The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles)

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The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles) Page 21

by C. D. Hersh


  Fiona’s face went white. “What?” She slung her purse on her shoulder and scurried to Kyle’s side. “You can’t,” she said to Mike. Then she spun to face Kyle. “He’s too busy. Lots of things to do here at the office. Besides, I don’t think party security is Mike’s thing.”

  The words flew out of her mouth like shot from a scattergun. Mike studied her as she plucked at the stitches on her purse straps. Something was wrong. She was scared witless about his being at this party.

  Suspicion crawled over him like maggots on a dead body. What was she hiding?

  “No,” he said slowly, as he pinned her with a hard stare. “I enjoy parties. After what happened last night, I think Kyle’s right. There should be lots of extra security at a party the two of you are attending. We don’t know who the second shooter was after. He should be cautious.”

  “Attending?” she repeated. The panic on her face melted into confusion then to calm. “Oh, I see.”

  Mike stared at her. What the hell was going on?

  Kyle held out his hand and Mike grasped it. “Thanks, Mike. Sorry to hire and run but we’ve got a ring to buy before the party.” Kyle looped his arm in Fiona’s, and she slipped out of his grip.

  “For his girlfriend,” she said, looking directly at Mike.

  Mike saw Kyle’s mouth open then shut, as if he’d thought twice about what he started to say.

  “I should follow,” Mike suggested as doubts assailed him.

  “No. No.” She grabbed Kyle and hauled him toward the door. “You take care of the computer. I’ll call George.”

  As the door shut behind the pair, Mike knew she would not contact George. He dialed his associate on his cell. “George, is the tracker we put on Fiona’s car activated?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Follow her. She and Morrison are up to something, and I want to know what.”

  Chapter 28

  Twenty minutes into his security check foray into Fiona’s computer, Mike found spyware. A big, bad piece of spyware that touched not only her computer, but at least half a dozen others. He wrote the IP addresses of the affected systems on a sticky note then tried to follow the virus on Fiona’s machine to its source. As he backtracked something seemed familiar about the process, but he couldn’t pin it down. He hit a firewall which he dismantled easily. A piece of code flashed on the screen then disappeared as another firewall popped up. Mike jotted the line down and tried to break through the next firewall without success.

  Frustrated, he reclined in the chair and studied his note. Then he remembered. A snippet of computer code had flashed on his laptop when he’d been tracking the shell companies Rhys had given him. He checked the notebook where he’d written his research. The encryptions matched.

  Shifters? Spying on Fiona’s company?

  His cell rang.

  “Mike,” George said, when he’d answered, “has Fiona left yet?”

  “About half an hour ago.” Rocks jostled in Mike’s stomach, and he bolted upright in the chair. “Has something happened?”

  “Her car hasn’t moved.”

  The rocks diminished to pebbles. “They must have gone in Morrison’s car.” So much for tracking his slippery client. “They said something about hunting for a ring for his girlfriend. Check the upscale jewelers.”

  “Geez, Mike, that really narrows it down. There must be hundreds of jewelers in the city.”

  “Quit bellyaching. I’m talking really exclusive. Lock the door, need a background check exclusive. The wad of bills he pulled out could have choked a dinosaur.”

  “Why was he flashing cash at you?”

  “He hired me for an event.”

  “What kind of event?” George asked, his voice suspicious.

  “A party. Probably for this girlfriend he’s buying a ring for. I don’t have the details yet.”

  A long pause came over the line. “I’m supposed to get into this store how?” George finally asked.

  “Just find them and tail them, George.” Mike started to hang up then added, “When you find them, put a tracker on his car. We may have vetted the guy, but I don’t trust him.”

  George snorted. The sound skittered on Mike’s last nerve, confirming his fears. His employee obviously didn’t trust Kyle either.

  Fiona, Fiona. What are you involved in?

  Mike hung up and dialed Mary Kate. If shifters were spying on Fiona he would need backup of a special sort at Morrison’s party.

  As soon as they exited the car at the jewelry store, shifter tingles flooded over Fiona. Glancing around in the direction the sensations came from, she saw an elegantly dressed woman exit a luxury sedan double-parked behind them.

  Kyle gave his keys to the valet then held out a card to the attendant at the front door of the store. The door opened and the store employee waved them in. The woman from the double-parked car did the same and followed them into the store.

  Prickles crept over Fiona’s body, stronger now. Who was the shifter? Had she been following them? A bump on her shoulder jolted her from behind.

  “Pardon me, my dear,” the shifter said. “How terribly clumsy of me. Are you hurt?”

  Fiona whirled around and stared into the woman’s eyes. Kyle followed her motion. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to relax. She’d recognize those my dears anywhere. Then she mouthed, out of Kyle’s view, “What are you doing here, Falhman?”

  Falhman smiled, the expression clearly warning her to play along. “I’m glad I didn’t hurt you, my dear.”

  Kyle laced his fingers in hers as he faced the woman. “No harm done, right, darling?” He raised Fiona’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, gripping it so tightly she could not escape.

  “What an adorable couple you are,” Falhman gushed.

