“What does Godfrey do here?” Cain asked, releasing her without lowering the weapon.
She backed away to a counter and rubbed her hands over her arms. “I don’t know.”
He couldn’t discern if she was lying. “When was the last time he was here?”
She shivered. “A month ago.”
“And before that?”
“Two months.”
“Does he come every month?”
“Only since six months.”
“What about before the six months? When was the last time he came before then?”
“A long time ago.” She looked to the side, resting her chin on her shoulder. “Before his son was killed.”
“Nicolas?”
She looked back at him quickly. “You know about Nicolas?”
“I know Godfrey kept him hidden until he worked with your son, Adam, in a different lab in Costa Rica.”
Agony filled her eyes. “Godfrey told me a woman killed my son.”
“Adam was shot by a federal agent, but I do believe he sacrificed his life to save a woman.”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. I’m not naïve. I know what my son was and it wasn’t a good person. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss him every day of my life.”
“I’m sure you do.” He closed the distance, but resisted the urge to take her in his arms and soothe her. “Is this where Nicolas worked?”
“Yes. He was a sweet boy.”
“Until Godfrey took him to Costa Rica?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know what he worked on?”
“I didn’t want to know.”
“Did you keep the six cells here?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Is that why Godfrey came last month, to collect the cells?”
“I don’t know.”
He was standing too close. He could smell her perfume and feel the heat radiating from her skin. “Why did you marry him?”
“What?” She frowned. “Why the personal question?”
“Humor me. I’d really like to know.”
A soft sigh escaped her lips. “My first husband died the year before I met Godfrey and things were hard for me and Adam. Adam never got over the car accident.” She rubbed her arms again. “He was in the car, you see. One day, as we exited the therapist after a particularly difficult session, Adam ran away from me. He crossed a busy street and nearly got hit by a car. The driver stopped just in time. He was very kind and understanding. Seeing how shocked we were, he insisted on driving us home. He asked for my number to call and check on Adam the next day. He said he felt terrible for almost running him over. He called and visited. Adam took to him immediately.” Her eyes took on a far-off expression. “Godfrey was sweet. He was good to us. When he proposed, I didn’t hesitate.”
“Do you love him?”
She gave him a cold look. “Why do you ask?”
“I need to know how far you’re willing to go for him.”
She didn’t reply.
He dragged a finger over the dust-free surface of the counter. “If nobody is working here, then why has the place been cleaned?”
“I like things tidy.”
“Yes.” He lowered the gun and closed the remaining steps between them. “You do.” Soon, things were going to turn messy for both of them. A lot messier than last night.
He walked around the room, opening and closing cabinet doors, but everything was empty. Godfrey had left no evidence of his latest work behind, if he’d ever done any of it here.
A tremble crept into her voice. “Can we go now? I don’t like it down here.”
He motioned at the door. “After you.”
Her step was regal, but turmoil followed in her wake. The sensation reached him before disappearing behind that wall she’d constructed around her mind.
They passed both doors and went up the stairs.
“Give me your wrist pad,” he instructed.
She gave him a startled look. “How do you know I have one?”
“Stop stalling. Bring it here. Now.”
“It won’t help you. It’s a one-way device.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
With a small sigh, she pulled open a hidden drawer under the coffee table and handed it to him.
He made quick work of inspecting it. It would be tracked, for sure. There would be security devices. If he tampered with it, Godfrey would know. Olivia had been right. It was useless to him. It couldn’t be used to trace her husband. He held it out to her. She took the instrument wordlessly, and turned on her heel.
He followed her all the way to the kitchen where she surprised him by asking, “Will you stay for coffee?”
He had to get back to the base. “Not this time.”
Her face fell. She looked lost and vulnerable. “I understand.”
It took him two seconds to change his mind. “Maybe just a quick one.”
She brewed a pot of strong Brazilian coffee and served it in the lounge. When he took a seat on the sofa, she sat down next to him and drew her legs up under her.
“Do you watch me all the time?”
“Only at night.”
“Are you married?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Watching you the way I do. Touching you the way I did.”
“Were you married?”
“Yes.”
“Divorced?”
“Widower.”
“Did you love her?”
“Very much.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Children?”
“A daughter.”
“What’s her name?”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you close?”
“We are now. It wasn’t always so.”
When he downed his coffee and left his mug on the table, a panicked look filtered into her eyes. “Are you coming back?”
He brushed a curl behind her ear. “When is Godfrey due back here?”
“I don’t know exactly. Soon.”
He believed her. “Then the answer is yes. I’ll be back.”
“Whatever you’re chasing, you shouldn’t. You don’t know the kind of man he is.”
“I believe I do. Do you?”
She looked away.
He gripped her chin and turned her face back to him. “You’re going to help me find him.”
“Or else?”
“You don’t want to know the answer.”
She pulled free and got to her feet. “Exactly how far are you willing to go?”
