by Kylie Brant
“Well.” Eve stared at the door he’d disappeared through. “Makes you sort of wonder what Adam Raiker did to elicit such gratitude.”
Declan lost no time sitting down at the long table and powering up the laptop. “Baltes was alerted to irregularities in the banks’ finances three years ago. Discretion is the name of the game when it comes to financial institutions.” He tapped in a sequence of letters, numbers and symbols with dizzying speed. Passwords, most likely. “Adam was hired by the bank board to bring in a team of forensic accountants each night to find where the money was going. They eventually nailed the chief financial officer for embezzling over four million dollars.”
Her eyes widened. “Four million buys a lot of gratitude.”
“Four million buys a lot of everything.” He tapped a few more keys and sat back in his chair. Eve looked from him to the still dark screen.
“What are we waiting for?”
“Me, I assume.” Adam Raiker appeared on the screen, seated in a darkened room. The background was shrouded in shadows. Declan knew that would be by design.
“Miss Larrison. I hope Gallagher has been treating you well.”
It was as if he’d snatched Declan’s brief mental aberration of the night before from the depths of his memory. With a mischievous glance at Declan, Eve said in a judicious voice, “For the most part. Other than this overwhelming hunger I seem to have acquired…”
“Eve…” He growled the warning.
“What?” She was all innocence. “You didn’t feed me breakfast.”
“Feed the poor woman, Gallagher. It’s not like you don’t have an expense account.”
“Wait until you see it.” Declan’s gaze when it met hers promised retribution. “She eats enough to keep a small village alive for a week.” And she apparently had no clear understanding of the term “statute of limitations.”
“Let’s hope the dining room in the Latifma Hotel is up to your standards. I found nothing about the quality of the food there, but the hotel itself has had a colorful history.”
“By any chance are the owners of Asian descent?”
“Not currently, no. A group of Pakistani investors own it, and apparently some of their people run it. But it’s had a colorful history. Twenty-five years ago a Malaysian by the name of Rizqi bin Osman bought it. Seven years ago ICE raided the hotel, busting a drug operation and a prostitution ring peopled mainly with illegal immigrants. Before he could be scooped up, bin Osman fled the country. There’s been no police activity at the property in the time since. Here’s where you’ll be going.”
Declan studied the photos Adam held up that depicted an aging structure in pale brick. The inside lobby was well kept. It looked like a moderately priced establishment. “It seems to cater mostly to foreign businessman, but there are certainly American guests there,” Raiker continued. The next picture showed a rather unremarkable dining room. And then there were several shots of the exits of the building. “I’ve emailed you the blueprints of the hotel so you’re not walking into the place cold.”
“That might come in handy,” Declan muttered. “Right now we have no way of knowing if the location was chosen at random or whether our mystery messenger has a connection there.
“We’ll know soon enough.” Adam was back on screen. “I’ll have a couple stationed in the dining room while you’re there. They’ll take photos of your host and we’ll run him through various international databases.”
He nodded. “And we’ll let you know just what his business proposition entails.” He was clear on the parameters of the assignment. Adrenaline began to fire in his veins. And he was more than ready to get the waiting over and the mission underway.
Never one to linger over conversation, Raiker was nonetheless silent for a moment, as if choosing his next words carefully. “Some information has come to light that lead me to believe that neither Jaid nor I is the motivation behind Royce’s kidnapping.”
Declan paused a beat as he digested the new information. “What’s that leave? If not money or revenge we’re back to square one.”
“The motivation is Royce himself.” Raiker’s expression went fierce. “This information is need-to-know only. Jaid…adopted him when he was a few weeks old. She knows nothing about his parentage. But we have reason to believe the attempted kidnapping somehow stems from the mystery surrounding his birth.”
“Surely she has details about where he came from. There have to be social workers who were involved. Birth records…”
“It’s complicated.” Adam’s terse reply stemmed Eve’s flow of words. “And the only person we know of who had all the facts has been dead for nine years.”
“Taking the secret to the grave,” she murmured.
The words were dramatic but true enough, Declan realized. It would have been easier to track someone who sought revenge, or even hoped to gain leverage over Jaid or Adam by snatching their son. Unraveling a mystery nearly a decade old might prove to be a bit more challenging.
“This information actually gives us a head start,” Adam said. “We already know Royce was the target, if not why. It’s up to you to get us answers.”
“And also to lead them into a trap in which they incriminate themselves.”
Raiker inclined his head. “Any details you might acquire about the criminal activity these people may be involved in will have to be shared with the authorities. So it would behoove us to gather facts as quickly as we can.”
“In case one of the alphabet agencies swoops in and changes the focus of the investigation.” Declan reached into his coat and withdrew a hand towel he’d wrapped around the weapon he’d taken off their would-be kidnapper. He held it up to the screen. “If I leave this gun here with the computer, can someone fetch it to run it for prints? I took it off one of the guys who tried to abduct us yesterday. Who knows, we might get lucky.”
“An agent will come for it. I left you something else in the safe besides the computer.”
