Immovable Objects

by Marie Ferrarella

  She realized that he thought she was talking about what they were going to pull off. If she took the easy way out and said yes, she knew he would ply her with a dozen questions. “No, about…a friend. It’s probably nothing.”

  Damn it, he wished he was sure she was leveling with him. But he wasn’t. The woman was a huge mass of secrets. “Look, if you’re having second thoughts because I’m using Hagen—”

  “Not the smartest thing you’ve done,” she told him glibly, getting her wind back, “but we’ll manage. Like you said, if this gets tripped up, then we know he’s our man.”

  Elizabeth forced a smile to her lips, hoping her response would placate Cole. Wishing she could find a way to placate herself.

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just had a premonition.

  They got back into line. Taking advantage of the lull, she closed her eyes and concentrated.

  Anthony, if you can hear me, if you can sense me, find Jeremy. Find Jeremy, she repeated over and over, hoping that Anthony wasn’t still blocking her thoughts the way he had been when she’d first moved out. Please, Anthony, please let me in. Jeremy needs help.

  Anthony stared at the disks on his coffee table. Getting in and out of the lab had been so incredibly easy, it was almost insulting to someone of his talents. All he’d had to do was disarm the system, which was far from state-of-the art. His “gifts” had taken care of that.

  The whole venture had lasted less than an hour from start to finish once he’d acquainted himself with the layout of the place. His sense of distrust coupled with intense curiosity had him making copies of the disks for himself. He intended to examine them when he got the chance, just to see what the fuss was all about. If he ran into trouble, he could always hand them over to Lizzie. She was a whiz when it came to software—

  He stopped abruptly. No, no handing it to Lizzie. No Lizzie at all. Damn it, where had she gotten to? Why wasn’t she—

  Anthony stiffened. It felt as if a current had just zapped through him.

  Was it his imagination?

  Memories of communications came flooding back to him. When they’d been separated as children, he and Dani and Lizzie had communicated with one another like this in a desperate attempt to remain linked.

  He shook off the feeling. Had to be his imagination. Elizabeth wouldn’t try to get in contact with him. She was off somewhere, spreading her damn wings and pretending that she knew how to glide without colliding into buildings or whatever.

  And yet…

  And yet there was this urgency that was ricocheting through his brain. A feeling he couldn’t come to terms with. It was like a message coming across with interference riddled all through it.

  Something about Jeremy. About going to see Jeremy.

  But he’d just been at Jeremy’s house the other night. He was planning on going there tomorrow to drop off the disks for their client and get his share of the fee.

  The urgency grew.

  He couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that if he didn’t go now, it would be too late. He knew better than to ignore his instincts.

  Anthony slipped the disks into an envelope, then placed the envelope inside his jacket pocket. Muttering a ripe oath under his breath, he got into his car and drove for the house he still considered his home.

  “We know you know. Now, are you going to tell us where those freaks can be found, or do we have to beat it out of you?” The heavyset man with the shaven head whacked his fist against his palm. The sound thundered against Jeremy’s ear.

  “Why don’t you make it easy on yourself, fella, and come clean?” his partner taunted.

  The two men were both cast out of the same mold, bought for their muscle, not their brain power or their hearts. Between them, they hadn’t enough for one, much less two. But they were good at their job, which was intimidation.

  “You’ve already lost a lot of blood,” the second one was saying. “No reason to lose your life.”

  Jeremy’s eyes were almost swollen shut now, and his breathing was labored. They’d cracked two of his ribs, maybe more. He struggled to press his hand against the pain, but they’d broken his fingers and he couldn’t.

  His head was reeling. Part of him had always worried that he would come to this kind of end. What was it his mother had once said? You lie with dogs, you’re bound to get fleas.

  But this was a great deal more serious than an attack of fleas.

  “Please.” With effort, he managed to raise his hands before his beaten face, weakly attempting to ward off any further blows. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  He wasn’t a noble man, but this one thing, he could do. He could protect the three he had brought into his home. Most likely, it would be the last thing he would do.

  Delirium was beginning to shred his thoughts. He struggled to hang on to consciousness a little while longer, terrified that once he let go, he would die.

  “The trail ends here, you lying son of a bitch. You know,” the larger of the two thugs insisted impatiently, his face a contoured mask of red. Swinging his hamlike fists back, he landed another blow on Jeremy’s face, smashing his nose.

  Suddenly, the door burst open.

  The two thugs, both employed by Titan, found themselves looking down the barrel of a gun and a very angry man dressed all in black.

  “You’ve got until the count of three to get the hell away from him,” Anthony growled at them malevolently.

  One glance at Jeremy on the floor had his heart twisting inside his chest. Anger poured through Anthony’s veins like molten lava. Even as he issued the ultimatum to the thugs, he was cocking the gun he’d taken from Jeremy’s hall closet.

  “You can’t shoot both of us at the same time!” the larger of the two thugs taunted. Momentarily abandoning their victim, the two men began to close in on Anthony.

