by Kylie Brant
“We were partially introduced to the three men I worked with today,” Declan told him. Eve pushed away from the table and he watched her leave the transaction room as he told Raiker the names he’d been given. “We haven’t seen the driver of the car from when they tried to snatch us off the street. And Malsovic has made himself scarce.”
“He’s around.” Eve’s voice was muffled in the adjoining room as she stuck her head into the safe and withdrew with her fist closed around something. “I saw him today.”
“You and I have a bit to catch up on, it would appear.” It took effort to keep his voice mild. But there was nothing mild about the froth of emotion warring within him. Its intensity was alarming. Quite possibly chauvinistic, and he wasn’t a chauvinist. He’d worked with partners before. Wouldn’t have blinked an eye if any one of them had divided up the necessary tasks on a mission they were embarked on. So there was no reason—none at all—for the knowledge of the danger Eve had put herself in today to fill him with this degree of apprehension.
“Do that. And don’t forget the security measures I mentioned.” The screen went black with Raiker’s typical abruptness. Declan watched Eve approach him again and open her hand to show him two objects in her palm.
“This one must be yours.” She held out a small silver circular tie clasp with an ornately worked G in the center. He eyed it doubtfully.
“Might seem sort of odd if I show up wearing a suit and tie tomorrow.”
“No need.” She hitched a hip on the table close to him and leaned forward, pushing aside his opened coat. “If you don’t wear a shirt with a pocket tomorrow you can just leave it in a jeans pocket, I suppose.” Her fingers were nimble as she undid the first three buttons of his shirt, the backs of them brushing his skin. His flesh heated beneath her touch. He clenched his jaw at the involuntary reaction. With a few deft moves she had the pin hidden inside the pocket, with the safety clasp on the inside of his shirt against his chest. She straightened, leaving him to rebutton his shirt himself, for which he was grateful. His fingers felt thick. Clumsy. And he found himself wishing that she’d move away from her perch on the table near him.
“Oh, cool.” She held the remaining item out to show him. The embedded GPS device was attached to a hairpin. Eve lifted her hair and slipped it in above her nape, then dropped her arms to let the blond waves cascade to her shoulders again.
The room was getting warm. Or else he was. Declan bolted upright from his chair and slid the laptop further down the table so he could shut it off. “Did you put the pen in the safety deposit box to be retrieved for prints?”
Her expression wary, she nodded.
“Good.” He was aware that her gaze didn’t leave him as he rounded the table and replaced the computer in the safe, closing and locking it.
“You seem…tense.”
“I get that way when my partner withholds information.” He straightened from the crouched position in front of the box and turned down the door.
“I didn’t withhold anything.” There was a tinge of temper in her tone that he hadn’t heard there before. “I just didn’t have time to tell you everything on the way. I still haven’t, but that doesn’t mean I’ve hatched a big conspiracy to keep you in the dark. We need to talk.”
“We do indeed.” There was something supremely annoying about knowing he was acting like an ass and still being unable to do anything to change it. “You can start by telling me about this.” He dug the earring out of his pocket and held it up to show her.
“Oh, thank God.” Her shoulders slumped in obvious relief. “Where did you find it?”
“By my chair,” he said, a savage edge to his tone as she took it from him. “But the more important question is where could you have lost it? On a floor you had no business being on. Or worse, in Shuang’s office. If it had been found there it would have screwed us for the rest of this assignment.” She’d taken the other earring out he noted now and was spending an inordinate amount of time placing the one he’d given her in a zippered pocket in her purse.
“You’re right. It would have made our situation a bit…untenable.” Her smile didn’t make it to her eyes. “But on the bright side, this saves me a trip to Shuang’s office tomorrow to look for it. As it is, I’ll forgo jewelry tomorrow.”
Just the thought of her making another foray into Shuang’s space glazed his veins with ice. “That’s a start. You can fill me in on the rest of your day on the way to the hospital.”
“I never said…”
His smile was grim. “No, you didn’t. Figured that one out on my own, too. Not rocket science, of course, after last night. You’ve been in touch with your family today?” She trailed behind him out of the transaction room and across the bank lobby.
“I…yes. I spoke to my mother this morning and again this afternoon when I was out of the hotel room. My father had more tests and received good news. They were even considering releasing him today except he started running a slight fever.”
He held the front door of the bank open for her to pass then followed her through it. He almost welcomed the slap of cold air. Maybe it would clear his head of the unfamiliar turmoil filling it.
Jamming his hands in his pockets, he looked around for a cab. The street was snarled with traffic and would be until the rush hours—plural—were over. “We might need to take a bus.” He glanced at Eve to find her looking fixedly across the street. Catching his gaze on her, she moved closer to his side.
“Under the striped awning over there. He just dodged into the doorway. Do you see him?”
Declan drew his phone out of his pocket and pretended to be texting. It took another minute for the shadow to unfold from its hiding place again, then duck back quickly. “Not well enough to recognize him.”
