“And now Tolliver has resorted to veiled threats?”
“Somehow, he knows the software is close to being finished. He wants to close the deal before it’s complete so I don’t get the chance to sell it elsewhere.” He took a sip of black coffee. “But as I told him, I have no intention of selling the software to the likes of him or his clients. It’s for a personal project. Once that project is finished, I will consider selling the software to the US government. Homeland Security and the military would love to have it.” Drake walked back over to his desk and sat down. “Satisfied?”
Not even close. There was so much more going on here—that much was obvious from the antagonism that wafted off Tolliver like bad cologne—but he knew better than to push at the moment. There was time yet to figure this out. Now, at least, he knew that Drake was in serious danger, and Mitch was going to have to step up his game. A lot more research and planning were required to keep Drake safe. He had to call in his brothers and a few other people to help him on this one.
“Now that I know the level of risk you’re facing, we need to make some changes. We’ve got to move to the house. I know the wine cellar isn’t complete, but this yacht is a safety nightmare. And those girls gotta go. They attract too much attention, and I always have to have one of my people nearby to make sure they don’t get drunk and fall into the water. There’s a much better security system at the house, and I can make it even tighter.”
Drake cocked his head and studied Mitch. “Fine. We’ll move to the house.” He took a sip of his coffee and then sent a quick text. “Janice will be up momentarily to help you coordinate the move.”
Almost before Drake had finished speaking, Mitch felt movement behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Janice in the doorway.
“Yes, Mr. Drake?” She crossed the room, passing Mitch, to stand in front of Drake’s desk. She didn’t appear out of breath, but Mitch wondered how someone her age had made it to the upper deck so quickly. Her office was two levels down on the lower deck next to the kitchen. Janice had to be sixty if she was a day. She must have been a beauty in her youth, and she was still a striking woman—tall and trim with a great sense of style. She was also thoroughly competent and intelligent, which made her Mitch’s favorite person in Drake’s entourage.
“Janice, we’re moving to the house today. Please coordinate with the house staff. We’re going to stop construction for now. Make sure everything is cleaned up and ready for my arrival after lunch.”
Janice nodded. It would be a herculean job, but she didn’t seem put out or stressed. “Yes, Mr. Drake.” She turned toward the doorway.
“Oh,” Drake said casually, “and Janice? Get rid of the girls out front. Mr. Callahan doesn’t like them.”
With a quick wink at Mitch, Janice said, “Yes, sir,” and continued out the door.
Drake regarded Mitch. “There. Are you happy now, Callahan? We’re going to the house and the girls are gone.”
Mitch just nodded. He headed for the stairs.
“And Callahan? Just because I let you get away with questioning my authority once, doesn’t mean you can do it again. Don’t forget who’s boss.”
Mitch didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. He just turned and went down the stairs. He couldn’t decide who he hated more at that moment—Drake for being an asshole or himself for staying and continuing to work for said asshole. The things he did for his brothers. Making a go of the family business just might get him killed.
Chapter Nine
Alex saw a flurry of movement on the deck. The bikini babes were being rounded up and, by the look of things, kicked off the yacht. They were clutching bags and random items in their arms as they were hustled down the pier. Was Drake pulling up anchor? That would be disastrous for her. She’d have to find a boat to rent and try to follow them. No, that wouldn’t work at all. As it was, she’d only managed to get this room by tipping the guy at the front desk an obscene amount of money.
She bit her lip as she watched the movement on the yacht. No one seemed to be getting it ready to go out. There was no captain that she could see onboard. Of course, someone from the security detail might pilot it.
Then a group of security guys left the yacht carrying a lot of luggage. They went up to a couple of SUVs that were backed up to the end of the wharf and deposited the bags in the trunk. Two guys stayed with the vehicles, and the others went back down to the yacht.
They appeared again moments later and closed ranks around Drake. They walked with him off the boat. They were moving out, but were they coming back? No time soon by the look of all that luggage.
