The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles)
Page 9
Chapter 12
Fiona’s cell rang as she headed out the door to the garage with George in tow.
“I’m sending a man to your office to fetch you,” said Falhman.
Fiona glanced at George. “I’m a bit busy this morning. I have a meeting with the authorities over the ship that sunk six months ago. They want to question me about it.”
“Do you need a lawyer?” Falhman asked.
“I have the company’s attorney meeting me.”
“I meant of the shifter variety. OmniWorld does have a vested interest in the company. Perhaps they should be there.”
Fiona stopped, causing George to bump into her. “Why? Am I going to need extra representation?”
“One can never have too many attorneys, my dear.”
She waved George ahead, indicating he should get in the car. When he was out of earshot, she whispered into the phone, “OmniWorld has no claim on my company. It was part of our agreement.”
“Did I say claim? I was merely pointing out what happens to you and your company greatly affects your agreement with OmniWorld, and ultimately with me. A second lawyer is merely a precaution. One can never be too cautious, don’t you think?”
What she thought was something didn’t fit right. Were her earlier fears about OmniWorld’s possible involvement in the sinking of the KayFion true? Why else would they want to insert themselves into the investigation?
“At least let me contact OmniWorld and see if Mr. Swindell is available for your meeting. I’d feel better knowing you had representation of our sort there to protect you.”
“Our sort? You make it sound as if they will know I’m a shape shifter and somehow use that against me.”
“My dear, Fiona, as your mentor you must learn to trust me. There are many things you do not yet understand about our world and its dealings with humanity. What time is the meeting?”
Was he right? Did she need the protection of rogues because she was now aligned with them? She tucked her chin against her chest, stretching her tense neck muscles. She was the one who got in bed with the devil. She had to follow through.
“Ten a.m., I’ll text you the location.” She removed the phone from her ear, but heard Falhman speak.
“One more thing, my dear. How did things go with Kyle Morrison last night? Have you news I can report to OmniWorld?”
“We hit it off. I have a date tonight. I didn’t even have to give him a donation.”
“Excellent.”
She wasn’t certain the night had been excellent, except for the donation part. She needed the money.
“When do I get my training session?” she asked.
“Since you are busy today, how does tomorrow sound?”
Finally! Some progress. “Great. Where shall we meet?”
“I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead. Fiona checked the number Falhman had used. Blocked. It figured he’d be all undercover and spyish. She hung up and climbed in the car.
“Problems?” George asked.
“No more than usual.”
“I heard from Mike this morning,” George said. “He’ll be home tonight.”
“Good,” she said as she pulled out of the garage. George hummphed and she added, “Not that you haven’t been a stellar employee.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She glanced over at the bodyguard. “Do you know Mike well?”
“Been working with him for about three years now.”
“Something you said the other night intrigued me. ‘They all like him better.’ What did you mean?”
“The women,” George said. “I guess it’s because he plays hard-to-get.”
“He gets involved with his clients?”
“More like they get involved with him. Or they want to.”
She understood. Mike’s macho masculinity tinged with the hint of caring she’d seen him display would make any woman feel safe. When he was around, she felt very secure.
“Even the married ones. He’s got some kind of charm. But he’s a stand-up guy. You won’t find a better man anywhere.”
She needed a good man. Knowing he would be here soon lifted her spirits. Then she remembered she wouldn’t be able to see him until the morning.
“Darn,” she said, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “I won’t be here tonight.”
George gave her a questioning look.
“I’ve got a date with Kyle Morrison, and I can’t break it.”
George laughed.
“I didn’t mean I wanted to,” she hastened to add. “I just thought I should be here to get the news about LJ.”
“Like I said, they all like him better.”
Unfortunately, George had read her right. She did have feelings for Mike. Those emotions would be a problem while she courted Kyle for less than romantic purposes.
Oh, what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to deceive.
If she wasn’t careful she’d become the fly caught in the web instead of the spider hunting prey. The thought gave her no comfort.
Her company lawyer protested when she told him she’d added another attorney to the meeting, but she overruled him, using the lie that the federal agent who’d helped her with the smuggling incident recommended she add additional counsel. Promising to put the company’s counsel first smoothed her lawyer’s bruised ego somewhat. The promise was not hard since she barely trusted Swindell. But Dad had always used the old adage Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
When Swindell entered Fiona rose to meet him, greeting him at the doorway. “I thought OmniWorld was sending a lawyer,” she whispered.
“My dear, you offend me. What makes you think I’m not a lawyer?”
“I thought you were a corporate representative, not a lawyer.”
“I am many things. Like an onion, I have layers which peel back to reveal facets you never dreamed of.”
Fiona rolled her eyes at his obtuse explanation. “A non-answer. Spoken like a true lawyer.”
