“I’ll lure her out. You just need to make sure you succeed this time.”
The killer glared at him and while Rudolph tried to maintain a hard expression, he was sure fear showed in his eyes. Getting his hands dirty this way turned his stomach. He was in the highest tier, much higher than Green or even Ferante. He should not have to be involved in this kind of low-level planning.
They were punishing him because of Ferante. That much was obvious. And the level of their punishment would only increase if he didn’t get this right. For the first time in his long career, he realized how expendable he really was. He’d come too far, done too much, to allow this bump in the road to be his end.
“I’ll make the arrangements to bring her back to LA, and I’ll let you know where and when. How you get it done is your problem.”
Promethean smiled. “It’s not a problem…it’s my pleasure.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Montana
Days passed in sublime delight. Aubrey managed to bury the grief and sadness and instead concentrate on the joy in front of her eyes. The miracle she’d been given. The man she’d loved for so long was here with her. With each day that passed, she fell a little deeper in love, and had come to the conclusion that their chance meeting had not been chance at all. They had been brought together for a reason, and though separated for a long while, their reunion was made all the sweeter and stronger for the pain they’d endured.
She delighted in learning the little, everyday things about Liam, and each day she learned something new. He had a penchant for mountain climbing on his days off, liked westerns, both movies and books, hated what he called artsy-fartsy films, preferred his coffee black, his wine red, and his beer ice-cold. He sang in the shower, badly, and he had an addiction to Peanut M&M’s. Something she had discovered on their first grocery trip together.
He also had a need to protect the weak and vulnerable. That had been revealed to her when they’d been walking in the snow, and he’d found a half-frozen pygmy owl floundering on the ground. He’d scooped it up in his gloved hands, wrapped it in a warm towel, and called a wildlife expert, who came within the hour and took the bird away with the promise of a full report on its health as soon as possible.
She’d told him about the one and only TV show she’d been in and its short-lived success. Explaining how her shift in focus from acting to creating documentaries had occurred had been easy. If there was anyone who understood why, it was Liam.
When she’d told him about going to the NYC library that day and how heartbroken she’d been until she had somehow inhaled the scent of roses, he’d held her close in comfort. They had lost twelve years of being together, which made their days here and now even more poignant and precious.
They talked endlessly about the silly and the serious, watched movies, tried out their favorite recipes on each other, and made love. She reveled in his seemingly endless passion for her. All her earlier insecurities had disappeared.
She knew Liam would have to return to work soon. While they had enjoyed idyllic days of wonder and nights of passionate delight, the rest of the OZ team were still working. And one of the things they were working hardest on was finding out more about this mysterious organization.
The end of the beautiful days came much sooner than she had anticipated. The morning started perfectly with Liam waking her with a kiss and making slow, sweet love to her. They showered and had just finished breakfast, looking forward to a day of playing in the snow, when the call came.
Her phone lay on the counter a few feet away. Liam grabbed it and handed it to her. “LA number,” he said quietly.
Her shoulders went tense, and her heart thudded with dread. “I’ll put it on speaker.” Sliding her finger over the answer icon and then the speaker, she said, “Hello?”
“Is this Aubrey?”
“Yes, this is Aubrey. Who’s this?”
“Hello, Aubrey. It’s Norman Hartley. As you know I was your uncle Syd’s attorney. Becca was also my client.” He cleared his throat and added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“Both Syd and Becca left you a substantial amount of money and property. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to come to LA within the next few days. There are papers to sign and items to review. It would be best to do those things in person.”
Aubrey sent Liam a questioning look, and though his face was grim, he nodded.
“I’ll see if I can work that into my schedule. Where would I go?”
“I’ll text you the details. If you’ll let me know what day you’ll be here, I’ll be sure to set aside a couple of hours to go over the details of their individual estates.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Her hand shaking, Aubrey ended the call and dropped the phone on the table. She had known this day was coming. Before they’d agreed to the moratorium on talking about what had happened, Liam had told her that at some point they would again try to draw her out.
“This is a ruse, isn’t it?”
“Could be legitimate, but I don’t doubt for a moment that they’ll know the moment you notify Hartley you’re coming.”
“You think he’s in on it?”
“Not necessarily. But who knows? He might be one of their many pawns.”
“What now?”
The dangerous glint in his eyes sent a shiver through her. “We take the fight to them.”
“How?”
“We’ll set a trap. Don’t worry. We’ll work that out with the OZ team. You don’t have to be involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of the female operatives can take your place.”
“That won’t work.”
“Of course it will. We’ll make it work. Eve is about your size and height. We have a makeup artist on retainer who can—”
Aubrey shook her head. “You don’t understand. I know Norman Hartley quite well. He was a frequent guest of Uncle Syd’s for various get-togethers. He knows exactly what I look like.”
She paused a beat and then said, “I’ll have to go to the meeting, Liam. I’ll need to be the bait.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Los Angeles, California
Law Offices of Hartley, Sharp, Weeks, and Franklin
Her legs only slightly shaky, Aubrey stood at the reception desk and said in a clear, no-nonsense voice, “I’m here to see Mr. Hartley.”
