Читать книгу A Model Spy - Natalie Dunbar - Страница 13

Still somewhat shaken that she’d agreed to the assignment, Vanessa sat in the Gotham Rose basement consultation room, trying to concentrate on the mission file Renee had given her. She needed to have her head examined. She was committed to keeping her word, but deep inside she wanted to skip out of the room as fast as her pink suede shoes would take her. The invisible bond of her conscience was the only thing that kept her glued to the chair.

Across the table from her, Cody Mackenzie’s mere presence crowded the room. A cloud of negative vibes hovered over his head and threatened to drench everyone in the room. When he glanced her way, there was an unpleasant expression on his face. His nostrils flared and the corner of his wide mouth curled. He looked like he’d been sucking lemons. What was his problem?

Vanessa thought back on everything that had happened since Mackenzie appeared. Yes, she’d initially refused the assignment, but that was her right and she’d had good reasons. Yes, she’d weathered some emotional moments when she’d heard about poor Gena and her friend, but she’d done nothing to earn Mackenzie’s enmity.

On a large media screen at the front of the room, Renee projected pictures and provided details. Vanessa stared at the pictures of the models: both had been beaten, raped and stabbed to death. There’d been no mercy or dignity in what they had endured before death set them free.

Her eyelids stung. Balling her fists, she parted her lips and forced air into her lungs.

The next group of pictures centered on the upscale building on Ocean Drive in Miami where the models had had apartments. With the Novak sofa and chair and the Milan coffee tables in the living room, Gena’s apartment was a study in soothing blues and hardwood floors. Vanessa was certain that it had been designed and decorated by a professional.

One or more of a very different kind of professional had destroyed Gena’s apartment, too. The sofa and all the chairs in the place had been cut with a knife and viciously ripped to shreds. Someone had even taken the seats and backs off the chairs and ripped the carpet with razors. The kitchen was a mess of broken glass and china. Silverware littered the floor. Nothing in the apartment remained intact.

“They certainly found what they were looking for,” Mackenzie said roughly, breaking the stark silence.

Renee flicked her remote ahead to a picture of a clear glass container that had been glued together. The label on the front read Caribbean Mama Spice Mix.

“I imagine that this jar never held the kind of spice that goes on food,” Renee remarked dryly. “The lab analyzed the pieces of glass that formed this container and found they were coated with cocaine. It seems likely that the girls transported the cocaine into the country in spice jars like this. It’s probably not the only type of product container used. Judging by the way their apartments and belongings were searched and destroyed, the Miami Field Division, MFD, thinks the girls may have messed up the delivery somehow and gotten themselves killed. The girls had just returned from a trip to the Bahamas. They cruised regularly on yachts owned by people high up in the fashion and music industries. MFD’s not sure which boat they were on, because all their friends and associates have suddenly developed acute cases of amnesia.”

Vanessa’s throat tightened. If she’d stayed in modeling and continued everything she’d been doing, she could have been one of the victims. “So who are we after?”

As Renee clicked a new picture onto the screen, Cody spoke. “We’re after a ring headed or financed by someone in the upper echelons of society or highly placed in Miami business or in the music industry. We have more than one suspect.” He pointed to the picture on the screen. “This is Hector Guerra. He came up from the streets of Miami with a past that includes the Street Killers and 114th Avenue Boys. His club and hip-hop clothing lines have made him popular. The models attended several of his parties. His clothing lines could provide an excellent cover for transporting drugs.”

Vanessa studied the photo of the tall, lean, Latino man. Hooded brows and beautifully shaped lips dominated his golden-skinned face. He was one of the designers her sister, Michelle, adored and the type of man that would have attracted Gena.

Taye Rollins, also known as Hot T, was the man in the next photo. Renee explained that the hip-hop artist, record producer and clothing designer had come up from the Street Killers gang of Miami, and now employed former gang members, and sponsored and produced artists coming out of Miami street gangs. He’d also been spotted at several events with an entourage that included both of the models.

Vanessa owned several of Taye’s CDs. His compositions were edgy, sexy and innovative. With skin the color of warm milk chocolate, he was attractive and had a smile that pulled at something deep inside her. Could the man be that provocative in person? She doubted it.

In the next photo, Caulfield Carouthers was blond with piercing, gray eyes. Vanessa knew the publishing heir through his snobby sister, Lindy, who’d gone to high school with her. According to the file, his lifestyle and gambling habit had negatively affected his publishing empire. He hung out with people in the fast lane and had been seen with several of the other suspects. He’d also had an affair with Bianca a couple of years ago.

