by Mark Henwick
Despite Werner’s custom-made shoes, my feet were hurting by the time I was dancing with Arvinder Singh, the delegate from India. I was becoming anxious that the messenger had decided it was too risky to talk to me.
“I think I am letting the side down if I do not offer to show you my suite,” Arvinder said with a grin, and I laughed. “But indeed, it was amusing to see you dancing with Jennifer Kingslund. I was saying to my companions at the table, it is like a boat in a whirlpool, port and starboard, port and starboard.”
“Yes, the dress colors. We didn’t pick them for that, but…”
My words petered out. I could feel a pressure in my head, not exactly like Skylur or Diana. I stumbled and tried to get a barrier up. The pressure disappeared immediately.
Arvinder laughed as if I’d said something funny. “Please keep talking. I have a message for Diana and the best place for it is inside your head. It will not harm you, and I will not attempt anything else, on my Blood, I swear. I didn’t think you’d even notice.”
My mouth was dry. I wish I’d had better preparation than this. I had expected a note, a USB drive, something out of James Bond. Athanate didn’t work like that. But my instinct was to trust Arvinder.
“Okay,” I said, trying to smile. “Go ahead.”
There was the pressure again for a second and then it was gone. In its place was a presence, closed and cool and smooth.
“I am sorry to use this method without warning,” said Arvinder, “but it is very secure. Only Diana will be able to unpick this lock. You must understand, what I am doing is dangerous for my House.” He smiled pleasantly. “Please accept my apologies.”
I huffed. I was a bit upset, but at least I had gotten the message. All I needed now was to get back to Diana.
Arvinder did his best to entertain me for the remainder of the dance with deliciously barbed comments about the other delegates.
I kept going for another half-dozen dances, then I sat down, determined to get the weight off my feet for a while.
Alex came and sat beside me, bringing champagne in long flutes.
I smiled my thanks and our hands touched as I took one flute from him. Purr. Little thrills all over.
“Such an unusual bracelet,” he said. “Arapaho Wolf Clan style.” I held my arm up and his fingers traced the design. A slight frown creased his forehead, and I wanted to reach up and smooth it out. Or kiss it better.
“It’s a wolf’s eye,” I said. “It looks out for me.”
At that exact moment, it tingled.
Chapter 44
I snarled. The stupid bracelet thought Matlal only wanted me to play pony, now it was telling me I was in danger. Who? Carter? Alex?
I swiveled my head, but there was nothing I could see except a ballroom full of people enjoying themselves. Jen was standing with her back to me, talking animatedly with three men not forty feet away. I couldn’t see Carter. Matlal and Tucker were standing arguing on one side, oblivious to me. The only person looking my way was one of the security staff. And Alex.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My bracelet…no, nothing.” I shrugged it off and leaned towards him. “Jack Tucker tells me you were a doctor, then gave it up to run a trucking company. That’s interesting.”
Alex laughed. “Yes, Jack’s an original, isn’t he? But I’ll give him this, he sticks with you. He started me off with my first contract, and I’m still handling his shipping.”
I frowned. That hadn’t been quite what Jack had said to me, surely?
The bracelet tingled again. I groaned inwardly and looked at my watch. Just before midnight. I’d better check on security.
“Alex, I’m sorry. Just a moment.”
I lifted the comms unit from my bag and flicked it on.
“Reynolds, you still awake?”
There was compete silence from the headset. I checked the tiny LED, which showed the battery was good. I called him on my cell. Always good to have a backup when electronics are involved. The call went to voicemail. Shit. This might be a technical hitch, but suddenly I was believing my bracelet.
“Alex, I have a problem here.” I grabbed a card and thrust it in his hand. “I’ve got to go. Call me. I mean it.”
“Can I help?”
I smiled as I gathered Jen’s bag and mine. “Thanks, I appreciate it, but this is my line of work.”
I came up behind Jen. She was waving her arms as she described something to the three men. I looped her bag over her arm and pulled her close, gently taking the drink from her hand and passing it to a waiter.
“Jen, stay calm, but I think we may have a problem,” I whispered into her ear. “We need to go now.”
She froze for a second and then giggled. “Hell, if you put it like that, honey,” she drawled. “Gentlemen, excuse me, I’m called.” She gave them a crooked smile and nodded to them, touching the nearest with one elegant finger on his lapel. “Carl, we’re good on that deal, send me the contract.”
We walked, and I set the pace fast but not fast enough to attract attention. I decided I would come back for the stole and gloves some other time.
“What’s happening?” she said.
“Reynolds isn’t answering. Could be a malfunction, but if it is, we can come back. It’s too early for the others to be here. Call Kingston, please.”
Jen tried her driver and got voicemail. She started to look nervous.
“What about Victor? The police?” she said.
“No time. We’ve got to get out of here first.” I was uncomfortably aware how many ways there are to kill someone in a crowd.
The doorman had changed. It was entirely possible that they worked shifts, but I didn’t like it. There were three cabs by the door and he waved us to the middle one. There were people in the first one, but it wasn’t going anywhere. They appeared to be arguing.
