She rolled her eyes. “How can you even think about that -- now?”
“It’s dark, we’re alone...the mirrors are a little kinky.”
“The mirrors are grotesque. If I see myself naked in one of those mirrors, I will probably never take off my clothes again.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” he said.
“Then keep your hands to yourself. ”
J.T. picked up the doorknob that had fallen to the floor. “Look at this: The screws are missing. I’m guessing Evan jimmied with this when he set up the cassette tape.” Getting to his feet, he slid his fingers into the hole where the doorknob had fit and tried to pull the door open. It didn’t work. He took a few steps back and ran at the door, hitting it hard with his right shoulder. The door shook, but didn’t open.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Christina commented.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” He tackled the door again and again, groaning with the effort. His swearing grew louder and more colorful with each frustrated attempt. Unfortunately, he had nothing but bruises to show for his exertion.
Finally he gave up. He looked at Christina. She patted the floor next to her. Reluctantly he sat down.
“Feel better?” she asked.
“Not really.” He scanned the room. There had to be something in here he could use to pry the door open. Maybe he could take apart one of the mirrors. But they were sheer glass with a fine aluminum frame around the edges. That wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“I keep wondering what’s going on at Barclay’s,” Christina muttered. “People will be looking for me. There’s so much I do before an auction. Alexis will probably fire me for this.”
“Alexis may have more pressing matters on her mind. I’m sure the police will be questioning her about David’s death.”
Christina started. “Oh, my God, I almost forgot about that. David is dead. So much has happened in the past twenty-four hours I can’t keep up. Do you think Evan is the one who ran David down?”
“I can’t rule him out, but I think there are other, more likely suspects.”
She shot him a curious look. “Who?”
“Jeremy or Alexis. Didn’t I tell you that David spoke to Alexis on the phone before he was killed?”
“No, you didn’t tell me that. I remember you looking at his cell phone, but you never said who you called.”
“Didn’t I? I guess you ran off before I could.”
“Don’t remind me,” she said with a sigh. “It wasn’t my finest hour. So tell me the rest. Is there some relationship between David and Alexis?”
“I don’t know. They obviously spoke right before he was killed. I haven’t had time to do any further research. I gave the police the cell phone, so I’m sure they’ll be talking to Alexis, if they haven’t already.”
“If Alexis and David had a personal relationship, it would explain why David was at the party,” Christina said slowly.
“Maybe she was having an affair with David,” J.T. said.
“It’s hard to believe she would do that to Jeremy.”
“Is it? Jeremy and Alexis strike me as kind of an odd couple. I take that back. She’s beautiful. He has money. It’s not like we haven’t seen that combination before,” J.T. said dryly.
“They could still love each other,” Christina said. “Even if they didn’t, I can’t see Jeremy mowing someone down with his car.”
“He didn’t have to do it himself. He’s a rich man. He can pay people to do his dirty work.”
“I guess. It’s weird how it’s all happening at once -- David dying, the diamond going up for auction.” She turned to him with a puzzled look. “Do you think the car accident is related to the diamond? Or is it just a coincidence that it happened the night before the auction?”
J.T. considered her question. “I don’t see the connection yet, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“It’s more likely that Evan ran David down,” Christina said. “He sounded so spooky. I wish I could see him, get a handle on what he looks like. I didn’t recognize his voice.”
“I think he was speaking into a microphone, something that distorted the tone,” J.T. agreed. “He must have been afraid we would connect his voice to whoever he has been impersonating.”
She nodded. “That’s why he sounded so strange. What was the reference to the game playing about?”
“Football.” J.T. drew circles with his fingers on the dusty floor, the word football making his stomach turn over. It had once been his passion, but it had become his nightmare.
“Go on,” Christina urged.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on, J.T. If Evan knows about it, why can’t I?”
“Fine. I went to Cal on a football scholarship. I was the quarterback. I actually got drafted after college by the New York Jets.”
“Really? You were that good?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Sorry. So how on earth did you get from the football field to the FBI?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, rolling his head around on his shoulders.
“Apparently we’ve got time.” She settled herself more comfortably against the wall.
He had a feeling she was prepared to wait him out. What was the big deal? That part of his life was long gone. “All right. Here’s the short version. My second year in the pros, I got hit and tore up my knee. I had to have surgery. It was a long recovery. When I eventually got better, I tried to play, but I quickly realized that I didn’t have the will or the heart. Things got bad and then they got worse. So I quit.” He paused, remembering those odd days of nothingness after he’d walked away from the game. He’d been focused on football for so much of his life he’d felt completely lost when it was gone. And yet strangely relieved.
“So you went into the FBI?” Christina asked. “Seems like an odd leap.”