Vanessa was surprised when a photo of dark-haired, heavyset, pugnacious-faced movie producer Benton Lansing appeared on the screen. According to Mackenzie, Benton hung out and partied with Taye and the other suspects. His last two movies had flopped and he was trying to get funding for another. He could be trying to finance his next picture with drug money.

Last, but not least, was Garrett Sutter, the Sutter Distillery heir. Vanessa had met him and been present at a few society functions he’d also attended. He mostly kept to himself. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people had landed him on the DEA’s suspect list.

“So exactly what is my assignment?” Vanessa asked.

Renee placed the remote on the table. Calm and confident, she faced them directly. An inner fire lit her royal-blue eyes. “You’re to go to Miami with Agent Mackenzie. There, you will move into the condo complex on Ocean Drive and get to know the models on the party circuit. Find out what you can about Gena and Bianca’s activities. Your goal is to get a lead on this drug operation, work with Cody to identify its members, and get the evidence we need. Mackenzie will help photograph you and several other models for the swimsuit edition of Inside Sports.”

For the first time, Vanessa felt excited at the chance to grace the cover of Inside Sports. The assignment stoked her competitive streak. Her gaze darted to Renee. That the Governess and her contacts had managed such a coup was quite a bonus. The modeling career she’d tanked was returning with a bang.

“Agent Mackenzie, Vanessa, I know that you two have just met, but you were each considered the best we could find for this assignment. Mackenzie, your work with the DEA in Miami has been highly commended. You must also be proud to have placed your photos in various art and photography magazines.”

Mackenzie closed his briefing file. “Thank you. But now we’ve got a job to do.”

“I’d already planned to take two independent study classes in the upcoming term at school, but I’ll need at least a day to square things with my family,” Vanessa put in quickly, making a concerted effort to avoid the agent’s gaze. Still, she felt the weight of it and suppressed the impulse to explain. She didn’t owe him an explanation.

“A day or two is fine,” Renee informed them. “Vanessa, you’ll need to at least check in with Erin Branch at the MFD. Both your Inside Sports contract and the details on where you’ll be staying can be found in your file. Any questions?”

Mackenzie asked about the chain of command on and off the team.

Matter-of-factly Renee faced him. “This is a joint operation between the Gotham Roses and the DEA. You’re considered equals. Mackenzie’s supervisor at the MFD and I expect to be kept up to date on your progress. The MFD is available to provide you with any local help and backup you might need. Mackenzie, you’re still expected to follow DEA rules and procedures. We’ve already cleared your use of our technology and wardrobe for this assignment with your supervisor. Vanessa, you know our rules of operation. You’ll turn over your evidence to the MFD. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

Renee’s statements didn’t surprise Vanessa. She’d worked alone on the last assignment. All of the women in the club’s undercover organization were trained and capable of working alone. The wild card here was Cody Mackenzie. Would he make the assignment a breeze, or become a full-blown pain in the ass?

“If there’s nothing further, Alan’s got a few gadgets for you and Kristi’s worked up a wardrobe profile and several additions for both of you.” Standing, Renee shook their hands. “Good luck.”

Down the hall from the consultation room, Alan Burke was waiting for them in his lab. His eyes sparkled as he showed Vanessa a set of press-on nails decorated with an intricate swirling crystal design.

Thinking about the nail she’d broken while sparring with Jimmy, she suppressed a smile. Alan was good at customizing his gadgets to fit his customer’s personalities and lifestyles. When Alan showed her that parts of the detailed design on the nails were actually electronic bugs that could be peeled off and stuck on various surfaces, she nodded approvingly.

Vanessa also received a slim gold-colored cell phone that functioned as a Global Positioning System device, a speaker and recorder for the bugs from the fingernails, and a gadget for opening electronic locks and accessing computer systems. Cool.

Alan opened a slim jewelry box and drew out a fourteen-carat gold watch with a detailed antique rose design on the face. “Press the side button in firmly three times in succession, and Agent Mackenzie and your backup team will know that you need help. It’s your panic button. It sends out a homing signal, too, if you only press it twice.”

“I like it.” Vanessa fitted the delicate watch onto her wrist and snapped the clasp closed. “Thanks, Alan. For everything.”

