Читать книгу Have Mercy - Jo Leigh - Страница 8

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THE HUSH ROOFTOP garden was as lush with fragrance as it was with beauty. Drina had found a small wooden table under a shade tree where she could drink her mimosa and stare at her still-empty journal. She closed her eyes as a warm humid breeze caressed her face, wishing as always that Marius could be with her.

If Marius had still been alive he would have approved. Her duty was to make sure the bastards paid for what they’d done. To catch them at the perfect moment and expose them for the thieves they were.

After another sip of her drink she picked up the pen that had been her husband’s. It was silver and it had once had the name of a stranger engraved on the top, but now there was no name, only the memory of her beautiful Marius…and how she missed his touch.

She put the pen to the paper, marking down the date, the weather, the scent of roses. And then she went back in time, to before she was born. The stories of how the family had come to America were more vivid to her than the television show she’d watched last night.

All her life the old ones had repeated the tales, had sat the children around the tables and gone through the litany of trials they’d faced while keeping each other safe, always begun and ended with the dangers of assimilation. They were separate. They were special. No one was safe outside the circle of family.

She wrote quickly, not lifting the pen for a page, then two, as she remembered her mother. She’d been fourteen when she’d come to NewYork, already married and pregnant with Drina’s eldest brother. The trip over on the boat had nearly cost Stefan his new life, but once Mama had gone to New Jersey with Papa, he’d flourished. The family had grown with uncles, aunts, cousins. They worked together, lived together. Drina had spoken the old language until she’d been forced to go to school. It had been a horrible time for her. Strangers, strange ways. The other children laughed at her Romanian accent, at her lunches, at her hand-me-down clothes.

It didn’t matter. The family was everything, and from the time she could walk she’d been in training.

In her family, the girls were treated no differently from the boys except that they learned early to use their sex. Not that way. That was what the outsiders believed, but in her family, they raised good girls. Good girls who were expert pickpockets and who understood how to work the con.

She’d been pure until the day she’d married Marius. How she’d wanted him. He was the best-looking boy she’d ever seen. The moment they’d met, she’d known they would be together. Forever.

They would have still been together if it hadn’t been—

The ding of the elevator made her look up, forgetting for a moment where she was. A blink later she remembered why she was here, and that she had to be careful.

She closed the memory book, finished the rest of her drink. Then sat back in the shadows to wait. To see if they kept to their schedule. To see the bastards who’d sent her Marius to prison and to his death.

Five minutes passed with nothing but the breeze to stir the air. She thought of Dennis, her current gentleman friend. He was pleasant, a decent man, but just another distraction. As she waited, she wondered again why she bothered. The only thing that mattered in her life was this. Was revenge.

Another two minutes, and she wished she hadn’t finished her drink. Then a sound.

She waited, knowing she would see them as they walked the dog, but that they couldn’t see her. Knowing they wouldn’t leave the path. They were predictable and that made them fools.

This dog, unlike the annoying Pumpkin, didn’t bark. But it did make enough noise that Drina was able to back up even farther before she saw them.

The diamonds in the collar glittered in the sun but Drina’s eyes narrowed for another reason. The two of them—her holding the leash, him with his hand in his pockets—walked through the garden as if they weren’t evil. As if they’d never betrayed the family. Never spit on the memory of their ancestors.

They wouldn’t gloat for long. Soon, they would be sorry. They would curse the day they’d turned on Marius, and they would have the rest of their lives to think about their sins. The dog was the key.

Fools. Did they imagine she needed Marius to figure out their con? Drina had known from the first. It had taken strength and perseverance to figure out their plan, but she’d been trained by the best. She would have her revenge and it would taste like her husband’s kiss.

FOUR DOGS, each of them over seventy pounds, walked behind Mercy in polite formation, undistracted by the pedestrians, the cars, the scents of Madison Avenue. They knew they were heading for the park, and the park meant rolling in the grass, sniffing all manner of things, running like mad.

Gilly had four dogs of her own, not as large as Mercy’s group but just as well-behaved. The two women couldn’t walk next to each other as they would have owned the whole street, but they still managed to talk.

This morning’s walk, there was only one topic. Will Desmond.

“He was totally flirting with you,” Gilly said. “I was across the room and I saw it.”

“He was trying to get me to help train his dog.”

“That was his excuse, Mercy. He wants you.”

Mercy laughed. “Yeah, right. Did you look at him?”

“The more important question is have you looked at you?”

“I have,” she said. “I’ve even had dinner with me, and I’ll tell you right now, a man like Will Desmond is as interested in me as he is a toaster.”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

“Gilly, don’t be absurd.” They turned the corner, and her dogs got a bit excited, lunging forward. They all knew the route to the park, and they wanted to be there now. She corrected the behavior and like the good puppies they were, they eased back into contented pack mode.

Gilly followed suit with her group.

Gilly had already been at Hush when Mercy had gotten the job. She’d been a cocktail waitress at Exhibit A, the downstairs club that had been the sight of the recent scandal, but she’d hated the work. She’d taken a huge pay cut, but Gilly had a real affinity for the animals.