Eve and Declan looked at each other before she got up and opened the door to cross to the safe. Her narrow skirt made crouching somewhat difficult, but she withdrew a small lightweight pouch and brought it back to the table in the adjoining room. From the bag she took out what looked like an MP3 player and earphones. “I hope there’s no country music on this.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Raiker said. “It does have a switch that allows it play music. But it also acts as a receiver. There should be a small listening device in the pouch, as well.” Reaching into the bag, Eve took out a small clear plastic box. Inside it was a tiny silver square item.
“Nice,” she said admiringly, turning it over to peer at it closer. “But it’s not cell phone activated?” Her words had Declan sliding her a careful look before leaning over to examine it himself.
“It’s a new prototype and virtually undetectable. Voice activated and fully charged. The receiver allows you to listen in without drawing undue attention, since there might be interested parties nearby. No distance limitations. It’ll work for seventy-two hours on standby, with at least twenty hours of usage time. That should be more than enough. But…” Raiker’s face went grim. “Don’t take any unnecessary chances. FBI agent Stillions got the warrant and I just sent it along in case an opportunity presented itself. And I’ll let you know if we get a hit on the photos taken today. Until then watch your back.” The screen abruptly went black.
“Well. That was an unceremonious sign off.”
Declan didn’t answer. He was opening the email Raiker had sent and studying the blueprint of the hotel.
“Dining room is left of center on the lobby floor.” He tapped the indicated space on the screen. “Note the exits. The hallway to the restrooms is here.” He traced the space with his index finger. “That’s likely to be the only way out of the hotel that doesn’t lead back into the lobby.”
“There should be
a door leading outside from the kitchen. Likely toward an alley or the back of the building. They’d need a place to put their waste and Dumpsters are usually hidden in less public places.”
He glanced at her, a slight smile on his face. “Trust you to think of the kitchen.” Checking the blueprint again, he said, “It wouldn’t be considered a public exit, but yeah, here’s a door.” He surveyed the screen before closing out of the email and then tapping in a series of code that wiped the computer screen completely clean. “It’s likely to be a very low-key first meeting. An offer might not be made until later.” Despite the matter-of-fact words he couldn’t deny the kick in his pulse. Their assignment had just broadened in scope. Identifying the people responsible for Royce’s kidnapping attempt was as crucial as was learning the circumstances of the boy’s birth.
“The message mentioned a business proposition,” Eve pointed out reasonably. “They’ve waited ten and a half weeks. I think they’ll be in more of a hurry than you imagine.”
“Either way, the meet will be perfectly safe. Raiker will have another couple of people in there as back up if things go wrong. I’m not expecting that they will.”
Her brows rose. “Excellent news, but I don’t require handholding. Let’s do this.”
Closing the laptop, he sat for a moment surveying her. “You sounded familiar with the workings of listening devices.”
Because he was watching so closely he noted the way her expression subtly altered. Those blue eyes widened just a bit, perfecting the mask of innocence. “Trust is sometimes a commodity in short supply in the State Department, especially with emissaries from opaque regimes.” She didn’t flinch under his regard.
Plausible, of course. And yet…something about the woman didn’t add up. He gave a mental headshake and pulled out his cell to check the time. His efforts would be better spent preparing for the upcoming meeting. He’d already devoted way too much time considering the incongruities of Eve Larrison.
His chair scraped the floor as he pushed it back. “We’ve got time if we hurry.”
She rose and fell in step beside him as he started for the door of the transaction room. “Time to get a look at where those hotel exits lead?”
“You read my mind.”
_______
“Those two Latino gentlemen in the cheap suits.”
It was Eve’s third guess in the past ten minutes. And just like her other two predictions, Declan made no attempt to turn around and look at the people she indicated.
“Since he’s unlikely to send agents who can be identified as his employees, I wouldn’t recognize them anyway.”
They spoke in Scottish Gaelic, as usual. “Our host is late.”
“Ten minutes.” He reached for his water glass. Took a sip. “We’ll order in another five, whether the approach is made or not.”
The restaurant wasn’t overly large, with room for no more than sixty. They’d been led to a secluded table in the far corner, although only a third of the tables and booths were occupied. The wait staff were a mix of nationalities, but like the hostess posted at the door, they all spoke excellent English.
Eve smoothed the narrow wool skirt she’d worn and eyed the rest of the dining room’s occupants surreptitiously. Besides the middle-aged males she’d just mentioned was a group of four German-speaking men two tables away. The hostess was conversing with an Asian woman inside the doorway and an elderly couple drank tea at a booth across the room, neither exchanging a word. As Raiker had mentioned, the clientele was an eclectic mix of foreign and American customers. The couple who had come in directly after them was still her best guess for those reporting to Raiker. They’d chosen the booth closest to Declan’s and Eve’s table and sat next to each other. The woman was a great deal younger than the man. Maybe she was supposed to be his daughter. Or posing as his trophy wife.
Even as she had the thought Eve saw the woman rest her hand on the gentleman’s thigh and slide it slowly upward to cup him intimately. Her cheeks heated and she quickly averted her gaze. So…that couple was out. Unless they were devoted to taking their disguise much further than duty required.
