds moving in, and a cloudy night was perfect for her to do her work. Maybe by focusing on the work she loved, she’d stop thinking about Nick Barnes.
Jonas White stood at the window in his hotel room in Paris, the telephone pressed to his ear. He listened as Richard Dunst updated him on some of their business dealings. They were careful about what they said, knowing that Jonas was under FBI investigation and land phone lines could be tapped.
“I smell a romance brewing,” Dunst said, when they’d finished their business talk.
“A romance? What are you talking about?”
“Lynn. She apparently has a new suitor. I saw her leaving this morning to take a drive with him.”
Jonas tightened his grip on the receiver. So, this was probably why she hadn’t answered his calls that morning. A sick tension began to twist in his gut. “Somebody from her classes?”
“No. It’s Nick.”
“Nick? Nick Barnes?” Jonas frowned thoughtfully, relieved somewhat. At least this was a situation he could control. The tension in his gut ebbed as his mind whirled.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Nick had finally noticed Lynn was a lovely young woman. And Nick was certainly not hard to look at himself, so it shouldn’t surprise him that Lynn might be interested in the handsome head of security.
“I’ll handle that situation when I get back to the States,” he said to Dunst. “Meanwhile you need to focus on our other project. I’ll be back within the week and I hope you’ll have some good news for me.”
Jonas disconnected the call and sat on the edge of the king-size bed, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He knew he was under investigation by the FBI. He’d been under investigation ever since they tied him to drug smuggler Marshall Carrington. So far they hadn’t been able to prove anything but he was definitely on their radar.
The FBI surveillance was also the reason he tried to be out of the States whenever Lynn was going to retrieve a treasure. He made sure he could never be tied to the theft of those precious items.
If the FBI interest wasn’t enough, there was a possibility that James Whitlow wouldn’t win his bid for reelection as president of the United States in November. Ever since that bitch reporter, Tory Patton, had done an exposé of Whitlow’s questionable campaign money, Whitlow had lost the support of many of his constituents.
Jonas had donated a huge amount of money to Whitlow’s campaign and had slipped in some funding from a drug lord he’d done business with in the past. That source of funds had created a blackmail tool that had put Jonas in the driver’s seat. He’d been able to gently “persuade” the current administration to push legislation that was favorable to his interests.
If Whitlow lost the election in November, then Jonas would lose his power base in the White House. The thought of losing power was enough to put Jonas in a foul mood.
He got up from the bed and paced back and forth across the expanse of lush beige carpeting. The project Dunst was working on was to find a buyer for the diamond Lynn had lifted several days ago. Jonas was confident the sale would occur without a hitch.
Once again he stopped at the window and stared outside, where he could see in the distance the Eiffel Tower rising up against a cloudy sky. But his thoughts weren’t on the pleasures of Paris.
He was worried about Lynn. Never had she questioned him about the work they did the way she had the other night. The intelligence she possessed that was such an asset just might eventually become a liability.
It wasn’t just her intelligence he worried about. He’d always known that she would grow up, that she’d want a relationship with a man. He’d dreaded the moment that might occur, had known it would be the beginning of a loss of control for him.
At least according to Dunst it was Nick he had to worry about instead of a classmate or stranger that he knew nothing about.
He’d been thinking about bringing Nick into the fold, allowing him more responsibility, more access to the inner workings of his business dealings. Maybe now was the time for that.
Surely in the last couple of days Nick and Lynn hadn’t developed a relationship so close that she would have told him about her special powers. He hoped his warnings to her from the time she was a mere toddler would keep her from sharing that particular information with anyone.
Lynn had always been malleable and trusting concerning the work Jonas had her doing. She believed that each time she “retrieved” an artifact or jewel she was doing something good and altruistic. He didn’t want anything or an
yone to change that.
Somehow he’d manage to deal with the questions she asked and assuage any doubts she might entertain about their work. She was his golden goose, stealing treasures and allowing him to fill his coffers with money. He would do and say whatever necessary to keep her working for him.
