Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 0.5 - 3

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Luke tore his mouth from hers. “So, you’ll be my good girl and do exactly as I say. Play the game and everything will be just fine.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  Good, he thought, because when he scolded her and ordered her to go home in front of Arel’s men, she’d have no choice but to do as he said, or get him killed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Luke couldn’t get Julie out of here fast enough. He held Julie close as they headed for the exit of the ferry, ready to break through the ground and hand her off. By the time they were on the street and he was looking for one of his men, a black town-car pulled up in front of them. Immediately, a burly man in a dark suit got out.

  “Good evening, Mr. Walker,” he said, and then inclined his head at Julie, “Ms. Harrison.” He opened the back door. “Please enjoy your ride to the party.”

  Luke didn’t move. “Actually, Ms. Harrison will be returning to the city. We’ve had a...disagreement I’d prefer to deal with when we’re alone.”

  Julie gasped and turned to him. “Luke,” she said, and surprised him by sliding right into her role, “I promised I’d behave and I will. I was just upset about riding separately to the ferry and forgetting my coat.”

  “You’re both to come,” the said. “No deviation allowed.” His eyes met Luke’s. “Not if you want Mr. Arel’s business.” He lifted his coat just enough to make sure it was clear how far he’d go to get them in the car. “And just so you know, Arel gets rather cranky when someone turns down his invitations.” In other words, Julie came with them or she’d be killed. The man dropped the jacket and motioned them forward. “Shall we?”

  Where there was one gun, there were more, and probably pointed at them, waiting to take a shot. Luke motioned Julie into the car, wishing her dress showed a little less leg as she climbed inside.

  The instant she was safely out of view, Luke’s gaze lifted to the man’s, and Luke knew he was in a bad spot. He looked weak by letting Julie go along. He risked them both being killed, if he did not. Everything was a test: they either survived or failed and died. Luke didn’t intend to fail or die.

  Before the man could blink again, Luke grabbed the man’s wrist and reached for the gun, sliding his hand to the handle without removing it. “Be glad I want to meet your boss because I don’t like being disrespected in front of my woman, or anyone for that matter.” He released the man. “This stays between us, unless you give me a reason to consider you a liability. At which time I will hunt you down and kill you and tell your boss I got rid of his weak link.”

  As soon as he slid inside, he could almost feel the fear rolling off of Julie, and it wasn’t going to serve either of them well. He needed to come off confident and comfortable, and Julie couldn’t let her fear show. He pulled Julie close and slid her hand to his leg.

  “So, what are you going to do to make me glad I brought you along.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Nothing in front of the driver and the man who’d just recovered from wetting himself and slid into the front passenger seat, but it wasn’t that easy.

  Luke kissed her, his hand sliding up her leg. They were going to put on a show, and show as little as possible in the process.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a beachfront mansion that Luke would bet was used for entertainment, but wouldn’t be Arel’s actual home. No, Arel would not be stupid enough to live where he entertained. Water worked for him. He liked it, he could live with it, but with Julie by his side, it wasn’t a good escape route.

  The door opened and the same man who invited them into the car waved them out. Luke stepped out of the car, ignoring the coldness of the night as he tuned into what was important, even as he offered Julie a hand and helped her to her feet. Discreetly, he took in exit routes, numbers of vehicles, and signs of guards, and location of windows.

  Cold wind gusted across the ocean, whipping around Julie’s shoulders and she shivered, even with his coat wrapped around her. He wrapped his arm around her, trying to shield her from the force of the gusts until they stepped inside the foyer of the house. Julie shivered and blew on her hands.

  “In there,” the man said, motioning toward two massive double doors.

  Shelves of old books lining an entire wall of the room behind a massive oak desk. To the right of the desk a leather couch and two chairs framed a fireplace. In front of the desk were two chairs, and in front of those, three men, all dressed in black cargo pants, and all wearing shoulder holsters with guns.

  One of the men, the tallest of the three with a long blond pony tail and a face that looked like it could stop time, moved forward.