Mercy had liked her from the first day, and while she’d never had a lot of friends, she and Gilly had grown closer and closer as they’d worked side-by-side.

Mercy loved that Gilly was so open and friendly, although it probably would have worked out better for both of them if Gilly would stop trying to fix her up.

Although she was as honest as she could be with Gilly, she hadn’t been able to tell her a lot about her past. A person doesn’t just come out with that kind of stuff after a lifetime of holding it in. Gilly didn’t understand that Mercy hadn’t lived the kind of suburban, middle-class life that included boys and dating and sock hops or whatever the hell people did in the suburbs.

“When’s the last time you went out?”

Mercy sighed. “Gilly, let it go.”

“No. I won’t. You haven’t been out with a guy in a hundred years.”

“That’s true. And it’ll be another hundred until the next one.”

“Mercy!”

“I’m not pursuing this. It’s ridiculous. The man is so far out of my league he’s in another dimension, so let it go.”

“What if he isn’t? What if I’m right and he was hitting on you?”

“So?”

They stopped at the street corner, Gilly moving up so that all the dogs were lined up as if they were going to race. Mercy ignored the evil glances from their fellow pedestrians. Normally, she’d have pulled back, but the light was going to change in a hot second.

“Let’s make this hypothetical.”

“No. Let’s not.”

Gilly glared her way, then went on as if Mercy hadn’t said a word. “Let’s say Will thought you were hot. That he asked you to help train Buster as a way of getting to know you.”

“Gil—”

The light turned green and the team crossed the street in a frenzy of sniffing and lurching. They were too close to the park to be having this stupid conversation.

“Let’s say that you agreed to help him train the dog. And you agreed to do it in his suite. Which is suite fourteen-twelve, by the way, one of the really, really expensive suites.”

“I’m not listening.”

“You are so. Anyway, you go up to his room. Get Buster to sit. Will pulls you into his arms for a bone- melting kiss—”

“Gilly, stop.”

“You tear off each other’s clothes and go at it like poodles. You’re happy and exhausted. He’s happy and exhausted. Buster knows how to sit on command. What’s so terrible about that?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s a guest?”

“In your case, we can make an exception. I think I saw it in the employee’s handbook. Anyone who hasn’t been laid in a year gets to screw any guest they want to.”

Mercy looked at her ex-friend. “Gee, next time, maybe you can have that printed on a T-shirt so everyone would know.”

“No one on this street cares if you’ve gotten laid.”

“I do.”

Mercy jerked around to see a grinning homeless man standing a few inches away.

She scowled at Gilly and speeded up.

Gilly laughed so hard the dogs got scared. Not that she cared. Gilly was one of those people who walked through life as if it was her playground. She didn’t get scared, didn’t blush, and when she made a fool of herself she shrugged it off with such ease it made Mercy cry from envy.

It didn’t hurt that she was pretty, either. Tall, voluptuous, with dark curly hair that framed her face and made her look a hell of a lot more innocent than she was. Gilly also had a fabulous boyfriend, Gordon, who was a concierge at the Muse.

The park was just across the street, and while they waited to cross there was no use even trying to talk. All focus was on the dogs, who were salivating to go inside the fenced-in doggie area and run around in the grass.

It was always a joy to take off their leashes, to see them grin their puppy grins as they darted into the thick of things. Today, the dog park was a little crowded, but there was still an empty bench, which she and Gilly snagged.

“The great thing about him is that he’s leaving,” Gilly said as she wrapped her leashes into a big roll.

“He’s a guest.”

“He’s leaving. You know how people are when they check in to Hush. He’s got that whole chest of toys just sitting there, calling him. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I get fired.”

“Come on. That’s never gonna happen. Piper loves you. She’d never fire you.”

“If I’m caught, what choice would she have?”

“You won’t get caught.”

Mercy smiled. “That’s right. Because I’m not going to do it.”

Gilly shook her head. “You’re too smart to let this opportunity get away from you. He’s gorgeous, he’s horny, he’s leaving. It’s a gift, Mercy. You just have to unwrap it and it’s yours.”

“I just have to take care of the pets,” she said.

Gilly’s look was meant to urge her on, but all Mercy felt was pathetic. She should never have talked to any of them about her personal life. Hadn’t she learned by now to keep her big mouth shut?

“Maybe it’s okay, once every five years or so, to take care of yourself. The animals are great, Mercy, but they’re not a substitute for love.”

“Love?” Mercy snorted. “Come on—”

“Okay, so maybe not love, but how about human companionship? How about comfort? People need contact. It’s how we’re designed, and you’re no different.”

“I’ve had all the contact I need.”

“No, you haven’t. Besides, if it gets you out of your apartment for a night…”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any sense.”

“See? I knew you’d come around. Now, we just have to make sure Gorgeous Will comes back to visit Buster—”

Mercy slugged her friend in the shoulder, which did shut her up. But it wouldn’t stop her from plotting and planning. It’s what Gilly did best.