He smiled. Lynn had been his best, his finest acquisition.
If he found out that she’d told Nick about her work and about her unusual skills, and if Nick became a problem, then Jonas would do what was necessary to solve the problem.
Nick Barnes was expendable. If he wound up on the beach somewhere with a bullet in his head, the authorities would probably assume his murder had to do with his background, with the organized crime family he’d turned his back on.
Jonas left the window and walked over to the minibar, where he fixed himself a scotch on the rocks. He shouldn’t be surprised that Lynn was testing her feminine wiles on a man. Jonas had been lucky she hadn’t experienced any real, deep relationship in the past.
Maybe he should encourage this romance between her and Nick. At least Jonas could control the situation better if the suitor was Nick. Nick would have two choices. He could either go along with the program or he could wind up dead.
Chapter 5
Lynn stood at her bedroom window and looked out. The night was dark, with thick cloud cover obscuring any moonlight that might try to shine down to earth.
Perfect, she thought as she left the window. It was just after midnight and she was ready to leave. Clad in a black pair of tight stretch slacks and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, she grabbed the stocking cap and a backpack of equipment from her bed and left the room.
Adrenaline pumped through her as she silently made her way down the stairs. She knew Rita and Arturo would be sound asleep.
She slipped as soundlessly as a shadow through the house out the mudroom door, then hurried across the driveway to where her car awaited her. She was focused solely on the task ahead. Get in, get the vase and get out.
Moments later, as she drove toward the Markham Convention Center, her thoughts raced to the job ahead. There was much about her work that she didn’t understand.
She hated feeling like a thief, but Jonas had assured her many times that these thefts were secretly sanctioned by the government. He’d told her that it was important that he remain as distant from their work as possible, that as a wealthy businessman he’d made political enemies that could make life difficult for him if it was discovered what he and Lynn did.
He had also explained to her countless times that the local authorities weren’t aware of the government involvement, and if she were caught she would be treated like a common criminal until the appropriate authorities could be contacted. However, he’d always assured her that the worst she could expect was a couple of hours in jail cooling her heels.
This made her all the more careful in the planning stages of each retrieval. The last thing she wanted was to get caught, arrested and taken down to a jail cell even if she’d only be there until the matter could be resolved.
Besides, if she were honest with herself she’d have to confess that she loved the challenge of this work. She loved using her natural skills and intelligence to do something few real thieves would even attempt.
It was a matter of pride that she not get caught and hauled into a police station like a common criminal.
The Markham Convention Center was one of several buildings in a block on the south side of Miami. The buildings were specifically used by large groups holding conventions or for special-interest groups holding exhibits open to the public.
Because normally the place was used for business conventions and not exclusively for exhibits, the security wasn’t terrific. There were alarms at the doors and security guards who walked the perimeter, but that was it.
The exhibit going on now was advertised as Treasures from the Nile and touted as being one of the best collections of artifacts and archeological finds from Egypt.
Lynn had been to the Markham Convention Center often in the past. Whenever there was an exhibit of something she found interesting, she attended. During those frequent visits she’d gotten a good feel for the layout of the place, and that was vital for her plans this evening.
There was little traffic on the streets at midnight despite the fact that it was a Saturday night. It was too late for club-goers to be just arriving at clubs and far too early for them to be heading home.
She parked on a residential street three blocks from the convention center. There she left the car and started off on foot, the navy backpack slung over her shoulder and her stocking cap in her pocket.
The street she walked down was quiet, the houses dark while the occupants slept. Occasionally she’d see the flicker of dim lights and could imagine a couple in the house all cuddled up on the sofa watching a late-night movie on television.
What would it be like to have that kind of life? To have somebody beside you who cared about you, somebody who was there when you needed him? Not a godfather but a lover. That’s what she often thought about in the dark hours of night when loneliness pressed so close against her.