  “I’m Michael,” he said. “Head of security here. Well be doing a search before you enter the main house,” he said, and snapped at Julie, “Coat.”

  Luke helped Julie remove the jacket, keenly aware of the male attention on her. He handed the jacket to Michael, and when Michael’s gaze lingered on Julie’s breasts, Luke said, “You want to keep those eyes?”

  Michael’s attention snapped upward, a smile twitching on his lips that told Luke this one wasn’t as easily intimidated as the last.

  “Ladies, first,” Michael said, glancing at Julie. “Hands on the desk, and spread your legs.”

  Julie gasped and turned to Luke.

  “In your wet dreams, man,” Luke said, “but not in this lifetime.”

  The man arched a brow. “Either I search her or she spends the party here, with me.”

  He grabbed the coat from the man. “Tell your boss I don’t share well with others, but I’m damn good at what I do. When he wants to find out how good, he knows where to find me.” He turned, pulling Julie close, only to hear. “Wait.”

  Slowly, Luke turned around, arching a brow as the other man had only moments before.

  “We’ll provide a female to pat her down.”

  Luke still didn’t like it, but it was as close to compromise as he suspected they would get. He glanced at Julie and she wet her lips and nodded. Slowly, they turned back around.

  “Step forward,” the man ordered, clearly the only one of the three allowed to communicate. ”We’ll search you while we wait on the female, unless you’d prefer to be patted down by a woman yourself?”

  “Just the one you wish you could have and can’t,” Luke said, handing Julie the coat and stepping forward. The other two men stepped to the sides of the desk as Luke planted his hands on the wooden surface and let the asshole pat him down.

  When he shoved off the desk and turned, he stood toe to toe with the man and lowered his voice. “Just so we’re clear. If you so much as think about fucking her again, I’ll rip your balls out through your throat and hand them to your boss.” He turned away, as the ‘female’ who wasn’t much of a female at all walked in. Stocky, five foot five, and wearing cargo pants, she was more man than some he knew.

  Luke silently cursed as the ‘female’ sauntered forward, and gave Julie a once over from behind that made him want to backhand the bitch.

  Michael motioned the other men out of the room. “I’m staying to protect my guard.”

  The female guard stepped to Michael’s side and Luke could almost feel Julie’s discomfort, and the smirk on both Michael and the woman’s face said they were enjoying it.

  Julie inhaled and let it out. “Let’s get this over with.” Bravely, she walked forward. Michael and the female stepped aside and Julie planted her hands on the desk.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luke felt helpless watching the guard grope Julie. He should have protected her. He should have found a way to get her out of this. But it was over, finally over.

  When the party motioned toward the door, he pulled her close under his shoulder, and whispered, “I’m going to make this up to you.”

  She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him, and he knew she was struggling with her feelings, which only made him feel like a bigger dog. But he couldn’t think about that no
w. He had to focus, to make sure he knew how to get them out of here if he had to.

  They were led past a set of stairs and into a massive living room with a high ceiling, walls of massive stained-glass windows, and furniture in sleek black leather. A variety of people, all dressed to impress, mingled, Judge Moore included. Several waiters held trays filled with drinks.

  Luke glanced around to find the man who’d escorted them up gone, then he refocused on Julie and followed her gaze to the the painting of several sailboats on an ocean over a fireplace.

  “That Monét,” she whispered, “is supposed to be in a museum in London.”

  “It’s probably a fake,” he said, but Luke didn’t doubt the real thing was in Arel’s possession, thus why he had this one displayed.

  “I hope you’re right,” she said. “Because it’s worth a fortune.”

  Luke’s gaze returned to the judge to find he was sitting in a leather chair next to a man who’d not been there moments before. Dressed in an expensive suit, the thirty-something blond male oozed so much arrogant confidence that even if Luke hadn’t seen pictures of Arel, he’d have known it was him.