He stood, towering over her. “As far as it takes.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“You should be afraid of many things other than that.”
“You have no idea,” she whispered.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She answered without hesitation. “Yes.”
“You should be.” He walked to the door and turned. “Thanks for the coffee. Oh, and Olivia, don’t get it into your head to run.” There was no humor in his smile. “There’s no place I won’t find you.”
The threat hung idly in the air as he left her house.
Some of the team members, including Alice and Ivan, were having dinner on the terrace by the pool when he arrived at the base.
He walked around the table and placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Good.” She tilted her head up to offer him a smile. “Starving all the time.”
A shadow skittered over Ivan’s face. “Eve says the baby takes a lot from her.”
“Would you like something to eat, Dad?” Alice pushed back her chair.
“Don’t let me disrupt your dinner. I have work to take care of, first. I’ll grab something later.”
In the entrance, he ran into Eve.
“Nothing new,” she s
aid before he could ask. “I’m running tests every day. So far, Alice’s blood sugar and pressure are normal. The seven cells release a substance that seems to aid with skin elasticity, or else her organs might have torn from the quick growth. The only side-effect is the strain the quick pregnancy is putting on her body, but she’s coping well.”
“Good work.” He patted her shoulder and headed for the workroom.
Josselin, Maya, and Sky were there.
Josselin straightened from a 3D map when Cain entered. “There’s nothing to connect the murders. They’re happening too widely spread for one man to be responsible. To achieve this big a massacre, Godfrey needs cronies.”
“We’re thinking he could’ve recruited some Medusa fanatics,” Sky said.
Maya placed a hand on the curve of her stomach. “Tim said the first riot has erupted in New York. Medusa against paranormals. Government managed to intercept and kill the protest early.”
He wiped a hand over his face, tiredness seeping into his bones.
“What about Mrs. Reid?” Josselin asked. “Did you manage to get into the lab?”
He rolled his aching shoulders. “It’s empty. It’s the base from which Nicolas worked before Godfrey took him to his lab in Costa Rica, but he left no evidence behind. Apparently, he returns every month. He’s due in Rio soon.”
“Wow.” Maya’s look was admiring. “How did you get Mrs. Reid to talk? Torture?”
“I asked nicely.”
Maya snorted.
“This is another damn dead-end street,” Josselin retorted.
“You look tired,” Sky said. “Why don’t you have a rest? I’ll keep an eye on Mrs. Reid.”
He nodded gratefully. As much as he hated to admit it, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but to wait for Godfrey to show his face. And then there was the bigger nagging problem. How did one kill a man who couldn’t die?
The sea was a brilliant turquoise. A breeze stirred the hot air. Taxi boats transported people from beach to beach. Olivia stood on the outcrop at the edge of her garden and stared at the hidden cove and thumbnail-shaped beach below. Everything looked deceptively peaceful. Somewhere out there was her stalker, a man who wouldn’t hesitate to please or hurt her, depending on what his goal demanded. A man who watched her. Two of them could play this game. She had every intention of uncovering his identity. She needed to know who she was up against and put a stop to his untimely visits.
She walked from the one side of the garden to the end of the precipice and back, looking under every shrub and bush until she spotted the rope tied to a rock and hidden underneath some ivy. Leaning over the edge of the cliff, she surveyed the surroundings. The rope led all the way down to the beach. This was how he accessed her house. He had to have a boat, because the only way from the cove to the beaches on the other side was via sea.
She returned to the house, dressed in a bikini, grabbed a beach bag, and set out to the jetty on the Copacabana Beach where she kept the jet ski. It had been a while since she’d used it. The fuel tank was full. She took it out on the water to ensure the engine was good and drove it back to the cove. Protected from sight by the surrounding cliffs, it was easy to hide the jet ski on the water in a rocky part away from the sandy beach. She stopped on the shore to study the cliff. Even with the rope it was a tough climb to the top. Her stalker had to be in top shape. To come down, she’d need sturdy gloves and shoes with a grip. Pocketing the key to the jet ski carefully, she took the longer and exposed footpath that wound to the top and exited farther up the street. A short jog later, she was back at her property.
After showering and dressing in a strappy sundress, she met the women from the orphanage she donated money to for lunch. She didn’t dare meet them at the orphanage for the fear that Godfrey would discover their association. The chance of him hurting the children to manipulate her was too big. To be on the safe side, Olivia took a taxi and told the driver to go all the way into town before turning back to the Ipanema beachfront. They circled the area twice, but no one was following. She met the orphanage workers at a low-key restaurant on the beach. The women had brought some of the children who were playing in the sand.
Flopping down in one of the chairs, Olivia handed the envelope with the money to Marcia. Marcia was the director of the orphanage and a wonderful caretaker.
“How are you?” the older woman asked.
Olivia preferred to throw the question back at her. “How are things at the orphanage?” She looked at Ana Luiza and Letítia who accompanied their boss. “You girls look great. What did you do with your hair?”
