Daisy shrieked, “There’s another!”
Starr spun on his heels, his shadow outlined against a second monster bearing down on her. Then the light went out. “Daisy!” A rushing sound filled the space behind him, followed quickly by a massive crack to the center of his back. Like taking a bull’s horns in the arena, the force flung him ragdoll against the tunnel wall. Blocking the impact with his arms, he lost the pistol and collapsed to the floor.
For the second time that night, the sound of owl’s wings buffeted both sides of his head. This time the push and pull of the sonic gun threatened to pop his brain from his skull like two massive plungers. “Dai—sy!” The word rippled on the pulsing air. He lifted his head as a flailing stinger swept underneath it and disappeared into the dark. The monster stood between him and her. While fumbling to his knees, he brushed against the .38.
“James, where are you?”
Her voice was all he needed. He hugged the wall, the remaining scorpion thrashing only feet away. Again the stinger lashed out, striking the wall inches from his shoulder. Lunging in her direction, he fired his final two rounds directly into what he imagined was the creature’s head. As he crashed down and skidded to a stop, the tunnel suddenly fell silent. “Daisy?” Nothing in response. His breath came short and fast, a cold sweat washing over him. “Daisy!”
“I’m here.”
“Are you alright?”
“No. I mean yes.” She shuffled in his direction. “Let’s get out of here.”
He grunted. His knee had taken a hit and his back screamed with pain. Her hand found him in the darkness and helped him to his feet. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her head.
Something heavy scraped the floor. “I only stunned it.” She whispered the words, not wanting the monster to realize it still lived.
“We’ll be long gone. Come on.” Hugging the wall, they skirted the armored demon and hurried for the exit. As the stone platform locked back in place with the footbridge, the battered couple breathed deep. Drenched in sweat and artificial moonlight, Starr wondered if he’d ever be able to go underground again.
ELEVEN
This Keeps Getting Better
Lickter exited Ms. Lloyd’s private elevator on the eighth floor, grateful she’d at least trusted him with a key. Exhaustion steeped his bones, but like a wasp in an ant mound his mind had been riled by an unwanted thought. It was one thing for a twisted professor to manipulate the tender mind of a young girl, piss poor as it was. But he couldn’t stomach some wealthy spinster yanking his own strings.
Besides, he should have known better. He stopped midway down the hall to gather himself. Rich and powerful, cunning and devious—Gwendolyn Lloyd epitomized all these things. But despite his current anger, he still had conflicting feelings for her. He suspected she had more than a professional need for him.
Lickter had played the game long enough to know that with power and wealth came isolation and distrust. His biggest mistake had been allowing her world to invade his. Now the question was whether to push deeper in or distance whatever he had left of his private life.
He sucked in his gut, shook it with his hands. He’d gotten soft around the midsection and wrinkled around the eyes, but overall he’d aged well. He reckoned he’d keep playing the game as long as he could, and it’d be a bit easier with a boost in status. If he played his cards right, maybe he could cut down on the dirty work. He breathed deep and continued down the hall.
Despite the lack of distinguishing markings to delineate it from the others, he located her door easily. What looked like a hallway full of typical offices, served as G.W.’s private living quarters. Knocking softly, he removed his hat, held it over his stomach and styled his expression as one of tired compassion—a dear friend and part-time lover checking in on her wellbeing.
Ms. Lloyd swung the door wide. She greeted him in a sleek, silver nightgown, apparently anticipating his arrival. Or perhaps preempting it. Lickter swallowed, struggling to refocus on the plan as he followed the slit in the front of her gown from the floor to within inches of her bounty. “Ma’am.” He nodded.
She tossed her head, inviting him in, a smile cracking her lips. “You’ve always had such a way with words, Benjamin.”
“The fewer to eat down the road.”
“I thought men ate their hats, not their words.” She sidled up to a bar separating the kitchen from a practical yet elegant dining and living area and began pouring them drinks from a shaker resting in a bucket of ice.
