by Lisa Weaver
Later they made love again under the canopy of stars, with just the balmy evening air for a blanket.
Lulled by the soft whispering of the waves and a full stomach, she lay in the shelter of his arms and slept.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Frank woke her just as dawn was breaking, and they made the return trip to Damon’s estate.
Back at the guesthouse, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as they walked past. Her hair was windswept and her skin had been kissed by the sun, but the glow she wore had nothing to do with the elements.
It was the glow of a woman in love. The glow of a woman whose dreams had come true.
But Frank had made it clear that he wasn’t in this for the long haul, so she needed to keep her heart in check.
There was something else she needed to do—she had to tell him the truth about why she’d allowed him to tag along on her assignment. It was time to be honest with him. The fantasy she was living was only temporary, but if she didn’t want it to come tumbling down prematurely she had to tell him what Liz had asked her to do.
Summoning her courage, she decided there was no time like the present. “There’s something I need to tell you. I was going to talk to you about it earlier, before you sprung the kayaking adventure on me and I got … distracted. I didn’t want to spoil things last night by bringing it up, but it can’t wait any longer.”
He raised an eyebrow at her proclamation. “Sounds serious. Go on. I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t completely honest with you about my motivation for agreeing to let you come along on this trip. Actually, the reason I agreed to loop you in on this mission is because Liz asked me to. She told me there was a second shooter on the scene the night of the ambush. She was concerned you might be the target of a separate attack, and she was worried you weren’t taking the possibility you could be in danger seriously. She thought having you spend time here, on Damon’s island where security isn’t an issue, would be a good way to get you away from the thick of the action for a while.”
He cursed softly under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe Liz took it upon herself to do that. I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me. I’m a former CIA operative. I can take care of myself. The reason I didn’t tell you about the other shooter is because I wanted to keep you out of this mess, not drag you into it. She shouldn’t have meddled like that.”
“Liz wasn’t meddling. She was concerned about you. You’re recovering from a serious bullet wound, and you’re not supposed to fire a weapon until your shoulder heals. You’ve brushed off the threat as insignificant when there’s every possibility it’s anything but that. I’m here to help, but I’m sorry for not being up front with you. Do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do,” he sighed. “I’m not angry with you. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, but I understand why you did what you did.”
“I’m glad,” she told him with a grateful smile. “So what’s next?”
“After you hack into Damon’s computer files tonight to retrieve a copy of his client list, I’ll review it to see if there are any names that stand out. Hopefully we’ll find a thread that will lead us down a more productive path.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
After a busy day putting the finishing touches on the library project, Stephanie headed back to the guesthouse to get ready for Damon’s dinner party. Guests had begun arriving by ferry, and there was a flurry of activity around the mansion.
When she emerged from her bedroom, having changed into the lovely gown Larissa had chosen for her, Frank was just shrugging into his tuxedo jacket. He was so strikingly handsome she just stood and stared for a moment. But she couldn’t let the attraction she felt for him blur her focus. She needed to be on top of her game.
Remember the task at hand, she silently scolded herself. Less drooling, more action.
Catching sight of her, Frank whistled in appreciation. A tiny part of her had hoped the dress would knock his socks off—if the expression on his face was any indication, it had.
“You look stunning,” he raved, gathering her into his arms. “I think we should just stay in tonight and skip the dinner altogether. I want to keep you all to myself.”
Her cheeks flushed as she glimpsed the passion burning in his gaze. “That sounds far more interesting than dinner with a bunch of dignitaries I don’t know, but I have a job to do tonight, remember?”
“I wish I could handle this for you, but hacking isn’t my strong suit.”
“Don’t look so worried. Everything is going to be fine. I’ve done this before. There’s nothing to it.”
“Your idea of fine and mine are two entirely different concepts. Fine, in my book, is keeping you a thousand miles away from Damon Landers.”
“Coddle alert,” she warned, teasingly. “Let’s go. It’s time to party.”
Damon’s events drew the crème de la crème of the rich and famous. The theme of the meal was Italian, and the chef had outdone himself. He serving up a zesty panzanella salad along with delectable main dishes of spaghetti carbonara, and mushroom-and-spinach lasagna. Dessert was a rich zuppa inglese.
When after-dinner coffee and drinks were served, Stephanie excused herself, pleading a headache.
Frank rose from his chair when she stood up from the table, carrying out his part in the plan they’d orchestrated. “I’ll walk you back to the guesthouse.”
“There’s no need,” she smiled, waving off his concern. “I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a while. Stay and enjoy your coffee.”
After thanking Damon for his hospitality and wishing him and his guests a good night, she departed the dining room. She headed in the direction of the guesthouse, but as soon as she was satisfied that Damon’s staff were too busy seeing to the needs of his guests to pay any attention to what she was doing, she made a beeline for his study.
The door was locked, but she quickly picked her way into the room. Leaving the lights off so as not to attract attention, she booted up his laptop and began hacking into the system. Locating his client list, she downloaded the document onto a jump drive and stashed it in her purse before shutting the computer down.