Letítia flipped her dreadlocks. “Do you like it? It’s for the carnival.”
“You have to come with us,” Ana Luiza chirped. “We already have costumes.”
“All beads and feathers,” Letítia added, wagging her eyebrows.
“Nothing but beads and feathers.” Marcia grinned. “Too decadent for me, I’m afraid. I’ll stay and run the orphanage while you go and flaunt your bodies.”
“Come on, Olivia.” Letítia reached over the table to grab her hand. “Say yes. Since Marcia isn’t going we have an extra costume. We’ll go as a team of lookalikes.”
“Thanks,” Olivia gave an uncomfortable smile, “but it’s not for me.”
“You won’t know if you don’t try,” Anna Luiza said. “Besides, you’ll be wearing a mask. No one will recognize you.” She winked. “That’s the beauty.”
The waiter arrived, thankfully saving Olivia from thinking up more excuses, and the subject was dropped as they spoke about how the funds she’d given were going to be used to upgrade the bathrooms at the orphanage.
After they’d eaten, Olivia built sandcastles with the children. She loved these precious hours in which she could let down her guard and simply be. Completely absorbed in the moment, she didn’t have to think or feel. For half an afternoon she forgot about death, sorrow, fear, and guilt. When the sun hung low on the horizon, a familiar feeling of loneliness started creeping up on her. It was almost time to say goodbye.
She waved as Marcia, Ana Luzia, and Letítia bundled the children in their brand-new van, courtesy of her funding. Godfrey didn’t care what she did with her money, and he certainly wasn’t stingy about her spending his, but she made sure the donations were made in cash and untraceable. Her husband watched her credit card statements in case she got it into her head to buy a gun or a plane to fly her far, far away from here, not that it would do her any good. As long as she was carrying the tracker under her skin, she was a blinking target Godfrey could find anywhere.
She got home early enough to set her plan into action. Mystery Man usually didn’t arrive until nightfall. It didn’t mean someone else wasn’t watching her during the day. Changing into a dark shirt and black jeans, she donned her hiking boots and hid her light hair under a baseball cap. Fetching the gardening tools from the shed, she pulled on the gardening gloves and started weeding the flowerbeds. At dusk, she put away the tools, but kept the gloves, and went back inside. Switching on the lights, she walked past the big windows in the lounge and kitchen. In the hallway, she ducked, ensuring she wasn’t visible from any window, and grabbed a backpack she’d prepared earlier before climbing through the study window that was sheltered by a large shrub.
From there, she moved along the protection of the palm trees and plants until she hit the overgrowth by the cliff. Using the rope, she sailed down the side of the rock face until her feet hit the sand. She stripped down to her bikini, bundled her clothes in the backpack, and crouched near the rocks where the jet ski was hidden, waiting out of sight.
Close to ten, the sound of a motorboat became audible over the wash of the tide. In the light of the moon, she made out the white shirt and slacks before the engine was cut and the boat glided into the cove. Only as the man steered the boat onto the sand and pulled it ashore did she get a full glimpse of his profile. His features were bathed in darkness and mist, but she’d recognize the strong set of his shoulders and the fi
rm step of his gait anywhere. He made his way over the sand, grabbed the rope, and climbed up the cliff. There were easier ways of accessing her property, but none as sheltered as this.
Did he honestly think she wouldn’t come after him? If so, he’d underestimated her. By now, he should be at the house. He would’ve discovered she wasn’t home. She checked her watch. She gave him ten minutes. Sure enough, nine minutes and some seconds later, he skittered down the rope at neck-breaking speed. She crouched lower as he pushed the boat back in the water and clambered inside. The engine started up. Pointing the boat toward Copacabana, he took off at a speed that left two waves of foam in his wake.
Olivia got into the water and hopped onto the jet ski. She waited a good while before starting the engine. The noise of the jet ski should be drowned out by the more powerful engine of the boat, but she wasn’t taking chances. Keeping at a safe distance, she followed the powerful spotlight of the boat until the jetty came into view. Sure that it was his destination, she exited on the beach side and tied the jet ski to a tidal pole. From there, she swam to the beach in the dark.
Her stalker made his way along the lit quay with angry strides to where a scooter was parked on the curb. Moving as fast as she could, she pulled a dry T-shirt and a pair of shorts over her bikini, and ran for the street. She flagged down one of the many waiting taxis and gave the driver an instruction in Portuguese to follow the scooter.
They took the road to Leblon. An electronic gate opened in front of a modern mansion. Cain pulled into the yard.
“Stop here,” she told the driver.
She paid him and got out to stand in front of the house. It looked more like a boutique style hotel than a residence. How many people were working with him, and just how powerful was he? Places like these, especially in Leblon, didn’t come cheap. She walked to the garden door and knocked. What did she have to lose? She was as good as dead, anyway.
A man with long, blond hair and slightly pointed ears opened the door. If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it.
“I’m––”
Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9) Page 6