“It’s the one who held the gun on us when they tried to snatch us off the street.” She tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow and they began to move slowly down the walk. “I saw him talking to Malsovic today at the hotel.”
It had already become readily apparent that her day had been much more fruitful than his. And a helluva lot riskier. The knowledge did nothing to relieve the vise in his chest. “Shuang seems to have a relatively small group of men in her employ.” And none were particularly well-versed in the art of a tail. “Smaller since they failed to abduct Royce. I wonder if we’ve seen all of them now.”
“She knew where we were going. I told her.” At his sidelong glance she muttered, “Long story. But she knew we were going to a bank because I spun some long account of our house woes …”
“It’s no problem.” With a surreptitious look across the street he saw the man was staying a several yards behind them, remaining close to the shelter of the buildings. “She’s had someone tailing us ever since we met with her for the first time. And the bank cover holds.”
“The problem,” she said with inflection, “is what to do about him now. I’m not about to lead him to the hospital where my parents are.”
“You won’t have to.” Outwitting the doofus who’d attempted to kidnap them might give him an outlet for the temper that had lodged in his gut earlier that showed no signs of dissipating. “Let’s have a little fun with this.” He steered her closer to the buildings, lingering before storefronts adorned with Christmas finery. Their pace slowed, as if window shopping. After several minutes she hunched further into her coat and blew out a breath. A cloud of condensation immediately formed on the plate glass in front of her.
“What part of this is supposed to be fun?”
“It is a little cold,” he acknowledged. The only positive was that the man trailing them was just as chilled. And Declan had been on enough surveillance ops to know that physical discomfort often led to sloppy mistakes. “I suppose it was too much to ask for a toy store to be located in the area. I’m actually in need of another gift for Sadie. What the hell is a Teeter
Popper?”
She smiled. “I’m not sure, but I’m certain I can find it online for you.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.” He watched their tail’s reflection in the window in front of them. “Let’s go inside here.”
He pulled open the door to a women’s clothing store, ushered her in. She looked around unenthusiastically. “Are we supposed to be stalling? Because I’d prefer to wait in another bakery.”
“Not surprising.” He steered her to a rack of clothes on the wall out of view of the window. “Anyway…shopping. How painful can it be?”
“About equal to being beat repeatedly in the head with a golf club.”
“You don’t enjoy shopping.” Declan found that if he backed up a few feet he had an excellent view of the opposite walk. But he was unable to see their tail. Wait. There was a flash of movement as the man darted a couple buildings closer.
“It’s not innate to the gender.” It might have been his imagination that she sounded a bit defensive. “Just like every man doesn’t necessarily have to like sports.”
His tone was absent. “What’s not to like about sports?” A sales clerk was bearing down on them, her smile as plastic and bright as the artificial tree in the corner. “Stay away from the window,” he told Eve, and headed toward the back of the store, looking for another exit. Was gratified when he found one. Slipping outside, he walked down the alley half a block to where it opened to the street. He turned right and made note of the name and address of the first storefront there before heading back toward the women’s clothing store where he’d left Eve.
The sales clerk he’d seen minutes ago had a stack of clothes over her arms and was herding her down a hallway toward dressing rooms. He ambled to the front counter, which spotlighted him for anyone with a view of the window. Pretending an interest in perfumes he found there, Declan watched for their tail.
He almost thought the man had given up. But after a few minutes he caught sight of him inside a cigar store directly across the street. He’d followed their lead in getting out of the bone chilling cold and had found a warmer place to wait.
“Mr. Gallagher.” It was the store clerk, smiling prettily. “Your wife has asked that you come back closer to the dressing rooms so you can see some of the outfits I put together for her.”
“Really?” Intrigued, he pushed away from the counter. Maybe Eve had overcome her stated aversion to shopping. And since they had time to kill, Declan could think of worse ways to do it than to watch Eve Larrison waltz around in the newest fashions.
Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he found the number for the cab company they’d used last night and called it. He dropped down in one of the chairs discreetly placed near the curtained dressing rooms while he made arrangements for a taxi to pick them up at the address he’d selected around the corner in the alley, instructing them to call him when the cab was in place.
He’d no sooner returned his cell to his pocket than Eve’s face popped out of the second dressing room down. “Declan!” she hissed. There was a measure of panic in her expression he’d never seen there before. “She’s making me try on clothes!”
“It’s no problem,” he responded in Scottish Gaelic. “We haven’t lost our tail, but we’ll give him the slip in a bit. Go ahead. We’ve got a bit of time.”
“I don’t want to go ahead, you dunce! Get me out of here!”
“Do you need help?” The dark haired clerk sailed toward them. “Can I get you a different size in anything?”
“No!” Eve ducked back inside the dressing room. Her voice grew muffled. “No, thank you. I’m doing just fine.”
Declan grinned. She hadn’t been kidding earlier. She really did seem to despise shopping. It wasn’t his favorite pastime, but he didn’t approach it with the abject terror that Eve seemed to. He settled more comfortably into his seat and hooked an ankle across one knee. Given her reaction it’d be downright cruel to consider this payback for the bad moments she’d put him through today. But there was no denying that the next few minutes were likely going to prove unusually entertaining.
