Читать книгу Catch, Release - Carol Ericson - Страница 11

Chapter Four

He was insane. Bobby’s father had gone over the edge. But then, what had she ever really known about him?

For the second time since he’d bulldozed back into her life, he had her pinned with his body—and it wasn’t as pleasurable as the first time he’d done it three years ago.

“Get off me.” She shoved at his chest, which might as well have been crafted from stone. “Are you going to hog-tie me and carry me back? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

His heart pounded against her chest, his breath ragged in her hair. His voice rasped. “Stay here.”

He rolled from her body and began an army crawl toward the window.

He didn’t plan to kill her after all, or haul her back to Prospero—at least not right this minute. She dragged a few breaths of air into her lungs and brought her knees to her chest, rocking forward.

He stopped his crawl and whipped his head around. “Stay down.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“Someone just tried to shoot you.”

“What?” She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling into a fetal position.

Beau shimmied to the drapes and yanked them across the windows from the bottom. “Crawl to the bathroom.”

Her mouth so dry she couldn’t peel her tongue from the roof, Deb mimicked Beau’s army crawl until she hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Grasping the edge of the tub, she pulled herself onto its edge.

A few seconds later, Beau joined her. He wedged his backside against the vanity and crossed his arms. “What the hell is going on?”

“You’re asking me?” The squeak in her voice echoed in the small space. “How do you know someone was trying to shoot me?”

“You had a red laser beam right here.” He planted the tip of his index finger in the middle of his forehead.

She gasped and her body sagged. She clutched the edge of the tub to stop her slide into it. “Someone had a scope on me?”

“Well, I don’t think it was a light show.”

“Did you see anything out the window?”

“I wasn’t looking, but there’s a building across the way. It must’ve come from there.”

She hoisted herself from the tub and flattened her hands on the vanity, leaning toward the mirror. “It couldn’t be Zendaris. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kill me before putting me to work?”

“My question exactly.” Beau turned to face the mirror and caught the eye of her reflection. “Unless he knows I’m here and he’s putting the brakes on his plan.”

“God, I hope not. If he thinks I called someone in to help me, he’ll kill Bobby—before he kills me.”

Beau ran a hand up her spine and clasped the back of her neck. “Let’s not think the worst. Do you have any way to contact him? The phone?”

“That’s a one-way phone. I can’t call out on it.”

“Who would be after you?”

She met his blue gaze in the mirror and swallowed hard. “Prospero.”

“Prospero hired me.”

She shrugged away from him and returned to the tub, gripping the plastic shower curtain with one hand. “Maybe Prospero hired two Lokis—one to reel in the catch and one to gut her.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If that were the plan, I would’ve left you in range of the little red dot on your forehead instead of pushing you down.”

“Maybe Prospero is using you.” She shoved the shower curtain away from her and the silver rings clattered on the rod. “Do you really think Jack Coburn isn’t aware that we slept together? He knew all along. That’s why he hired you. He figured you were the best person to find me. Figured I might just trust you instead of running away...or killing you.”

“I hope he’s right.” He hooked a thumb in his pocket and a crooked grin played across his face.

“I fail to see the humor.” She shoved her hands in her hair, letting it run through her fingers and fall about her shoulders.

“Coburn wouldn’t order your execution without listening to what you had to say first. My assignment was to find you and bring you in.”

“That was your mission.” Her gaze tracked to the open bathroom door. “Maybe he gave someone else different orders.”

He pushed off the vanity and grabbed her hand. “I think you’re looking in the wrong direction, Deb. Prospero doesn’t want you dead.”

“Someone does, and it’s not Zendaris—at least not yet.”

“We’re getting out of here.” He squeezed her hand. “Check out and we’ll find another place.”

“B-but I’m not supposed to leave.”

“Do you think Zendaris would rather have you dead? He has you exactly where he wants you. He’s not going to squander this opportunity.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “What if it’s all a game? What if Zendaris doesn’t even care about those plans? He kidnapped Bobby and now he’s torturing me. He has a personal vendetta against us, you know.”

“Prospero?”

“Prospero Team Three specifically. One of our members recently discovered that Zendaris’s wife may have been a casualty of the raid we conducted on one of his munitions factories. He blames us for killing his wife.”

Beau whistled through his teeth. “That puts a different spin on this.”