  “No, but I can kill one of you.” Seething, barely able to restrain his desire to pump all the bullets in the handgun into the duo, he ground out the question, “So, who’s feeling lucky today?”

  Handguns had never been his thing. Consequently, he wasn’t much of a shot, but with a Magnum, he didn’t need to be. Aiming it in the general vicinity of the target was all that was necessary to blow that target away.

  And the two men knew it.

  As if they were of one mind, the two men ran for the window. Glass broke as they dove right through, neither one of them wanting to risk being the one that Anthony chose as his first target.

  At any other time, he would have taken care of business before they even reached the window. But right now his mind wasn’t on killing, it was on saving. If he wasted time on the two thugs, it might be all the time that Jeremy had left on this earth.

  It was no contest.

  The two men were temporarily forgotten as Anthony dropped to his knees beside the man who’d pulled his sisters and him out of the gutter. Jeremy was bleeding badly and his breath came in short gasps.

  “Who were they?” he whispered to Jeremy.

  But Jeremy couldn’t answer him. He’d slipped into unconsciousness.

  For the first time in a very long while, Anthony felt tears gathering. Wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve, he took out his cell phone.

  “Hang in there, Jeremy,” he ordered gruffly. “Help’s coming.”

  He punched in 9-1-1.

  And wondered where Elizabeth was.

  Chapter 13

  “Why don’t you leave him?”

  Elizabeth shifted her weight ever so slightly. MacFarland’s arm was tucked possessively around her. It was as close to groping her as could be gotten away with in such a public gathering. She kept a seductive, inviting smile on her lips while doing a mental countdown. She had hoped to be in possession of the statue by now, but MacFarland had insisted on cornering her. He’d monopolized her for a good ten minutes now and gave no sign of letting up.

  “Why?” She looked deeply into his watery eyes, imagining Cole’s instead. “Are you
going to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”

  “Perhaps.” He ran his hand up and down her arm. It took effort for her not to shiver. “I know I could appreciate a woman like you far more than Williams can. Why don’t you stay after the party and we can pick up where we left off the other night?”

  “It’s bad manners not to leave with the man who brought me.” She paused significantly as a petulant expression came over MacFarland’s features. “But there’s nothing in the rules about not returning after I leave.”

  He laughed then, looking pleased. The air of triumph in his manner threatened to turn her stomach. “I’ll keep a light burning in the window.”

  She ran her hand along his cheek, promise in her every gesture. “I’ll look for it.”

  Knowing that he was watching her, she turned and began to walk away, her hips a slow symphony of movement guaranteed to leave him wanting. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cole watching her as well. He didn’t look like a man who was pleased by what he was witnessing. Was that for MacFarland’s benefit? Or had an unguarded moment escaped?

  She was allowing her feelings to color her perception. Of course it was for show. For Cole to be jealous, she would have had to mean something to him. She knew that. And yet…

  MacFarland caught her arm. When she looked at him quizzically, he nodded in Cole’s direction.

  “He’s watching us, you know.” The edges of his smile became malevolent. “He looks jealous.”

  She feigned interest as she studied him. “Does that matter?”

  He made no pretense of indifference. She wouldn’t have believed it if he had. “Absolutely,” MacFarland said with gusto.

  You slime bucket, she thought as she smiled up into his eyes. Picking up a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray, she raised it before MacFarland. “To later,” she toasted.

  Holding her hand, he took a sip from her glass. “To later,” he echoed.

  “And now,” she said, disengaging herself from the man, “I have to go make nice.”

  “Not too nice,” MacFarland’s voice followed her as she made her way toward Cole.

  Elizabeth abandoned her drink on the first flat surface she encountered, not wanting to place her mouth anywhere near where MacFarland’s had been. She was surprised her flesh hadn’t crept off her body.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that her place had been immediately taken by several other people, all vying for the man’s attention. Everyone wanted to get close to MacFarland.

  Just as they did to Cole, she thought. It had to be hard, being a target for every hanger-on, every person hungry to advance. How did they ever go about separating the real from the fake? How did someone like Cole stay grounded?

  Everyone had his problems, she supposed. Hers was keeping her mind on her work and not on the man who made her body temperature rise a few degrees every time she was close to him.

  Their eyes met and she smiled, inclining her head ever so slightly. Cole looked pleased. The hint of a smile on his lips made her heart flutter.

  Damn it, she had to exercise better control over herself than that. But she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this was only temporary. Her brain knew it, but somehow the message wasn’t getting through to the rest of her. Where it counted.

  Finally, she managed to reach Cole, much to the annoyance of the woman who was trying to monopolize his attention. He nodded toward the woman, then ushered Elizabeth to the side, away from the general crowd.

  “So?”

  She got in closer to him, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “So he thinks you’re jealous and he’s all but jumping up and down with glee.” It was the kind of behavior she just couldn’t comprehend. “How could anyone as childish as MacFarland have gone so far in the business world?”

  Because of the incident with the statue, he’d made it a point to become more familiar with the other man’s dealings. In Cole’s book, Jonathan MacFarland was only an average businessman, not a savvy one. “It helps to have Daddy’s and Grandpa’s money to play with. MacFarland’s lost more than he’s gained.”