  The judge looked up and he and Luke locked gazes. He never even spared Julie a glance. Several seconds ticked by before he leaned in to listen to something Arel said. When the judge looked up again, he motioned to Luke to join them.

  “Play the game,” he said softly.

  “The game from hell,” she said, and smiled up at him and jokingly said with a bat of her lashes, “Whatever you say, my lord and master.”

  “And if I believed that I’d buy up all the swampland and be a millionaire.”

  She laughed, and it was well timed as they joined the two men. “Judge,” Luke said with a nod.

  “This is Paul Arel,” the Judge replied without acknowledging Luke’s greeting. “Your host.”

  “Bonsoir, Monsieur Walker.” He tilted his head toward Luke, but never offered his hand. Turning to Julie, his eyes carefully fixed on her eyes, and not her breasts, he said, “Et Ms. Harrison, tres belle, just as I have heard.”

  Luke knew why Arel watched her eyes. The eyes were the path to the soul, to your hidden secrets, and he was trying to read her. “Thank you,” Julie said. “And I so appreciate the invitation tonight.”

  “I hope the ride over was comfortable, Julie. You don’t mind if I call you Julie, do you? Certainly you may call me Paul.”

  “The ride was not what was expected,” Luke said, ending Arel’s attempt to pull down her guard, something he’d never achieve. Julie might be scared, but she was a brilliant attorney, and a smart cookie. ”I don’t like talking around things. Time is money, and I know you want more of it, as do I. I believe we can find some mutually beneficial ground, but trust needs to be established.”

  “Ah,” Arel said. “Indeed, it does. Why don’t you get a drink, and relax a bit. Then we can talk about exactly how my trust might be obtained. It will not be a easy task.”

  Damn, the man’s accent was killing him. Luke looked down at Julie. “Go get us drinks, darlin’, and let me talk business.”

  Julie nodded. “Of course.” She started to move and Luke pulled her mouth to his, sliding his tongue against hers, before he added, “Make it quick. I’m feeling rather thirsty all of a sudden.”

  Her eyes went wide but she nodded and he released her.

  Judge Moore stared at Julie’s retreating back and laughed in disbelief. “Tell me your secret for making a woman like that submissive.”

  Luke focused on the judge with a hard stare. “Start with being me, not you.”

  Arel barked out a laugh while the judge looked like he wanted to throttle Luke. There was growing interest in Arel’s attention to Luke. “You have balls, I’ll give you that, but do you have brains and stamina?”

  Luke’s lips twitched. “You’ll have to give me trust to find out.”

  Arel laughed. “Your brothers, they are, as you Americans say…saints? Why should I believe you are not one as well, perhaps in disguise?”

  “Because everyone who’s supposed to be a saint is, right?” he asked sarcastically, his gaze settling on the judge, and returning to Arel. “I assume you keep him around because his assumed sainthood has come in quite handy?”

  Arel didn’t reply, his gaze penetrating. “You were a SEAL, non?”

  “I was.”

  “SEALs are–“

  “Trained killers,” Luke provided.

  Arel considered that during another eternal pause. “What is it you feel you can do for me, Monsieur Walker?”

  Luke noted the formality. No first names for him. “I have a knack for procuring, shall we say, difficult to find artwork.” Luke’s gaze moved to the piece above the fireplace. “Much like that one.”

  Arel let a slow smile slip onto his lips. “You are an interesting man. Still, art is only a sideline interest. I need someone who can be more diverse.”

  Luke quirked a brow. “I consider everything.” He paused and then added, “If the price is right.”

  Arel’s eyes narrowed. “The woman, she has a powerful list of clients. You control her?”

  “Completely.”

  “You can get to anyone she can get to?”

  “Yes.”

  He narrowed his gaze. ”You will be tested, Monsieur Walker, and we will start small. See you don’t fail. Those who fail me, I don’t kill them until they feel great pain.”

  “I don’t fail. Ever. So get on with the test.”