She introduced him to her counsel, who rose to greet him. The two men shook hands, dancing around each other like peacocks fighting over a mate as Swindell attempted to pass and take a seat closer to where Fiona sat.
When everyone was situated, the Port Authority council opened the meeting.
“We’ve determined the cause of the ship’s sinking and have cleared your company of negligence on the part of ship maintenance. The flotation equipment appeared to be in working order, and the quick thinking on the part of your crew most likely saved their lives.”
The banging in Fiona’s heart lessened. At least she wouldn’t be facing fines for carelessness.
“However, the explosion that broke the ship in half appears to have been the result of a bomb.”
“A bomb? I didn’t—”
Her attorney grabbed her arm and squeezed, cutting off her protest. “Let them finish before you start objecting,” he whispered.
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted.
He scowled at her. She clamped her jaw shut, giving her full attention to the authorities. Were they going to accuse her of setting the bomb off on her own ship? What possible reason would she have for sabotage?
“Additionally, when our divers checked the sunken ship’s cargo hold they saw a hole had been cut in one of the containers. Did you send divers to retrieve cargo?”
“No. My insurance company advised against it. The cost of cargo retrieval, at the depth the ship sank, would be more than the total to replace the shipment.”
“Upon checking the manifest against the cargo in the aforementioned section, we discovered there were some missing items.”
“What?” she asked.
“Supposedly?”
“When it was shipped the lab sent it as dead. The anthrax was to be used to calibrate medical equipment instrumental in checking for the virus. After shipping, the lab discovered some of the anthrax shipments were not dead. The one in your ship’s hold was reported to be the live anthrax virus.
“We tried to trace the container’s destination, but all we’ve found are dead ends and shell companies.” He paused and looked over the top of his glasses at her. “Considering your recent involvement in a smuggling operation, naturally, we must explore all the possibilities.”
“My client was cleared of those charges,” her lawyer said.
“Yes, she was,” the counsel for the Port Authority replied, “and, at the moment, we have no evidence Ms. Kayler was involved in the sinking of her own ship. For now, we are going to declare her innocent of wrongdoing in the sinking of the KayFion. However, the investigation into what happened will not be closed yet.” He squared his papers and rose. “I’d advise you not to plan any out-of-country trips, Ms. Kayler, until this matter is resolved.”
“What does that mean?” Fiona asked.
“It means, my dear,” Swindell said, “they will be watching you and your shipping company.”
Trembling, Fiona sank against her chair. She had an illegal shipment of cigarettes leaving soon. Were they going to check her cargo? Watch her every move? How would she explain smuggled cigarettes? How would she manage a merger with Kyle or destroy OmniWorld when Homeland Security and the Coast Guard were watching her every move?
She rose and leaned over the table toward the Port Authority council. “I didn’t have anything to do with the sinking of the KayFion. I swear. I’ll take a polygraph test or whatever you want for proof.”
Both Swindell and her company lawyer rose, protesting together at her outburst. “I’m innocent,” she insisted when they tried to stop her remonstration.
Swindell laid his hand on her arm, the buzz from his touch breaking through her panic.
“Our client is distressed,” he told the authorities. “She will not be submitting to a lie detector test, because she has not been accused of anything.” He turned to her and locked his gaze on her. “We know you are innocent and will see you through this,” he promised.
A choked sound came from the other side of her. Swindell let go of her arm and leaned forward, addressing her company lawyer. “Do you agree with my assessment?”
The man nodded. Retrieving his briefcase, he said to Fiona, “Call me this afternoon and set an appointment. We’ll talk more about this then.” He glared at Swindell. “Privately.” Then he exited the room.
Fiona sank onto the chair as the room emptied. It was happening again, and this time she had no Federal agent to help her. She had no brother who knew the Cleveland police or other connections who could steer her through these dangerous waters. She had no one.
The buzzing in her body intensified as Swindell scooted his chair closer. No one except Swindell.
“You may be in big trouble, my dear,” Swindell said.
“No joke, and your company helped put me there.”
“Are you suggesting OmniWorld is responsible for the sinking of your ship? Because if you are, I can assure you we are not in the business of sabotage.”
“I should believe you because . . . you’re a real upstanding kind of guy? Because you represent a corporation that wouldn’t stoop to blackmail, murder, or say bombing?”
“I assure you—”
She bolted from her seat. “Assure all you want, but don’t forget I know who—what—you are. What OmniWorld is, and I wouldn’t believe a word you said any more than I’d believe a troll who told me I could cross his bridge for free.”
“There’s no need to be insulting,” Swindell said as he rose. “I can see you’re upset, so I’ll let your comments slide. But you are going to need us—need me—and when you’ve come to your senses, I will be there.” He lifted his briefcase. “You know where to reach me, when you’re ready to talk.”
When he’d exited, Fiona screamed and pounded the table. She did not need him and would never call.
The door burst open and several people raced through. “Are you okay?” they asked, their gazes searching the room frantically.
“Cockroach,” Fiona said as she stomped the floor. “Big, giant cockroaches.” That’s what Swindell was. And OmniWorld. And what the stinking investigation by the Coast Guard and Homeland Security was. “You should get an exterminator in here and kill the lot of them.”
Her frustrations partly relieved, she grabbed her things and stormed out past the confused Coast Guard employees.
Chapter 13
The minute Eli’s plane hit the ground Rhys bolted for the exit door, shifting into his hawk ego as he ran. Eli’s cries for him to stop fell on deaf ears as he swooped out of the jet into the darkened, overcast Scotland sky. Flapping his strong wings with all his might, he made for Eli’s safe house.
The sea breezes lifted him high, but he didn’t pause to coast on the currents, instead rising higher with every wing stroke. When he reached what he knew to be about one hundred feet in the air, he dove. The wind rushed over him as he raced closer to ground, angling until he reached his maximum dive velocity of about one hundred miles per hour. Then he climbed the sky once more and repeated the process. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he rushed toward his injured wife.
Was she really okay or had she downplayed her injury so he wouldn’t worry? Would the rogues harm Baron? He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. Instead of protecting his family, he had been off with Eli meeting Scottish shifters. Going about the business of the shifter world instead of caring for his own.
He screamed his frustration into the wind. The harsh cawing of his hawk ego barely registered his anger. He cawed over and over as he dived to increase his speed. Below him, the small creatures of the Scottish Isles scattered for cover when he screamed. They were luckier today than the kidnappers of his son would be when he caught them. He would kill the rogues. Tear them from limb to limb with his bare hands for daring to put his child in danger.
The stone manse came into view, and he dove for it as if it was prey. As soon as he lighted on the ground, he willed his animal into human form. Bone and sinew stretched and reformed as he urged each cell to mutate faster. The transformation completed, he dashed for the back door of the house, yelling Alexi’s name.
She appeared on the porch, her arm in a sling. Rhys skidded to a stop in front of her and gathered her in his embrace. Careful not to squeeze her injured limb, he cautiously crushed her to him as if he could absorb her into himself, kissing her head and face and lips.
“My God, Alexi. You scared me to death.” He pulled back and stared at her. Red rimmed her eyelids. She’d been crying.
“I’m sorry, Rhys,” she said. “I lost our son.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t lose him. He was ripped from you. I know you fought valiantly to protect him.”
“We all did. Donaline, me, Mary Kate, and LJ. Hugh’s friend Mike came back and tipped the balance in our favor.”
Rhys urged her into the house. “Do we have more news about Mike and Mary Kate?”
“Nothing yet. They promised to let us know when they got to Cleveland.”
“If Falhman’s rogues get there before Mary Kate and Mike, and they will because of the head start they got, I don’t expect Falhman to be in Cleveland. He has to know we’ll follow the rogues back to him.”
“Mike’s getting someone to watch the penthouse. He’ll tail Falhman when he leaves and lead us right to the babies.” Alexi paused and gazed hopefully at him. “Maybe he does
n’t know he’s got Baron. Maybe he really was after LJ and Hugh’s son.”
Rhys hated to contradict her, but deep in his heart he knew Baron was in trouble. “Then why take Baron?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because they didn’t know which child was Hugh,” LJ said. “The boys are about the same age. Even if they had a photo it might be hard to tell them apart. Same size, same dark hair.”
Same heritage. LJ’s comment didn’t improve Rhys’ angst. If Falhman suspected the children were related, his first action would be a DNA test. Then he would know he had his grandson. The rogue kingpin pulled the same trick on him and his brother Roc. Why would this be different?
The sound of a helicopter beat the air above the house.
“Eli’s here,” Rhys said. “Are you ready to go?”
Alexi pointed to a row of suitcases by the front door. “I took the liberty of packing for you and Eli.”
Rhys counted the bags. “Five? We should travel lighter.”
“There not all ours. One belongs to LJ and the other to Donaline.”
Rhys shook his head, but Alexi stepped in closer and whispered, “LJ has to come. It’s her baby.”
“Donaline’s too old for this trip. We’ll be fighting.”
“She can hold her own, Rhys. Trust me.”
“Besides, laddie, ye’ll be needing a nanny when we’ve got the wee ones.” Donaline stepped within inches of Rhys, her arms akimbo, eyes daring him to forbid her to go.
“Ye might as well give in, laddie,” Eli said from the doorway. “When Donaline makes up her mind, there’s nae changing it.”