  “Which is why he wants to get one up on you,” Elizabeth concluded. She glanced at her watch. It was later than she liked. “I think I should get this show moving.” Since he was in charge of this, she waited for his input. “What about you?”

  “Sounds good to me.” But as he began to go with her, Elizabeth shook her head.

  “This is a one-person job,” she whispered against his ear. “You can distract MacFarland if he comes looking for me. Feed his ego.” They both knew that was the best way to go. “Tell him how well the show is going at the gallery. Let him dream a little about your upcoming fall from grace.”

  Cole grinned. “You are a wicked woman.”

  She laughed, patting his face. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  But he wanted to, he thought, watching her disappear around the corner as she slipped behind the winding stairway. He really wanted to.

  Making her way toward the rear of the house, Elizabeth saw the demographics of the people populating the area change drastically. In the front of the house were the beautiful people, dressed to the teeth, exchanging witticisms, oblivious of the “help” except when it came to having their glasses refilled. In the rear of the house were the working people. The servers, the caterers. All the ones who made sure the people in the front of the house had everything they needed to have a good time.

  This was where Hagen was supposed to be.

  She scanned the area, looking for him. She finally saw the man halfway across the kitchen, a tray of empty champagne glasses in his hand.

  As if sensing her, Hagen turned his head in her direction. Eye contact was brief, accompanied by a slight nod. It told her everything she wanted to know. The cart, with the statue hidden on the shelf behind the tablecloth, was in place.

  Keeping well out of everyone’s way, Elizabeth made her way beyond the kitchen, toward the door she knew led down to the sub-basement—where MacFarland kept his rare treasures.

  The cart, displaying a bright white linen tablecloth draped over it, was standing before the closet. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching her, she crossed to it and the door.

  Just before she reached it, she disengaged the lock, making the door ready to be opened.

  There was no one around. All the activity was in the kitchen and the dining area. Elizabeth raised the cloth and saw the package they’d given Hagen at the beginning of the evening.

  Taking it, she quickly let herself in through the unlocked door and shut it behind her. There was just the barest hint of light inside the narrow passageway. It wafted like seductive smoke deep into the bowels of the mansion.

  So far, no surprises, she thought.

  Elizabeth paused to unwrap the package, removing the fake statue that Lorenzo had fashioned for Cole. Also packed inside were a pair of plastic gloves and the night goggles she used to see if there were any auxiliary laser beams still activated. Elizabeth slipped on both.

  She’d already deactivated that part of the security system via the computer just before they’d left for the party, as well as threading a video loop so that she could go about her work unobserved by any cameras.

  But she knew better than to take anything for granted.

  Holding on to the banister, she made her way down the winding narrow stairs slowly. It felt as if it was taking forever, even though the distance from the top of the stairs to MacFarland’s secret room was not that far.

  Finally, she reached the room. Elizabeth paused before the door, concentrating. She took her time scanning the area, knowing that to hurry might cost her the entire mission.

  But there was nothing.

  No auxiliary system that turned on, no secondary alarms to deactivate. No silent alarms that went off when the slightest pressure was applied. It seemed that down here, in his private playground, MacFarland’s ego took over. It was obvious that he felt no one could get by his m
en and his surveillance system on the upper floors. That made the room down here safe.

  Hardly, she thought.

  Just for good measure, she scanned everything again. The result was the same. All the safeguards had been taken out. She could proceed.

  Acclimating to the room, Elizabeth walked in. Even if she hadn’t been the art lover she was, the room would have taken her breath away. Under other circumstances, she would have loved nothing better than to sit here, drinking in the priceless works of art. They made what graced the walls on the floors above pale in comparison.

  The street price of what she was looking at was astounding. There were thieves she knew who would have killed to be standing where she was right now.

  And then she saw it. Against the far wall, commanding attention and homage. Venus. Smiling as if she had some sort of a secret to impart.

  Your only secret is that you are not leaving with the man who brought you, Elizabeth thought.

  Inch by careful inch, she made her way slowly to the pedestal, taking care to scan her path every step of the way.

  But again, there was nothing.

  This was almost too convenient, Elizabeth thought. And when something was too good to be true, it usually wasn’t true.

  There had to be something she was missing.

  And then it hit her. The pedestal that the statue was perched on was probably weight-sensitive. Which meant that the second she lifted the statue off, some kind of an alarm, some kind of signal, would go off somewhere, alerting a guard to what was happening here.

  Elizabeth worked her lower lip. This, she thought as she looked at the statue in her arms, was going to take precision, a great deal of it.

  Bracing herself, clearing her mind, she began to inch the statue slowly along the pedestal, bringing it to the edge at the same time that she moved the one she’d brought in to take its place. The process was slow, painstaking. Before long, her arms were trembling from the effort, not to mention the strain of holding one statue while balancing the other. They weren’t too heavy, weighing in at approximately twenty-five pounds each, but they were swiftly approaching feeling like a ton each.