“Exactly. He wants revenge. What better way than to kidnap my son and then toy with me before...before he kills us both.”

Beau pulled her against his chest, wrapping both of his strong arms around her. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it happen.”

“Why are you helping me, Beau?” She rubbed her nose against the soft flannel of his shirt. “Is it really just to get a crack at Zendaris?”

“That and I have a soft spot for...kids.” He tilted her head up with a finger beneath her chin. “Do you take me for some kind of coldhearted killer?”

She blinked her eyes. “I’d heard about you before I ran into you that night in Zurich—the mysterious Loki, Norse god of mischief. I knew all the stories—the hostage rescue in Mali, boarding that Somali pirate ship, taking down the mastermind behind that string of embassy bombings in London, the assassinations.”

He put a finger against her lips. “Didn’t happen.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged. She’d been half in love with Loki before she’d ever set eyes on him in the hotel bar where she’d been gathering intelligence at a conference of oil-producing nations.

Of course, she hadn’t known the man of steel with the cobalt-blue eyes sipping scotch at the end of the mahogany bar was Loki in the flesh. But on some level, she’d sensed it. Waves of power and danger had emanated from him and washed over her like some seductive potion.

Their eyes met across the room and an electric current had zapped her down to her toes. Just like now.

The rough pad of his thumb trailed across her cheek and over her lips, which throbbed at his touch. She dropped her lashes, avoiding the fire in his eyes, afraid of getting scorched once again.

It didn’t work.

His palm cradled the side of her head. His lips touched hers, and her bones melted.

She huffed out a breath against his mouth as she hooked an arm around his neck to stay vertical.

He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth across hers, sliding his tongue between her teeth.

God help her. She’d bed him as quickly as she had in Zurich. He could have her right here on the bathroom floor and she’d welcome any discomfort, any inconvenience to have him inside her again.

But now she had responsibilities. She planted her palms against his chest, and her fingers tingled to explore the hard slabs of muscle that shifted beneath his flannel shirt.

She pushed him away even as her lips kept contact with his.

Despite her mixed messages, he got the hint and stepped back, ending their heated kiss. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“Me, too.” She put a hand over her mouth as if to remove the temptation. “It just felt kind of good to share my burden, you know?”

Of course, sharing her burden didn’t mean winding up in bed with the first man to offer his help. Not that Loki was just some man. He’d been the man for the past three years of her life.

“Let’s get out of here.” He dropped to the floor again. “I’m going to get that wig for you. Wear it out of here. We’re going to have to take the car Zendaris provided or he’ll wonder how you’re getting around.”

“It’s parked in the hotel parking lot. Where are we going?”

“Another hotel, but we’ll stay in Cambridge just so you can show good faith to Zendaris. We don’t want him to think you’re trying to escape.”

“What if that sniper was a test? What if he wants me to stay put no matter what happens?”

“Even Zendaris is not going to expect you to put yourself in mortal danger. He wouldn’t trust someone like that to find the anti-drone plans.”

Beau crawled back across the floor and swept the blond wig from the bed along with the phone and dragged the designer bag over the carpet. Once back in the bathroom, he shoved them at her.

“Here you go.”

She tucked her hair beneath the wig, punched her arms into the sleeves of the coat and slung the heavy bag over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”

Beau poked his head into the hallway and then gestured her through the door. Placing a hand against the small of her back, he guided her toward the stairwell. “Can you navigate the stairs in those shoes? I don’t want to be a sitting duck in the elevator.”

She kicked off the shoes and shrank five inches, her head barely reaching Beau’s chin. “Lead the way.”

They ducked into the stairwell. The rubber soles of Beau’s running shoes squelched against the steps while her bare feet made her his silent companion.

“We have to go through the lobby to get to the parking garage.” She pointed at the metal door on the ground floor.

“Keep your head down.” He pushed open the door.

People crisscrossed the lobby on their way back from their business meetings or sightseeing for the day. Deb’s gaze darted from group to group, seeing some imagined threat in each one.

Beau hustled her out the side door onto a cement path that led to the garage. He blocked her body with his, his blue eyes wary and alert, his hand nestled in his pocket—the pocket where his gun resided.

He still had her weapon, too. He may be planning to help her rescue Bobby, but he didn’t quite trust her.

Should she trust him?

Maybe his willingness to help her was a ploy to get her back to Prospero. And the kiss had been designed to soften her up.