“Mine’s awful dirty, ma’am.”
“Your words? Or your hat?”
“Uh-huh.” He pulled up a stool and rested his hat on the counter. “Rum?”
“Goslings.”
“Wishing for warmer weather already?” He asked.
“Warmer times maybe.”
Seeing his opening, he took it. Business first. “I’m still concerned about the auction.” She slid him a drink. He captured her hand with his own, held it on the counter as he kicked back a third of the stormy mixture of dark rum and ginger beer.
“I may have to do all my drinking in private after this evening’s gala.” She held his hand to her face. Before he could swallow she continued, “can we discuss this later?” It was a genuine question—the first one Lickter could remember all day. She was asking him, and it proved more effective than a request or order.
He nodded, took a long moment to finish his beverage before drawing her into him. From the stool he had to tip his head upward to match her lips with his and complete the embrace. He slid his hands down her back, ran his fingertips up both sides from hip to neck. Tangling them in her hair, he stood and asserted himself with a bold kiss while moving her toward the bedroom.
An hour later his elevated endorphins sagged as the alcohol lingered. He ached both physically and mentally. Scooting higher in the bed, he situated Gwendolyn’s head on his chest and watched it rise and fall with his breathing. “That girl was a sad case.”
“I’m sorry for that.” She placed her hand on his stomach. “I realize it must have been difficult for you.”
“She loves him.”
“Really? I guess I had considered the possibility.”
He sighed. “Can’t help but wonder what’ll happen to her after this is all over.”
“Hmm.” The direction of the conversation didn’t seem to interest her.
“Or what’ll happen to me.”
She stiffened. “I don’t see how those are related.”
“No?” He put a hand behind his head. “While I’ll admit I’m no sappy-eyed youth, I got the unsettling feeling I’m being used.”
She sat up, the contour of her breasts hugging the sheer fabric. “Grow up, Benjamin. We’re all being used. What do you think relationships are?”
“Even if I accept your grim outlook, there has to be rules.”
“Rules? Do you think this is some sort of playground? Keep your hands to yourself, share, play nice?” She snatched a hair tie from the nightstand, pulling both the brown and silvery gray strands back into a quick ponytail. It gave her a youthful look Lickter liked.
“How about not demanding more than you’re willing to give.” He raised a brow.
She shook her head. “Now where would that sort of behavior leave your ledger?”
“Ledger.” He nodded, watching the regret flicker in her eyes, too late to eat the words. “I understand. What about the simple facts required to do my damn job? How am I supposed to provide the returns you’ve paid for?” He sat up, pulled his pants on one tired leg at a time.
She stood, slicing him with blood-letting eyes. “Enlighten me, Benjamin.”
He buttoned his fly, sat back down on the edge of the bed and scavenged the floor until he came up with a toothpick from his shirt pocket. Finally he took the map from his pants and tossed it on the bed. “For God’s sake, Gwendolyn. There’s a network of tunnels connecting Oleg to this very building.
That’s not considered necessary information?”
She focused on the tattered piece of paper lying on her sheets, her face draining of color. “No.”
“Like hell. Oleander, that’s what Oleg calls the girl, told me as much. That’s how he conducted the attacks tonight, and it’s how he’s going to fleece you tomorrow. You put a lot of thought into getting the upper hand, shaking down the competition to build a personal empire. I get that. And you need the professor to draw the attention off yourself.” He began buttoning his shirt. “Dammed if I can get it through your arrogant hide, but Oleg is out of our control. I thought tonight would have convinced you of that. He’ll burn down the whole city before you can pull out the slack in his leash.” He tucked the front half of the shirt into his pants. “Which, by the way, is wrapped around your own feet.”
“That isn’t… How’d you get that?” Gwendolyn stuttered.
“Off the half-burned body of my mole. During my interrogation I deduced he got it from Oleander, Oleg’s favorite pet. At least he trusts his assets with vital information.” He stopped his diatribe briefly, musing to himself. “Hmm. I guess you’re right. Look where trust got him.”
