Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2

by Carla Cassidy

  “Sure I do.” He sat back on his heels and pulled her foot onto his thigh. “But it’s what I signed up for. If I had wanted to settle down in some cramped house with six kids and work nine to five every day, I would’ve followed in my dad’s footsteps. I, too, could’ve worked in the family business eighty hours a week.”

  Her still-brown eyes glittered and he jerked back from the sparks of anger there. Why did she care if he spurned his parents’ lifestyle? She’d changed since having a kid, but he supposed that was natural. Kids changed you. He saw it over and over with his friends. Not. For. Him.

  “Don’t get me wrong.” He released her foot. “I love my folks and my older brother who stayed to help Dad with the business and will eventually take it over. I love my nieces and nephews. All nine of them—ten, my younger sister just had a baby.”

  “It sounds—” she swiped a hand beneath her nose “—amazing. To have all that family around.”

  “You know, it is.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “One of my nephews cracks me up. He’s always asking the most off-the-wall questions, and one of my nieces is a total tomboy. She plays just as rough as her male cousins, but her sister is a princess who won’t wear anything but pink.”

  Hunching forward, she said, “It sounds like you know them well, like you pay attention to them as people.”

  “Is that surprising? They are people—each one with a unique personality.” He jumped to his feet and brushed off his slacks. “You gotta see that with your own son, even though he’s only...”

  “Two.” She rose from the bed. “Bobby is almost two.”

  Beau drew his brows over his nose. Hadn’t they been together three years ago? She hadn’t wasted any time going back to her lover. He tightened his jaw. “I’m going to get out of this monkey suit and hit the sack. Mission accomplished.”

  “Man dead.”

  “You had nothing to do with that. Let’s just hope Zendaris thinks you did.”

  The following morning, voices from the TV intruded on Deb’s hazy dreams. She burrowed under the pillow, but that failed when Beau started tugging on her feet.

  “Deb, wake up. Wake up. It’s on the news.”

  She rolled over and sat up, squinting at the images on the TV. A reporter was standing in front of the Grand Marquis, yapping into a microphone.

  “What’s he saying? Are they calling it a murder?”

  “The Boston P.D. is going to wait for the autopsy and the toxicology report before making any kind of statement.”

  She grabbed the remote from the foot of the bed and increased the volume.

  A blonde news anchor appeared on the split screen with the reporter. “Do the police have any reason to believe this is foul play, Dave?”

  “No, Charlotte, but they are looking for this woman.”

  The room spun and Deb grabbed the bedspread in her fists as she stared at a grainy photo of herself entering the Marquis Hotel, her black wig hiding half of her face. “Oh, my God.”

  “She was the person dancing with Dr. Herndon when he collapsed. The police would like to talk to her.”

  “I bet they would.” Beau dropped on the bed next to her. “Don’t worry. Nobody is going to link you with that picture.”

  “Maybe whoever poisoned Dr. Herndon was smart enough to make it look like an accident.” She scooted back toward the headboard. “That’s what I would’ve done.”

  He lifted an eyebrow in her direction and clicked off the TV. “Let’s just hope Zendaris saw the same report.”

  Deb reached for the phone charging on the nightstand. “Nothing yet.”

  “You must be more than ready for breakfast after skipping dinner last night, unless you filled up on the appetizers at the party.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I had one shrimp and after what happened to Dr. Herndon, I’m glad I didn’t eat anything else.”

  “I’ll head down to the hotel restaurant and meet you there.” He turned with his hand on the doorknob. “Unless you want me to wait for you. I know you’re a Prospero agent, Deb, but you’re off your game. If you don’t want to be left on your own...”

  “I want my weapon.” She leveled a finger at the closet, housing the room safe where Beau had stashed her .45.

  “Fifty-one, ninety-eight.”

  Before the door even closed behind him, Deb scrambled off the bed and flew to the closet. She tried the combination and a red Open flashed on the display.

  She swung open the door and lifted her gun from the safe. She checked the chamber and blew out a breath. Now she could handle anything.

  She took the gun with her into the bathroom while she showered and dressed. Returning to the room, she scooped up the gown puddled on the floor where she’d dropped it last night. Shaking it out, she noticed a couple of shiny spots on the skirt.

  Gathering the material in her hands, she brought it close to her face and gasped. Blood—dried blood. She stuffed the dress in the closet and slid the mirrored door closed.

  If she had gotten Dr. Herndon outside sooner last night, could she have saved his life? She had no way of knowing. When had someone slipped him the poison? How quickly had the poison acted?

  Fate had taken over last night, and it had been Dr. Herndon’s time to die.

  She stashed her weapon in her bag and left the room to join Beau. She could escape now if she wanted. Nothing stood in her way. She had her gun and the phone connecting her to Zendaris—and her son.

  But she was fooling herself if she didn’t believe Loki would find her. She hadn’t even known he’d been tailing her the first time. What had he said earlier? She was off her game. Yeah, she’d given up the game completely when Zendaris had snatched Bobby.

