by Ana Leigh
“Hooky? Are you serious?”
“Sure. We’ll stroll among the pigeons at Trafalgar Square, eat some fish and chipsk a beer at a local pub. No abductors, assassins or custody hassles with uptight lawyers. For a couple hours we’ll be Ann and Mike doing London. How about it?”
“I thought you said you never mix business and pleasure, Mike?” Even though she tried to appear reluctant, he could tell by the gleam in her eyes that the idea appealed to her.
“I won’t charge the Agency for my time. Jeremy, stop the car.”
The driver pulled over and Mike jumped out of the limo, then reached out and took Ann’s hand and helped her out. Leaning down, he said to Hollingsworth, “Jeremy, you can leave. We’ll get back on our own.”
The agent gave him a disgruntled look, then said sotto voce to him, “Sure hope you know what you’re doing, Yank.”
After feeding the pigeons at Trafalgar Square, on impulse they took a tour bus that took them on an hour’s tour of several points of interest including Buckingham Palace, the Parliament Building and the famous landmark Big Ben. Then they strolled along eating fish and chips, before ducking into a quaint pub to enjoy a cool brew.
As they sipped the beer, Ann said, “I really enjoyed this today, Mike. Thank you.”
“So did I.” Funny, he meant it. It was like the dinner they’d had together in Washington. Once she relaxed, Ann Hamilton was good company—besides being easy on the eyes.
“I wish Brandon had been with us. He would have enjoyed himself.” Her smile slowly slipped into a worried frown. “I saw that codicil myself, Mike. Mr. Leonard obviously has an earlier version of the will. I have a copy of the codicil in my safe at home. If I could get back to Kourou, I—”
“Don’t even think it,” Mike declared. “Until the assassin is caught, it would be too dangerous for you to go back there.”
“Who knows when that will be,” she lamented.
She looked so depressed, his heart went out to her. “Look, Ann, in the meantime get this Leonard to file a petition giving you temporary custody of Brandon. Since the kid has no living relatives, and he wants to be with you, there shouldn’t be a problem. Then, whenever they reach Burroughs’s lawyer, he can straighten it all out.”
“I suppose you’re right, but that, too, will take time. They’ll have to do a background search to make certain there are no other relatives. And I suppose while they do, they’ll boot me out. So I’ll have to leave Brandon.”
“It will only be for a short time.” Mike was about to order them another glass of beer when his cell phone went off.
As he reached for it, he gave Ann a disgusted look. “Must be a wrong number. Who here would know my number?” He turned away. “What?” he said, impatiently into the phone.
The caller didn’t waste time identifying himself. He didn’t have to.
“Get the hell out of there, now,” Jeremy ordered. “I just got a call. The lab found a bullet imbedded in that tire.”
“Where are y
“Where do you think? Right outside.”
Mike hung up and threw some bills on the table. “We have to go.”
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you about it later.” He took her arm and hustled her outside. The black limo was parked at the curb.
“How did Jeremy know we were here?”
“He’s been with us from the beginning,” Mike said.
“You mean even when we took the tour?”
“Yeah. He was hanging back at a discreet distance, but I spotted him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The object was to get your mind off your problems.”
“Well at least it worked. Trouble is, they don’t go away, they just keep getting worse.”
Mike nodded. Truer words were never spoken. She had no idea just how much worse.
As she had suspected, because of the will, Ann became a persona non grata. Trying to explain this to Brandon as she packed her bag to leave him was very difficult. He broke into tears when he heard they would be separated again.
“Sweetheart, once they reach Mr. Breton—you remember him, dear, he was your grandfather’s lawyer—he can straighten it all out. In the meantime, I’ll have the lawyer here petition the court to give me temporary custody of you until it is all resolved.”
Everything was too confusing and overwhelming to a six-year-old. Brandon had clung to her as she left and she shed silent tears all the way to the hotel where Mike was registered. He insisted upon connecting rooms for her protection, which only added to her discomfort. She found herself sitting on the edge of a bed and staring with a dazed gaze at the strange walls of yet another hotel room.
Recent events had made her life chaotic. Brandon’s custody. Clayton’s death. Men abducting her. Assassins trying to kill her. Mike Bishop. CIA. It all was as mind-boggling as it was horrifying. Racked with heartrending sobs, she buried her head in the pillow.
Her last thought before slipping into slumber was the realization that she couldn’t remember the last time her life had been normal. This all had to be an out-of-body experience or some such catastrophe, because this couldn’t be the life of Ann Susan Hamilton.
Chapter 12
Her eyes popped open when the hand clamped over her mouth. Mike was leaning over her and put a finger to his lips to warn her to be quiet.
How long would she play this nightmare over in her sleep?
But it wasn’t a dream. It was happening again. She sat up and he took his hand away.“Don’t say anything, just listen and do what I say,” he whispered. “Somebody’s been moving around outside your door for several minutes.”
She swung a frightened gaze to the door. The crack under it revealed a shifting shadow blocking out the hall light.
“Don’t make a sound. Get out of bed and go into my room.”
