“Jimmy. Jimmy!” she called out again.
The cool, well-lit, warehouse-like space with wall-to-wall boxes and crates was massive. Francine knew she would never find Jimmy if he was still out on patrol, so she slowed her pace and headed for the small guards’ stand at the front of the museum. Before she could make it to the museum floor entrance, she noticed from the corner of her eye a man sitting slumped over in a chair at a small table. He looked like he was asleep.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Francine said out loud, her anger on full display.
Francine made her way over to the table and stood in front of it. “Jimmy! Jimmy, wake up!” she yelled.
When he didn’t respond, Francine reached out and tried to shake him. The moment she touched his shoulder, a pain of recognition pierced her heart. Francine quickly checked his pulse...it was weak. She snatched her hand back. Simultaneously, her left hand clutched her cross necklace, and the right hand reached for her gun.
Before Francine could react to what lay before her, a sharp pain pierced her head and darkness suddenly surrounded her.
* * *
Meeks walked toward Farrah’s office, throwing up his left hand to stop her assistant’s protest. While Farrah’s office was designed exactly like her sister’s, Farrah’s furnishings were mostly contemporary. The large oval-shaped curly redwood desk with a turquoise inlay that her sister had made was the focal point of the room. In the area where Francine had chosen to put a sofa, Farrah had placed a six-seat round conference table, made of the same wood, with red leather high-back chairs. Francine’s wall of shelves housed mostly books, but Farrah’s had a mixture of books, antique art pieces and a small built-in fully stocked bar.
“Farrah, where’s Cine?” he demanded. “She’s not in her office, and Jeremy said she’s out for the rest of the day. I checked upstairs, but she’s not there. Is everything okay?” Meeks asked, trying to keep his voice level. “Did she go to the doctor or something?”
“Well, hello to you, too, Meeks...come on in,” Farrah said, looking up from the document she’d been reading. “Calm down. Cine’s fine. She had some errands to run.”
Meeks shifted through a few scenarios in his mind, and things he could remember that Cine had told him. But if he gauged it correctly, she should have been back in the office by now.
Farrah peered at him a moment, then pushed her long hair that she’d released from its tight bun off her face. Seconds later, she sat back in her chair and intertwined her hands, resting them in her lap.
Robert entered Farrah’s office with a determined look on his face. “Morgan’s on lockdown. Where’s Cine?” he asked.
“Out.” Farrah sat up straighter in her chair. “What’s going on?”
“Call her...get her back here,” Robert said, looking at both Meeks and Farrah.
“I already tried. Her phone’s going right to voice mail. What happened?” Meeks asked, fisting his hands at his sides.
“When I went to turn Morgan over to Gary for safekeeping, I heard him murmuring to himself.” Robert removed his hat and tossed it in a nearby chair. “He said something to the effect of, I should never have listened to her. I knew she was crazy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Meeks asked, frowning.
“What the hell’s going on?” Farrah demanded as she stood.
Meeks held up his right index finger, and she froze. He needed to concentrate on whatever news Robert was about to deliver.
“I asked that same question, and get this,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Jasmine brought the Bluebonnet deal to his attention in the first place. She convinced him to borrow the money needed for the buy-in from Tiffany. She even helped him set up the dummy accounts so they could keep track of the money they never intended to pay back.”
“They?” Meeks asked, frowning.
“Apparently this thing started off as a partnership until Jasmine pulled back,” Robert said.
“Yeah, leaving Bill Morgan holding the bag,” Meeks said, running his right hand down his face.
“Then she convinced Tiffany to move her security to us...right after the blackmail payments stopped.”
“Why?” Meeks asked, a sense of unease settling into his soul.
“Jasmine told him she had unfinished business with someone here. She said that while the bitch in charge—her words, not mine—was useless, the head man over here was brilliant and that this new affiliation could lead to some unique opportunities for both of them...and the greedy bastard fell for it.”
Meeks’s eyes grew wide with surprise and fear.
Robert’s phone beeped. He reached for his cell, which was attached to his belt. Robert slid through a couple of screens and read the message that appeared, and then frowned. “Meeks, our guy at the bank just emailed me Jasmine’s financials. You have to see this.” He handed the phone over.
Meeks read through the messages. “Shit!”
Farrah had come around her desk and stood between the two men. “Will one of you please tell me what the hell’s going on?”
Robert took Farrah’s hand and led her over to the conference table across the room, and they both took a seat. He kept their hands intertwined and squeezed hers gently while Meeks walked over to the small bar that was adjacent to the conference table and poured a double shot of the single malt that Farrah stored for stressful occasions like these. He downed his glass, and the smooth taste went to work immediately, filling him with warmth that he hoped would push away the cold feeling that lingered in his fear-ravaged body. He poured glasses for both Robert and Farrah and brought them over to the table.
Meeks took the seat across from Farrah. “Drink,” he ordered, handing them each a glass.
Farrah and Robert both downed the brown liquid within seconds. But she slammed her glass to the table. “Now, will one of you please tell me what the hell is going on? I know it’s got to be something big if I need a drink before you tell me,” she said.