  “You will be contacted,” Arel said, and then with a small smile, added, “Now go enjoy my hospitality, and please feel free to use the upstairs rooms for...” Arel flicked a glance at Julie as she approached. “Tonight should be about money and pleasure.” He smiled wickedly. “When you wish to leave, simply tell my driver.”

  He nodded to Luke, and then waved for the judge to follow him as he stood up started for the door, with the judge on his heels like a whipped pup.

  Julie blinked in confusion. “What happened?”

  He gave her a tight smile. “It’s moving along fine.”

  Lethally fine, that was.

  ***

  Judge Moore followed Arel into his private office, fighting his growing uneasiness. The room was filled with a large, mahogany desk, plush leather furnishings, and decorated with a vast collection of art. As usual the judge’s eyes locked onto the The D’Ambrosi, The Dancer, a bronze 15’ statue on a wooden base next to the desk he’d found for Arel. This one was fake, like everything in this place, but Arel had the real work, as he had so many brilliant masterpieces the judge hungered to possess.

  Two large brown wing chairs sat in front of a fireplace that sparked red hot. Waving a hand toward the chairs, Arel said, “Let’s sit.” The chairs were angled toward each other, and the judge knew Arel would be watching him the way he always watched everyone. Looking for anything that was off, any reason to consider someone a threat.

  Once they were seated, Arel opened a cigar box sitting on the small table between the two chairs. Arel smelled the cigar. “Ah,” he murmured. “So perfect.”

  He turned the box toward the Judge and waited expectantly for him to remove one. As Judge Moore sniffed the cigar he was aware of several guards entering the room and coming to stand near their backs. Arel often kept men nearby, but something about their silent entrance was bothersome.

  Arel lit both of their cigars. Then, he took several puffs of his cigar, taking his time to enjoy it. With each moment of silence, the judge felt his tension rise, bit by bit, until he was ready to come unglued. Carefully, he kept his expression neutral, but his mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.

  “So,” Arel finally said. “When were you going to tell me about the journal?”

  His first inclination was to play dumb. The judge started to speak and Arel held up a hand. “Don’t deny what I know already, or you will sadly regret your action, Judge.”

  The judge swallowed. Hard. He couldn’t let Arel have that journal
. What if it exposed his activity with Dragonfly? “I have it handled. My wife caused more trouble than I had hoped. I didn’t want you to feel I couldn’t take care of things.”

  Arel eyes narrowed. “You didn’t take care of things. I did. She might still be a problem had I left you to your own solutions.”

  He cleared his throat. “That’s why I didn’t want you to have to deal with this. I knew you would be angry.”

  Arel smiled, his lips twisting in an evil grin. “I don’t get angry.”

  The judge felt his empty hand tremble and clenched it into a fist. “I have this handled. It’s a small problem.”

  “You, Judge, are the problem. Be careful or you may be one I no longer tolerate. Answer me these questions. Why is Ms. Harrison holding the diary? And why is the sister of the dead wife missing? These things happen, yet you bring me Monsieur Walker. He controls her. He has the journal.”

  His mind raced and the truth seemed his best defense. “I believe the journal is how he found out about you, yes, and why I thought getting him inside our operation making money would ensure he was loyal. You saw how he controls her. She won’t do anything he doesn’t want her to do.”

  “If Monsieur Walker is as good as he seems to be at manipulation, he may want to use it against me at some point.”

  Arel leaned forward resting his arms on his knees. “Consider this handled as of now. I will resolve it.”

  “But–“

  Arel’s hand sliced through the air. “Non! I am done.” Then he spoke over his shoulder in French to one of the guards before speaking to the judge again. “You will go with Fredrick. He will remind you why I don’t like secrets.”

  The judge went cold, fear shooting through him at the speed of burning fuel. “Please, no. I won’t ever-“

  Arel cut him off. “No, you won’t.” He spoke to the guard in English this time. “Take him.”

  Two guards grabbed his arms as he struggled. The soft sound of a gun being cocked made him still. The judge looked up.