No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery)

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No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) Page 30

by Julie Moffett


  For a minute I paced the room, my hand pressed tight to my forehead, thinking. Neutralizing Finn was going to be more challenging than I’d anticipated. Stay calm, Lexi. If I removed my emotions from this unnerving development and looked at this objectively, uncovering Finn’s secret life didn’t change much. I’d planned to ditch him anyway. The key was to keep him thinking I was clueless so I could use this to my advantage. And playing clueless just happened to be one of my more impressive strengths.

  I shut down the computer, scooped up the papers where I had worked the code and methodically ripped them into tiny pieces that would flush down the toilet. I’d develop a plan to neutralize Finn, but first I needed a hot shower and some clean clothes.

  I stripped and soaked my aches in the bathtub before soaping up and shampooing my hair with one hand. Then making the water as hot as I could stand, I used the detachable showerhead to rinse off.

  Afterwards I combed out my hair, leaving it loose so it could dry, and pulled on the wrinkled white T-shirt and jeans. My wrist felt better from the soak, and I was able to flex my fingers a bit. I refastened the sling and went back to the room where Finn had still not returned. Good, because I hadn’t yet figured out how to keep him from mucking up my plans.

  I sat down on the side of the bed and then realized my throat was dry. Maybe I’d take walk around a bit and see if I could buy a bottle of water somewhere.

  I grabbed the room key and walked out the door, nearly running over my next-door neighbor exiting her room. She had platinum hair with pink streaks and was dressed in a spiked collar and black leather dress, with a pair of handcuffs dangling from a belt around her waist. A row of earrings dotted each ear and a matching one glinted in her right nostril. When she opened her mouth, I saw a stud on her tongue. As I stood there staring at her dumbly, a whole crew of punks spilled out into the hallway, laughing and jostling each other. It was just my luck that I’d booked the only hotel in Stockholm that was apparently hosting a punk convention.

  “Uh, hi. Do you speak English?”

  “Sure, I went to Oxford,” she said in perfect clipped English with only the faintest trace of a Scandinavian lilt.

  “Do you know where I could get a bottle of water and some ice?”

  “You must be American.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Oh, yes. The café at the corner will probably have some if you’re willing to pay.”

  She smiled as one of the other guys came up beside her. He was tall and skinny, and like the others, dressed completely in black leather. His hair was dyed magenta, and he had two stud rings in his nose, a large silver hoop in one ear and a collar with metal spikes around his neck and both wrists. It was a good thing he was smiling all friendlylike because if not, I’d have run screaming the other direction.

  “This is Manfred,” the girl said. “I’m Annika.”

  “Um, nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Lexi.”

  Manfred clicked his boots together and saluted me, and as he did it, he jingled. I saw he also wore a pair of handcuffs attached to his belt. I wondered if they carried them to make a fashion statement or wanted to be prepared for some kind of weird, kinky sex.

  A light bulb popped in my head. Weird kinky sex! That was it. It would be the perfect idea to neutralize Finn. But first I had to part one of these young punks from their handcuffs, and I wasn’t certain it would be an easy thing.

  I pasted a bright smile on my mouth. “This may sound like a strange request, but would either of you be willing to sell me your handcuffs?”

  They looked at me as if they hadn’t heard me right. “Handcuffs?” Annika finally asked.

  I pointed to the pair attached to Manfred’s belt. “Would you be willing to sell those to me?”

  Both she and Manfred kept staring at me in open-mouthed amazement. I could tell by their expressions they didn’t make me as the type who used handcuffs.

  “Have you ever used them before?” Annika asked me.

  I put one hand on my hip and tried to look cool, knowledgeable and relaxed…a handcuff connoisseur. “Sure…sort of.”

  “It will be difficult with your hand hurt,” Manfred finally said.

  I looked down at my wrist and flexed my fingers. “Actually, it’s feeling better. And the cuffs aren’t for me anyway.”

  Manfred said something to Annika in what I assumed was Swedish and she shrugged. “Fifty dollars,” she said.