If Beau planned to turn her over to Prospero, he’d learn soon enough she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. She’d fight like a caged animal to save Bobby, even if that meant doing battle against Bobby’s father.

She’d put her shoes back on before they hit the lobby and now the clicking sound of the heels echoed on the parking garage’s cement floor. “The car’s in the next aisle.”

She unlocked the car as they approached it. Beau slid into the passenger seat and she tossed the bag into the backseat. Revving the engine, she turned toward him. “Where to?”

He rattled off some directions when they exited the parking structure.

“I wanted to get more info from you before that sniper took aim at your head. Where were you when Bobby was kidnapped? Where do you live?”

“In Virginia, outside of D.C.”

“Zendaris sent you to Boston after the kidnapping?”

“Yes. Turn here?”

He nodded. “Is the jewelry heist the first thing he asked of you?”

“After he told me to fly into Logan Airport.”

“Do you think Bobby’s still in the Virginia area, or do you think he’s here?”

“My gut tells me he’s here. If the plans are in Boston Zendaris would want to do the swap here, not go back to Virginia.” She gripped the steering wheel to stem the tide of panic that washed through her every time she thought about Bobby being held captive by that maniac.

“Any idea what’s in Boston?”

“Besides a jewelry store on Beacon Hill? I have no idea. As far as we know, Zendaris doesn’t have any connections here.”

“Interesting.” Beau tapped his chin with his middle finger.

“What’s interesting? Boston?”

“The old Deb Sinclair would know that there’s a symposium on weapons of the future at MIT this week.”

“Really?” Her head jerked his way. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the old Deb Sinclair had melted into a puddle on the floor of her son’s daycare the day he went missing.

But this new Deb Sinclair wasn’t so unfamiliar. This Deb Sinclair, ruled by fear and anger, had controlled the first sixteen years of her life, until she’d had the good fortune to try to steal from Robert Elder.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Zendaris sent you to Boston at the same time as this gathering. He wants those anti-drone plans. Maybe he thinks one of the symposium’s attendees has them.”

“This is an international gathering?”

“It is. Scientists and engineers from all over the world will be there.”

She drummed her thumbs against the steering wheel, feeling a spark of life for the first time since Bobby’s abduction. Her brain clicked and whirred as if coming to life after a long winter hibernation.

“He could be right. Maybe the woman who stole the plans from Stark sold them to the highest bidder before she died. Maybe she had no intention of giving them back to Zendaris.”

“The woman who stole the plans is dead? Did Zendaris kill her?”

“One of ours did, self-defense. She was mentally unbalanced.”

“Those are the hardest ones to figure out. There’s no telling what she did with the plans or why she did it.”

“Still, you’re right. My presence in Boston at the same time as the symposium is no coincidence. Have the meetings started yet?”

“Meetings have been ongoing for two days.”

“Did you connect my being in Boston with this conference?”

“Not until you told me about the anti-drone plans.”

“Then why was this symposium even on your radar?”

He turned his head to look out the window. “It’s my business to know.”

And just like that, Beau the helpful spy morphed into Loki, man of mystery and danger.

She pulled into the loading zone of the new hotel and Beau got them a room.

He dropped onto the passenger seat and tipped his head toward the windshield. “You can park up that ramp.”

Ten minutes later they were traipsing down another hotel hallway, but Deb felt less trepidation now that she had Beau by her side. Or should she be feeling more?

His concern could all be an elaborate ruse to lull her into compliance. When she least expected it, her Prospero teammates could crash the party and drag her back for questioning all at Beau’s invitation. But her brothers on Team Three had to know she’d never betray them.

Then why not confide in them? The words floated through her mind, and even her answer to that question felt like a betrayal.

Beau pushed open the hotel room door. “One room but two double beds. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” She tossed the purse onto the bed farthest from the window. “And I hope it’s okay that I snag the bed away from the window.”

“I was going to suggest it.” He clicked the remote control for the TV and swiped a room service menu from the table. “Are you hungry? Maybe we should just eat in the room tonight.”

She twitched aside the curtain at the window. “You’re sure we weren’t followed?”

“Positive.” He waved the menu. “Food?”

“Yeah, whatever.” She hadn’t eaten a decent meal since Zendaris had snatched Bobby.

She plucked the special phone from her pocket and placed it on the nightstand.

Beau said, “He’s sure taking his sweet time.”

