The Territory of Lies

by Ana Stone

  "But you still don't believe me. Drink the wine."

  Blake looked down at the bottle. "How about we have the wine tested instead−see what's in it?"

  "And when it shows that there is some drug in it? Then will you believe me?"

  "I already believe you." He stepped up to her and took her hands.

  "Blake, I love you." She looked up into his eyes. "And I'd never betray you. Especially with Adrian."

  He felt some measure of relief at her words, but something Adrian had said at the restaurant was still nagging at him. "Can I ask you something?"

  She nodded. "Of course."

  "What was he talking about when he said something about some pirate thing?"

  Sydney flushed but didn’t look away. "Adrian likes to role play−act out fantasies."

  "And I surmise that you participated in one of his little fantasies?"

  "Yes."

  "And?"

  "And what do you want to know? What we said, what we did, whether I had sex with him and if it was good or bad or indifferent?"

  Blake felt a little embarrassed. He didn’t know what to say, how to admit that the thought of Zayne touching her made him mad enough to kill, or that the thought that she would have liked it made him feel sick.

  "It was just a game," she said softly. "And I wasn't raped, pillaged or plundered."

  "But you did sleep with him."

  "No."

  "Do you want to?"

  "No" She sighed and took a seat. "I don't know if you're−if we're ready for this, Blake. I love you and I want to be completely open and honest with you but quite frankly I don't know if we've reached a place where that's possible. Do you think we can survive the truth?"

  "I think we have to find out," he answered and sat down beside her. "If we're going to have a future then we have to."

  "All right." She nodded and her demeanor seemed to changed to one of detachment. "When I met Adrian I thought he was one of the sexiest men I had ever seen and I was attracted to him. But part of his appeal was that he was not the kind of man I could love. That's what I was running from, you know. Love. I was already in love with you but I was trying desperately not to admit it to myself. I saw Adrian several times but I never slept with him. Adrian could never excite me the way you do, don't you know that?"

  "Honestly?" he asked, "No."

  "Then I'll make it a priority in my life to prove it to you. And while we're being honest I have to tell you that if you ever scare me the way you did last night I might just kill you myself. What happened? Why were those men trying to kill you?"

  Blake let himself be diverted from the topic of Adrian Zayne long enough to explain to Sydney what happened. She listened carefully, asking questions now and then. When he finished she had an odd expression on her face. She stood up and walked across the room with her arms wrapped around herself in a kind of protective embrace. For a few minutes she stood perfectly still, staring out of the window then she turned to face him.

  "This is how it'll be, isn't it? Me being afraid that one day someone is going to come to the door and tell me you're dead - that someone just blew you up or shot you or stabbed you. This is just a preview of what's to come isn't it?"

  "I suppose you could look at it that way," he said as he got up and walked over to her. "But then you could look at anyone's life that way. Who's to say that the CPA won't be hit by a car crossing the street or have an accident on the freeway on his way home, or drop over dead with a heart attack. Who's got a guarantee for tomorrow?"

  "No one," she said softly and turned away. "I just don't think I could stand losing you."

  "I'm not easy to lose." He tried to make light of it.

  She turned and looked at him seriously. "I mean it Blake. As silly as it may sound to you, you're it for me. The one true love of my life. I didn't think it'd happen but it did, and it shocked the hell out of me to discover it had. But it did and now I'm scared of losing it."

  "Then I'll work real hard to make sure you don't," he said in a more serious tone. "Syd, I need to ask you something. I know this is probably the wrong time but I have to know. I need to know what happened between you and Tyler."

  "Oh, that's right." She looked away. "We didn't get to finish that conversation, did we?"

  "No, we didn't."

  "Well, then by all means, let's finish it," she said as she started out of the room. "Just as soon as I get out of the shower."

  Blake watched her leave the room then sat down and put his head in his hands. Here we are, right back where we started. He thought as he rubbed his tired eyes. Him asking questions and her avoiding them. Much as he loved Sydney and wanted to trust her, sometimes she could be difficult to deal with.