Alan drew another box from his workbench and gave it to Mackenzie. “Your watch. It does everything Vanessa’s watch does.” The watch was a Movado. As Mackenzie put it on, Alan drew another package from the alcove on his desk. Mackenzie opened the next package to reveal a 35mm camera. He eyed Alan cautiously. “A camera?”

“A camera that enables you to see in any light. It’s got built-in night vision and a few extra buttons.” Alan showed him a row of small buttons on the back of the camera. “Hit number one and your subject gets a knockout mist. Make sure you’re within two feet. Hit number two, and it shoots a paralyzing dart.”

“And number three?” Mackenzie asked, his finger close to the button.

Alan’s expression held a dare. “Press that and count to three, throw the camera as hard as you can, and run like hell!”

“A grenade?” Mackenzie’s fingers moved far away from the row of buttons.

Alan grinned. “For all intents and purposes.”

Mackenzie stepped forward to carefully place the camera back on Alan’s workbench. “This thing is some piece of work.”

Alan lifted the camera from the table, handling it carelessly. Mackenzie and Vanessa shot him incredulous looks. “The camera is quite safe to use,” Alan informed them. “There’s a safety switch along the side here,” he said, fingered a sliding bar. “None of the extra features work until you take the safety off.”

Vanessa released a sigh of relief. “Do you have any other gadgets for Agent Mackenzie?”

Alan glanced back at Mackenzie. “Not at the moment, but I’d love the chance to whip something up just for him.”

Vanessa stared. Had Alan just made a pass at Mackenzie? Hostile elements colored Mackenzie’s expression as he met Alan’s gaze.

Damn, tough break for Alan. Vanessa had instinctively known that Mackenzie was straight. She cleared her throat. “Thanks again, Alan. We’d better see what Kristi’s got for us.”

Mackenzie thanked Alan. Then he and Vanessa made their exit. Outside the room, Mackenzie rolled his shoulders and said just under his breath, “Your Alan’s got a little sugar in his tank.”

Vanessa hated all the euphemisms used to describe men like Alan. Her gaze hardened. “If you mean he’s gay, yes, but he’s never tried to force it on anyone.”

“And how would you know?”

“We don’t just work together. Alan is a friend,” she said, steel creeping into her tone.

Acknowledging her statement with a nod of his head, Mackenzie fell quiet as they made their way to Kristi’s office.

Vanessa introduced the agent to Kristi—adding that she was Alan’s sister, in case Mackenzie planned to make any more comments about him—and they sat down.

Kristi opened a leather file and drew out a list and a set of color pictures. “For this assignment I selected items that go with the clothes you have, but I tried to pump you up a little more,” she told Vanessa. “You already have fabulous instincts when it comes to fashion. This time, you want to make more of a statement and get the right kind of attention.”

Vanessa liked clothes. It was one of the things that had made her enjoy modeling. She looked at the first designer outfit. It was a slinky, sexy white DooRi wrap dress. Vanessa flipped through the rest of the file, her smile growing. Kristi had included items from a number of her favorite designers, including bustier dresses and silk camisoles from Dolce & Gabbana, classic but sexy gowns from Versace, Vera Wang, Valentino couture, Prada, Manolo Blahnik, and Jimmy Choo. Just about ready to swoon with satisfaction, she turned to Kristi.

“Thanks, I love this wardrobe!”

“I thought you would.” Kristi beamed back at her, something just short of envy in her eyes. She loved clothes just as much as Vanessa did. Sometimes the two of them went to fashion shows together.

Drawing another folder from the leather file, Kristi handed it to Mackenzie. “Agent Mackenzie, as the photographer on this project, your wardrobe makes much less of a statement. I’ve been told that you prefer casual wear. Therefore, I’ve put together a wardrobe centered on relaxed easy wear by Sean John and Fubu. For dress, I added a couple of Ralph Lauren suits, and a tuxedo from his Mister shop. For shoes, Nike Air Force Ones, Johnston & Murphy slip-ons, and Prada dress shoes. What do you think?”

“Fine by me.”

“I like the colors you chose for Agent Mackenzie,” Vanessa added. “They highlight his skin tone.”

Mackenzie looked at Vanessa with thinly veiled surprise, or perhaps annoyance. She had a feeling he didn’t appreciate her input on his wardrobe. She met his gaze squarely, intuitively aware that working with him meant she’d have to earn his respect and fight for equal footing.

But first, she’d have to loosen him up.