Both men took care in bringing Farrah up to speed on everything they had learned and ultimately deduced. Meeks went on to explain to both her and Robert about Jasmine’s visit and the things that she’d said.
“So you think Jasmine is behind all of this because she hates my sister and is still all hot and bothered for you?” Farrah said, shaking her head. “Sorry, I just don’t think that’s a good enough motive. This could be some crazy coincidence.”
Meeks sat back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. “Look, all I know is...Jasmine manipulated her way onto this team, and then she lied to me about her relationship with Tiffany.” Meeks dug his right fist into the palm of his left hand. “We have a sophisticated trail leading us to Bill Morgan that she could have easily constructed.”
Robert leaned forward and placed his forearms against the table. “My gut tells me she’s the one that’s been blackmailing Morgan. We just found a bank account in Jasmine’s deceased father’s name with deposits in the exact amount of the blackmail payments, along with some other rather large deposits that were being made. And since we all know Jergens couldn’t have been stalking Tiffany without help, she fits that bill, too.”
Farrah started a slow pace around the room as she started French-braiding her hair. “Okay, let’s say you’re both right about everything. What does she want?”
“Who the hell knows?” Robert said.
Meeks pulled out his phone and tried calling Francine again. “Shit! Why is she still not answering her damn phone?” he said to the room.
“Did you try the apartment?” Robert asked.
“Of course I did!” he snapped. Meeks released a deep sigh. “Track her,” he said.
“On it,” Robert replied as he pulled out his phone.
“That won’t work. She didn’t wear her tracking watch,” Farrah explained.
“Why the hell not? Where was she going?” Meeks demanded, slamming his fist against the table.
“Roger’s kid got sick, and Cine offered to cover his last two stops—the Weinberg School and the Buffalo Soldiers Museum. Since she was only covering breaks and food runs, she didn’t think she needed it. After that, she was going to pick up dinner for you two at Jamaica House.”
“Did she wear her cross?” Meeks asked, silently praying that she had.
She placed a hand on her hip. “The diamond cross necklace our mom gave us? Of course, she always wears it when she’s working. You know that.”
Meeks looked over at Robert and said, “Call Jeremy for the tracking number and—”
“Wait, you put a tracking device on her necklace...her favorite necklace?” she asked with wide eyes.
Robert nodded his agreement and began dialing on his phone.
“She’s going to kill you when she finds out you’ve been keeping tabs on her. You know that, right?”
“Let’s find her first,” Meeks answered. “She can kill me later.” His forehead creased as he came to a sudden realization. He turned to Farrah. “Wait. Did you say she was going to the Buffalo Soldiers Museum?”
“Yeah, it was one of Roger’s last stops,” Farrah said with a puzzled look on her face.
“Not possible. We just got a notice that they’re moving their business. I haven’t had a chance to tell Francine yet. They aren’t our clients anymore,” he said.
“And the museum is closed for renovations,” Robert added. “Did Roger tell her to go there?”
“N-no,” she stammered.
Everyone moved at once. Both Robert and Meeks followed Farrah, who rushed to the desk and powered up her computer.
“Look,” Robert held up his phone. “Roger’s last stop was the Weinberg School.”
Farrah pulled up the schedule. “Oh, no. The schedule has been altered. The museum had been there until it was removed this morning.”
“By who?” Meeks asked as he moved over to the desk and stared down at the screen.
Robert starting dialing Roger.
Farrah tapped several keys, and the screen changed. She looked up at Meeks and said, “You.”
“What? I never changed this,” Meeks said, fisting his hands at his sides.
“I just confirmed with Roger. His kid wasn’t sick and the museum was never on his schedule. He’s at the school trying to figure out what happened,” Robert said. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. “Found her!”
Meeks snatched the phone from Robert’s hand and read the text. He looked at both Farrah and Robert and said, “I’ll drive.”
Chapter 25
Francine heard someone calling out her name, but she couldn’t figure out who it was or where it was coming from. It echoed from a place far away. Her head felt like a marching band had set up residence and was there to stay. The closer the caller got, the louder the band played. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make her hands or arms work.
Fighting through the pain, Francine forced her eyes open. She blinked several times in hopes of bringing her sight into focus, but all she could see was a red haze. Her efforts failed, and her eyes closed again. Then a stinging slap registered, causing her eyes to fly open.
“Wakie, wakie, Cine...oh, that’s right. It’s Francine,” Francine heard the vaguely familiar voice say.
“Who...who are...you?” Francine asked, trying to focus on the voice speaking to her.
“Forgotten me already, have you?” the voice said, laughing.
Francine’s blurry vision shifted, but she still couldn’t believe what she was seeing—Jasmine, sitting with her legs crossed, casually swinging them back and forth on the same table where Jimmy had been. A handgun, a roll of duct tape and a syringe sat next to her. Francine looked down to find herself seated in a chair. Her hands and feet were bound to the arms and legs of the chair by plastic zip ties. Jimmy was nowhere in sight.