  “Thanks,” Kyle replied. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have an engagement ring to buy.”

  Falhman twittered, and Fiona gaped at him. He played women really well.

  “How exciting. Well, congratulations, you two lovebirds. I wish you the best, my dears.” Then he minced off on three-inch heels toward one of the jewelry cases.

  “Why did you tell her about us?” Fiona asked Kyle.

  “You didn’t recognize her?”

  “You did?” she asked. How did Kyle know Falhman?

  “She’s Heda Gurley. Gossip columnist for the society page. The news of the engagement will be all over the place.”

  Before she had a chance to tell Mike herself? Panic slugged her then melted away. It was Falhman, not Heda. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It only partially worked. The society pages might not blurt out the news before she could tell Mike, but she had to worry about why Falhman was trailing her.

  At the jewelry counter, Kyle picked out the most ostentatious ring he could find and slid it on her finger. As she held her hand out examining the stone, she caught a glimpse of the clerk, his eyes registering the commission he’d get from the giant rock. She tugged off the ring and set it on the counter.

  “Too big and too expensive.” She pointed to a smaller, more conservative diamond. “How about this one?” It was demure enough to slip past Mike without raising suspicion.

  Kyle chose a smaller set than the first, but big enough to draw attention to her hand. “Show us the groom’s matching band.”

  The clerk removed the three-piece set. Kyle slipped the engagement ring and wedding band on her finger, then placed the matching band on his finger. She had to admit, he had good taste in diamonds. If it had been Mike and her choosing rings, she’d go for this set. It had the right amount of diamonds on the man’s band to be classy. Almost of its own volition, her hand rose in front of her as she admired the rings.

  “Sold!” Kyle exclaimed.

  She turned to protest, but the expression o
n his face told her there would be no more negotiations.

  “Shall I box the engagement ring as well?” the clerk asked.

  “No. She’s already agreed to marry me. She’ll wear it home.”

  Falhman, aka Heda, rushed over at Kyle’s declaration. “May I see the ring, my dear?” he crooned. Without waiting for her agreement, he snatched her hand.

  Zings of prickles ran across her arm at his touch. She struggled to keep from fidgeting.

  “Excellent choice, my dear. Not too big. Not too little. But just right.”

  His words and the expression he shot her made Fiona feel as if she was Goldilocks, invading the three bears’ home. Caught in a predicament destined to not end well. Remembering Kyle’s warning that they had to make everyone believe, she pasted a giant grin on her face and leaned into Kyle. His arm snaked around her, fingertips gripping her waist as he dropped a kiss on her cheek.

  “And the big announcement?” Falhman asked. “Has it happened already?”

  Remembering Kyle thought Falhman was a society gossip columnist, Fiona jumped in before her fiancé could speak and spill news she didn’t want the shifter to know. “Soon,” she said.

  “We’re having an engagement party,” Kyle said. “Perhaps you’d like an invitation.”

  “That would be lovely,” Falhman said.

  “We’ll send you one,” Fiona interjected. “As soon as we know the date.” The clerk returned with the receipt and the wedding bands. Fiona snatched them and yanked Kyle toward the door.

  “Ta ta, my dear,” Falhman called after them. “I’ll look forward to the invitation.”

  “You’re getting the hang of it,” Kyle said as he handed her into the car. “I’ll get Heda’s address for the invitation.”

  Fiona sank against the car seat. It didn’t matter who they invited. Falhman would find a way to crash the party. If she knew him, he would not come alone. “Do we really have to have a big engagement party?” she asked. “Why not elope and get it over with?”

  “Morrisons don’t elope. Mother will insist on a big party. Rule number one in the Morrison family: don’t go against Mother’s wishes.”

  Great. Now she had three terrors to placate. Falhman, OmniWorld, and Mother Morrison.

  “What’s the problem?” Mary Kate asked when she arrived at the coffee shop where she’d agreed to meet Mike.

  “Remember the client I mentioned when we were coming back from Scotland?”

  “The one involved with the shifters?”

  “Yes. I think I know who the shifter is.”

  All interest, she sat across from him. “From the look on yer face, I’d say he’s not a good shifter.”

  “It’s Falhman,” Mike said.

  She stifled a gasp. “Yer sure?”

  “I found a piece of computer code in some spyware on my client’s computer. I also found the same code in one of the shell companies Rhys suspected Falhman of owning. She’s also mixed up with a company named OmniWorld.”

  Mary Kate frowned. “Who’s the client?”

  “Fiona Kayler.”

  Mary Kate pitched against the chair back. “She’s Rhys’ sister.”

  “What?”

  “And he warned her about OmniWorld before he left Cleveland.”

  “She didn’t take his advice.”

  Mary Kate rose. “We need to let the rest know. If she’s dealing with OmniWorld, she could be in grave danger.”

  Mike followed her lead. “Not could be . . . is. Someone took another shot at her the other night.” He removed Kyle’s business card from his pocket. “Before we tell the others I want you to come with me on a job interview. I need your special skills to check out someone else my client is involved with.” He dialed his phone. “Morrison, it’s Mike Corritore. Can we meet today to discuss particulars of the job?” Mike nodded, then said, “I’ll be there in half an hour.” He thumbed off his phone. “How does a working lunch at a fancy downtown restaurant sound?”

