Hidden Sins

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Hidden Sins Page 28

by Selena Montgomery


  Gritting his teeth, Ethan muttered, “Hello.”

  “I have a present for Davis, and I’m sure you know he absolutely despises it when others touch his playthings.” As she spoke she caught Harold’s sweaty palm and drew their hands up to her chin. The motion brought him closer, and his Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. “Wand Ethan, Harold, and I promise you won’t find anything amiss. When you finish with him, you can do me.”

  “O-Okay.” When he agreed, Mara dropped his hand, which gratefully grazed a breast. Emboldened, he gripped the wand that rested in his utility belt and approached Ethan. He ignored the man’s greater height and forced steel into his tenor. “Spread your legs, sir.”

  After a thorough, nearly obscene wanding of both Mara and Ethan, Harold admitted them to the bank of elevators. With a swipe of his security card, he released the elevator to travel to the top floor. Flushed, he stammered out instructions. “I’ll let Mr. Conroy’s staff know you’re on your way.”

  Feeling generous, Mara planted a feathery kiss on his mottled cheek. “You’ve been a doll, Harold. I’ll tell Davis how lovely.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He stumbled out of the elevator. “Enjoy your visit.”

  The metal and glass doors slid shut and Ethan grinned. “Mara Reed, femme fatale. Who’d of guessed?”

  Mara merely smiled. Then she turned grim. In a matter of minutes their lives would change. Forever. She was prepared, but Ethan wasn’t her kind. “It’s not too late, Ethan. We have other options.”

  “I’m fine, Mara. I can handle this if you can.” He reached for her hand, linking them. “I wanted adventure and excitement. Now I want what’s mine.” With a shrug, he added, “He’ll make his own choice.”

  Soon, the elevator buzzed and the car stopped. The doors opened and he released her.

  She alighted from it and walked past the two men standing sentry. Ethan joined her, balancing the trolley. “Armed escorts?” Mara held her hands aloft. “Take me to your leader.”

  “You’re not funny, bitch.” Behind her, Rabbe strolled into the marble lobby, feet echoing on the tiles. “Mr. Conroy won’t be amused by you.”

  “You’re such a killjoy, Arthur.” She lowered her hands and folded them at her waist, resisting the urge to leap forward and claw at his smug face. Adrenaline began to flow. Yes, this was her turf. “Where’s your smarter, less savage half?”

  Rabbe frowned at the insult. “I’m gonna enjoy doing you,” he announced, advancing on her. Before he could wrap his hands around her throat, Ethan was between them.

  He covered one fist with his own and contracted his grip. He stopped Rabbe’s attempted jab and neatly twisted his hand, yanking the thug’s arm high behind his back. Rabbe yelped in pain and the guards raised their guns. Ethan watched them calmly. “No need to shoot. I’m just giving your comrade a warning. Touch Mara and I’ll kill you.”

  “Didn’t know you were a fighter, Dr. Stuart.” Davis Conroy appeared, flanked by Seth and a slight middle-aged man who seemed on the verge of collapse. “Rabbe, once again, you disappoint me. Handled by a scientist. You’re a disgrace to your craft.”

  “Mr. Conroy—” The plaintive wail came as much from the vicious pain in his arm as the look Conroy gave the behemoths guarding the elevator. “I got them here, like you wanted.”

  Conroy sniffed. “I wanted what Dr. Stuart has brought to me. You gave me nothing.” He motioned to one of the guards, who seemed prepared for the signal. “Please escort Mr. Rabbe to his car. Personally.”

  Whimpering, Rabbe broke free of Ethan’s hold and tried to dash to the stairwell. The titan stepped into his path and caught him by the throat. “The parking garage is this way.”

  “Seth! Seth, help me!” Rabbe pleaded as he was bustled into the car. “Fuck you, Seth! Fuck you, Conroy!”

  The doors closed over his piteous threats, and Mara and Ethan exchanged a look. “Mr. Conroy, we brought the safe and the keys. We would like Dr. Baxter.”

  “Tut tut.” Conroy contemplated the duo and their gift to him. In the squat metal box between them, his destiny waited. He would accomplish what his father failed to do. But he would do so with dignity. And without witnesses. “I don’t conduct business in the hallway, Ms. Reed. Please, join me in my office. Our family connections warrant that, at least.”