  Tuesday, April 25

  "I want a full report and I want it by this evening." Adrian said into the phone. "I want to know every detail of Blake Edward's life." He cradled the receiver then look down from the window of the penthouse suite of the Watergate Hotel at the sights below. Since he left Sydney's apartment he’d been filled with an uncommonly intense feeling of animosity toward Blake Edwards. The way Sydney had jumped out of bed and run after Edwards and away from him made him angry enough to want to inflict severe and lasting pain on someone.

  He smiled to himself. A way of dealing with both Sydney Forrest and Blake Edwards was about to be set into motion. A plan that would get him exactly what he wanted. He called for his driver and left the suite. The limousine was waiting when he walked outside. Adrian thought about his idea for a few minutes then placed a call. His conversation lasted the entire time it took to drive from Washington to his estate in Maryland.

  When he arrived he went directly to his study, sat down at his desk, and picked up the phone to dial a long distance number. "Yes, good day. I want to place an order for fertilizer."

  "Do you have an account with us?" the pleasant female voice on the other end of the line was so friendly a quick thought shot through his mind and he smiled to himself.

  "No, I do not. Perhaps I could open one."

  "Okay, then you'll need to talk to Judy," the woman said. "She'll take your application for an account. Hold on for a second while I transfer you."

  Adrian rocked back in his chair and pushed the receiver away from his ear with a grimace as the blare of country music came through the phone. His smile changed to a smug smirk. I can keep Edwards running in circles for years, he thought with malicious glee.

  After going through his personnel’s history files, he had found just what he was looking for. An employee in need. That was when his initial idea had started to take shape. Byron Rogers had been selected by the puppet master to become the focal point in a very devious plot.

  "This is Judy." Another female voice spoke in the earpiece. "How may I help you?"

  "Judy, good day. My name is Adrian Zayne. I have just recently acquired the Roger's farm in Huntsville, Alabama and I understand that the account with you is, shall we say, quite delinquent."

  There was a short pause. Adrian assumed that the girl was pulling up the account information on the computer. "Yes, sir,Mr. Zayne. The Rogers' account is currently on credit hold. Will you be paying off the account?"

  "As a matter of fact, I will. And I will also be placing an order for five thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate, which is to be sent to the Rogers' farm as soon as it can be delivered."

  Adrian imagined he’d just caused the girl's heart rate to increase. All orders over two thousand pounds were to be reported immediately to head of security. It was the standing order of the day for all supply companies.

  "Uh…" she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, but could you hold while I check the availability of our stock?"

  Adrian rolled his eyes as the country music once more whined from the phone. He thought about his conversation with Byron Rogers when he had inquired about Byron's father's farm. Byron had seemed to find it odd that Adrian would ask, even a little suspicious. But his suspicions had quickly faded when Adrian offered to help.
.

  "I have always admired the farmers of this country," Adrian claimed. "It's a shame we let the Chinese buy up all our good land the way we have. Don't you agree?"

  Byron Rogers had agreed somewhat hesitantly. He didn’t know that the Chinese were buying American farms.

  "I would hate to see your father's farm end up in the hands of the Chinese," Adrian told him.

  "My dad would never sell the farm," Byron assured him. "Especially not to the Chinese."

  Adrian watched Byron with cold, calculating eyes. "Byron, you don’tt understand how the system works. Your father owes a lot of money to the bank. The bank he does business with is owned by the Chinese. Therefore, if the bank forecloses, they will sell your father's farm to the highest bidder, and I assure you the highest bidder will be of Asian descent."

  "Mr. Zayne." Judy, came back on the line, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm sorry to keep you holding. We can make delivery in five days. If I could just get some information?"

  Adrian answered all the questions and thanked Judy for all her help then called his secretary in. "Get AG up here and call Larry in legal. I want to meet with him as soon as he can get here. Then find me a Chinese interpreter."