  “Fifty dollars? Are you nuts?”

  “It will be worth every dollar,” Manfred promised me. “He will like them very much. Mine are extra long and not so easy to find.”

  I couldn’t help it; I blushed. Yeah, I was the real handcuff master all right. “Twenty,” I countered.

  “Thirty and we deal.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” I returned to the room, peeled off three tens and returned to Annika and Manfred. He’d already taken the cuffs off his belt and they dangled freely in his hand. Annika took the cash and Manfred handed them to me, along with a small key.

  “By the way I saw your bloke in the hall,” Annika said, winking. “Quite a bobby-dazzler. I think he’ll have fun.”

  I didn’t know what a bobby-dazzler was, but nodded like I did. “Uh, yeah, and that reminds me,” I said. “There is a chance that my bobby-dazzler may, ah, complain a bit at first when I use them. You know, yell for help or something. But if you hear anything, just ignore it. I’ll take care of him. It will be all part of the game.”

  “Cool,” Manfred said, looking at me with what I was pretty sure was admiration. I felt my stomach go a little queasy and hoped I wasn’t giving him the impression that all Americans were as perverted as me.

  “We won’t be around anyway,” Annika assured me. “Tonight is the big concert with Rancid Duck. We’ll be out all night. Have fun.”

  They waved and walked down the corridor. I took my thirty-dollar handcuffs back to the room and attached one side to the bedpost and hid the other side down behind the back of the bed, the cuff open. I sincerely hoped Finn wouldn’t find the cuffs, but even if he did, I could play dumb. Like maybe they came complimentary with the room or something.

  Finn returned about thirty minutes later, probably from giving his bosses a full report on our activities. I suppressed my desire to smack his handsome face because it was imperative he not notice my feelings toward him had changed. His lengthy absence had actually been welcome since in addition to the handcuffs, it had given me time to get water, a map of Stockholm and directions to Djurgarden Island.

  “Anything interesting on email?” he asked, sitting down on the bed.

  “Not a thing,” I lied. “Where’d you go for so long?”

  “I took a walk and got some fresh air. Are you hungry yet?”

  “Actually I’m famished.”

  “Good, let’s go get something.”

  We headed out the door and Finn locked up. “So now that we’re here, what’s the next step?” he asked.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let you know that I’m meeting Basia tomorrow evening,” I said even though I was actually meeting her tonight.

  He looked surprised. “You’ve been in touch with her already?”

  “Not here. When I was back in the States. She set up a rendezvous point.”

  “Where?”

  “Sorry, that’s on a need-to know basis. No more questions for the time being, okay?”

  He didn’t look happy about it but to his credit, he didn’t press.

  We found an outdoor café not far from the hotel. Finn had the fishballs, called fiskbullar in Swedish, and I tried the crayfish. It was delicious.

  “I take it you’ve been to Sweden before,” I said, setting my fork down and leaning back in my chair.

  “Several times. I like it very much.”

  “I’m clearly not as cosmopolitan. This is only my second trip abroad. My first time was an eighth-grade trip to Paris.”

  “You speak French?” />
  “Only if I need to find a bathroom.”

  He laughed and we chatted as we drank some excellent Swedish wine with dinner. Finn, of course, picked it out. Now that I knew his family background, I was interested to hear what he could tell me about wine. To my delight, he told me about his family’s winery in Ireland and about the wine-making process. I realized although he may not have wanted to work in his father’s business, he had definitely picked up the know-how.

  After dinner we took a leisurely stroll along Strandvagen Road where I discreetly noted the tram stop across the bridge to Djurgarden Island. My back-up plan had me taking a ferry across, but I typically didn’t do well on boats, so that would be a last resort.

  When we finally returned to the hotel room, Finn disappeared down the hall for a bath, and I strategically put some of my junk on the side of the bed without the cuffs. That way if Finn wanted to rest for a bit, he’d have to lie down on the side with the cuffs. I sincerely hoped that a full stomach, clean body and jet lag would conspire to put him out just long enough for me to snap a cuff on his wrist and chain him to the bed.