  Mara and Ethan walked behind him, with Seth and the other man beside them. The office, if it could be termed such, ran along the entire phalanx of windows that faced the north. Deep crimson carpet gave beneath their feet, masking sound. “Seth, wait outside. Nigel, please have the safe set up on its table.”

  She watched intently as Nigel and the guard wheeled the safe to a pedestal. The lock faced the doorway, so the person opening it would have his back to the outer chamber. Pleased by the arrangement, Mara released a pent-up breath silently. So far, so good.

  A gracious host, Conroy made his way to the bar. “Drinks?”

  Ethan began to respond, but Mara cautioned him with a restrainng hand. “A glass of white wine would be lovely.”

  “And for you, Dr. Stuart?”

  “Scotch. Neat.”

  Conroy nodded approvingly. “Is there any other way?” He lifted a decanter and poured. “I admire what you’ve made of your life, Ethan. May I call you Ethan?”

  “Of course.”

  “From an orphan to a tenured professor. Quite renowned in your field. But I had no idea of your connection to Ms. Reed when I hired you. The turns of Fate.” He returned to where they stood and indicated a black leather sofa. “Please sit.”

  Ethan led Mara to the sofa, settling her on the end and placing himself between her and Conroy, who delivered their drinks with a flourish and took a high-backed chair across from them.

  “How gallant, Ethan. Protecting the woman you once loved. But I fear you misunderstand me. I simply wanted the safe and the keys to it.” Conroy smiled easily, and reclined against the supple leather. Having achieved his ends, magnanimity flowed. “Would you like to see the contents?”

  “I’d prefer to see that Lesley is unharmed,” Ethan countered smoothly. “Please.”

  The smile broadened. “Once I have the keys.”

  Mara smiled more broadly, a brittle counterpoint to the temper she tried to dampen. The smug, superior countenance ground on nerves already shredded with exhaustion. Beside her, Ethan had a death grip on his glass, so tight she feared it would shatter. Niceties done, she joined the conversation. “Mr. Conroy, we both know that’s not the way. Dr. Stuart is a novice here, but I am not. I learned at my grandfather’s knee. First you produce Dr. Baxter, then I hand you the keys. After the exchange, Lesley comes with us and you keep the safe and its contents. Deal?” She sipped from her glass and watched him over the rim.

  “My dossier on you did you precious little justice, Mara. From my research, I expected a cheap, blousy con artist who relied on questionable feminine wiles to fell her victims.”

  “And now?”

  “I dare say, you’re quite charming, if impertinent.” The smile faded, replaced by a steely stare. “This is not a negotiation, my dear. It is a surrender. You used my bodies to find my keys and my safe. The operative word here is my.” He rested a Waterford tumbler on one knee, the amber sloshing delicately at the sides. “Tell me, Ethan, how did you find the keys?”

  “I didn’t.” Ethan inclined his head toward Mara. “The bodies you uncovered were a start, but she was the one who figured out that the marks were coordinates. Reverend Reed was quite clever.”

  The scotch in Conroy’s glass sloshed higher. “The heist was my father’s idea,” he corrected bitterly. “Her grandfather appropriated his idea and turned the other men against him.”

  “Reese Conroy killed his partner and tried to kill my grandfather,” Mara protested before she caught herself.

  “A pity his shot missed. I understand that was your grandmother’s fault.”

  Ethan restrained her retort with a gentle squeeze of her leg. Conroy followed the movem
ent and the generous smile returned. “Glad to see that you’ve taught her to obey you this time around. I didn’t think you had the cojones, Doctor.”

  Because she could feel the tension in his grip, Mara spoke quickly. “Aren’t you eager to see your prize, Mr. Conroy?”

  “Davis.”

  “Davis,” she repeated in mock meekness. “After seventy years, I admire your restraint. Millions in gold at your elbow, and you sit making idle chatter with a thief and a teacher. Interesting choice.”

  The urchin had a point, Conroy allowed. He’d waited a lifetime to avenge his father and to claim the treasure that should have been his at birth. He set the tumbler on a low table near his knee and stood. “Join me.”

  Ethan gained his feet and leaned in to assist Mara. In a whisper, he asked, “When is he coming?”

  “Soon,” she hissed. “Be patient. He likes to make an entrance.”

  “Ethan, Mara. My keys.” Conroy extended a callused hand. “Now, my dear.”