I took the third cab. There were too many people standing around watching us. There was something staged about this, and I didn’t even have the Walther. The doorman was moving towards us, shouting and pointing at the middle cab. Others started to gather. Something was going down here.
At that moment, Alex appeared at the door with a couple of friends. He had gotten drunk and very loud over the last two minutes. He was waving a bottle and draped his arm around the doorman, swinging him back away from us. Eyes left us and focused on him.
“You gotta go in that cab.” Our cabbie turned in his seat and was pointing us to the middle one, and I knew then there was no way I was going in it. I jerked him back straight in his seat, grabbed his hair and held his head still. I pulled my lipstick out of my bag and shoved it into the back of his head.
“This is only a .22 but it’ll make a good mess of your head if you don’t start to drive. Now.”
Alex had passed the doorman to one of his buddies and was leaning into the middle cab. He came out waving something and roaring: “This one’s no fucking good, the key’s broken.”
Alex’s other buddy had opened the door of the front cab and was dragging the cabbie out. I really hoped none of them were real cabbies.
Our cab pulled out. The man’s hands were trembling. If this was ZK, they must be down to the bottom of the barrel, but how had they mounted such a complicated attack?
“Keep your hands on the wheel and the speed down to thirty,” I said, as I patted him down. I pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket.
“What a surprise, a ten-clip Glock, no serial numbers.” I put my deadly lipstick back and replaced it with the Glock. Things were looking up. Thank God for Alex.
I spared Jen a quick glance. She was looking pale and worried, but steady. I had to remind myself that, even if this was what I did for a living, it was new and frightening for her.
“Slow down. Turn here,” I said to the cabbie.
“It’s an alley,” he complained.
I stabbed the back of his head with the Glock and he turned obediently.
“Stop. Put it in park. Open your door. Hands b
ack on the wheel.” I got out and stood behind him. “Now get out.”
As he got out I hit him over the head with the butt of the pistol and he sprawled onto the asphalt. I reached across and took the keys out of the ignition.
“Come on Jen, my car’s in the garage.” I hurried her out of the alley and we trotted across the road in our party heels. The late night traffic ignored us and it was freezing cold in my dress.
“Amber, what the hell’s going on?” said Jen as we got into my car. I started the engine and turned the heat up.
“I don’t know. I thought Morales was winding up ZK and things would be safer. There’s no point in them coming after you other than for revenge. Any takeover of your company now would come under too much scrutiny to be any use. But this is way over the top. I’m missing something.”
“What were they trying to do tonight?”
I had come out of the parking garage and was heading south for Speer Boulevard. As we pulled away, there was a muffled thud of an explosion and a bright flash from the alley where we’d left the cab.
“They were trying to kill you, Jen,” I said as she twisted around to look open-mouthed at the alley. “At least two, maybe three fake cabbies. Cars wired to blow if things went wrong. Replacement for the doorman and front desk security staff. Someone to take out Reynolds and Kingston. I’d lay bets they even had someone inside the ballroom.”
“Stop the car, please,” she said, gripping my arm, her eyes wide.
I pulled over. She scrambled out and was sick on the sidewalk. I mentally kicked myself. I kept forgetting that years of people trying to kill me made me casual about it, but this was all new for Jen.
She got back in and turned to the front. I could see her make an effort to calm herself.
“Thank you, Amber,” she said finally. “Tonight’s the second time you’ve saved my life.”
I gave her a smile as I pulled away. “You’ll have to thank Alex and his friends as well this time. That was a fantastic diversion that let us get away.”
“Deauville? That was an act?” I nodded. “Did you ask him to do it?” she asked.
“No. I guess he just saw something going on.”
“Oh. I thought he didn’t like me.”
I smiled to myself. Maybe it was me he liked. In the meantime, I’d better get my head around what this latest attack meant.
“Jen, what happens to the Kingslund Group if you’re dead?”
“Bernard has signing rights,” she said slowly. “My estate would have the benefit of course, but the whole nine yards would be up for sale. At a price he would set.”
Well, that took care of the motive for killing Jen. We just needed to find out who. My cell rang. It was Victor.
“Amber? You okay? Ms. Kingslund?”
“We’re fine, Vic. We’re on the road in my car. The cab we took was blown up a couple of minutes ago. What happened?”
“Don’t know yet. Reynolds and Kingston down. Door security at the ball down. Hold off goin’ back till I check the place an’ double up. I’ll call you.” He kept it short and to the point.
“We’ll hold off, Vic, but I’m turning off these cells. I’ll call you on another line.”
“Shit, woman, you thinkin’ traces as well?”
“Could be. Don’t want to give them any edge.”
“Okay. Try in an hour. Be careful.”
“I hear you, Vic.” I hung up and turned the cell off.
“What does he mean—down?” said Jen, turning her cell off as well.
“Don’t know what it means yet, Jen. Just out of action for the moment.”