She certainly wasn’t going to find a romantic relationship through her e-mail or by surfing the Net. She was always conscious that those friendly relationships were built on a premise of anonymity. A person she thought to be a twenty-seven-year-old businessman could just as easily be a lonely ninety-year-old man or a hormone-driven teenager.
A block from her goal, she left the residential streets behind and walked behind a small strip mall. She would approach the convention center from the back.
She was guessing there would be no guards at the back of the building. A solid ten-foot-high concrete wall provided all the security needed at the back of the building.
At the front of the building there were two spotlights that shone day and night on the front facade, making a frontal attack dangerous. At the back there were no lights at all, and without moonlight it was a thick darkness that enveloped the area around the concrete wall.
Lynn crouched at the foot of the wall and used her acute hearing to assess her surroundings. Insects filled the air with night songs of clicking and buzzing, and in the distance a dog barked.
Lynn hoped there weren’t any guard dogs in the convention center. She rarely encountered guard dogs and didn’t want to ever encounter them again while doing this work.
Dogs scared her. It was a totally irrational fear, bred from a single incident that had occurred when she’d been ten years old. A friend of Jonas’s had come to the house carrying his pet poodle in his arms. He’d put the dog down, and the poodle had taken one look at Lynn and run to her and bitten her on the ankle.
It hadn’t been a bad bite, had barely broken the skin, but from that moment on Lynn had been frightened of dogs.
She placed her ear against the concrete wall. She heard no sniffing, no snorting, nor did she smell anything that would indicate there were guard dogs on the other side.
She stood and shrugged off the backpack. She pulled the stocking cap out of her pocket and pulled it on, hiding her hair beneath. Gloves came next, the thin latex kind that didn’t impede movement but kept fingerprints from showing up.
She retrieved a penlight and Swiss Army knife from the backpack but ignored the rope and grappling hook. She would use those only if necessary.
She was hoping that by using the tremendous power in her legs she could spring to the top of the concrete wall without the aid of the hook and rope. She hid her backpack beneath a nearby bush, then returned to the wall.
Listening once again to make certain she heard no sounds that would portend trouble, she squatted, gathered her strength and sprang straight up the wall. Her hands grabbed the top of the wall and she hung for a moment, gathering her strength to pull herself up and over. One…two…three, she thought, then hoisted herself to the top.
The wall itself was about eighteen inches wide and four feet or so from the back of the building. S
he jumped to the ground below, once again crouching as she listened for anything amiss.
Just ahead of her on the back of the building was a vent cover. It was small, but not so tiny that she couldn’t get through it. She knew from studying the plans for the building that the vent would lead into the mechanical room, the room that held the furnace, air conditioner and the hot water tanks. This was her way in.
Turning on her penlight, she shone it toward where she thought the vent should be. Sure enough, there it was, connected to the building by six Phillips screws. She pulled the Swiss Army knife from her pocket and shut off the penlight. Using her fingers to guide her, she carefully unfastened the screws and loosened the vent cover.
When she was finished, she replaced the knife in her pocket along with the screws, then once again pulled out her penlight. Shining it into the vent she saw that it was exactly what she’d been looking for. The vent led into a dark room where she could hear the hum of the air conditioner at work.
She slid through the vent without any problems and landed soundlessly on the floor inside. With her penlight she checked out her surroundings.
She was exactly where she wanted to be. A door was just ahead and she was pleased to see that it locked from the inside. Apparently the janitorial staff used keys to get in and out of here. Besides the furnace and water heaters, the room also held a small desk where apparently the janitors took their breaks and stole an occasional puff on a cigarette. She could smell the lingering scent of old tobacco.
The Markham Convention Center was comprised of six different rooms besides the kitchen and various rest rooms. Each room had its own name. The owner of the Markham Convention Center had a thing for the golden years of Hollywood.
The largest room, the Bogart Room, was the one typically used for huge gatherings. Next to the Bogart Room was the Hepburn Room, another large area. Doors between these two rooms could be opened to create a space big enough to hold any group that might want to use this facility.
Athena Force 7: Deceived Page 6