Francine raised her head slowly. While the marching band in her head was still playing, it wasn’t as loud, and she was able to think through the pain. She realized that for Jasmine to take things this far, she had to be mentally unstable.
“Jasmine, thank God,” Francine said in as frantic of a voice as she could muster. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m glad you found me. Quick, untie me. Let’s get the hell out of here before whoever hit me comes back. Then we can call for backup once we’re out of here.”
Jasmine’s forehead creased before she threw her head back and laughed. “My, my...you are good,” she said between laughs. “Or a complete idiot! I’m thinking the latter.”
“Jasmine, I don’t know what—”
Jasmine jumped off the table and slapped Francine across the face. “Shut the hell up. I’m not stupid and neither are you. You know damn well it was me who knocked you out and tied you to that chair.”
Her demeanor had changed into something Francine had never seen before. Her eyes were hard, her nose flared and her jaw clenched; even Jasmine’s red hair seemed to have gotten brighter—a shade almost as angry as the woman seemed to be herself. She turned her back to Francine, took a deep breath and released it slowly.
When she turned to face Francine again, the carefree Jasmine had returned.
So much for playing dumb. This chick has lost her mind.
Jasmine hopped back onto the table, crossed her legs again and ran her fingers through her hair. “Now, let’s get down to business,” she said. “We don’t have much time.”
“What do you want?” Francine asked, squirming in her chair, trying to break her bindings.
“For you to go away! You’re like that annoying sound the smoke detector makes that drives everyone crazy. You damn near have to pull it off the wall to make it stop. ” Jasmine said, tilting her head. “Only in this case, it was a bullet.”
Francine’s breath caught; it was like a shot to the gut, and she shook her head as she realized who was behind the attempt on her life. “No!”
Jasmine laughed. “Yes, Raymond Daniels. Who do you think paid his bail...got him the gun?”
Francine shook her head and said, “You’ve done all this just to get Meeks back? You can’t make a man love you, Jasmine.”
Jasmine’s smile vanished, and she rolled her eyes. “You really are stupid, aren’t you? Yes, Meeks is the reason for this. You’re just not good enough for him, but he can’t see it. Once you’re out of the picture, he and I can get on with the life we were meant to have.”
“But he and I weren’t even together when you tried to have me killed,” Francine explained, trying to buy time. Sooner or later Farrah would figure out that something was wrong, especially since she hadn’t returned with her dinner.
“Maybe not officially, but I knew what was happening. I saw the way he looked at you. And then he bought that stupid frame you made. Tried to tell me that it didn’t mean anything, that he commissioned a photograph from someone in Europe who just happened to have bought it.” Jasmine slid off the table with the gun in her hand, walked and stood behind Francine’s chair. “If I want a chance at getting Meeks back, I have to get you out of the way.”
“You don’t have to do this. I’m sure we could come up with another way for you to get what you want,” Francine said.
Ignoring Francine’s plea, Jasmine bent over and whispered in her ear, “Once you’re gone, I’ll be on the path to getting what I want...what I deserve. I’ll offer my services to help ease things at the office. Then before you know it, I’ll be back in Meeks’s bed where I belong. Then...and only then, will I have what I want.”
Francine knew that her feelings of bewilderment must have shown on her face by the look in Jasmine’s eyes and the deep laugh that she released. She continued to ask questions to keep Jasmine’s att
ention on herself and give her time to work on her restraints.
“When I stopped my freelance security work and working the occasional odd job with Meeks, I opened my own firm. However, I started offering more than what the average security agencies offer. I became what you might call a ‘problem solver,’” she said as a slow smile spread across her face.
“A problem solver?” Francine asked, but she had already deduced that the woman was no stranger to killing people. She was enjoying this scene a little too much.
“Yes. For example, you’re a problem for me that I plan on solving in a few short minutes.”
Francine’s frown deepened. “You’re an assassin?”
Jasmine shivered as though suddenly cold. “Assassin is such a harsh word.” Her smile widened, and it caused fear to settle in Francine’s gut. She hadn’t stalled the woman long enough.
Where the hell is everyone? Francine looked down at her hands and remembered. Oh, no. I didn’t wear the watch... Oh, God! No, stop it...don’t panic.
“You won’t get away with this—”
“Shhhh...” Jasmine said, placing her right index finger over her lips. “I already have. I’ve set everything up. Bill Morgan’s going to take the fall for everything. Well...everything except for this, of course.”
“You think my sisters, or Meeks for that matter, will just let you walk in and take my place in their lives...just like that?”
“It’ll take some time, but I’m sure I’ll win them over,” she said, giving Francine a little wink. “Besides, I’ll only need to deal with your family long enough to get through your funeral. After that, well, let’s just say I’ll be spending most of my time consoling Meeks. If your family tries to get in my way, they’ll just be one more problem for me to solve. And trust me, I’m a very good problem solver.”
Keep her talking; you have to save yourself and your baby.
“You know they’ll be looking for me,” Francine said, fighting the panic building inside her since she knew that they might not be looking for her at all. “They’ll never stop trying to find me, to find out what happened to me.”
Protecting the Heiress Page 17