  Mara politely declined, placing the pouch behind her back. “Lesley, first. I insist.”

  Aware that their combined fates had been sealed when they learned of his existence, Conroy felt charitable. He depressed the intercom once. “Nigel, please bring Dr. Baxter in.”

  Seconds later Nigel escorted Lesley into the room. She entered, head high, lip swollen from Conroy’s ring. The creamy skin had grown wan, accenting the livid red mark near her mouth. “I told you, I won’t help you find them,” she began as soon as she entered the office. “I hope—”

  “Lesley.” Ethan cut off the tirade with a single word.

  On a sob, she rushed over to him, into his embrace. “I didn’t tell him anything!”

  He wrapped her against him, and pressing her head into his shoulder, stroked the mass of dark hair tenderly. “We came to him. To get you.”

  Lesley lifted her head, eyes bright. “Mara?”

  “Millions in gold for your safe return. Seemed a fair trade.” Mara shrugged. “One good turn, and all that.”

  Conroy cleared his throat. “Touching reunion, but I’m a bit anxious to fulfill my destiny here. So, the keys?” He reached out for the pouch, and a second time Mara demurred.

  Time was passing quickly and the most important part of their plan hadn’t arrived. To buy time, she asked, “May I see your key, Mr. Conroy? Out of curiosity.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Conroy considered her request. With the guards posted outside and Nigel standing watch, the opportunity for ambush was nonexistent. He could indulge a lovely woman for a moment longer. “Certainly.” He snapped his fingers once, and Nigel scurried to the desk on the far side of the room.

  The velvet box was presented with an obsequious flourish that had Mara mortified on the man’s behalf. She passed the leather pouch to Ethan and accepted the box. Opening it, she saw a key identical to the three she and Ethan had discovered. On its base, more Greek script had been engraved: . Mara skimmed her stunned eyes over the text a second time, verifying her translation. “Have you had the inscription translated?”

  “Of course. It says ‘deliver.’ The Greek word paradidomi.” Conroy ran a quick hand over the surface of the safe. “Apropos, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Mara returned the key to his waiting grasp. “Absolutely.” Out of excuses, she retrieved the pouch from Ethan. “These are yours, I believe.”

  Used to obeisance from his staff, Conroy didn’t question her capitulation. He took the pouch and emptied the contents onto the safe, where it perched on the marble pedestal he’d purchased for the occasion. Curious, he searched the other handles for engravings. “Did you translate these, Mara?”

  Praying he could not read the language, she replied, “It’s a phrase. ‘Unto us, deliver all.’ All four keys must be read together. In order.” She caught a movement in the hallway, heard a muffled pop that was music to her ears. “Do you need any help?”

  At the offer, Conroy whipped his head around.

  “This is mine, Ms. Reed. Do not interrupt.” Nigel stood behind him, blocking his view of the exterior room.

  Mara sidled away from Lesley and Ethan, motioning them to remain still. Conroy inserted the first key. Her grandfather’s key. The tumbler fell.

  Hands sweaty, he reached for the second key and it slipped to the carpet. Mara checked the hallway, where another guard slid bonelessly to the marble. She rushed forward to help. “Allow me,” she offered.

  Nigel shooed her away, and Mara nimbly blocked his view of the outside. “I’ve got it, Ms. Reed. Please move.”

  Heart racing, she returned to her position. The second key, Poncho’s key, turned easily in the lock. Her cue.

  Opening her mouth, she released a bloodcurdling scream. Startled, Conroy spun around, only to find himself receiving a sharp, deliberate blow from Ethan’s fist. The older man swayed tipsily. “Nigel?”

  Lesley dove into action, ramming the manservant in the midsection with her shoulder. The impact sent them both rolling across the carpet. Mara leapt over the tumbled bodies and aimed for the door. The burly guard had finally processed the commotion and, with a muted roar, he charged. Like a bull moose he ambled forward faster than she would have imagined, but years of practice had her diving between his parted legs. Before he could turn, she jackknifed up and aimed high. He fell like an oak. “Lesley! Ethan! Come on!”

  The glass doors swung open and Sebastian waved them forward. “Hey, gorgeous. Get a move on.”

  Mara flashed a grin and skidded to a stop at his side. Lesley ran past, with Ethan dead on her heels. As the two exited the room, Mara slammed the doors shut. They crowded into the elevator Sebastian had waiting and plummeted fifty floors.