Easy peasy. Maybe too easy.
Her classmates at the training academy teased her about her ability to sense squirrely situations before anyone else in the class, jokingly referring to it as her “Spidey sense.” That mysterious intuition had just roared into overdrive. Something definitely was off.
Seconds later the echo of footsteps sounded in the hall, confirming her suspicion. She carefully closed the laptop and backed up, flat against the wall. There was another door on the wall, but she tried it and found it was locked. She decided if the footsteps came any closer she’d exit through the window.
Suddenly, the door behind her opened and a figure shrouded in darkness grabbed her. His hand covered her mouth, muffling her surprised cry. Struggling against the arms wrapped like steel bands around her upper body, she tried to kick out at her captor, but he blocked the blow and dragged her into the next room.
“Going on a treasure hunt?” he asked, his deep voice laced with sardonic amusement.
She knew that voice. Damon.
Chapter Fourteen
With the click of a switch, the room was instantly bathed in soft light and Stephanie’s assumption that Damon had been the one to whisk her out of the office was confirmed. She found herself standing in the middle of his bedroom suite, frozen in shock.
“Ssh. It’s okay,” he murmured reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth, but don’t even think about screaming. It could cost us both our necks if you do.”
Damon had caught her with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar, but he didn’t sound surprised or angry. He addressed her in a tone of voice that was gently soothing. Slipping his hand away, he released his hold on her.
“I … what …”
she began, stammering in confusion.
Placing a finger against his lips, Damon shook his head. “I need to go and make an excuse for why the silent alarm was tripped,” he whispered as the sound of voices coming from his office filtered out to them. He stepped away from her, meeting her gaze with calm assuredness. “Stay here, and I’ll be back in a moment to explain. Whatever you do, don’t leave this room.”
When Damon stepped out of the suite, she pressed her ear up to the connecting door. She could hear him talking to his men, explaining that he’d gone to his office to collect a brochure for one of his guests and in his haste had forgotten to key in the security code. To her immense relief, they bought the excuse, ribbing him about his oversight.
True to his word, Damon reappeared a few moments later. “I’m sorry I pounced on you like that. I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of my office before my security team found you in there. If they had, they would have expected me to deal with you. I know why you’re here—it has nothing to do with books.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she refuted.
“That’s a very convincing denial,” he murmured. “Sentinels has trained you well. You can relax, though. We’re on the same side.”
She arched an eyebrow, regarding him skeptically. “Care to elaborate?”
Loosening his tie, he shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I’m with the DEA. So is Vanessa. We’ve been undercover for the past two years, working our way up the seniority chain in Ivan Henderson’s organization. He’s involved in the Mafia, and we’re building a case against him.” He held his thumb and index fingers a hair’s breadth from each other. “We’re this close to bringing him down. If my men had caught you breaking into my office, I would have had to take action. As one of Henderson’s associates, they expect me to make any threats to his business dealings … disappear. You understand what I’m getting at, right?”
She nodded grimly.
“Earlier this week, they discovered my office’s computer system had been compromised. Tracking software indicated the breach came from this IP address, so they installed a silent alarm to alert them if another attempt was made. The alarm is triggered anytime someone enters my office.”
“I didn’t see a keypad for a security system.”
“You wouldn’t have. It’s hidden under the painting just outside the door. When I saw you leave the dinner table, I had a good idea what you were up to. Before I could make an excuse and break away from my guests to follow you, you’d already broken into my office. I keyed the disarm code in as soon as I got here, but unfortunately my security team had already been alerted.”
“How did you figure out I’m an operative?”
“It wasn’t much of a stretch. When Frank started probing around in my business a couple of years ago, naturally I looked into him. I discovered he worked for the CIA. I was aware he’d moved on from there to Sentinels, so it wasn’t hard to connect the dots and deduce you were working with them as well.
“Because of my association with Henderson, Frank’s investigation was bound to lead to me eventually. Frank didn’t find any improper dealings when he came poking around my organization because there are none. I’ve been running a legitimate business while leading Henderson to believe I’m laundering his money.”
“But you have been building a seedy reputation.”
“Yes. Deception quite often goes along with the territory working undercover. You understand, I know, that we have to paint the picture people expect to see.”
“Frank thinks you can lead him to the man who’s responsible for his partner’s death. Is it Henderson?”
“No. Henderson is just the middleman.”
“It sounds like you know who the ringleader is,” she ventured.
“I do.”
“Who is it?” she demanded.
“It’s the same man you’ve been searching for—the man your boss assigned you to try and track down through me—Lawrence Mendacci. And believe me, if I could point you to him, I would in a heartbeat. We want him, too. Mendacci has been on the radar of every major law enforcement agency in the country for years for his reputed connection to the Greek Mafia, but no one has been able to pin anything on him and make it stick. Mendacci is a hundred times more influential than Henderson, which makes him all the more dangerous.”
“The man’s a ghost,” Stephanie blurted in frustration.