“I didn’t do anything right away. I was exploring my options and dealing with my father’s disappointment. It was his dream for me to be a pro football player. He groomed me to be a quarterback since I was six years old. He used to take me out every day after school, and I would practice throwing spirals to him. He was my coach all through the peewee leagues. He was at every game I ever played in high school and in college he never missed a home game. I thought I was living my dream, but when I got hurt, I realized it had been his dream. I’d just gotten tangled up in it. I hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. The best times we ever spent together were on the football field. Those were some of the worst times, too.”
He drew another breath, wondering why it was so easy to talk to Christina. He hadn’t spilled his guts about his relationship with his father to anyone -- not even his ex-wife, not that she’d been eager to talk about anything that didn’t concern her.
Christina gave him a nod of encouragement. “Go on.”
“My father didn’t understand how I could walk away from the game while I still had so much promise, so much unrealized potential. We had a love/hate relationship even before Evan came between us.” He gazed into Christina’s eyes. “I think that’s why Evan went after my dad. He knew my father was the one person who could get to me.”
“Your father was your Achilles’ heel,” Christina said. “I’m so sorry, J.T.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’m still sorry. You had unfinished business with your dad. You never had a chance to tell him how you felt about any of this, did you?”
He shook his head. “We said a lot in anger. I don’t think either of us was even listening to the other most of the time. Anyway, that’s it.”
“Not quite. You still haven’t told me how you went from football to the FBI.”
“That was Evan. When he took my father down, he gave me a strong motive to go into law enforcement. Fortunately, that degree in prelaw I’d earned at Cal gave me an entrée into the bureau. Once I became an agent, I specialized in fraud and started to track Evan
. I’ve been on his trail ever since. Other cases come and go. I’ve caught lots of bad guys, but not him, not yet.”
“You will,” she said confidently.
“I will,” he agreed. “I don’t have one doubt about that. I’ll stay on him as long as it takes.”
“It sounds like everything worked out then, making the change from football player to special agent.”
He tipped his head. “Not quite,” he muttered. “My wife didn’t like my change of job any more than my father did.”
“Your wife?” she squealed, her jaw dropping in surprise. “You didn’t tell me you had a wife.”
“Relax. I meant my ex-wife. We met in college. Cheryl wanted to be married to a pro football player. When I quit the game, she quit me. It wasn’t meant to be. We were young and stupid when we got married. We didn’t know what the hell we were doing.”
“I’m surprised she got you down the aisle at such a young age. You don’t seem like the marrying type.”
“That’s because I’ve been married,” he said pointedly. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I wouldn’t know. Paul dumped me at the first sign of trouble. I know it was probably better for me to find out sooner than later that his devotion could only go so far. When things got rough, he bailed.”
“If he was that big a coward, you’re better off without him.”
“And you’re better off without your ex-wife, who doesn’t sound very nice, by the way, although I’m betting she was hot.”
He grinned back at her. “I was the quarterback, Christina.”
“And could get any girl you wanted. I suspect you still feel that way.”
“Are you implying I have a big ego?”
“Absolutely,” she said with a laugh.
“Hey, I’m not that bad. I have grown up a little since college.”
“Don’t worry, J.T. Your arrogance is part of your charm.”
“That’s a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.”
She gave a little shrug. “Thanks for telling me your story.”
“No problem. I know you can keep a secret.”
She made a little face at him. “Very funny.” She cocked her head to one side as she studied him. “Don’t you worry at all that you’re too personally involved with Evan? That you won’t be able to see him as clearly as you should?”
“No, I don’t worry about that. I know him better than anyone, and he’s mine. I had him in jail a couple of weeks ago, you know. I thought it was over. Unfortunately, I left him at the jail and he managed to trick an incompetent cop out of his uniform and his badge.”
“How did he do that?”
“He asked for a cup of coffee. When the cop came close, he grabbed him around the neck, hitting two key pressure points, and the guy went down without a whimper. I won’t leave Evan alone again. I won’t take my eyes off him until he’s locked up for good.”
“You’re awfully cocky for a man trapped in a room of mirrors,” she pointed out. “That ego we were talking about.”
“You’re the reason we’re trapped,” he grumbled. “It was my personal involvement with you that clouded my judgment, not my relationship with Evan. I followed you in here to protect you. If you’d trusted me enough to tell me where you were going, neither one of us would be here.”
“I know that. I’m sorry,” she added guiltily.
“Me, too.”
“Just about being trapped, or about last night?”
He leaned forward, pulling her hair away from her ear so he could whisper, “Not for a second.” He slid his tongue around the edge of her earlobe. He heard her soft intake of breath, felt her heart quicken along with his own. She put her hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to make a choice as a voice called out, “Hello? Is someone in there?”
J.T. jumped to his feet. “We’re locked in here,” he yelled. He grabbed Christina and pulled her to her feet.
“What happened to the knob?” the man asked.
“It came off,” J.T. replied.
“Stand back.”
A moment later a construction worker pried open the door with a crowbar. “How did you two get in here? This building is supposed to be locked up.”
“The door was open,” Christina said. “We just thought we’d take a peek inside.”