The well-dressed, serious young woman looked up at her. “Your name?”
“Aubrey Starr.”
“He’s on a conference call at the moment, Ms. Starr. Have a seat, and he’ll be with you soon.”
“All right. Thank you.” Turning, she and her companions made their way to the small, elegant reception area.
“So far,” Liam murmured beside her, “typical law office layout and atmosphere. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
She knew he was trying to calm her with those low tones that sent warmth and comfort through her bloodstream. He didn’t want her here and had made sure anyone within hearing distance knew his opinion. Aubrey had been adamant. If they wanted this to work, she had to be the bait. Norman Hartley was no dummy. She’d played chess with the man and had even talked to him once about investing in a project. He wouldn’t be easily fooled and would know in an instant if a decoy showed up in her place.
She had thought she knew the elderly attorney. She never talked to a potential investor without making sure there were no skeletons in their closet. He had looked squeaky clean to her. But OZ had ways of getting intel that were realms out of her league.
Serena had conducted a deep dive into both Hartley and the law firm. It was one of the top firms in the country and one of the world’s leading for wills and mergers and acquisitions.
On paper, Hartley, the senior partner, was about as staid and conventional as the stereotypical attorney could get. He was also enormously wealthy, with a few questionable business interests. Nothing glaringly illegal, Serena had said, but a few unethi
cal practices here and there that could get him disbarred if anyone chose to push the point.
The rest of the law firm, all forty-seven of them, including paralegals, secretaries, and assistants raised no red flags. Liam wasn’t buying it, though, and said until they knew different, every one of them was a suspect.
She glanced over at him, and her heart melted. Dressed in a dark blue Armani suit, stark white button-down shirt, and blue silk tie, he was certainly dressed for the part as a successful, well-to-do attorney. However, if that granite jaw of his got any harder, it would shatter. No one looking at him would see him as anything but a threat.
She said softly, “You might want to tone down the glare. You’re making the receptionist nervous.”
“We’re not here to put anyone at ease.”
She glanced over at Gideon who sat opposite them, and sighed. Gideon had the same expression on his face. No wonder the receptionist kept switching her gaze between the two of them. It could, however, have to do with the fact that both men were exceedingly handsome.
Tense moments followed as they waited to see what would happen. No one believed this would be what it appeared to be, a review of her uncle’s and Becca’s wills. There would be an attempt on her life today. How and when were the big questions.
Finally, a lovely young woman appeared in her vision. “Ms. Starr? Mr. Hartley can see you now. Please follow me.”
Every muscle strained with tension, Aubrey held her breath as she followed the woman.
This was it.
* * *
Hating every part of this, Liam sat a few feet away from Aubrey as they waited to be called into Hartley’s office. Gideon was within easy reach of her. When the threat came, in whatever form, he wanted to meet it head on. Gideon would see to Aubrey. The moment he realized all the arguing in the world was not going to prevent this from happening, he’d pulled Gideon aside, and made it clear that Aubrey was to be the man’s number one concern. No matter what happened, she was to be protected at all costs. Liam would handle the rest.
Gideon had just given him one of his mild looks and walked away. He knew he was probably lucky his friend hadn’t clocked him. Gideon Wright was one of the most capable, ruthless men he’d ever known. Telling him what needed doing was a little like advising a cobra how to bite.
Everyone at OZ knew what the priority was and didn’t need the reminder. He’d done it anyway. By the time this op was over, his fellow OZ operatives would likely want to skin him alive.
When the woman called for Aubrey to follow her, Liam and Gideon were right there with her.
After taking a few steps forward, the woman turned and gave both men a wary look. “Umm. I believe Mr. Hartley is expecting only Ms. Starr.”
“These gentlemen are my legal advisors,” Aubrey said calmly.
“Of course.”
With each step they took down the hallway, Liam watched for threats. Having a killer pop out from behind a door seemed a bit too obvious, but he was putting nothing past these people.
They stopped at a double door and the woman knocked. Hearing a man say, “Enter,” she opened it and walked inside.
Liam went in first, followed by Aubrey, then Gideon.
Three anomalies caught Liam’s eye. The room was large, holding a conference table that would seat at least twenty-five. No way a senior partner didn’t have his own private conference room. Why use this large one?
Secondly, and he thought it might explain the reason for choosing this room, several large windows covered one wall. A couple of them had old-fashioned push-out openings. Call him paranoid, but how easy would it be to shove an unsuspecting person through the window? They were on the twelfth floor—instantaneous death.
The third oddity he observed was Hartley himself. In the photographs Liam had seen, the man was a healthy seventy-year-old with a head full of iron-gray hair. He played golf twice a week and was on a tennis team at his club. Research had also revealed that just over a week ago, he’d spent two weeks in Tahiti. Unless it had rained fourteen days straight, the man should have a tan. But Hartley was sickly pale, and when he stood to greet them, his hands were visibly shaking.
Yeah, the guy knew something was about to go down.