I headed south off Speer, down Logan. If ZK had gone to all this trouble to get Jen at the ball, then they might have a backup plan at Jen’s house. I was confident that Victor would check the place over thoroughly. In the meantime, we needed to be somewhere unpredictable.
I retrieved my burn phone from the bag and called David.
Chapter 45
David opened the door for us and beckoned us inside.
He looked awful, as pale and sick as he had last weekend. I felt guilty that I hadn’t checked on him, but there hadn’t been any time this week, what with my unscheduled trip to Rooks. I’d hoped that he was over the worst after our last meeting, but it was clear he wasn’t. We couldn’t discuss it in front of Jen, so I just gave him a hug and asked if he was okay.
He nodded and offered to make us coffee or hot chocolate. Jen made him show her where everything was and then herded him to the living room to sit.
I knelt close to him and spoke quietly. “What’s up, David? I thought you were going to kick ass after last time.”
“Got the first part done okay. It’s just Pia giving me a hard time. You know, what doesn’t kill you...”
“Yeah, I know the saying, makes you stronger. So long as it doesn’t kill you. What’s she doing?”
David was wearing a roll neck shirt. He eased the side down and I could see multiple bite wounds healing. “Just lots of it,” he said. His voice was tired.
Jen came in with the chocolate and I sat with her on the sofa.
I managed to get David to talk about running a bit, and Jen and I told him a little about the charity ball, without mentioning the way we had left it. The conversation limped. David seemed to swing between half asleep and manically awake and focused on us.
I called Victor at 2 a.m. and he gave us the all clear to head home. I hugged David as we left and promised to look in on him soon.
“Ex-boyfriend?” Jen said as we pulled away.
I smiled. “No, more a little brother.”
“Is he doing drugs or is he sick?”
“Neither. Really, he’s just going through a bad patch. It wasn’t a good idea for us to show up like that. I’ll have to drop in on him this week and make sure he’s okay.”
It took us only five minutes to get from David’s house back up to Jen’s. Victor had doubled up the guards and they got us off the quiet streets and out of sight quickly.
We met with Victor in the living room.
Victor’s news was better than it might have been. Reynolds and Kingston were both found unconscious and tied up in the limousine, parked in the center’s parking garage. They had been injected with general anesthetics. Alongside them, in a van, were the half-dozen of the center staff who had been on door security, similarly drugged and tied.
Alerted by the failure of Reynolds to respond at about the time we were getting out, Victor had called the police in. The fake door security team and cabbies had long since disappeared, and as I had predicted, a couple of inside security staff were missing as well. The mayor had demanded it all be kept low key, and few of the attendees at the ball had noticed anything wrong.
“It feels like desperation to me,” I said as Victor wound down on the events at the ball. “Too many things to go wrong, too many people involved. And blowing up cabs as an attempt at a fail-safe method, for God’s sake.” I turned to Jen. “What’s happened or is happening over the next couple of weeks that’s so important?”
Jen shrugged. “I don’t have anything major planned immediately. There’s the bid for Tucker Beacon which could go in once the quarterly financials are done. That’d be sometime over the next month or so. I’m finalizing a partnership purchase of land for the Quarter Horse race track next week.”
“No, something triggered this. Silver Hills was half-assed, like it was done in a hurry. But tonight was planned. If you had died this evening, who controls the company? Verdoon. And they control him.”
“But there’s nothing planned,” said Jen. “And what about Troy?”
Victor shifted his bulk on his seat. “Differen’ strategy. Plain disruption. Whatever the reason, the main plan now is to kill you. So we ain’t gonna let that happen.”
“Vic, if they’re really desperate,” I glanced at the windows. “RPG, sniper, bomb—there’s too many ways to hit us here.”
He nodded. “Gonna ask you to move around over the n
ext few days. Ask you to limit contact with anyone who could be involved.”
There didn’t seem to be much more to say about attacks, so I asked if Victor had tracked down Verdoon’s background for clues. Jen had known about the hospital bills—they were for Verdoon’s daughter.
“Don’t know what to make of it, Amber,” said Victor. “Verdoon’s wife, she’s saying that the move saved her daughter’s life. She was in critical up here, they thought no more than a few weeks left. Then she was moved down to New Mexico and it seems she might be comin’ out soon, fully recovered. Can see that would be a powerful incentive, just don’t see how you could do it.”
I did. Athanate healing. I didn’t know how or why, but I was starting to be sure that Matlal was somewhere behind this.
Victor headed off. Jen went to bed. I sat and nursed a rum.
I was operating blind. We had been lucky, and whoever was after me and Jen only needed our luck to fail once. I had to find the source. What was it that I was missing?
Something had happened last week that changed the enemy’s strategy from loosely connected financial, kidnapping and disruption to attempted murder. If I could figure out the key, I was sure I would know who it was.
I couldn’t get any further.
As I soaped up in the shower I thought about the look Jen had given me on the dance floor. How did I feel about it now? I knew damn well how I’d felt about it at the time. It wasn’t fair for me to lead her on, but her desire was darkly addictive.
And then there was Alex. I didn’t know him yet, but what I had seen, I liked. Very much.