“Damn!” Was he going back to his estate a few miles away? Leo had said Drake was having a new wine cellar built, which is why he was on the yacht. He didn’t want to be around while it was under construction. It wasn’t finished yet, but maybe scary guy’s visit this morning had changed things.
She followed their movements with her binoculars until they disappeared around the corner, then hopped up off the lounger and ran inside her room. Maybe she could find out where they were going if she got down to the marina fast enough. She put on her flip-flops, threw on her cover-up, plonked a large floppy hat on her head, and grabbed her sunglasses. The second she was ready, she dashed for the stairs.
Exiting the lobby, trying not to breathe heavily after her sprint, she made her way out to the pool. She tried to blend in and not move too quickly, but she really needed to get an eye on the situation. Drake heading out for the weekend was one thing, but if her theory was right and he was moving, well, she needed to know where he was going.
She made it to the marina just as their SUVs pulled out. Shit! She stood there for a second undecided. Should she go back upstairs and start making phone calls, or should she check out the yacht? It was risky to hit the yacht during broad daylight. On the other hand, it would be pretty easy to fudge a cover story. She could say one of the bikini babes had invited her and then ask where everyone had disappeared to. That was if anyone was still around. It seemed unlikely.
She strolled along the docks toward Drake’s rental, trying to make it seem like she belonged. People didn’t notice bystanders who “belonged.” She walked right up to the yacht and peered over the side. There was no easy way to get on, The gangplank leading to the deck had a chain across it. She’d have to step over the edge of the dock and duck under the chain.
“Hello?” she called. She wasn’t sure if she was hoping for a response or not. “Hello,” she called again, louder this time. Still nothing. She studied her surroundings. As the last yacht in the row, Drake had few neighbors. There was one boat behind her as she stood next to Drake’s, but it appeared to be empty. She hadn’t seen anyone on it all morning.
She gave it one last shot just in case. “Hellllooooo!”
When no one appeared, she took a last glance around and then climbed onto the yacht. She ducked under the chain and went up the gangplank. The deck was very swank. It had leather sofas with mountains of overstuffed cushions on them. There was a hot tub in the corner. She headed toward the door to the salon and gave it a crank. Locked. She took one of the pins from her hair and quickly picked it. The door gave with a satisfying slide, and she headed inside, closing it after her.
She took off her sunglasses and put them in the pocket of her cover up as she stepped onto the thick beige carpet. There was a long gleaming wood bar at the far end with bottles of every liquor imaginable behind it, all top-shelf stuff. The sofas were a warm brown leather, and the coffee and end tables were made of the same wood as the bar—oak would be her guess. There were a few local magazines on the coffee table but nothing else. The whole room spoke of money but impersonal money. There was nothing here that spoke of who owned the yacht. No family photos nor knick-knacks. Not a thing to tell her where Drake had gone or if he was coming back. She started walking toward the bar.
“Can I help you?”
Alex whirled around, instinctively bringing her hands up in a boxer’s s
tance to defend herself and came face-to-face with Callahan himself. He’d come silently into the room behind her. “Oh, you startled me.” She belatedly moved a hand to her chest, as if he had scared her, which of course he had, but the last time someone had scared her, she’d knocked him flat on his ass. But no need to let Mr. Security know she could do that.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing here?”
She widened her eyes and tried to appear innocent. “Oh, I was looking for Brandi?”
“There’s no Brandi here.” His eyes narrowed. “Have we met?” He moved slightly closer to her.
“Um, I don’t think so. I, um, that is Brandi said there was a party here and I should come join her. I’ve never been on a sailboat like this before,” she simpered. She looked around and tried to appear impressed.
“Yacht.”
“What?” She gave him the big-eyed look again. She had to tilt her head up to do it. He was bigger than she remembered, but those eyes were just as intense. Gray, and they were studying her.