Aubrey and Hartley exchanged friendly pleasantries and then both sat at the table. Gideon sat to Aubrey's right. Liam took a chair a couple of seats away from her. He wanted room to observe and be ready to pounce when needed.
Aubrey seemingly listened intently to every word Hartley spouted. Liam’s heart hurt for her. Hearing what her uncle and cousin had left her couldn’t be easy. Considering what Green had left her, she would have some decisions to make regarding his many homes and properties.
He wanted this over for her, for them. They had waited twelve years to be together, and since they’d found each other again, danger had stalked her every move. Waking in the morning with Aubrey in his arms and knowing she was completely safe forever was his dream.
“That takes care of the houses and properties,” Hartley said. “There are several personal items as well.”
“Do we need to review each one?” Aubrey asked.
“Just a few.” He sent a quick glance to the cellphone in front of him and added, “I’ve ordered refreshments.”
Hearing the quiver in the man’s voice, Liam felt every nerve ending in his body go on alert. He exchanged a quick glance with Gideon and saw the acknowledgment in his eyes. Refreshments meant that another person would be entering the room.
And that person would enter with the intent to kill Aubrey.
The cart jangled with fine china and crystal as it made its way down the hallway toward the conference room. Though his heartbeat rarely rose when he was on a job, he felt a little extra blip for this one. He took pride in every kill. There was no point in doing them if you weren’t going to enjoy yourself. Sure, the money was nice, but it was the thrill that caused his adrenaline to surge.
This would be the most elaborate undertaking he’d ever endeavored. Dozens of people would be unknowing pawns in the biggest scene of his life.
As an actor, he loved stretching his creative muscles, and nothing got his blood zooming faster than when he could combine his two passions—role-playing and killing. What a challenge!
The disguise was elaborate and one he wouldn’t want to use on a regular basis. Not only was the costume horribly uncomfortable, he didn’t want to get the reputation that he would go to these lengths for any old job. This was a special hit, and when he pulled it off, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that he, Promethean, was the greatest ever.
Now to get the party started.
Aubrey’s mind buzzed with facts and figures. Her uncle had been a wealthy man, and because his daughter was gone, the bulk of his estate was going to his closest living relative, his niece. She wanted nothing from him. Everything he owned was tainted by the betrayal of his family and his country.
Becca’s will had been simple, straightforward, and absolutely heartbreaking. When Hartley had read that Becca had left all her jewelry and clothes to Aubrey, she had wanted to break into hysterical laughter. That sounded like something Becca would do as a prank. Their tastes had been totally different, and she thought her cousin was most likely grinning down from heaven at the joke.
She would donate what she could, and the other things, like Becca’s collection of classic old movies and rare first-edition books, she would keep and treasure.
All those things would have to wait until she could think without the veil of sorrow and fear blurring her mind.
At the mention of refreshments, Aubrey went tense, and the entire atmosphere of the room shifted to a crackling awareness. Hartley swallowed nervously several times and shuffled pages in front of him as if he was looking for something. It was as if everyone was holding their breath for the killer to strike.
She heard dishes rattling outside the door, and when a young woman entered the room, Aubrey was a little surprised. This woman didn’t look li
ke a threat. She was the same person who’d led them to the conference room. Dressed in a body-skimming dress of royal blue and stiletto heels, she looked as though she should be on a runway in Milan, not in a staid law firm serving tea and cookies.
“Thank you, Angelina,” Hartley was saying.
“I’ll pour the tea if you like,” Angelina said.
“That’s not necessary. We can serve ourselves.”
Giving everyone a blanket smile, Angelina backed out of the room and shut the door.
Aubrey glanced at the lovely tea set. Was the tea poisoned? Liam suspected her uncle had been killed that way. Maybe the cream or sugar? Or the cookies.
“Tea, Aubrey?” Hartley asked.
“No, thank you,” Aubrey said. “I really would like to proceed and get this over with.”
“Of course, of course.” The lawyer glanced over at Liam and Gideon. “Mr. Thorndike, Mr. Sims, would either of you like refreshments?”
Both Gideon and Liam shook their heads. If Norman Hartley thought it strange that neither of her legal advisors had spoken a word beyond hello since entering the room, he was too polite to say so.
Which was likely why he spilled the tea on the way to his mouth when Liam growled, “You really shouldn’t drink that.”
Setting the cup back onto the saucer, Hartley frowned at him. “Why is that?”
“Either you really don’t know, or the tea isn’t poisoned.”
“You think I would knowingly drink poisoned tea?”
“You’re not going to ask why I would think the tea is poisoned?”
“I’m assuming you believe someone means your client harm.” His eyes went hard as diamonds. “Is that right?”
Fascinated, Aubrey watched Norman Hartley transform from the pleasant, slightly boring man to someone she didn’t recognize.
He turned to her and said, “You’re doomed, my dear.”
Shooting up from his chair, Liam strode toward Hartley, and snapped at Gideon, “Get Aubrey out of here.” Grabbing hold of Hartley’s tie, he jerked him up and snarled, “What do you know, asshole?”
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