“Didn’t you see the sign? We’re closed for remodeling.”
“How did you know we were here?” J.T. asked, sure he already knew the answer.
“Some dude called my boss and said he thought he saw someone come in here.”
“We’re really sorry,” Christina said. “We didn’t mean to get trapped. I opened one door and suddenly I was on a slide.”
“Yeah, well, don’t do it again,” he said gruffly. “Next time I’ll call the cops.”
J.T. didn’t bother to flash his badge or explain. He didn’t want to delay getting out of the building. The construction worker escorted them all the way up to the front door and out to the pier. J.T. was happy to be back outside with the wind on his face and a chance to regain control of the game.
Christina checked her watch. “It’s almost eleven thirty. I think we can just make it to Barclay’s before the diamond goes up for bid.”
“I’m sure we’ll make it. In fact, I think we’re right on schedule.”
“What does that mean?”
“Evan called that guy to let us out. He didn’t want us to be trapped forever, just long enough to set his plan into motion. Now he wants us at the auction house.”
“Why?”
“Only one reason I can think of,” he said grimly. “So we can see him steal the diamond.”
* * *
Evan walked into the showroom at Barclay’s. The auction had begun thirty minutes earlier, and every seat in the room was taken. Clusters of bidders stood in the back, paddles in one hand, catalogs in the other. At the front of the room the auctioneer stood at a raised podium with the Barclay’s insignia on the front. Behind the auctioneer was an electronic board that continually updated the latest bid, be it on the phone, the Internet, or in the room. The individual lots were brought into the room via a wood-paneled revolving door next to the podium. With each turn of that door, the energy and excitement in the room grew more palpable. They were getting close to the big-ticket items, the ones everyone had come here to see or to buy.
Evan loved these moments right before the kill. His heart was beginning to speed up. Adrenaline surged through his bloodstream. He felt completely and utterly alive. For the first time since he’d begun this game, he had difficulty keeping his face composed, dispassionate, his stance calm and relaxed, but he’d always had complete and utter control over his body, his expressions, and his voice. Today was no different. He would not slip up. He would not make a mistake. He would keep to the plan.
As the auctioneer rattled off bids rapid-fire, his mind drifted to Jenny. He could imagine how she would react when he showed her the fruit of his labors. Her beautiful hazel eyes would widen with amazement. She would finally understand that he was doing this one for her, just for her. He’d waited a long time to have her.
Jenny didn’t know how difficult it had been to walk away from her all those years ago. She didn’t understand the sacrifice he had made to let her have her life. He’d never been noble or generous, except with her. But it had become clear to him in recent months that Jenny had no life without him. She’d never married, never had children. She’d been waiting for him to come back. She just hadn’t had the courage to tell him. Now he knew the truth. And he would have her. They would be together. He would dress her in designer clothes, adorn her with exquisite and expensive diamonds. He would take her around the world and show her everything she had never seen. He would no longer be alone in his adventures; he would have Jenny by his side. It was almost time.
He started as the door opened behind him. Alexis Kensington entered the room.
She looked tired, as if she’d been up half the night. He suspected that was exactly what had happened. He knew she’d spent most of the morning answering questions about the tragic death of David Padlinsky. Evan smiled to himself. The police had helped him out this morning, keeping everyone at Barclay’s busy with the investigation into the hit-and-run accident. It seemed that David and Alexis had had a relationship. Who knew? Certainly not the employees, who’d also spent most of the morning huddling around cubicles and hallways, gossiping about the latest events instead of doing their jobs.
God, he loved distractions. It was remarkably easy to turn someone’s head in a different direction. So many people thought that things happened by chance, that fate stepped in and took what it desired. It was never fate or chance. It was usually him -- or someone like him -- someone who moved in the shadows, who manipulated the game of life without anyone even knowing they were playing -- like Christina Alberti.
He figured that J.T. had told her about their history. Christina had been warned to look out for him, to keep her wits about her, which, of course, she hadn’t done when she’d followed an anonymous note to a deserted location. He could still hear the panic in her voice when she’d realized that her father wasn’t coming, that she’d been trapped in the room of mirrors. He’d always enjoyed irony, and he loved the thought of J.T. seeing his powerless, impotent image in the mirror every time he turned around. J.T. wouldn’t be able to escape his own ineptness. Ah, life was sweet sometimes. If only he’d had more time, he would have stuck around to enjoy their quandary.
But he would have the pleasure of their company again -- soon. He had made sure of that. It would be amusing to show his real face to Christina, to reveal his true nature. She would be shocked to know that they had stood face-to-face and spoken to each other. She would swear to J.T. that she had had no idea, that she had been completely fooled. That would be the truth. She had been so busy chasing her father, she hadn’t seen what was right in front of her.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it, knowing who was calling. He would let her sweat it out. She should have more faith in him. He never failed, and today would be no exception. In a few hours they would both get what they wanted -- not that she would be able to keep the diamond. He had other plans.
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