“Why? Why do you need to work? I’m a wealthy man, Jessica. I can provide you with everything you need. I can give you everything you want. I like taking care of my women.”
Control. That’s what it boiled down to. He liked being in complete control and a woman with her own job, with her own financial means was too independent for his taste.
“It’s not in my nature to just take, Adam,” she said softly, hoping she wasn’t overplaying her hand. “That’s just not the kind of woman I am. I like to work for my keep.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I could help with the housework. I’m sure there’s plenty to do in a place this size.”
“Nonsense,” he exclaimed, obviously appalled by her suggestion. “I will not have you working like a common laborer.”
His protest was exactly what she’d hoped for. “Then maybe I could do some secretarial work for you…you know, type up letters and things like that. I worked as a secretary when I was supporting myself and Jimmy.”
She reached across the table and covered his hand with her own. “Please…let me do something. I’d love to quit the club, but I won’t unless you let me do something to earn my keep.”
He curled his fingers around hers and squeezed. “You are something else, Jessica Sinclair. I’ll take you up on your offer of secretarial services. I always have correspondence and business letters that need to be typed.”
Yes, she thought with excitement. This was better than she could have hoped for…real access to his computer. “Thank you,” she said fervently.
“No, thank you,” he replied. “After lunch I’ll give Jackson a call and tell him you won’t be coming to work for him anymore.”
No more waitressing and access to the computer without fear. Getting the information she needed should be a piece of cake. There was nothing more she wanted than to get that information and get the hell away from Adam Mercer.
Chapter 12
She’d hoped their arrangement would give her unlimited access to Adam’s files, but she’d been mistaken. Over the next eight days she typed up letters for him, filed paperwork and did a couple of hours of secretarial work a day for him, but he was always present. He never left her alone in the study.
By the time those eight days had passed frantic despair raced through her. If the date in the e-mail she’d read was correct, they had just over a week to stop the shipment. She had just over a week to get the rest of the information they needed.
Not only was the time bomb ticking louder in Cassie’s brain concerning the drug shipment, but she wasn’t sure how much longer Adam would be willing to allow her the privacy of her own bedroom.
With each passing day, each passing night, his amorous intentions grew more pronounced and she knew it was only a matter of time before he’d insist she move into his bedroom.
With these concerns eating her alive, in the middle of the night of her eighth night beneath Adam’s roof she crept down the stairs and headed for the study.
In the past eight days in the house she’d gotten a handle not only on Adam’s daily routine, but of the household help as well. The only wild card in the mix was Burt, who seemed to have free access to roam the halls and rooms of the house whenever he felt like it.
The rest of the household staff usually retired to their rooms on the third floor around 10:00 p.m. and were rarely seen downstairs or around the house after that time.
She was hoping Burt was in bed, sleeping the sleep of the damned. As she slithered through the darkness toward the study, her head was filled with thoughts of Adam.
Several times she’d thought he was on the verge of spilling everything to her. She’d held her breath in anticipation of him telling her all about his plot, but in the end he’d clammed up.
She’d been right about him suffering a cash flow problem. She’d overheard more than one conversation between him and bankers indicating that he was late on payments of business loans.
She’d also heard that he’d closed down one of his shelters. He’d mentioned it at dinner one night and she’d probed him on why. He’d said that the building was a large structure with few patients and he’d decided to transfer the patients and close it for cost efficiency reasons.
During the past eight days with him, she’d learned more about his character…or lack thereof. She realized Adam didn’t want a lover or a partner as much as he wanted an adoring audience.
She had the distinct feeling that what he wanted was somebody he could confide in and who would tell him how brilliant, how wonderful, how powerful he was. He wanted somebody to worship at the feet of his brilliance, encourage his sick plot for revenge.
There were moments when he let his guard down just enough to see the sick soul that shone from those ice-blue eyes of his.
She had begun to wonder if his plot was less about revenge and the loss of his only daughter and more about the power and money it would bring to him.
As the sole supplier of the desired drug, Adam would make millions in the initial distribution. He was a man who liked wealth, a man who liked buying and selling people. And at the moment he thought he’d bought sweet little Jessica Sinclair.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the study. Before she touched the computer she listened to make sure there were no sounds coming from any other place in the house. Nothing. No sound except the normal noise that a house made.
At the computer she quickly accessed the program she needed and spent several minutes typing. She closed that window then pulled up his e-mail, quickly reading through the latest batch of messages he’d received.
Damn. There was nothing in the most recent spate of e-mail messages that indicated anything about Adam’s plot. Of course, he’d already read this batch of e-mail. If there had been a message sent, he would have read it then possibly deleted it. There was no way she could download new e-mail without him knowing that the program had been tampered with.
She moved from the e-mail program to his regular files, once again scanning file names for one that would ring an alarm in her head.
She paused as she saw one that indicated it was a database of names and addresses. Was this the record of people who had passed through Adam’s drug shelters and treatment centers?
She had to know. This might be her only opportunity to find any information at all about her mother and her brother. Fingers trembling, she pulled up the database and began to scan the names.
Thankfully they were listed in alphabetical order, so she keyed down to the N’s. Newport. Newsom. