Under Pressure

by Lori Foster

  Then Tesh could live out his life in peace...with little Catalina.

  Pacing in the dim interior of the bankrupt shop, a property he’d acquired on his own so Platt would know nothing about it, Tesh thought out his plan.

  The easiest course now would be to shadow Platt. Eventually the senator would come after him, or he’d go after Catalina. Either way, when he moved, Tesh would have him.

  Platt might suspect, and might attempt to cover himself. But Tesh had trained every man who worked for him. He knew their habits, their strengths and their weaknesses.

  As an added advantage, Tesh had used the years of burying the senator’s secrets and sweeping up his messes to build his own alliances, contacts that rivaled those of the senator’s.

  With a grim smile, Tesh anticipated the coming conflict. He knew he’d come out on top. Didn’t he always?

  But that was for tomorrow; tonight he had to figure out the ramifications of the massive fuck-up perpetrated at the agency. Far as he could tell there was only one loose end.

  The secretary had survived.

  Unlike Johnson and Miller, that diminutive man would tell everything he could. Tesh admired his guts even as he plotted ways to finish him off.

  If they hadn’t been in such a congested area with work crews a mere block away, Tesh would have put a bullet in Enoch’s brain. But gunshot had a way of drawing attention. At the very least, he should have cut Enoch’s throat and let him bleed out.

  But the need for violence had gotten the better of him, and so he’d gotten sloppy, using his hands instead of a weapon.

  Regret was a son of a bitch.

  Maybe he should just bomb the hospital? Kill them all... No. That would bring out far too much scrutiny. He wouldn’t even be able to move in the shadows without someone spotting him.

  As he paced, Tesh considered his options.

  The police had no doubt already talked to Webb, alerting him to his daughter’s whereabouts. The fighter would be sticking to her closer than ever. And Ms. Silver would have hidden her someplace very secure.

  Where are you, kitten?

  He jammed his hands in his pockets and found the papers he’d taken from Enoch’s briefcase. Moving to a window where the light from streetlamps penetrated, Tesh skimmed the notes, looking for something useful—

  Ah, the itinerary.

  Given all that happened, the schedule had probably changed, but just in case... Tesh smiled as he began to read in detail.

  * * *

  THE SUN CAME out with a vengeance, as if it hoped to lift the spirits of the glum group gathered around Sahara’s kitchen table, imbibing massive amounts of coffee. Leese didn’t always like to use the artificial adrenaline of caffeine to get his day going, but this wasn’t just any day.

  For half the night, he’d stayed awake in the darkness, hard and hurting because of it, wanting Cat, listening to her breathe and wondering how he was going to save her.

  He never had come up with an answer.

  With no other clothes to choose from, Leese had stuck with his slacks and nothing more. It might be disrespectful in front of his boss, but Sahara was now more than that. She’d seen him naked, helped him conspire to keep authorities in the dark, and had tacitly accepted his relationship with a client. They’d left the employer/employee boundary in the dust.

  Justice continually yawned, his eyes barely open even though he frowned. He looked to be in a similar state of antsy unrest. His Mohawk listed to the side in an odd sort of bed-head style. He, at least, had been able to change into jogging pants and a white T-shirt.

  In the too-big pajamas she’d pulled back on, Cat looked adorably small. She also looked uncertain and vulnerable.

  Sahara, the only one with her eyes wide open, had her long brown hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid. Even without makeup, she was beautiful. She wore a gown and matching robe in soft gray with pink trim, and pink slippers. Very pretty.

  Justice nodded at Leese’s bandaged side. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine.” He gave his friend a “drop it” look. The last thing he wanted was for Cat to start fretting. He turned to Sahara. “I’m heading to the agency today. I need to grab a few things.”

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Give me another hour and I’ll call the attorneys to see if they were able to hustle the cops along. The last I heard yesterday evening, it shouldn’t be a problem. There’s no question that those men intruded, and that you did only what you needed to do.”

  Justice asked, “Why do the cops think they were there?”

  “They know Catalina is from a wealthy family. The general consensus, without any truth volunteered from us, was that they hoped to rob her.” Sahara shook her head. “But that’s flimsy at best. Still, there’s no one to tell them otherwise. Not unless we decide to share the whole truth—”

  “We can’t,” Cat said, without looking up from her coffee.

  “No, we can’t,” Sahara agreed. “Not yet anyway.” Distracted, she glanced at Leese, down to his chest, then away. “I meant to tell you yesterday, but in the middle of the confusion, I forgot. Those two men you ran into at Catalina’s house?”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re missing.”

  Interest sharpened, Leese sat forward. “Missing, as in they didn’t show up for work, or they’re presumed dead?”

  “I’d go with the latter. My PI checked into it, of course, and they haven’t been seen since the day you found them at her house.” She nodded at Cat. “My guess is that someone didn’t like the way they’d screwed up.”

  Brows beetled, Cat went back to sipping her coffee.

  “Also, that license plate you got back when Tesh first approached you? It doesn’t match any registered car, yet it’s the same plate on the car that Enoch escaped.”

  Well, hell. Leese sat back in his seat. “Completely fake plates?”

  “On a now-abandoned car.” She sipped her coffee and sighed. “Under normal circumstances, it could be days before the crime scene is cleared. But my attorneys explained that we didn’t have days. After all, Body Armor is a business...” She waited a heartbeat before adding, “...and we have a party tomorrow.”

  Disbelief hit Leese. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I am.”

  Just as stunned, Justice said, “That’s fucking nuts.”

  Cat sat frozen, silent, her eyes huge.

  Sahara stood to refill her coffee. “I have important clients coming.” She carried the carafe back to the table. “And it’s also part of my plan.”

  Less controlled than Leese, Justice said, “So share the damn plan already.”

  “So surly.” After refilling each cup, she took her seat again. “The list of attendees for the party includes some of our most important clients. Those who had high-profile cases, nothing secretive. But we executed our obligations with professionalism, so we now have their loyalty.” She smiled. “And that means Senator Platt will also be in attendance.”

  Leese nearly lurched out of his chair. “What?”

  With a casual shrug, Sahara said, “He is—or rather was—a preferred client. It’s well-known that Body Armor provided security during speaking engagements and special appearances. He’s endorsed the agency with other important clients.” She glanced at Cat. “Of course, that was before I knew of his proclivity for rape, violence and murder. Now that I do know, I need to destroy him.”

  Churning with fury that hadn’t really died from the day before, Leese demanded, “By using Cat as bait?”

  “How else? And while nothing is without risk, I do have several ways to ensure her safety.”

  Done with the discussion, Leese said a flat, “No.”

  “It’s not up to you,” Sahara told him, and her gaze again shift
ed to Cat. Gently, she said, “Don’t you want to end this? Once and for all?”

  Cat drew a slow, shaky breath, and nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

  “I can help you with that.”

  “I said no,” Leese repeated, the fury escalating with each second.

  Pretending he wasn’t out of control, Sahara said, “That dress we got for Catalina? I have one that matches. If we both wear our hair up, and her heels are high enough, we could be mistaken for each other.”

  “You look nothing alike,” Leese argued.

  “Believe me, two society women attending the same party would never be caught in the same dress. The dress alone will be enough to cause confusion. But from a distance, in dim light, we’ll be able to pull it off.”

  Slowly, Justice sat up straighter. “So you’re the actual bait?”

  She flapped a hand. “We need the villains to see Catalina joining the party. Once she’s inside though, we’ll tuck her away safely and I’ll wait—all isolated and alone at a chosen location in the agency—for someone to make a grab for me.”

  “Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” Justice growled.

  “It’s insane,” Leese agreed.

  She continued without worry. “And once they do, you two can grab them. At the same time, we’ll keep tabs on Platt without him knowing. He’ll likely be trying to leave once he thinks Catalina is secured, and we can follow him and—”

  Leese threw up his hands. “That’s the most idiotic, reckless plan I’ve ever heard.”

  Sahara slowly stood to face him. “Do you forget that you work for me?”

  “You want my resignation?” he challenged. “Fine. Consider it given. But Cat’s not getting anywhere near—”

  “I’m going.”

  All eyes switched to stare at Cat. She sat with her shoulders back, her chin lifted, and in her gaze Leese saw a sort of fatalistic acceptance.

  “No,” Leese growled, “you are not.”

  “It’s not your decision to make.”

  Without denying or affirming that, he said again, “You’re not going.”

  Cat, too, pushed back her chair and stood to face off with him.

  Great, just what this situation didn’t need: her stubbornness.

  Justice looked around at each of them, sighed and came to his feet. “If anyone cares, I’m voting with Leese on this.”

  Sahara slanted him a look. “Learn when to be silent.”

  “Sure. But not this morning.”

  Knowing Cat wouldn’t care what Justice thought about it, Leese said, “Be reasonable, Cat.”

  “I was going to say the same to you.” Full of defiance, she stared up at him. “If this thing is going to work between us, you have to respect me.”

  This thing? What the hell did that mean? “Of course I do.”

  “Then you should know that I can make up my own mind about things. You have to understand that I can—”

  Leese leaned into her space. “You have to understand that I don’t want to lose you.”

  She breathed faster, then whispered, “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that. You can’t know it.” He flagged a hand in Sahara’s direction. “Not with her sketchy-as-hell plan that’s riddled with holes.”

  Using that as her opening, Sahara said, “And that brings us back to this little powwow around the table. Let’s work through the details, take care of those holes and make the plan as solid as we can.” She touched Leese’s arm. “There’s no better idea and you know it. Not if Catalina is ever going to be free to get on with her life.”

  A life with him hopefully in it.

  Cat hugged him tight. “It’ll work,” she insisted.

  But in her voice he heard the same desperation he felt. She only believed it’d work because it had to.

  He couldn’t accept any other outcome.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CAT STOOD IN the spacious conference room of Body Armor and tried to relax. Not easy. More than fifty well-known guests were in attendance, filling the room and spilling out to the main hall and an entry room.