“He’s holding all the cards.” Deb shrugged out of the coat and hung it in the closet. Then she toed off the heels and stretched out on the bed, stacking a few pillows behind her back and crossing her legs at the ankles.

“I’ll order for both of us if that’s okay.” He peered at her over the top of the menu. “You look like you could use a good meal.”

“Food has been low on my list of priorities lately.”

“You should know from training that you need to keep yourself in fighting condition.”

“You don’t get it.” That’s why she never confided in her Prospero brothers, either. They weren’t mothers. When Zendaris had kidnapped her son, he’d carved a hole in her heart. He’d left her half a person.

Beau was Bobby’s father, but he didn’t know he was a father. He could talk about being in fighting condition and being aware of one’s surroundings, but he was a whole person, not a shell like she’d become.

Beau shrugged and picked up the phone. He cradled the receiver against his shoulder as he read off enough dishes to feed the entire hotel.

Deb fluffed up the pillows behind her and stared at the local TV news through half-closed eyes. A shot of MIT had her leaning forward. She snapped her fingers at Beau, who was adding desserts to their order.

She simulated pressing buttons on a remote and he tossed it to her. She increased the volume on the TV.

The voice-over of the reporter droned on about a weapons symposium. The brief report didn’t mention any names until the very end.

“Dr. Scott Herndon, professor emeritus at MIT and frequent advisor to the Pentagon, is chairing the symposium, which will include a gala event on the last night to raise funds for war-torn areas across the globe.”

When the report ended, Deb muted the sound. “That’s it, isn’t it? Sounds like a big deal.”

“Anything discussed in those meetings is going to be top secret. How does Zendaris expect to get any information out of that symposium?”

“The symposium ends tomorrow.” She glanced at the cell phone on the nightstand. “If Zendaris wants me to make a move, you’d think he would’ve contacted me by now—unless that scope to the forehead was his way of reaching out.”

“I don’t think Zendaris is trying to kill you. It doesn’t add up.” Beau perched on the edge of the other bed and rested his ankle on his knee. “Any assignment he has for you will most likely come at the last minute to give you less time to prepare. He wants to keep you off balance.”

“He’s doing a great job.” She tossed the remote to Beau’s bed and collapsed against her pillows. “He still hasn’t allowed me any contact with Bobby. I don’t even know for sure if he’s alive or...”

“What’s the matter with you?” Beau smacked his hand against his thigh. “You need that proof of life, Deb. Don’t do another thing he tells you to do unless you get something on Bobby.”

“I demanded it the last time we spoke, but he refused.” Crossing her arms, she hunched her shoulders against the persistent chill in her bones.

“You hold some cards here, too. Before you carry out your next assignment, you need assurance of Bobby’s safety.”

“What if he refuses again and threatens to hurt him? I can’t play chicken with my son’s life.” She rubbed her tingling nose. “What makes this even worse is that Bobby wasn’t in the best of health prior to the kidnapping.”

“He was sick?”

“He’d been listless, which was so unlike him. I thought he may have caught a bug, but he didn’t have any cold or flu symptoms.”

“Did you take him to the doctor?”

She slid a glance at Beau, who’d twisted around on the foot of the bed to face her. Did he sense his connection to Bobby on some level?

“He had a doctor’s appointment the day before he was snatched. The doc ran some tests on him, took his blood and urine, that type of thing. I haven’t heard anything back from the tests yet, but it’s only been a week.”

“Then you really need to demand to see him or talk to him. What story is Zendaris feeding him?”

“I have no idea. He’s only two. I’m sure he doesn’t understand why I’ve abandoned him.” She covered her face with her hands. “Once a child is abandoned, he never gets over it.”

The mattress sank and Beau encircled her wrists with his fingers. “Nonsense. You recovered nicely. Hell, you’re one of the most well-adjusted people I know.”

“You don’t know me. We spent one night together.”

“That’s all I need to figure someone out.”

She spread her fingers and peeked at him through the spaces. “That’s not saying much considering the types of people you hang out with.”

He raised his brows. “When I’m not doing the spy thing, I have the most boring existence you can imagine. My dad’s a mechanic, my mom’s a secretary at the local high school. Staid. Boring.”

“Is that why you went all out on the career path to become one of the most feared assassins in the business?”