He took his time answering her. “Yacht. It’s a yacht, not a sailboat.”
“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess. So, um, is Brandi here?” All she needed to do now was twirl her hair and chew gum and she would be the spitting image of every too-stupid-to-live college co-ed in the movies.
“Like I said, there’s no Brandi here.”
“Um, right.”
He ran his eyes over her from head to toe and back up again. It was an assessing gaze, not a sexual one. It was refreshing, she had to admit, but it was also a bad sign. She didn’t have on her colored contacts, nor did she have the wig. She was glad she hadn’t taken off her hat because her blond hair was tucked up in a loose bun underneath it, but now he knew her eyes were green.
“So, do you know where Suzi might have gone then?”
The corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. “I thought you said her name was Brandi?”
“I—uh—” The stammering was real this time. She had slipped up. Damn! This guy was good, really, really good. Didn’t help that his hotness distracted her.
“You just said Brandi wasn’t here so I thought you might know about Suzi. She’s always with Brandi. They said they’d be here, so I just assumed, but I guess I was wrong.” She brought out her sunglasses and put them on. “I’ll just get out of your hair.” She tried to walk by him to the door, but his hand whipped out and caught her arm. She yelped in surprise.
“Sorry,” he said but didn’t remove his hand. “Just a couple of questions. How did you get onto the yacht? The chain is across the gangplank.”
Deciding honesty was best, she said, “I ducked under it. Brandi mumbled something about security being a pain in the ass. I thought that was what she meant,” Alex said and then shrugged.
“I see.” That hint of a smile was back. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ah, it’s...”
His phone made a piercing sound, or at least she guessed it was his phone. He let go of her arm and brought the cellphone out of his pocket. She moved slightly away from him and whispered a prayer of thanks. The less information she had to give him the better. She had a list of fake identities, but it was better if she didn’t have to use one.
The phone sounded again. It had to be the text indicator he’d chosen, but she couldn’t fathom why someone would willingly choose such a harsh sound. She would be traumatized by it within the first hour. The phone went off again, another text, and then it rang with an old-school telephone sound. He hit the screen and said, “Callahan.”
“We’ve got a problem,” Jake said, casting aside any preliminaries.
Mitch demanded, “What kind of problem?”
“Drake’s lunch meeting got cancelled, and he wants to go directly to the estate. The construction guys aren’t out yet, and we haven’t had a chance to properly secure it.”
Mitch closed his eyes and cursed loudly. “Tell Drake to eat lunch. We aren’t ready for him at the house yet.”
Jake hesitated. “Dan told him that we couldn’t go to the estate yet, and he inevitably got pissed. Then Dan suggested he should get a massage or something, which only made things worse.”
“I’m sure. Dan needs to keep his big mouth shut.” Mitch ran his free hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in tufts. “Where is Drake now?”
“Restroom. Riggs and Hayes are with him.”
“Okay. Are Caterina or Jessica or any of the ladies he likes to chat with around? Find someone for him to have lunch with.”
“What am I, his social secretary?” Jake complained.
“We aren’t ready for him at the estate. The way this day’s going, we’re likely to get fired, so if you want to get paid, find a distraction. A safe distraction.”
“Fine,” Jake snapped. “Un-fucking-believable.”
There was silence, but the line was still open. Mitch was grinding his teeth again. This client had truly become his biggest nightmare. He could hear Jake walking around, then the sound of murmured conversation.
“Okay, Caterina is here. I told her we needed a favor. She said she’d keep Drake busy by asking him his opinion about some of her business decisions, but in return she wants a favor from me to be determined in the future.”
“Deal.”
“Easy for you to say. The way she smiled at me, I think I just sold my soul to the devil.” There was a short pause. “They’re going to the back garden for lunch. We’re good.”
Mitch cursed again as he blew out the breath he had been holding. “Tell Dan I want to see him as soon as you get back to the estate. I’m headed over there now to take care of everything.”