  Sahara flitted about, visiting each couple, each area, playing the perfect hostess. Justice, ever vigilant, stayed within reach of her.

  But Cat, following the plan, didn’t budge from the conference room.

  Neither did Leese—for good reason.

  Across the room from her, Senator Platt held court.

  Watching him speak with self-assumed importance, hearing him laugh without a care, seeing the way he casually touched others...her skin crawled. The man was a monster, and knowing he pretended otherwise only made hatred burn within her.

  Those around him probably saw him as an earnest, caring, gentle soul. They didn’t know the depths of his depravity or how vicious he’d be when his phony disguise was threatened.

  Two staid guards flanked him. Being still, deliberately imposing, wearing severe expressions, they had nothing in common with the Body Armor team, who looked friendly and companionable. Powerful, yes. Capable, yes.

  But somehow, far more real.

  To help build up the ruse, Leese kept his distance from her, but never, not at any moment, was he unaware of her. She knew it, felt it.

  Someone bumped her, and Cat, who’d been concentrating on the senator, nearly yelped.

  An elderly woman patted her arm, said, “Excuse me,” and moved on past.

  A strained breath strangled out of Cat. Good Lord, she was jumpy...and ill at ease. The largest part of her discomfort was due to the senator. But the rest had to do with her general unease at large formal functions.

  Despite the beautiful outfit Sahara had provided and the finishing touches given to her hair, nails and makeup, she still felt like a fraud.

  Yes, she was as polished as any other woman there, but none of it fit her, not the real her.

  Ideally she’d have done her own hair and makeup, but in order to better match Sahara, she’d given in to the professional stylist.

  Currently, Sahara wore a red gown.

  None of this would have worked if they’d entered the party in the same blue dress. But any minute now Sahara would excuse herself, change into the dress, shoes and jewelry that matched Cat’s, and then they’d wait for a murderer to strike.

  When the senator suddenly locked eyes with Cat, it was all she could do to hide her loathing and abhorrence.

  Especially when he excused himself from the other guests and started toward her with the two guards following close behind. The thumping of her heart drowned out all other noise. Cat did her best not to look at Leese. He saw it all, of course, but this would work better if the senator remained unaware of the net closing in.

  When Platt got close enough, he reached for her hand.

  Cat snatched it away. Touching him? No, that she couldn’t do.

  “Catalina,” he chided in his soft, grandfather’s voice. He glanced at the guards and they turned their backs, watching the crowd, ensuring privacy.

  “I haven’t told anyone,” Cat lied in a whisper.

  “Of course not.” His slick smile made her stomach roil. “There’s nothing for you to tell, now is there?”

  Pig, she thought inwardly, but outwardly, she only whispered, “No.”

  For only a second, the pretense of “sweet elderly man” slipped, showing the sick, deviant freak. “You need to return to your father.”

  With just the right quaver in her voice, Cat said, “Not until I know I won’t be hurt.”

  “Hurt by whom?” He eased nearer, crowding her personal space. “Sweet child, tell me what you’re afraid of and I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

  Pure menace glittered in his eyes as he stared into her soul. Cat swallowed, trying to think with him staring so hard. “T
esh.”

  “Ah, yes. He was ruthless, wasn’t he? Necessary. Very necessary.”

  Was? She went on high alert. Had the senator done away with Tesh?

  As if confiding in her, Platt said, “There are those people who would use my public stature against me.”

  Anger outpaced fear and she asked recklessly, “Like Georgia Bell?”

  His face pinched. Through lips that barely moved, he said, “I have no idea who that is.”

  Realization of what she’d just done sent a flush of panicked heat rolling through Cat, leaving her faint. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I shouldn’t have...” Stick to the plan, Cat. “I need to go.”

  “You don’t need to fear Tesh any longer,” he promised her. “Our association has...ended.”

  If he’d killed Tesh, that would be one fewer person for her to worry about.

  Rather than risk asking questions, she turned away—and his cold thin fingers clamped around her wrist with crushing insistence. When he spoke, she felt his damp breath on her temple and smelled the shrimp hors d’oeuvres he’d eaten.

  Her stomach lurched.

  “My child, you have tried my patience enough. You either head home to your father tonight, or you’re going to start losing loved ones.” His grip tightened more. “Is that clear?”

  No longer caring if she caused a scene, Cat jerked free and faced him again, doing her own fair share of crowding. “Who are you threatening?” she demanded to know. “Webb?” The laugh sounded close to a choke, proving she had very mixed feelings about that.

  He didn’t smile. Idly, as if it didn’t matter to him, he said, “Or your brothers.” Watching her, he gauged her reaction to that, and added carelessly, “Whoever is most important to you, my dear. That’s the way leverage works.”

  Definitely past time for her to retreat. “Could...could we speak privately? Please? I just... I’m afraid of being overheard and I need...” Forcing another stammer, she said, “I need...reassurances.”