Gwendolyn reached for the paper as if it were a coiled rattler. Taking it by the edge, she unfolded its entirety and spread it gently on the bed. “This shouldn’t exist.”
“Sorry hun, I’m pretty sure they do.” He started to leave the room.
“Not the tunnels. The map.” She shook her head. “Benjamin.” He stopped. “Just shut up and listen for a second. Yes, I knew about the tunnels, of their existence anyway. I too have a map.” She swayed toward the far wall where she lifted the corner of a painting to reveal a safe. After accessing it she returned to unfurl a much smaller map over the top of the first.
“It’s a partial.” Lickter spotted the overlap.
“There are five pieces. I have this one, encompassing the financial district.”
Lickter studied the logical quadrants of the remaining map. “So before the map was divided someone secretly made a copy.” He smiled coldly. “One even you didn’t know about.”
“This isn’t a joke.” She stamped her bare foot.
“Oh I understand. It leaves a sour taste, don’t it? Being played by another.”
“I made a mistake, okay? I’m sorry. I should have told you about the tunnels. But don’t you see? No one was supposed to be able to use them, not on this wide of a scale. Not until the five pieces were brought together.”
“And you never bothered to map the remaining tunnels yourself?” He wasn’t buying it.
“You don’t understand. The tunnels are dangerous. There’s more to it than what the map reveals. Traps, mazes…” She clutched herself by the shoulders, rubbing a chill from her arms, “guardians.”
Lickter didn’t like the sound of that last one. He took several steps back to her side. “What sort of guardians?”
~~~
After several minutes describing the lore behind the tunnels, Gwendolyn stopped in mid-sentence, apparently arguing with herself about what to share next. Whether she was winning or losing, Lickter couldn’t guess. “You want a give and take?” She exhaled, her tall, slender frame seeming frail to him for the first time.
“Business is business. I get it.”
“No you don’t.” She shivered, still wearing nothing but the satin nightgown.
“Here,” he grabbed a robe from the back of the washroom door.
“I didn’t exactly take my father’s identity with his permission, or even intentionally. Not at first.” Lickter sat on the foot of the bed while Gwendolyn chose to pace. “It was the person he’d raised me to be,” she shrugged. “I couldn’t be that person as a woman. My parents’ death happened so suddenly. They’d made no preparations, left no instructions. So I set everything in order, scoured over my father’s notes, his books, every minute detail.”
She finally stopped rubbing her arms and instead slipped her hands into the robe’s pockets. “I didn’t find the section of map for a year. When I did, I knew it to be a critical connection between my father and his most important work—a clandestine partnership with four other individuals. After six months of searching I placed the map here in Austin. I moved here, in part, to discover the mystery of my father. Becoming him has only made me more desperate to understand him.”
Lickter tugged on a boot.
“Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t.” He tugged on the other. As much as he’d wondered about her past over the years he’d known her, his pride had been injured, and none of this information would help him perform his immediate job.
“Since finding the map, it’s been my mission to take my father’s place within the cabal of five—to prove to the remaining four that I am my father’s daughter. All this time I thought the connection between my father and the others must have been political. The capitol was in the middle of the map.” She paced more quickly. “But this proves it must have been the university.”
Lickter stared at her blankly. “Look, I’m tired.”
“I’ll use short sentences.” She rolled her eyes. “It can’t be coincidence that Oleg had this map.”
“So he found it in some dusty drawer.”
“No. I assure you, he didn’t. Someone wanted him to have it.”
Lickter perked up. “A rival.”
Gwendolyn folded her section of map and placed it back into the wall safe while Lickter folded the complete version. She caught him as he slipped it back into his pocket. “Or a member of the cabal. It means they’re watching, and that I’m closer than I’ve ever been.”