  That wasn’t the real reason she didn’t bolt. Beau made her feel safe, protected, like she had a chance, like Bobby had a chance.

  And then there was the paternity issue.

  He’d made it clear last night he didn’t have kids in his five-year plan. He’d spoken of his siblings and nieces and nephews in such an offhand manner, but with such warmth. That part gave her hope.

  When the elevator opened on the lobby, she sighed and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. She’d kill to have a large chaotic family like that.

  She spotted the top half of Beau’s face above a newspaper, and weaved through the tables to sit across from him.

  He lowered the paper when she pulled out the chair.

  “Still just on coffee?”

  “I didn’t want to get ahead of you.” He snapped the paper in his hands. “And I wanted to read the coverage of last night.”

  “Big deal?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What’s the tone of the article?”

  He folded the paper and tucked it under a menu. “The reporter is being cautious, but foul play practically screams from every other line in the story.”

  “Is anyone speculating on a motive—anyone but us, that is?”

  “There’s a lot about the symposium and who had a vested interest in the discussions.”

  “No mention of Nico Zendaris?”

  He swirled his coffee. “There never is, is there?”

  “We—” she cleared her throat “—Prospero wants to change that—shine a spotlight on him and his organization.”

  “You’re still part of Prospero, Deb.” He put a finger on a plastic menu and slid it toward her. “The work you’re doing now will benefit Prospero.”

  “Honestly, Beau, I just want to benefit Bobby. I want him home with me.”

  “I know.” He covered her hand with his. “It must be tough. I can’t even imagine what one of my sisters would do if her child was missing, or my brothers for that matter.”

  Or you? Could you imagine what you’d do if a dangerous arms dealer had your son?
r />   Folding her hands in her lap, she looked down. She couldn’t even meet his eyes anymore when talking about Bobby. She had to tell him, but she’d waited so long now it would seem as if she were just trying to light a fire under him to rescue Bobby. He might not even believe her at this point.

  “Do me a favor, Deb, and eat. In fact, I should’ve made that a condition of returning your weapon.” He flipped the menu open in front of her.

  “Why did you return it? With my gun back in my possession and my first task for Zendaris completed, I could’ve hightailed it out of here and finished the work on my own.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think there was much danger of that.”

  “Really?” She didn’t like the sound of this. When people like Loki failed to see her as a threat, she’d definitely lost her edge.

  The waitress stopped by the table, took their order and filled their coffee cups.

  When she left, Beau folded his hands around his cup. “We’re on the same side now. I want to help you get Bobby back. I want to help you get your life back, whether or not that’s with Prospero.”

  Or you?

  The words came out of left field and she covered her mouth with one hand as if she’d uttered them aloud. When did she ever believe she’d have a life with Beau? He was committed to life on the road, a rootless existence that didn’t tie him down to the drudgery of family and hearth and home.

  He’d had all of that with his big warm middle-class family. And he’d rejected it.

  “Why? Why are you so willing to help me when you could’ve bagged me at that hotel and had me back at Prospero headquarters a few hours later? You could’ve collected your bonus, which I’m sure Jack was offering for a speedy delivery, and been on to your next assignment.”

  “Obviously, I need to give you more reassurance.” He held up the index finger of one hand and reached into his back pocket with the other. He flipped open his wallet and a plastic insert cascaded down to the table.

  Children of different ages, some babies, some toothless, some freckled and towheaded grinned at her from the shiny plastic. “The ten nieces and nephews?”

  “Nine. I haven’t put the newest one in the lineup yet.”

  Deb trailed her finger along the smiling faces and halted at one blond boy who made her heart skip a beat. “Who’s this one?”

  “That’s Grant. He’s my brother’s boy.”

  Deb gulped. Grant could be Bobby’s twin. Hadn’t Beau seen the resemblance between her own son and his nephew? Or had he just seen a scared boy who looked tired?

  God, Bobby had looked tired. Were they feeding him properly? Drugging him?

  Her appetite evaporated, and she released the plastic insert. It swung over the table like a pendulum. “Cute kids.”

  “I’m sorry. That was probably an insensitive thing to do.”

  “Not at all. You want to help me and Bobby because my son reminds you of your nieces and nephews. I get it.”

  He cocked his head and two vertical lines formed between his eyebrows. “Reminds me? I don’t know your son, but any child in danger is gonna tug at my heartstrings. Are you surprised I have heartstrings? Whatever those are. Are you surprised Loki has a heart?”

  “I know Loki has a heart. I fell asleep to it beating beneath my cheek that night.”

  A smile played around his mouth as the waitress delivered their food. When she left, he squirted some ketchup on his plate and his smile widened. “I thought reference to that night was off-limits.”

  “It’s going to come up, isn’t it?” And it’s so much more important than you know, Beau. “It happened. We saw each other in the buff, we made love, we shared the shower.”

  “Stop.” He made a cross in the air with his fork and knife. “I’m going to attempt to eat my breakfast without drooling.”

  She grinned and attacked her own plate. On one level she wanted to feel sad and anxious over Bobby every minute of the day to keep her focus, but on another, with Beau to lighten her load, she felt human and more capable of being the kind of mother Bobby needed right now.