  Waving his hands at the secretary in a shooing motion as he rose, he strutted over to the bar where a set of pearl-handled Colt 45s hung in a leather studded holster. As he eyed the silver plating, he imagined himself sitting at a poker table, back in the days of the old west, as Bat Masterson.

  William Barclay Masterson, the legend, was sophisticated and cunning. A ladies man with enough charm to woo the preacher's wife. Bat Masterson, the man, was Adrian's ancestor, on his mother's side. Adrian had always prided himself with the fact that he alone carried the Masterson blood. The Masterson line died out with Adrian's mother's generation.

  A light knock on the door brought Adrian back to reality. " Come in, come in!" At another time Adrian would have hidden his excitement. But not this time.

  AG's look of concern faded when he saw Adrian so happy. It was a big surprise. Few people ever saw Adrian in such a mood.

  "Ah, AG!" Adrian smiled. "Come in. How are things going in accounting?"

  "Huh?" AG stammered in surprise. "Uh, just fine, sir. We, uh, we were just printing last month's cash flow report."

  "Fine, fine, splendid." Adrian moved to pat AG on the back. "Now, I need you to transfer some funds into a bank account in Huntsville, Alabama." He walked to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. "Here's the bank name and account number. We'll need an initial two hundred thousand to start with. I'll see that you get all the necessary info later."

  "Yes, Mr. Zayne," AG looked down at the paper nervously. "How should I record this in my journal, sir?"

  "We just purchased ourselves a farm." Adrian beamed and slapped AG on the back again to send him on his way. AG stumbled to the door just as Larry from legal pushed it open from the other side.

  "Larry! Come in, come in. I've got a job for you." Adrian walked back to the bar and poured a stiff drink, propping one foot up on the bar stool rung. "Close the door and come join me."

  Adrian downed his Scotch and poured one for Larry. "I want you to fly down to Huntsville and do a title search on this property." Adrian handed him a paper with the information on it.

  "Title work is not my area, sir. This should be given to acquisitions."

  "That's fine." Adrian dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Take whoever you need. I just want you to oversee this personally. Make sure that everything is clean. No gray areas."

  "Yes, sir."I'll see to everything personally."

  Adrian picked up Larry's untouched glass and held it out to him. Just as Larry started to raise his hand to take the drink Adrian tossed it back in one gulp and let out a breath as the scotch scorched a satisfying path down his throat.

  FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C.

  Blake was yawning when he walked into his office. He hadn’t been to bed yet and he felt like his eyes were full of sand. By the time he and Sydney finished talking he had just enough time to get back to headquarters for the ten o'clock meeting.

  He was still a little irritated with Sydney. While he believed that she had not invited Adrian into her bed he still found it hard not to be jealous. And her decision to commit Senator Tyler without consulting anyone was a thorn in his side. She explained her reasons for what she did and Blake understood them but it didn’t change the fact that she’d acted unilaterally without considering the consequences.

  Sydney's argument was that the plan had been to have Tyler committed all along so she didn’t see what difference it made when it was actually done. The way she saw it, Senator Tyler was safe and out of the picture and that was all that mattered.

  Blake agreed that they had planned to have the senator committed for his own protection but he reminded her that he had been put in charge of the investigation and could not afford to have her or anyone associated with the investigation acting alone in such a manner. Not only did it undermine his control but it could jeopardize the safety of others and the assignment in general.

  In the end their argument had reached a stalemate. She believed she had done the right thing but did promise to talk with him before she took any other action in his investigation. He tried to make her understand that he wasn’t coming down on her and reminded her that she was an important part of the investigation.

  Now as he put the allegedly drug tainted bottle of wine down on his desk he wondered if it wouldn’t be wise just to take her out of the picture all together. If what she said was true; if Zayne had somehow gotten into her apartment and drugged her then there was no telling what he would do next.

