“Really? What kinds of things?”
Chapter Seventeen
“Oh my gosh.” Liz stepped into the aqua- and cream-colored bedroom with splashes of emerald green and silver, orange and red.
The room was complete with a king bed, dresser, and overstuffed chair. A sleek yet graceful chaise lounge faced the balcony where, through the clear railing, the beach and Gulf view stretched out like a painting, even in the dark of night.
An arrangement of fresh bird-of-paradise flowers mixed with orange Asiatic lilies and yellow alstroemeria sat on a side table. Three bamboo stalks completed the display.
The room was beautiful, and she couldn’t help but smile, then she glanced at the bed. “Look, there’s one of those seahorse pillows I told you about at the airport gift shop. The one you said would take up too much room. See? I ended up with one anyhow. And, there’s even a starfish on the…”
She whirled to face him. “You made this happen, didn’t you? You made everything perfect.”
“I figured… Well, I’m glad you like it. Might as well be happy while you hide out.” Shrugging, he walked to the patio door. “If you go outside, be sure to use the security pad, in and out.”
Her insides fluttered, unsure if she should be happy he cared enough to arrange everything, or leery everything seemed too perfect. The more she and Mitch were together, the more complex he seemed to be. The more complex, the more she wanted to understand what made him tick. There had to be a story there.
Caught for a moment, she had to remind herself this was not some assignment. Not even a vacation. This was serious business. He was her protector for a reason. Her life was on the line. All their lives were on the line.
“Hey, you okay?” He’d moved back beside her.
“Yes. I’m trying to take everything in. This room is more than I could ever hope for in my life. It’s beautiful.” She swept her hands in an open expanse of the room. “I love the flowers. Did you know that bamboo is supposed to be lucky?”
He nodded. “They say it brings energy to the house.”
“That’s right. So, what color, what style is your bedroom?”
Quick as anything, his expression reverted to the same panicked look he’d had in the kitchen searching for dishes. He was on defense again. Why?
“You’ll see it once I get the security communications set up in there.” He pointed to a connecting door. “As a precaution, I’ll unlock my side of the connecting door. You’ll want to keep your side unlocked, too.”
“Why?”
“I can get to you faster if there’s a breach.”
She realized he was talking about Coercion Ten. “I thought we were safe here.”
“Should be. That’s why I have double security set up in this house. If they get through the obvious one, the secondary system will sound an alert. Gives me time to get us the hell out of here. Or make a stand.”
Neither one sounded like something she hoped to experience. “Maybe you should put a gun in here. I may not be the best shot in the world, but I do know how to handle one.”
“I thought Cat gave you a weapon before we left the beach house back on Captiva.”
“She did, but when I fell in the water, the gun slipped out of my pocket and sank.”
He motioned her to follow him, and they walked back to the bags waiting on the balcony landing. After a couple of unzips and zips, he popped a clip into a small Glock, checked that the safety was on, then handed it to her along with a couple of clips. “That’s loaded. Don’t use it unless you have to.”
Balancing the pistol in her hand brought back a memory of her first target practice at a shooting range in Los Angeles, about a week after graduating from UCLA. She’d been heading off on her first journalist assignment when her dad had suggested she learn how to shoot. Since then, she’d made it a habit to stop in a gun shop for target practice at least a couple times a year. She’d never bought a gun, though. No reason to—her keychain mace was her main line of defense.
On the other hand, her hand-to-hand self-defense training that she updated yearly had been put to use on a few overly interested men. Ones who didn’t know how to take no for an answer and seemed to be immune to her mace. But she’d never had to use a gun.
Mitch walked back to her room. “Let’s find a good place for you to keep this.”
“I was thinking in the nightstand drawer.”
“I’m thinking under the bed.” He got to his knees on the far side of the bed, and she knelt beside him. “If CT gets in and you’re by yourself in here, you’d hide behind the bed.” He shoved the gun a good arm’s length underneath. “This way, you’ve got an easy reach for protection.”
Made sense. In fact, she could probably even shimmy completely under the bed if need be. She had no doubt the bad guys would look there, but at least it was one more obstacle.
Moving to stand up, their arms barely touched; even that was enough to spark their chemistry. He jerked away, but not so fast she didn’t feel his warmth beneath the coarseness of the hair on his forearms. She forced herself not to show any reaction. She wasn’t a fool about their attraction—she doubted he was, either.
“If you need anything, I’ll be setting up the OPAQUE equipment in my room,” he said.
“Why won’t you tell me the color and style of your bedroom?”
Shaking his head, he looked to make a quick getaway as he stepped toward her open door. “You don’t give up, do you? Always got one more question. One more thing you need to know.”
“Answer my question and I’ll be quiet.” She raced to beat him to the door, closing it to block his path.
Stepping back, he crossed his arms as the cords in his neck seemed to stiffen. “I’ve had enough for one day, Liz. Move.”