  After that I logged on the computer again to see if I’d received any further messages from the twins. There were none, which I presumed to mean all was well. I sent a quick message back to them in code updating them on the developments. Finn returned when I was in the middle of typing the message, so I casually urged him to stretch out on the bed for a while. To my relief, he didn’t argue and promptly lay on the side of the bed with the handcuffs.

  I congratulated myself. So far, so good. Plan A of what I was now calling “Neutralizing Finn” was moving along nicely.

  I surfed the web some more, checking out weather conditions for this evening in Stockholm and reviewing an online map of the city so I had a back-up plan to get to the rendezvous point in case something happened.

  Thirty minutes passed and I heard Finn’s steady, even breathing. A glance over my shoulder showed that his eyes were closed, hands folded atop his stomach. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly ten o’clock. That meant an hour and a half before game time. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of leeway, so I decided I had to make my move now. I slipped the sling off and flexed my fingers. My wrist was still swollen and an angry black-and-blue color, but I could move my fingers and hand, and that would be critical for what I needed to do next.

  Still sitting in the chair with my back to Finn, I unbuttoned the top two buttons on my blouse and fluffed up my hair. I didn’t think it would be necessary, but just in case Finn awoke before I had the cuffs on him, I needed to be ready. I slowly stood, my stomach churning with nervousness. Seduction was a game I’d never played and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be good at it. But we all do what we have to do when lives, not to mention national security, are at stake. Still, actual seduction was Plan B of Neutralizing Finn, and whereas I was one hundred percent certain it would be a pleasurable experience, at least for me, I hoped I wouldn’t have to go that far.

  Putting Plan A into effect, I quietly knelt down beside the bed. Finn didn’t move and there was no change in his breathing. I leaned over and groped blindly for the handcuffs. It wasn’t as easy as I had expected and I had to lean over so far, my hair fell slightly onto his chest.

  Just as my fingers closed around the handcuff, Finn’s eyes snapped open. I was so frightened, I nearly screamed.

  “Lexi?” he said, blinking and apparently confused. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh, um, I…” I stammered idiotically, frozen half-poised over his body. My hair rested on his chest, my face mere inches from his, but I didn’t move. There was no way in hell I was letting go of the cuffs now that I had them in my grasp. My heart thundered as Plan A evaporated in a puff of smoke, but I tried to remain calm as I moved into Plan B.

  Seduction.

  Oh, God. I wasn’t sure I could do this.

  “Just relax, Finn,” I said in the huskiest voice I could manage. “I think you’ll like this.”

  Gathering up my courage, I leaned over and mashed my lips against his. He gasped and then I realized he wasn’t kissing me back. Mortified, I pulled away, knowing he was ready to bolt in about five seconds if I didn’t do something. That meant moving to Plan C. There was only one problem. I didn’t have a Plan C.

  “Finn, I’m…sorry,” I stammered. “I just couldn’t, uh, control myself.”

  “What’s gotten into you?” he said, starting to sit up, but I pushed him back down on the bed with an elbow to his chest.

  He looked really surprised now. Great, not only did he think I was a slut, he probably made me as the dominatrix type, as well. Jeez, wait ‘til he saw the handcuffs.

  “It’s the…uh, close proximity to you,” I said breathily, pretty sure I was starting to hyperventilate. Sweat had started to trickle down my back. My shoulders ached from the uncomfortable position of half sitting, half lying across him and I thought I might sneeze.

  “Or it could be the, uh, jet lag,” I stammered. Holy crap, I wasn’t making any sense whatsoever.

  Think seduction, I urged myself. Be sexy, slinky and ooze sensuality.

  I tried to shake my chest a bit, because I was pretty sure boobs turned on most men. But because I still had a death grip on the cuffs, all the shaking probably only made me appear spastic. God, Finn was looking at me like I was having a seizure. Focus. Slowly I lifted the cuffs until they were even with the bed. I just needed to grab his hand and cuff it. It would take all of two seconds, but timing was everything. I couldn’t afford to fumble, despite my injured wrist, because Finn was bigger, stronger and more agile than me. I’d have one chance, and one chance only, to snap them on right.