“Will do.”
“And Jake, make sure to let Caterina know it has to be a long lunch, Okay? We need time to get everything set up.”
“Roger that.”
Mitch took a deep breath and turned to deal with the intruder, but she was gone. She’d left, or at least she wasn’t in the room. Now he was going to have to search the entire yacht just in case. “Fuck!” He was dropping the ball again and again today.
He took a step toward the doorway, but her scent hit him in the solar plexus, and he stopped dead. He knew that smell. Sunshine and spice. From where? At the office? In his neighborhood? Paris? No. The thief from Venice! He knew it in his bones.
Different look, but it was her. Last time, he’d gotten lucky. His other client hadn’t been her mark, and he’d gotten away with his mistake, but this time she was on his client’s yacht. Huh. Was she after the software? Did she work for Tolliver? He let that thought roll around in his mind as he did a cursory search of the yacht. She had left, he was sure of it, and since they were moving to the estate, it really didn’t matter what she did on the yacht. Even so, he would love to know what she was up to.
He was pulling the salon door closed when he realized she must have picked the lock to get in. He smiled faintly. She was bold, no doubt about that. Picking a lock in broad daylight took guts and skills. He turned and went down the stairs. Making sure everything was locked up and tied down, he gave the place one last visual pass and then hopped over onto the dock.
The hot early summer sun beat down on his back through T-shirt. The black cargos he had on weren’t doing him any favors either. He greatly missed the Jersey shore and the summers he had spent there when he was a kid. Right now, he wanted to be at the beach, going for a swim or maybe catching a wave. Not driving over to a client’s estate to yell at one of his guys. And now a thief was sniffing around. Life was not going the way he’d planned.
Chapter Ten
She congratulated herself on her good fortune. That phone call had saved her ass. She knew better than to count on that happening again. She was really blowing it with this guy. She needed to take a step back and reassess her strategy.
She had taken the stairs back up to the room at a run, and now that the adrenaline rush had left her system, she was exhausted and slightly out of sorts. She flopped back onto her bed and clos
ed her eyes. Maybe Leo was right about retiring from the gig. She had enough money, and if she left now, she could still move around the world without a problem. Well, except for Sweden, and she had no desire to go back there. Maybe it was time for her to find something legit to do with her life.
Alex found herself thinking of her best friend, Lacy Carmichael. They had met at boarding school in California. Lacy lived in New York City as a lawyer, which was surprising since her father’s business wasn’t always, or ever actually, on the right side of the law. Maybe after this job was finished, she would go meet Lacy in the city and hang out. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, and she missed Lacy’s friendship a lot.
She rubbed her face with her hands. She could hear Diana’s voice in her head. It wasn’t so much the words her client said but the tone. The desperation in it. Diana was going to do everything possible to get her life back because, whether Alex understood it or not, she loved Jeffery and the status he afforded her.
No getting around it. Diana reminded her of her mother.
As a child, Alex had known her father wasn’t like other fathers. He didn’t love her or her mother. It was obvious to Alex in everything he said and did. But not to her mother. Her mother had thought the sun shone out of his ass, and when he finally up and left, when her money just wasn’t enough to keep him anymore, she couldn’t handle it.
Alex had mistakenly believed that her mother would get over it and they could move on and be like other mothers and daughters. Only it never happened. Her mother would spend a whole day ranting about what a horrible person he was and how much she regretted not only giving him her heart, but her father’s pocket watch. Alex’s father had taken it with him on his way out. Just to make her mother miserable. That was the kind of guy he was.
The next day, everything would shift with no explanation, and her mother would defend the man to anyone who dared mention him, blaming everyone but him for his decisions. One time she’d even shifted the blame onto Alex, accusing her of driving her father away. Alex’s Uncle Michael had comforted her and told her that her mother was sick. He had begged her not to take any of the behavior to heart. That was when the family had arranged to send her to boarding school.
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