She focused on the menu. After studying it for a minute she said, “Just to forgo any snide comments, I plan to order enough for breakfast and lunch.”
His smile held a hint of indulgence. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“I must apologize again, this time for my tardiness.”
Eve’s head jerked up. The Asian woman who had been conversing with the hostess stood beside the table. “Mr. Gallagher, I presume?” She offered her hand to Declan. “Please, do not get up. May I?”
“Yes, of course. Please join us.” His tone was as polite as Eve had ever heard it, proving that the man did have manners when he chose to use them. The shock she was feeling wasn’t mirrored in his voice. Of all the possibilities they’d considered, she didn’t think even Adam Raiker had imagined their contact would be female.
Of course, the woman may only be a go between used by whoever had masterminded Royce’s kidnapping.
“My name is Xie Shuang.” The woman turned to Eve. “You must be Mr. Gallagher’s lovely wife. Thank you for meeting with me today.”
Eve sent her a vacuous smile. “Oh, it was our pleasure. You’re Japanese, aren’t you? We had a Japanese cook when I was little. She taught me to speak a little of the language. Genki des ka .” She purposely mangled the pronunciation.
Shuang’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I am from Tokyo. How clever you are to guess that.”
Eve beamed. “She made the best sushi, too. Do you know how to make sushi? I can’t quite get the knack. I really don’t like to touch raw fish. I only like to eat it.” She gave a tinkling laugh. “I know that makes no sense, but there you go. Maybe that’s what I’ll order today, darling,” she said to Declan. She scanned the menu again. “Oh.” She made a moue of disappointment. “It’s not on the menu here.”
“We’ll find a sushi restaurant another time. Hush now while we discuss business.”
“Okay.” Eve hummed a little to herself as she looked over the menu in order to polish the impression she was trying to give of complete vapidity. The woman dismissed her with the flick of an eye and turned her attention to Declan.
“I have heard you were once in the employ of a man I very much want to meet.”
He set down his menu to regard the woman. “Since I’ve held a few jobs over the years, you’ll have to be more specific.”
“Of course. It is your most recent boss I am speaking of. Adam Raiker.”
Declan bared his teeth. “Raiker and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms these days. He cut me loose months ago, and burned me for any decent prospects in the future. Sorry. Can’t help facilitate a meeting. Bastard wouldn’t take my calls, much less make time to talk with anyone I recommended to him.”
“That is unfortunate. He sounds like a difficult man.” Something about her intense regard made Eve second-guess her earlier prediction. This wasn’t necessarily a woman who took orders from a higher up. “I, too, have found him difficult, at least to get close to. Perhaps you can help in another way. Why did Raiker, as you say, cut you loose?”
Declan drummed his fingers on the menu. “He’s a suspicious SOB. Paranoid as hell. He was afraid I’d learned too much about his security. I was just trying to make myself indispensable.” He lifted a shoulder. “He’s not one to give the benefit of the doubt.”
“I must say I find your words surprising.” Shuang reached for her water glass, fingers toying with the stem. Her nails were short, Eve noted. Unmanicured. No polish. Nothing about the woman suggested she was overly concerned with looks. Her dark hair was worn straight to brush the tops of her shoulders, without bangs. She wore no makeup, and her simple white cotton blouse was tucked neatly into a pair of black tailored pants. Her face was unwrinkled,
but there was a hardness in her expression that had been etched by experience. She could have been anywhere between her early thirties to mid-forties. “I heard you were caught in an area of his compound where you had no business.”
Declan’s brows skimmed upward. “Did you, now? Raiker’s security consists of layers. I was fired because he thought I was taking too much an interest in how those layers connected.” He sat back in his chair indolently.
“And were you?”
He let her question hang for a long moment before flashing a feral smile. “Yes.”
The woman couldn’t quite hide the flicker of satisfaction on her face. “Then perhaps we can help each other.”
Declan picked up his water glass and saluted her with it. “Perhaps we can.”
The other woman slanted a quick look toward Eve who quickly fell back into character. Twisting around in her seat she scanned the room and asked plaintively, “What happened to our server? I’m starving .”
With a quick wave of her hand, Shuang summoned a waitress who moved immediately in their direction. “Of course. I have been inconsiderate. Please order. Our business can wait.”
Eve certainly hoped that the irritated scowl Declan aimed in her direction was as much a pretense as she was engaged in herself. She prattled on mindlessly to the young server who’d hurried over, dithering between menu options, all the while aware that Shuang’s inscrutable gaze was fixed on her with single-minded focus. She shot the woman a blinding smile. “I’ve already decided what dessert I’ll order later. Declan absolutely abhors when I eat sweets. He’s afraid I’ll get fat.”
“Please bring an assortment of cheese and crackers for Mrs. Gallagher to snack on immediately while her meal is prepared.” There was command couched in the other woman’s request. Declan ordered and looked expectantly at Xie Shuang who shook her head. “I’m afraid I cannot stay to eat. But I would like to continue our conversation while you wait for your lunch, if that meets with your approval.”