  Mary Kate shrugged. “Why not?”

  The second they stepped in the restaurant, Mary Kate laid her hand on Mike’s forearm, stopping his advancement. “We have shifters,” she whispered as she slipped behind a potted palm.

  “Where?” Mike asked.

  “There.” She pointed. “At the table with the redheaded woman and the blond man.”

  “My client and Kyle Morrison? Morrison’s a shifter?”

  Mary Kate squinted her eyes and studied the pair. “No. She is.”

  Mike’s heart pounded like a battering ram. He was in love with a shifter? “You’re sure?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Good or rogue?”

  “Hard to say. She’s got some black in her aura, but not much.”

  “Aura? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Shifter intuition,” Mary Kate said noncommittally.

  “Then why can’t you tell if she’s rogue or good?” Fiona couldn’t be a rogue—one of the lot who’d stolen the boys? Could she? “I thought you people could ferret out your own kind.”

  “We people,” Mary Kate said with indignation, “are complex. We don’t always fit into neat categories.”

  “What can you tell me?” Anxiety rose in him, twisting like smoke on a capricious wind. Mary Kate had to give him something to go on. If Fiona wasn’t in league with the rogues maybe he could learn to get used to the shifter stuff. After all, Mary Kate wasn’t bad, and Rhys seemed like an upstanding guy. He could learn to like her. Learn to like them.

  “She’s anxious. About as anxious as you are right now.”

  He drew away from her. “How can you tell?”

  “We people have our ways, which at the moment, I’m not inclined to tell ye. She’s probably new to the shifting world since she didn’t sense me as quickly as I did her.”

  “Could be a good thing, right?”

  Mary Kate studied him. “She’s important to ye, isn’t she?”

  Important? In the short time he’d known her, she had become more than important. He needed her, not just physically, but emotionally.

  “Are you doing your thing on me?” he asked. “Whatever that is.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have to. It’s written all over ye.”

  “She’s my client. I’m concerned about her.” When Mary Kate’s gaze remained the same, he added, “Besides, you know how I feel about shifters.”

  “Aye, I do. Ye don’t care for them much, except maybe her.” A slender index finger aimed at Fiona. “If she’s consorting with the likes of Falhman, ye’d be better off forgetting her, Butch. There’s better fruit on the vine waiting for ye to pick.”

  Something about the way she said the last line made him switch his focus to Mary Kate. As he did, her eyes softened and her lips parted slightly. His stomach lurched as the meaning of her words hit him. She was into him. Giving him an open invitation.

  Holding out his hand to ward off her attentions, he said, “I’m not jumping from the frying pan into the fire, Red. You’re off limits.” He cut his gaze to Fiona, and his heart tore in his chest. Unfortunately, so was she. At least until he could figure out how she was involved with the rogues.

  “What do ye plan to do? Expose her?”

  “Exposing the fact I know about her doesn’t gain me anything. Doesn’t gain us anything in our search for Falhman. If she’s working with him she’d shield him. I’ll play along with her, for the time being.”

  “Will ye dump her?” Her eyes glinted with hope at the second suggestion.

  He switched his focus to Fiona and Morrison in time to see Kyle lean over the table and plant a big kiss on Fiona’s mouth. She leaned in toward him, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. A prism of light flashed from her ring
finger, sending his heart plummeting to the floor. She was the girlfriend they had shopped for.

  He’d broken the cardinal rule he’d lived by-don’t get involved-for this woman. On that stupid dance floor, he’d lost himself. Trying to get information out of her backfired, and she’d pulled humanity back into him. She’d picked the locked box where he trapped his emotions . . . good and bad. Now he’d discovered she was a shifter and belonged to another man. God, what an idiot he was. “You can’t dump what you don’t have,” he said. “You stay here. If you can sense her, she’ll be able to sense you if you get close enough. I’ll go meet the lovebirds alone.”

  Mary Kate laid her hand on his arm, stopping him. He stared pointedly at her fingers until she removed them. She nodded toward the still-smooching couple. “Sorry, Butch.”

  He brushed her aside. Her words may have been compassionate, but the hungry stare she gave him wasn’t. Whether he wanted it or not, he had a sinking feeling the fire was about to engulf the frying pan.

  Chapter 29

  “Hello, Fiona.”

  When she heard his voice, Fiona jerked free of Kyle’s kiss. “Mike,” she said breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”

  He pointed at her left hand. “I see congratulations are in order.”

  Kyle hauled a chair from the table beside theirs then dragged Fiona’s seat next to his as easily as if she wasn’t even seated. “Take a load off, Corritore.”

  Mike sat, his gaze cutting between Kyle and Fiona. The man was cool as artisan spring water. Fiona, however, fidgeted in her seat as if she perched on hot coals.

  Mike pinned her with a stare. “You were the girlfriend you mentioned at the office. Hmm. I had no idea. If you’d have told us sooner, I wouldn’t have had as much trouble vetting Morrison.”

 

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