Grabbing her robe, she followed him. Once inside his room, Mike carefully closed and locked the connecting door.
“Now, as soon as I leave, bolt the door and don’t open it to anyone but me. And only if I say it’s okay. If I don’t say that, call Security at once.”
“What are you going to do, Mike?”
“I’m going out there.”
“Why don’t you just call Security?”
“Whoever it is would be out of here before anyone would show up. I want to have a private talk with whoever they are and find out who’s behind this.”
“You mean you think there’s more than one?”
“I don’t know. There was more than one person in that car that tried to run us off the road.”
“I thought that was an accident?”
“Just do as I say.” She gasped when she saw the pistol in his hand. It seemed to appear from nowhere. “You’re going to have to move fast with that dead bolt, because I’ll probably be spotted as soon as I open the door. If anything happens, call Security. And stay away from the door. If they’ve got assault weapons the door’s no protection.”
She forced the words past the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Mike, this is too dangerous. Why don’t you just wait for Security?”
“Just do what I say. Ready?”
She nodded.
Mike stepped out in the hallway, and the door clicked loudly as it swung closed. With a trembling hand, she slipped the dead bolt into place.
The man in the hallway spun around when he heard the door click shut. There were ten or twelve feet between the two doors, and the guy took off at a run. He ducked through the exit door when the ping of the elevator sounded and the doors swung open.
A security guard stepped out.
“Drop that gun, mate.”
“I’ll explain later. He’s getting away,” Mike said.
“Yeah, sure he is. Like there was someone else. I said drop it, bud.”
Another ping sounded, another elevator door opened, and another security man showed up.
“Son of a bitch!” Mike mumbled, an
d laid the gun on the floor. “I can explain all this.”
“Can’t wait to hear it,” the guard said, cuffing him.
“You don’t understand. Someone was trying to break into our ro
“Yeah, sure there was. How do you Yanks say it, ‘smile, you’re on candid camera.’”
“Dammit, man, if you saw it all on camera, then you know it wasn’t me.”
“From the back, you all look alike.”
“Really? So he was barefoot, barechested and wearing only jeans.”
“I didn’t notice,” the guard said.
“Well, I did. He was bearded, had dark, shoulder-length hair, was wearing a black leather jacket, jeans and boots. And if you guys ever try using stairs instead of announcing your arrival on elevators, you would have run into him. How long have you guys been at this job?”
“Long enough to catch you, mate. You got any ID?”
“Not on me.” Mike gave up. These guys were so thick-headed there was no reasoning with them. “My room’s right down the hallway. And I have a witness to what happened.” He strode away.
“Since I can’t, do you mind knocking on the door?” Mike said, when they reached his room.
“Ann, open the door. It’s okay.”
Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw his hands cuffed behind his back and the two security guards.
“What’s going on, Mike?” Ann asked.
“These guys think I’m the one who was trying to break into your room.”
“What is your name, ma’am?” Thick Head asked.
“Ann Hamilton,” she said.
“And you’re acquainted with this man.”
“Yes,” Ann said. Her violet eyes were full of confusion when she glanced at Mike.
“Are you related to him?”
“No, I’m not. We are, ah…business acquaintances.”
“What business are you in that you share connecting rooms with members of the opposite sex?”
Mike didn’t like how the big mouth was talking to Ann. The guy was a dunce to mistake Ann for a hooker. If his hands weren’t cuffed he’d punch the bastard right in the middle of that smirk on his ugly mug.
“Is that question germane to this particular problem, Officer?”
Way to go, baby! Thick Head had ruffled her feathers and she wasn’t about to take any lip from him.
“He’s not a police officer, Ann. He’s merely a security guard,” Mike said.
“You want to tell us what happened here?” the guard said.
“Mr. Bishop came into my room about fifteen minutes ago, woke me up, and told me someone in the hallway was trying to break into my room. We came into this room, he told me to lock the door when he leaves, and not to let anyone in.”
“D this individual who allegedly was trying to break into your room?”
“No, but I did see his shifting shadow in the crack between the floor and the door.”
“And you said Bishop came into your room. What did you need connecting rooms for if the two of you weren’t sharing a bed as you claim?”
“You have a problem with that, pal?” Mike said.
“Sounds more like you’re the one with the problem.” Thick Head and the other stooge broke into laughter.
“You two are a great act,” Mike said. “When does Moe show up, or is it Curly? I never could keep track of who was who.”
Luckily for him they didn’t get it. Back home, a crack like that would probably have gotten him a punch in the gut. He reminded himself to keep his cool. “Look, my ID’s in my wallet on the dresser. Check it out.”
Thick Head looked through the wallet and pulled out the ID. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed the desk. After a mumbled conversation he looked up at Ann. “What did you say your last name was, lady?”
“Hamilton. Ann Hamilton.”
What a detective! On top of the rest of his stupidity, the bastard must suffer with short memory loss. From the looks of that flattened nose he’d probably been a boxer who took one punch too many. Maybe he should cut him some slack.
After a few more grunts and mumbles into the telephone, the guard hung up. “Okay, you two, get dressed.”