_______
Stepping inside the strip club, he squinted in the shadowy interior. Spotting his contact, he made his way across the room. Rick Sorenson was seated near the stage, in almost the same spot he’d been the first time Malsovic had followed him from the nursing home six weeks earlier. Approaching the younger man, he pulled out a chair next to him. Sat.
“Your text said you had news,” he started without preamble.
“Hey, Sergei.” Because of course Malsovic had not given him the name he was using these days. Sorenson raised his half full beer in a salute without taking his eyes off the gyrating woman on stage. “Yeah, I think I heard something today you’re really going to be interested in.” He tore his gaze away from the stripper longer enough to repeat, “Really interested.”
“Hopefully it is of more interest than any of the other information you have shared.” His patience with the man was nearing an end. He’d stumbled on Royce Benning’s daughter by accident months ago, but every bit of information he’d gleaned since then had been due to diligence and hard work. Discovering that Jaid Raiker had a mother had been a nugget of information he’d been massaging for months, hoping it would pay off and somehow lead him to the boy.
But the old lady had been stuck in a nursing home since he’d tracked her down and despite his cultivation of Sorenson, knowing the location of Patricia Marlowe still hadn’t borne fruit. “You want a beer?” The young man swiveled in his chair to summon a waitress. “You have to order something now that you’re here.”
“Tell me your news.” But Malsovic had to wait for the skimpily clad server to come and take his order before the man beside him finally responded. “So I’ve been paying a lot of attention to that old bat. Patricia Marlowe. Been extra nice to her, which believe me isn’t easy since the woman can be a real pain in the ass.”
“I told you to give others there the same treatment,” Malsovic reminded him. The security posted around the elderly woman would surely scrutinize everyone their client came in contact with. They would have run a background check on all the workers at the rest home, including Sorenson, one of the Certified Nursing Assistants often assigned to the woman’s care. Had they found anything when they’d done so, Sorenson would have been removed by now. But if he acted as though he were trying to curry favor with the woman it would be a red flag to the people protecting her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve told you, I have been. But old lady Marlowe seems to like me, at least as much as she does most people. And today she told me she’s leaving soon.”
Malsovic stilled. Here at last was something worthy of sharing. “When? And going where?”
The stripper’s routine ended and Sorenson applauded enthusiastically. “Soon. A day or two she said. And she said she was going to join her family.” His pause then was meaningful. “I figure you might be interested, seeing’s how she has only spoken to her daughter on video chat as long as she’s been there.”
“I am.” Malsovic sat back in his chair as the waitress returned to set a beer down in front of him. He dug in his pocket for his wallet and held out a ten. When she snatched it from him and turned away he knew not to expect change. American women. There was a dangerous burn in his chest as he spent a moment watching her wend her way through the tables. All of them seemed to have a sense of entitlement far above their station in life.
“So I spun this whole big story about how much I was going to miss her, and how I hoped she stayed in touch. Laid it on thicker than usual, because those guys usually hanging close to her room weren’t around to hear.” The young man’s attention was snared then by the announcement of the next stripper coming on stage, but after a moment he glanced back at Malsovic. “I was hoping to get her to tell me where she was going, you know so I could pass that on. But instead she says to me, ‘May
be you can accompany me, Richard. I won’t require trained nursing care, but it would be nice to have a familiar face help me with my exercises.’” He sat back in his chair, reached for his beer.
Malsovic leaned closer. “What did you say?”
Sorenson took a gulp from his glass and set it on the table again. “What I figured you’d want me to say. That I’d love to. That I’d get the time off if she wanted. Blah blah blah. Pure suck up time, right? I asked where she’d be going and she said she couldn’t tell anyone that. But if I didn’t mind going on a mystery trip with her, she was certain her daughter would arrange it if the old bat insisted. Then one of those bodyguards came in the room and I dropped it. Didn’t want him to get the idea I’d been pumping the old lady.” He looked at Malsovic then and his tone faltered. “Thought you’d be happy about this.”
Baring his teeth, Malsovic said, “This is me. Happy. You did well. Better than I had hoped.” He reached for his wallet again and took out a hundred. Slid it across the table to the man. “There will be much more coming if you can find out for sure when she is leaving. How she will travel.” He couldn’t bank on the fact that the CNA would actually get to go with the woman. That would require a stroke of luck that had largely been absent from his life thus far.
The performer began a trick that had the tassels dangling from her breasts spinning in opposite directions. Malsovic was certain he’d lost Sorenson’s attention for good. His chair scraped back as he stood. “Contact me immediately tomorrow with what you find out.”
Mouth open slightly, Sorenson only nodded. Turning on his heel, Malsovic strode quickly away, scarcely able to control his exuberance. The Americans had a saying: to catch a break. He knew this was his. At the very least Sorenson would be able to discover a release date for the old woman. Once that was known, her car could be followed. He could verify what Gallagher was telling them about the location of the boy.