“Yes, but I have a hunch Henderson might be the key to making him visible. When we bring him in, we’ll focus on extracting information from him as to Mendacci’s whereabouts.”
“You seem pretty confident you can pull this off. What makes you think you can succeed where everyone else has failed?”
“The reason Henderson has proven so difficult to ensnare is that, like Lawrence Mendacci, he trusts no one. Not even those who have proven their loyalty to him time and time again. Vanessa and I are the exception. We’ve gotten close. Close enough to have gathered enough evidence against him to put him behind bars for life.
“Even uglier than his drug ring, Henderson reigns over a human trafficking operation. Vanessa and I have sacrificed two years of our lives infiltrating his operation, and we have a plan in motion to capture him. We’re determined to put an end to his illicit dealings.
“I have a proposition for you. You help us get the poison he’s peddling off the streets, and we’ll help you with your search for Mendacci. What do you say?”
She’d had ample opportunity to study human nature as a researcher for Sentinels, and when it came to accessing character, she was confident her radar was in full working order. Damon wasn’t setting off her weasel alarm. He seemed sincere, and her instincts told her he was telling the truth. The angry leap of the pulse at his jaw when he spoke of the atrocities Henderson had committed couldn’t be faked.
She’d bet her favorite pair of Louboutins that Damon was one of the good guys.
“Deal,” she agreed.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Frank wasn’t sure what he’d find when he went in search of Stephanie, but seeing her exiting Damon’s bedroom hadn’t featured in any of the scenarios he’d imagined.
When Damon had excused himself to take a phone call shortly after Stephanie left the dinner table, he’d realized something was up and he’d gone to warn her. Frustratingly, one of Damon’s guests stopped him as he was leaving the dining room, delaying him. Once waylaid, he couldn’t get away from the man without calling attention to himself.
Stephanie turned in his direction as he was charging down the hallway toward her, locking gazes with him. He saw a dozen different emotions flash across her face. Surprise. Relief.
Regret.
“Frank!” she exclaimed.
His eyes narrowed, his stomach tightening in anger.
If Landers laid one finger on her, I’ll rip the bastard’s heart from his chest.
“What happened?” he ground out.
“It’s not what you think,” she rushed to assure him.
“Then care to explain what you were doing in Landers’s bedroom?”
“He took me there to hide me from his security team. He’s on our side, Frank. He’s not the enemy.”
The angry stampede of his pulse slowed as he absorbed her words.
“Landers is actually one of the good guys.” She rushed on. “Vanessa is working with him. They’re both DEA. They’ve inserted themselves into the organization of a mobster, Ivan Henderson. Henderson is an associate of Lawrence Mendacci. Damon says Mendacci is behind everything.”
“And you believe him? This could all be an elaborate story he’s spun to gain your trust.”
“Holy cow! You and your conspiracy theories.”
“I’m simply listening to the voice of reason. It’s going to take a lot more than some story Landers has concocted to convince me he is what he says he is. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I’m putting a stop to this. Right now.”
“Where are you going?”
Stephanie was hot on his heels as he stormed into the man’s room.
“I’m sorry, Damon,” she blurted. “I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s okay, he should hear it from me,” he told her matter-of-factly before turning his attention to Frank.
“Ireland,” he said, nodding at Frank. “I’ll answer any questions you have because, whether you choose to believe it or not, I really am on your side here.”
“That’s what Steph said,” Frank ground out, balling his hands into fists at his sides.
“She’s a smart woman. You should listen to her. We’ll talk, but not here. There are too many eyes and ears kicking around the mansion. I can’t risk someone overhearing us and reporting back to Henderson. Steph, could you go and grab the copy of Treasure Island I just purchased and bring it to us? We’ll be in the stables.”
“You can go,” Frank told her when she hesitated, apparently not convinced he wouldn’t tear Damon limb from limb as soon as she turned her back. “I won’t hurt him. At least not until I’ve heard what he has to say.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
When they arrived at the stables, Frank gave Damon the floor.
“Go ahead. Talk. Tell me why I should believe your story.”
“Vanessa and I are working undercover for the DEA. We’ve gathered enough evidence against our target, Ivan Henderson, to prove he’s behind a huge chunk of the drugs streaming into New York. In the course of our investigation, we’ve also discovered Henderson is behind the disappearance of hundreds of young girls who were assumed to be runaways. Those teens haven’t been disappearing of their own volition. They’re being kidnapped and forced into sex slavery. We’re going to bring him down for that.”
Frank’s jaw clenched at the thought of the ugliness behind such a gruesome trade. “Do you have a plan for how you’re going to make that happen?”
“Henderson is just as elusive as Lawrence Mendacci. Vanessa and I are among his most trusted associates, but even we don’t know where he hangs his hat. What we do know is that he has a weakness. He has a thing for Impressionist artwork. He’s told Vanessa about his latest acquisition, a painting his mistress will be inspecting and picking up on his behalf tonight from a gallery in Manhattan. We’ve arranged for a tracking device to be placed in the painting’s frame that will lead us to him.”