  The kind of mother who could kick ass.

  Then the white elephant on the table, the cell phone from Zendaris, buzzed twice. Deb wiped her hands on her napkin and hit the button to read the incoming text.

  Beau hunched forward, his silverware clattering in his plate. “What’s it say?”

  She turned the phone toward him. “Good kill.”

  Chapter Nine

  “That’s a good thing, Deb.” He nodded once and dug into his omelet, not wanting to acknowledge Zendaris’s power to rattle Deb. “He believes you killed Dr. Herndon. That’s what we want.”

  “But what does he want?” She dropped the phone on the table and tapped it. “Why the cryptic message? Why doesn’t he just tell me what to do?”

  “Because he’s toying with you. Don’t let him get under your skin. That’s exactly what he wants.”

  She choked and gulped her coffee. “He has my son. That’s about as far as someone can get under my skin.”

  “He’ll tell you what to do next, don’t worry. And when he does—” Beau stabbed a chunk of potato and held it up “—you’re going to have another demand for him.”

  “I am?”

  “You’re in the driver’s seat right now. You killed a man. You just showed you’re tough enough. Now he needs to deliver on his end before you proceed.”

  “Bobby. I want to see Bobby again, make sure he’s okay.”

  “This time you’re going to talk to Bobby. He’s going to have to put him on the phone and let you hear his voice.”

  Beau’s words filled Deb with strength. She didn’t like feeling helpless. Who did? But for her, those vulnerable feelings sucked her back to her childhood, before Robert had come into her life like a guardian angel.

  She didn’t want to go back to that dark place again. Now here was another guardian angel in the unlikely form of a tall, lean, dangerous spy. And he gave her hope and courage. That’s what Bobby needed right now.

  “Bring it on, Zendaris.” She flicked the phone with her fingers. Then she finished her breakfast—every last bite.

  On the way up to the room, Beau asked, “Do you want to work out at the gym with me?”

  She stopped at the door. “How did you know that’s exactly what I needed?”

  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he dug his fingers into the base of her neck, sending shivers down her back. He knew exactly what she needed.

  “I think it’s time for you to get your mojo back.”

  “Is that why you returned my gun?”

  “That and the fact that someone is running around Boston who seems to be on the same track as you. You need to be able to protect yourself.”

  She turned toward the door with Beau’s hands still on her shoulders and slipped her card in the slot. “What if Zendaris finds out that someone else killed Dr. Herndon?”

  “That’s not going to happen. Why would it unless the killer himself tells Zendaris? I don’t think he’s going to want to broadcast that because Zendaris will see him as a rival. And we know what Zendaris does to rivals.”

  Once in the room, Deb changed into some makeshift workout clothes—her jeans from yesterday and a T-shirt and tennis shoes.

  Beau put on the shorts and T-shirt he’d worn to the gym before and plucked the material of the shirt from his chest. “If Zendaris keeps you dangling much longer, I’m going to have to go home and pack a bag.”

  “Where is home?”

  “An apartment in D.C.”

  “We don’t live far from each other. I have a small house in the burbs of Virginia.” To think all this time, Bobby had been close to his father. It would be convenient once Beau knew. He and Bobby could see each other. He could spend time wit
h Bobby between assignments.

  She slid a glance at Beau as he punched the elevator button. “I—I suppose a house in the suburbs sounds like torture to you.”

  “To me, but a kid needs that. Kids need space and greenery and—” he waved his arm “—all that stuff.”

  “All the stuff you had and didn’t appreciate.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the inside of the elevator car. “Who said I didn’t appreciate it?”

  “What would you call it, then? By your own account, you graduated from high school, enlisted in the Marines and started training for the most dangerous missions.”

  “I’d call it—” he swiped his card to unlock the door to the gym “—a thirst for adventure.”

  “And have you slaked that thirst yet?” She grabbed a towel from the counter and hung it over her shoulder.

  “Did you slake yours?”

  She spread her towel on a bench and straddled it. “It wasn’t a matter of slaking. I didn’t have a choice. I have a son to care for, so I had to scale back.”

  “Exactly.” He ran a hand along a row of dumbbells and grabbed one, hoisting it from its cradle. “When circumstances change, you make the necessary changes in your life.”

  He curled the weight up to his shoulder. “Now are you going to keep talking or pump some iron?”

  She snorted. “My friend and I back home can do both.”

  “Men just grunt.”

  They continued to work out, exchanging snippets of conversation and a few grunts.

  Deb stretched out on a mat, feeling a pleasant ache in her muscles. A workout couldn’t relieve all her stress, but it had helped.

  Then the cell phone buzzed.

  She snatched it up and glanced at Beau doing flys on a machine. A few other guests had joined them in the gym, so she didn’t want to yell across the floor.

  She answered the phone. “Yes?”

  The hated voice purred in her ear. “Good job, Deb. I knew the agents of Prospero Team Three were killers, and you didn’t disappoint.”

  “We didn’t know your wife was there.”