He slightly tilted his forehead downward and raised his eyebrows as a burst of red intensified his expression, and for a moment she thought he might push her out of the way. He appeared fierce. Controlled…but fierce. She’d not seen that look before and didn’t much like the daggers his narrowed eyes had focused on her. But she couldn’t let whatever was going on in connection to this house stay lodged between them.
Leaning back against the door, she crossed her arms in return. “Is this really your house?”
“Yes!”
“Then how come you don’t know where your dishes are? Where you keep the silverware?” She sucked in a breath of courage before continuing. “And I’d bet money you don’t know what color your bedroom is.”
He gently, yet firmly, moved her to the wall next to the door.
She stayed her ground, stayed leaned back against the wall. “You want to know what I think?”
“No.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever spent one night in that bedroom. Maybe not even in this house. Come to think of it, this place is probably nothing more than a house to you. Not a home.” She softly touched his arm with her fingers. “Do you even have a home, Mitch?”
He grasped her fingers in his own as he pushed her hand back against the wall, elbow length beside her head. His body moved in close. Close enough she felt the muscles of his chest press against her. His legs sandwiched her leg between them, then he slid his head next to her, his cheek brushing hers.
“You will not get in my head, Elizabeth,” he whispered alongside her ear. “No matter what you do. Or what you try. You will not get into my head.”
Evidently, she’d struck a nerve with him. A defensive, emotional nerve. Why couldn’t he say she was right? Or wrong? “I like the way you whisper against my ear, but you didn’t answer my question.”
He moved back a couple of steps. “You want a question? I’ve got one for you. Why did you kiss me out there on the Q40?”
Just like him, she could refuse to answer. Tell him to answer her question first. Ask him why he kissed her back. But somehow, none of those responses seemed appropriate. She’d had a reason. A very important reason.
“I told you. What if tomorrow never comes?” s
he softly said.
“Now, that’s where we’re different. I’ll fight every fight till the last punch. Use every defense I know. I’ll annihilate every enemy that steps in front of me.” His eyes seemed to search her expression. “I damn well plan for you and me to live one more day.”
“But sometimes things go wrong. What if you’re killed?”
He opened the door and stepped into the hall. “There’s only one thing you need to remember. Dying—is not an option today.”
Chapter Eighteen
The first thing Mitch did after taking the OPAQUE tech setup bags into his own bedroom, was unlock his side of the connecting door. He jiggled the handle on her side. Locked.
“Coming. I forgot. I forgot,” Liz called from inside her room then opened the door. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll leave it unlocked from now on. Should I leave the door open?”
“No!”
“Okay. Okay.” She jerked her hands against her chest as her eyes widened. Then she giggled. “It wasn’t an invitation, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just needed to know if the door should stay open in case CT shows up. That’s all. Nothing else.”
What was she talking about? What invitation? What—
A light went on in his brain. She had him so confused he couldn’t stay one step ahead of her. And she wasn’t even trying. Well, she didn’t need to know he was flustered. He’d learned to bluff with the best of them.
“I know that’s not what you meant,” he said. “And for your information, I figured you might like some privacy. So, I said no on keeping the door open.”
“Sorry. Guess I misunderstood.” She rolled her eyes. “But, since you mentioned privacy. Are there security cameras set up inside this house? I mean, are we being filmed all the time?”
“No. What would make you think that?”
She shrugged. “You said this house was ultra-secure. To me that means cameras, burglar alarms, hidden weapons, and…I don’t know what all else. All I know is I don’t want you spying on me.”
“The only security cameras that run full-time are outside around the perimeter of the house. But there are a few security panels that can be activated if I think someone’s broken into the house.” He understood her concern, but a part of him felt insulted. “Just for the record, I’m not some pervert who’s set up cameras to spy on you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Sounded like it.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Sorry. You do this all the time. For me, this is a little overwhelming.”
“That’s okay. I accept your apology.” Uh-oh…the moment the words left his mouth, he knew they had been a mistake. “You should—”
“I’d accept your apology, too, if you ever gave one,” she said sharply.
All he could do was stand there and stare into her sassy green eyes. She stared right back at him. Seemed as if they stood there forever, but couldn’t have been more than half a minute. She might be right about him never saying he was sorry, but damned if he planned to say it any time soon. In fact, never. He didn’t do sorry. At least not in words.
But he couldn’t keep a you-got-me grin from tugging at his mouth. She shook her head and turned, closing the connecting door behind her.
He caught the edge of the door right before it shut completely. “By the way, you mentioned losing your passport, but we never really talked about it. Did you say it was the same day that you were fired?”
Her expression took on a serious look. “Yes. I remember handing my jacket, purse, and laptop bag to the boss’s administrative assistant when I arrived for the meeting. When I got home that evening, my passport wasn’t there.”
“Are you sure you had it with you?”
“I’m almost positive. Anytime I fly, I follow the same routine. I keep my purse in my small carry-on tote. Once Security does the whole ticket and passport scan in the security line, I take the time to put them both in my purse before stepping through the scanner.” She sighed. “I must have forgot.”
“But if you had your ticket to get on the plane, logic says you’d put both in your purse.”