IT WAS JUST PAST six when Will found himself an empty stool at Erotique, the Hush bar. He’d tried, with no success, to change Mercy’s mind about training Buster, and with that defeat he’d realized he’d have to take another tack.

“Glenfiddich,” he said to the bartender.

“I’ve got the single malt or the special reserve.”

“Single malt.”

The bartender, a tall guy who was undoubtedly working here until he got his big break on Broadway, went off to fetch the scotch and Will turned to case the room. The bar was just starting to fill with the after- work crowd, and he was once again amazed at the obvious signs of wealth. This place was a treasure trove of watches, diamond rings, laptops, iPhones and electronic gear of every stripe. Even the briefcases were polished leather and monogrammed, of course.

And the women were all beautiful. Even if they hadn’t been born that way, they used every trick in the book to appear as if their good looks were nothing special. He wondered how many cosmetic surgeons were sending their kids to Harvard from this crowd alone.

He was one of the lucky ones. He’d been born with his grandfather’s dark handsomeness, and he’d learned early not to squander the gift. It had made so much of life so much easier.

Women had never been a problem, and even in business, people were more likely to part with money if the person asking had a symmetrical, pleasing face and body.

Personally, he never understood why so many people didn’t clue in to the beauty factor. It was just a fact of human nature, not good, not bad. Simply useful.

“Here you go, sir,” the bartender said. “Can I get you anything else?”

Will pulled a folded hundred out of his jacket pocket and discreetly pushed it into the young man’s hand. “Tell me something, Karl. What do you know about Mercy Jones?”

“Mercy…oh, you mean the pet concierge.”

Will nodded before taking his first sip. The scotch was unbelievably smooth, and he savored the slow, subtle burn.

“Let’s see.” Karl picked up a glass and a cloth, and proceeded to use one on the other. “She’s one of Ms. Devon’s projects. Found her in a shelter.”

“I heard she worked for animal rescue?”

“Yeah. But she was something of a rescue herself, although that’s all rumor. She’s the quiet type. About everything. I see her in the cafeteria from time to time, but she keeps to herself.”

“Not dating anyone?”

“Not that I’ve seen. But one of the waitresses knows her. I’ll ask.”

“Thanks, Karl. I appreciate it.”

Karl took a few more orders, but given the size of his tip, Will felt sure he’d find out all he could. And now that that piece of business was in motion, it was time to relax. To appreciate his drink, to think about Drina and the damned diamond dog collar.

Drina, he surmised, was going to steal the thing. Fine. What he couldn’t figure out, however, was what she was planning to do with it, after she had it. The collar was undoubtedly insured, and since it was such an unusual piece, the police would notice if it suddenly came on the market. He doubted any reputable fence would take the thing, at least not for a few years.

Besides, it wasn’t a smart move. That made him more uncomfortable than anything else. Drina was not a stupid woman, and she didn’t make big mistakes. Was she losing it? Or was there something about this collar that he hadn’t discovered yet?

His money was on the latter.

“Mr. Desmond?”

So Karl had gotten his name. Smart kid.

“Mercy doesn’t have a boyfriend, no. She spends all her time at PetQuarters.”

Will bit back a smile as Karl leaned in and told his tale as if he was spilling the beans to Jason Bourne. All very hush-hush.

“She’s very tight with Gilly, who works with her, but that’s about it. Word is she’s doing everything she can to get her big bonus so that she can move to a place of her own.”

“Big bonus?”

He nodded. “She’s trying to get enough day business so Piper will turn the building next door into a huge pet facility. If Mercy does it, brings in enough revenue, she gets a bonus. I’m not sure how much, but I can probably find out.”

“No, that’s fine, Karl, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” The young man smiled and turned to help his other customers.

Just before he was out of earshot, Will said, “Karl, one more thing.”

“Sir?”

“You know anything about that crazy dog collar? It’s a fake, right? It has to be a fake.”

Karl shook his head. “Oh, no, sir. It’s no fake. Everyone knows about the diamond collar. It was even in the paper. It’s worth, I don’t know, almost a million dollars. At least, that’s what I heard. Can you imagine? Putting that kind of money on a dog?”

“Well, I’ll be damned. I never would have guessed.”

“You’d be surprised the kind of crazy stuff that goes on in a hotel like this. I could tell you stories—”

“I’ll bet you could. Tell you what, though. Let’s refill this glass, first.”

Karl nodded and headed for the bottle.

Will got comfortable. He probably wouldn’t learn anything useful from Karl’s tales of hotel life, but it was worth listening nonetheless. It wouldn’t hurt to get an insider’s view, and besides, he’d learned young not to let any opportunity slip by.

Just the fact that all the employees knew about the collar was something that might come in real handy.

His smile fell as he thought about Mercy. He’d been right about her. She wasn’t being coy with those blushes. She’d had enough trouble in her life to want to keep it to herself. That should have made him happy. So much easier to get what he wanted from a woman with big issues. But all he felt was tired.

He wanted to go home. He wanted…

Shit, he didn’t even know what he wanted.