“How in hell am I supposed to get dressed with my hands cuffed behind my back?” Mike asked.
“Just don’t try to get clever, mate.” Thick Head nodded to his partner, and the guy unlocked the cuffs. “You must think we’re stupid.”
“Never entered my mind,” Mike said.
“I figure you two are working this hotel and thought you’d get away with it. I’m turning you over to the police.”
“One look at that tape, and they’ll know it wasn’t me,” Mike said.
“Yeah, but it was you running down the hallway with a loaded gun, mate. We don’t take kindly to that here. You ain’t over in the States now where you can get away with that stuff.”
“And what are you charging me with?” Ann said. “I’ve been in this room since I checked in.”
“Could be, lady. But you said you weren’t related to this guy, so how come you registered as his wife?”
“Wife!” Ann threw Mike a scathing look. “You registered me as your wife?”
Mike shrugged. “Just protecting your reputation.”
Short of smoke coming out of her nose and ears, Ann spun on her heel and went into her bedroom.
Thick Head followed her to the doorway. “And keep this door open, and don’t try anything cute, cutie, or I’ll have to com and keep an eye on you.”
She slammed the door in his face.
How can he sleep? Ann asked herself as she glanced at Mike sitting with his legs stretched out, ankles crossed, arms folded across his chest and his eyes closed. For the past hour they’d been cooped up at the police station in a small, gray-walled room not much larger than a cloakroom, and barren except for a table and two chairs. It didn’t even have a two-way mirror. She supposed it could be worse; at least they weren’t behind bars.
“How long can they keep us here?” she said.
He opened his eyes. “Relax, Ann. Once they check those tapes, they’ll know they were wrong and release us.”
“They said they’re holding you because you were running down the hallway with a gun.”
“I have the right to protect us. Someone was trying to break into your room. I’m sure the police aren’t as stupid as that punch-drunk security guard.”
“Well maybe if you would have changed your attitude he’d have been more understanding.”
“I noticed you ran out of patience pretty quickly with him.”
“What do you expect? The man literally accused me of being a prostitute.”
“I rest my case.” He closed his eyes again.
“How can you try to sleep at a time like this?”
He raised his lids. She could see irritation in those hazel eyes. “It would be easy if you’d relax and be quiet, Hamilton. Unlike you, I’ve yet to sleep tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
She began to pace back and forth. He opened his eyes and sat up. “Okay, what’s the problem, Hamilton?”
“Problem? What problem could I possibly have? My best friend was murdered, someone is apparently trying to do the same to me, I’m having difficulty getting custody of Brandon, and I’ve been arrested as a suspected hooker and confined in this little box of a room with a…a…”
“A what, Hamilton?”
“Oh, forget it.” She resumed her pacing.
He leaped to his feet and grasped her by the shoulders. The latent anger he was trying to conceal was apparent at this close proximity.
“A what, Hamilton?” he repeated. “I don’t like this arrangement any more than you do. My job is Special Ops, not wet-nursing temperamental females who don’t have enough sense to recognize when someone is trying to help them.”
His face was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. There was an escalating excitement in being this close to Mike Bishop that had nothing t
o do with fright. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. It was the male essence of the man that her femininity responded to immediately.
She sensed he felt a similar reaction, because for the briefest instant of a drawn breath he paus. She parted her lips and he lowered his head. Just as they were about to kiss, the door opened.
“Is this kiss-and-make-up time?”
They stepped apart and stared at Jeremy Hollingsworth. “What are you doing here?” Mike asked.
“The police called the State Department. I happened to have been around when the call came in.”
“Why would the police call them? Ann’s not a British subject.”
“Oh, I bet I’m to blame. I told them to,” Ann said.
“Dammit, Ann, you should have kept them out of this. I told you once the police looked at those security films, we’d be off the hook.”
“I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“Sorry, Hollingsworth. Hope it hasn’t blown your cover.”
“His cover? What does that mean?” Ann asked. She swung her gaze to the agent. “Don’t tell me you’re in the CIA, too.”
“No, Miss Hamilton. I am not in the CIA. Anyway, you’re free to leave. Shall we get out of here.”
They stopped at the desk, reclaimed their personal items, and it was close to sunrise by the time Jeremy drove them back to the hotel.
Larry and Moe were in the lobby. Still no sign of Curly. The two guards glared at them when they stepped into the elevator and as the doors closed Mike couldn’t resist flipping them the finger.
“Do you actually take pleasure in resorting to that immature, obscene gesture?” Ann asked, disgusted.
“Lady, you have no idea,” Mike said. He grinned all the way up to his room.
After checking Ann’s room, he put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door handles, and then went to bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow knowing, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the security camera on the floor would get a lot of attention while he slept.
Chapter 13
Ann had too much on her mind to get back to sleep. She had slept enough before the incident to make any further attempt an impossibility. In truth, she didn’t know what to make of tonight’s episode. It could have been a hotel thief trying to rob the room, and naturally he’d run if someone popped out of a door holding a gun.