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. “I’m no assassin, Deb. Nobody got killed who didn’t deserve it. Nobody who wasn’t a threat to other lives.”

Someone rapped on the door with a shout. “Room service.”

Holding out his hand, Beau rose from the bed and crept to the door, lifting his weapon from its holster on the way. He stood to the side of the door and put his eye to the peephole. “Can you slide the check under the door, man? I’ll sign it, send it back and you can leave the food.”

“Sure.”

A slip of paper sailed beneath the door and Beau plucked it from the carpet. He backed up to the credenza and signed the bill. Then he shoved it back through the door and watched from the peephole.

The waiter called out, “Thanks.”

Beau waited several seconds and then opened the door and wheeled the cart into the room. “Can’t be too careful, huh?”

“If he’s been working in hotels a while, I’m sure he’s seen everything.”

Beau stationed the cart by the table and began lifting silver domes. “Looks good. You hungry?”

The steam that rose from the dishes carried some savory scents that made her mouth water. It had been several days since she’d eaten a real meal, and her stomach grumbled with the realization.

“I am hungry.”

Beau transferred the plates from the cart to the table and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”

Deb shook out a thick white napkin and dropped it on her lap. She started with the soup and didn’t stop until she’d licked the last smudge of cream cheese frosting from her fork.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten more than a few bites of food?”

She patted her mouth with the napkin. “Since the day they took Bobby.”

“I thought so. You look—” his gaze dipped from her face to her body and back again “—a little thinner than when I last saw you.”

Warmth crept into her cheeks and she covered the bottom half of her face with the napkin, pretending to wipe her mouth again. He should know.

They’d spent almost the entire night naked in her hotel room. They’d eaten room service that night, too, but not seated at a table with napkins in their laps. They’d lounged across the king-size bed, feeding each other morsels of food, even incorporating the chocolate cake into their lovemaking. Instead of daintily patting their mouths with napkins, they’d hauled off to the shower, together.

She coughed. “Being a mom keeps me on my toes. I don’t have as much time to work out at the gym, but I get to run at the playground and throw balls and chase after a speeding tricycle.”

“Sounds like you love it...and him.”

Deb studied his face. Was it time to tell him Bobby was his? Nope. Loki wouldn’t want to be saddled with a son anyway. How could he squeeze in a battle with Somali pirates between Little League games?

Beau Slater may have come from ordinary, but he didn’t want to go back there.

The cell phone by the bed chirped. The fork she’d been dragging across a plate dropped with a clatter and she half rose from her chair.

“It’s him.”

“Answer it. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

She swallowed and all the sweetness from the carrot cake dissolved like ashes on her tongue. When the phone rang for the fourth time, she dived across the bed and grabbed it.

“Yes?”

“Good job at the jewelry store. You can keep the loot.”

“I don’t want it. What was the point of that? Someone could’ve gotten hurt.”

Beau jerked his thumb up, and she punched a button for the speaker.

“Someone would’ve gotten hurt if you hadn’t followed our instructions, Deb. Just look at it that way.”

“I—I’m in a different hotel. Someone was aiming a high-powered weapon into my hotel room this afternoon. I saw the beam on the wall.”

Zendaris sucked in a breath. “Are you scamming me, Deb?”

“Are you scamming me? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why would I do that? We’re just getting started.” He clicked his tongue. “But maybe your colleagues want you dead.”

“Never.” Her gaze darted toward Beau slumped in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Why had Prospero sent the best in the business after her?

“Are you sure about that? If the mighty Jack Coburn gets wind of your betrayal, you’re finished.”

She ground her teeth together. “It’s not a betrayal if it’s coerced.”

“But they don’t know that, do they? Do they, Deb?”

“As far as Prospero is concerned, I’m on a leave of absence. They have no reason to suspect otherwise.”

“Where are you?”

“Another hotel in Cambridge.” She held her breath. Would he demand the location?

“Excellent.”

“What next, Zendaris? A bank robbery? A high-speed chase?”

“A party.”

She raised her shoulders at Beau. “You want me to go to a party?”

“A very special party with very special people.”

“Where?” Deb licked her lips.

“In Boston. You’ll be attending the gala fundraiser as part of the Symposium on Alternate Methods of Defense.”

“What do you want me to do at this party besides eat, drink and be merry?”

“I want you to get close to Dr. Scott Herndon.”

“Get close to him and do what?”

“Kill him.”