“Exactly.” The pinch of her brows indicated she was searching for an answer just like him. “Unless the passport fell out when I removed my ticket at the gate.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “Possible. But if that happened, wouldn’t the passport have fallen inside the small carry-on?”
She nodded. “Should have. But I swear I checked everything in every bag that evening. The passport was nowhere to be found.”
Once he talked with Josh later tonight, he’d have a better idea of any red flags regarding the publishing company she’d been working for. For now, though, he was satisfied Liz and he were in a place he knew how to defend. One that was safe, and very few people even knew existed.
“You said the assistant took your things. Did she always do that?” he asked.
“Yes. Every time I went for a meeting with the boss.”
“Were there a lot of meetings with the boss?”
“More than at my other publisher. But they’re all different.”
“Was it the same assistant each visit?”
“Yes.” She yawned, blinking her eyes rapidly. “I get the feeling you think they took my passport. Why?”
“That’s one of a lot of possibilities as to what happened. It’s my job to latch onto things that might help in this assignment.” Besides which, the why was something he still needed to figure out. “You look tired, get some rest. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Nodding, she slowly closed her door. And he closed his.
For the next fifteen minutes, Mitch hooked up his OPAQUE communication system. He’d done this so many times, the arrangement and plugs seemed to be wired into his thinking. Computer set. Panels for viewing set. Everything hooked into the jamming system he’d had installed at this house. Power on. Password. Next passcode. System working—clean and clear.
This communication wavelength would be for only the three agents involved in protecting Liz—Josh, Reese, and him. As always, the lines were scrambled, secure access within secure access. There’d never been a breach of the system.
Reese would be his nearest backup if something happened to him, which meant he’d need to be familiar with this location. Mitch had already told him where to find a rental property in close proximity.
Of course, Josh, the secondary backup, could contact others in OPAQUE, even try to keep track of Drake’s whereabouts on a different channel back at headquarters.
He keyed Reese and Josh to get them both in the feed. “You two on board?”
First, Josh’s picture popped on the viewing screen. Followed closely by Reese. The words “mobile station” signaled they weren’t on any direct OPAQUE headquarters system.
“I was beginning to worry,” Josh said
“No need.” Mitch sat down in front of the big screen. “Took longer to get here than I thought. Reese, you settled in your place yet?”
“Yeah, I’m tucked away in my cozy little two-bedroom beach house. At least I think there’s a beach someplace.” Reese cleared his throat. “From what I’m seeing on the GPS and satellite feed, looks like you’re waterfront. Staring out at the Gulf in a”—he clicked the house on the screen—”is this place where you two are hiding out?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell?” Josh questioned. “That place must have cost OPAQUE a buttload to lease.”
Mitch stayed quiet. Until this case was settled, he outranked Drake. He didn’t need to explain anything to anybody. “Bring me up to date on what you’ve found out, Josh.”
“The passport hasn’t been turned in anyplace. Not on the black market. Not on the inner web. Not even on the street. Liz’s dad, Russ, hasn’t shown up anyplace, either. And, as of ten minutes ago, there’s been no contact from Drake.” Josh sighed. “In other words, we’ve got nothing new since you left the boat.”
There were always three options—status quo,
attack, or subterfuge. Better known as tactical manipulation to gain an edge. He’d never much liked status quo. And if OPAQUE had nothing more than what they’d been sitting on since the beginning, then there was no chance of going on offense with an attack as long as Liz was in their protection. That left subterfuge. If that backfired it could be the end of all of them. Staying in one spot too long could also be the end.
“We can’t sit and wait for CT to make the first move again,” Mitch said.
Reese nodded. “Any moves they make will be direct and to the point of what they want. Namely, Liz.”
“That’s why I need you to be close at all times. I’m texting you the passcodes and instructions for the security system right now.” Mitch pressed send before looking back at the men on the screen.
“From what I’ve calculated, my place is a two-minute sprint to your location. A lot less by car, but that loses the element of surprise.”
“Do some recon tonight. Again, in the daylight.”
“Will do,” Reese replied.
“Contact me after that, and we’ll plot the strategic points around this place.” Mitch figured that would mean letting him know he owned the house. Had to be done. “After that, I’ll give you a tour of the house and all the security systems. You’re my replacement, if anything happens to me.”
Reese nodded again.
“Josh, I need you to recheck Liz’s bank accounts and credit cards. She mentioned something about them being all jacked up the day her dad’s text came. Ask her again and see if she’s come up with anything new.”
“Got it.”
“If we knew what CT wants her father to do, it could lead us to their location. Suggestions?” Narrowing in on the opponent’s location could lead to taking out their point men. “By the way, have there been updated Coercion Ten Leverage Lists coming through?”
“A couple, but everybody’s still at the same level. Liz. Alive. Fifty thousand. You, Reese, Drake, me and the rest of the OPAQUE crew are the same as always. Alive. Ten grand. Dead, needs approval.” Josh leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll keep working this end, but squeezing the same intel over and over is coming up with a big fat zero.”
Dangerous Lies Page 15