She took a moment to relax. “What’s important is that you’re right. Oleg is out of my control. Someone else has been pulling his strings all along.” He shook her off and strode back to the bar for his hat. She followed. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t use him.”
Lickter shook his head. “If you say so, but—”
“Tonight was just a statement. He’s lashing out like a spoiled child. The plan still works.” She grabbed his hand. “Set up the vault. Use the map to find Oleg’s lab. After the auction the plan works as good with him dead as alive.”
“You realize he’ll know that. He’s not going to hang around for a bullet sandwich.”
“As eloquent as ever, Benny.”
Lickter shrugged. “And the mystery men?”
“Leave the cabal to me. This could be an attempt to eliminate me, or it could be a test. It wouldn’t be a first for either.”
“Hey, I’ve got a job to do. I’ll get it done.” He twiddled his toothpick. “You paid good money.”
“Oh good. A professional.” He turned to leave. “Wait.” He paused, his hand on the knob. “Here.” She tossed him a key he hadn’t seen her pick up. “Trade me.”
He took the key she’d given him earlier and handed it back.
“Turn that one to the left and the elevator will drop past the basement. It’s the only entrance.”
“That you know of.” He stepped into the hall, “Good evening, ma’am. Thanks for the drink,” and shut the door. This keeps getting better.
~~~
Starr tapped his glass of water on the surface of the bar before resting his head on its rim. What the hell am I doing? Jerking his head up, he hailed the bartender. He’d been sober for seven years. But after tonight—
“I thought you didn’t drink.” Lickter took the stool next to him at the Antler Bar and Grill, just off the lobby of the hotel by the same name. The barkeep stopped directly in front of them.
“A drink for my friend.” Starr gestured toward the sheriff without looking up.
“Whisky, double.” The two men sat in silence until after Lickter’s drink arrived. “Rough night.”
Both men were still wearing their getups from the gala. Seconds ago Starr had planned on passing out in his. He had hoped the morning might reveal the last twenty four hours to be a terrible nightmare. But then what about Daisy? “This is a
ll bullshit.” Starr turned to face Daisy’s father, a man he’d hoped to respect. “Oleg’s revolution, the needs of the people, the good of Texas. You preyed on my ideals, my naiveté.”
“Sorry, boy. But you wouldn’t even recognize it if you weren’t already a player.”
“A player. What in hell is that supposed to mean? What game are we playing, Sheriff? ‘Cause I don’t feel like I’m playing a game.”
Lickter slammed back the rest of his drink. “Look, you’re right. The cover story’s bullshit, but the game is real. And you’re a player now whether you want to be or not.”
“Son of a bitch. You set me up. A job at the bank, dinner with your daughter, breakfast with Oleg. Now I’m supposed to be your poster boy for some industrialist paradise?”
“Can the church talk. You did this to yourself and you’re getting exactly what you want in return, so get over this cock and bull self-pity and man up for what has to be done.”
“Man up?” He slammed his glass on the bar and lowered his voice. “In the last three hours I’ve witnessed people burst into flames. I’ve been shot in the ass with a dissolving bullet, been chased by local law enforcement, stumbled upon a hidden system of tunnels and survived an attack from two dadgum scorpions the size of steers. And you have the gall—”
Lickter gripped him by the shoulders, eyes like full moons. “Where’s Daisy?”
Starr knocked away the sheriff’s hands. “She’s fine. Sleeping upstairs, no thanks to you.”
Lickter took a deep breath. “Go back. You found the tunnels?”
“You knew about them.” Starr shook his head, the feeling of treading dangerous waters returning.
“No, dammit. I just found out tonight.”
“And I’m supposed to—”
“Look, Starr. You’re a good man. Ms. Lloyd saw that in you. For all her faults, she’s a good judge of character. She chooses winners, sometimes even helps to make them just to ensure she ends up on the winning side. That’s your game. That’s politics. But there are other games. In some of ‘em I’m a pawn like you.”
The Austin Job Page 9