  When they reached the ground floor, the quartet raced past a bemused Harold, who watched openmouthed. Mara hung back and grabbed his arm. “Harold, do me a favor!”

  “Sure,” he stammered. “Mara.”

  “I need you to call Mr. Conroy and tell him to not open the safe. Tell him it’s rigged to explode. Then I want you to take this and run.” She pressed two coins into his cold palm. “This is real gold, Harold. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

  Eyes wider than the coins, Harold hurried to his post. A groggy Nigel answered the phone on the first ring. “Where are they?” he demanded.

  “Gone.” Harold started to apologize, but realized he wouldn’t be an employee much longer. “Ms. Reed told me to give you a message. She said to not open the safe. That it was rigged.”

  In the suite, Nigel turned to his boss. “Mr. Conroy, no!” The older man jammed his father’s key into the slot and turned it hard.

  Nigel waited anxiously for an explosion, but nothing happened. Laughing wildly, Conroy inserted the final key and lifted the lever.

  Until he died, Nigel would recall the spray of acid and the agonizing screams that reverberated through the office. Flesh melted like wax, burning the carpet and the floor beneath. Conroy collapsed, cursing his father and Mara Reed.

  In the sleek Mercedes that Sebastian drove, Mara sank into the seat and shut her eyes wearily. “Another second and we’d have been goners, Caine.”

  “I like to make an entrance, darling.” Sebastian winked at her in the rearview mirror, and catching Ethan’s dark look, added, “I’m always pleased to save your pretty ass in the nick of time.”

  Lesley twisted on the front seat to examine Mara and Ethan. “What happened? Was that really the safe? Did you actually exchange millions in gold for my safety?”

  Mara lifted one heavy eyelid. “Not exactly.”

  “What then, exactly?” huffed Lesley. “Was I in danger?”

  Ethan answered before Mara could respond. “Mara figured out the key sequence when we found the safe. We removed the gold and the artifacts and gave them to Sebastian for safekeeping. Then he drove us to Chi Development. He had instructions to deliver the gold if our plan didn’t work.”

  “Which was?”

  Mara kept her eyes shut but explained. “My grandfather didn’t
trust Reese, or anyone else for that matter. So he had Bailey rig the safe to spew acid if it was opened the wrong way. After we opened it, I realized Conroy had no way of knowing that it only required three keys.”

  “And if you were wrong?”

  “I wasn’t. I knew it as soon as I read his key.” Mara peeled open her eyes to meet Ethan’s. “He was right about the word but wrong about the translation. Paradidomi means deliver up, yes. However, in John 12, the Greeks use the word in reference to Judas. To mean betray—or to deliver up to the authorities.”

  “Incredible.” Lesley gave Mara an appreciative tap on the knee. “Very clever, Mara. Very clever.”

  But Mara heard nothing, sliding into sleep.

  Chapter 24

  “Time to go, Mara.” Ethan jostled her lightly. “Wake up.”

  “Where are we?” She snuggled deeper into the warmth beneath her cheek, abruptly realizing her pillow was his thigh. Nearly alert, she sat up and looked around. The car had stopped in front of the Austin Ritz Carlton. “Sebastian’s choice, I take it.”

  Ethan nodded. “He and Lesley have already gone inside to check in. And you need an actual bed.” Moving swiftly, he bundled her out of the car and steered her to the foyer.

  “Mmm-kay.” She trailed behind him, admiring the tuck and curve of denim as he booked their room. Still caught between sleep and waking, she didn’t comment when he received one key and passed it to the steward.

  The hotel room, in comparison to their earlier accommodations, was palatial. But Mara could only focus on the king-sized bed that consumed the space. She fidgeted uneasily as Ethan tipped the bellhop.

  Seeing her discomfiture, Ethan sighed. “I can call him back. Get you your own room.”

  “No. No. This is fine.” She scrubbed her hands over her eyes and blinked owlishly. “This is fine.” Except she had no idea how to play the coming moments. Ethan stood near the window, framed by a setting sun. Instead of exhausted and worn-out, he was stunning and handsome and perfect. Everything she had ever searched for. It should have amused her, she thought sullenly, that a woman with a thousand roles to her credit couldn’t figure out how to tell the man she loved that she wanted to be with him. Only him. “Shall we see what Sebastian and Lesley want to do for dinner?”

 

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