  Finn’s eyes were so wide I thought they might pop out of his head. “You’re trying to seduce me?” he sputtered in disbelief. Instead of looking turned on, he seemed kind of freaked.

  “Yes, I, ah, like your big muscles,” I stammered stupidly. Shit. Apparently I was the master of sexy conversation. Not.

  But for some unfathomable reason, my nervousness seemed to relax him. I got a big break when he folded his arms behind his head, just inches from the cuff.

  “Well, now, lass, this doesn’t mean you’re going to start talking dirty now, are you?” he said with a smile.

  I looked at him in horror. “Talk dirty? Me? Well…ah…okay, I can do that. Um, spank me hard, big daddy, then I’ll—”

  Before I could finish, Finn slid a hand around the back of my neck and yanked me down hard against his mouth. He gave me a wickedly hot, electrifying, open-mouthed kiss. The room spun and I’m pretty sure I forgot to breathe. I might have even had a small heart attack. Yet a tiny part of my brain, probably the part living in fear that my life was on the fast-track to death, somehow remained detached.

  Though my body was ready to get naked and do the horizontal tango, I realized I had just been presented with a golden opportunity. As Finn deepened the kiss, I slid the cuff across the pillow to where his other hand lay and snapped it on his wrist.

  He stilled immediately and I guess it took him about three seconds to realize what I’d done. I used those precious seconds to tear my mouth from his and leap out of reach.

  “What the bloody hell?” he yelled, sitting up and yanking on the handcuffs. To my enormous relief, they held magnificently. “Lexi, what is this about?”

  “I’m sorry, Finn,” I said apologetically. “Really sorry. But I have to meet Basia. Alone.”

  The look in his eyes was murderous. “Unhook me, lass.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Bugger it, Lexi. Let me go.”

  My mouth still burned from his kiss. I’d never, ever, been kissed like that, and I was pretty sure I’d never experience such heat again. I had this wild urge to throw myself back in his arms and see just how kinky I could get with extra-long handcuffs. Who knew if I’d get another chance in this lifetime? He looked so damn sexy with mussed-up hair and that wild, dangerous Celtic look in his eyes. I wanted t
o give it a go.

  Jeez, maybe I was a pervert.

  He yanked again on the cuff and I held my breath that the bedpost would hold. It did.

  “Ye don’t know what ye are doing,” he said, his Irish accent thick.

  “On the contrary, I know exactly what I’m doing,” I said.

  “Ye can’t do this alone. Ye need me.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I need you or I need MI-6?”

  It was just a second but I saw surprise and acknowledgement flash in his eyes. It was all I needed.

  “I don’t know what ye are talking about.”

  “Sure you do. Look, I don’t blame you for having your own agenda. I have mine.”

  “Lexi, unhook me and I’ll explain everything.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry right now. I’m sure you understand. However, I’m not without heart. If I don’t come out of this alive, your cell phone and the key to the cuffs are over here on the dresser. Someone will find you eventually.”

  He pulled on the cuffs again and swore at me in a steady stream of English and Gaelic. “Ye’re going to get yourself killed without me,” he warned.

  I rolled my eyes to the heavens. “That seems to be the consensus going around these days. Guess what? Bugger that! I’m not a helpless idiot. It’s really starting to piss me off.”

  “Lexi,” he growled. “Don’t be foolish. This is bigger than you can imagine.”

  “I can imagine pretty big. For a girl, that is.” I smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry about me, Agent Shaughnessy, I can take care of myself. Oh, and I guess I should also tell you that I happened to mention to our punk convention floormates that we might be having wild, kinky sex in here with said handcuffs. Yelling or screaming isn’t going to help.”

  “Don’t do this, lass.”

  I shoved some money into my tote bag along with a map, a sweatshirt and a baseball cap. Then I carefully put the sling back on my arm because my wrist was killing me again after all the excitement.

  “Lexi, you don’t have to go this alone.”

 

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