  Also, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he’d just feel better if she was far away from Zayne and his advances. Blake didn’t like the way Zayne looked at her; not like he was in love with her, but more like she was some sort of prize in some contest. Blake suspected that the contest Zayne was engaged in was with him and he didn’t have any desire to be in competition with that man for anything.

  Afraid you'd lose? A little voice asked in his mind. He’s filthy rich and has the kind of looks women go ga-ga over. Maybe you just don't think you can measure up. Maybe you really are scared that he'd beat you out - not only in the looks and money department but maybe bed as well.

  "But she loves me," he assured himself in a mumble.

  "What?" Weasel asked from the door.

  Blake looked up from his seat behind the desk. "Nothing, just thinking out loud."

  "You look like hell," Weasel commented as he took the seat in front of the desk. "Thought you were going to get some sleep."

  "Didn't get around to it. There was a surprise waiting for me at Syd's."

  "Oh? What?"

  "Zayne."

  Weasel's eyebrows raised. Blake quickly explained what happened and what Sydney told him. "And you do believe her, right?" Weasel asked, eyeing the bottle of wine on the desk. "Or are you going to take that to the lab and have it checked?"

  Blake considered it for a moment then nodded. "Yes. If it is drugged then I want to know with what."

  Weasel's expression hardened and he stood. "I'll run it to the lab. I've got to pick up some printouts anyway."

  Blake nodded and turned his attention to the report on his desk. He knew that Weasel was a little mad that he wanted to have the wine tested. He probably saw it as a lack of trust in Sydney. Blake told himself that it wasn’t that at all. He just wanted to make sure that the drug in the wine wasn’t dangerous.

  Sure, that little voice in his mind spoke up. You're just looking out for her. It doesn't have anything to do with trust.

  Blake wished that voice would shut up and leave him alone. The last thing he needed right now was more distractions.

  

  Sydney walked into the Galileo and gave her name to the maitre'd. "Yes, Doctor Forrest," he said politely. "Right this way."

  She followed him to one of the private alcoves along the wall,
curious who she would find waiting for her. When Blake had called her office he didn’t give his name but said that her newest patient would like their initial meeting to take place somewhere other than her office. She didn’t know what he was talking about but played along, thinking that it had to have something to do with the investigation on Adrian.

  "Mr. Armand, your guest has arrived," the maitre'd nodded politely as he pulled Sydney's chair out for her.

  "Thank you." The dark-skinned man inclined his head slightly. "Please bring us a bottle of your finest wine."

  "Certainly, sir," the maitre'd replied and left.

  "Mr. Armand?" Sydney raised her eyebrows.

  Weasel smiled and adjusted the expensive silk tie he wore that complemented his even more expensive Italian silk suit. "Doctor Forrest, how kind of you to rearrange your schedule." His words were spoken in broken English as if he was not comfortable with the language.

  Sydney's eyes darted from side to side, scanning the restaurant. "Why the act?" she asked softly, adjusting her napkin on her lap.

  "Eyes and ears," he replied and pulled a thin gold case from his breast pocket to withdraw a slim cigarillo. Sydney watched as he fiddled with the case for a moment then put it down on the table between them. "Okay," he said as he lit the cigar, "we can talk now."

  Sydney looked at the case on the table for a moment then at him. "What's that?"

  "Something to give any listeners a headache," he said with a smile. "So, what do you think?

  "Of the clothes or the accent?"

  "Both."

  "The clothes are fabulous. You look like a million. The accent? Well, just what kind of accent is that anyway?"

  "The only one I can do," he said with a chuckle.

  "So why are we here?"

  "It's time you talked to your father."

  "You didn't need to get me here to tell me that."

  "We did if we want my cover to look authentic."

  "Your cover?"

  Weasel waited until the waiter poured their win and left. He took a sip of wine before speaking. "Are you having some?" he indicated her untouched glass.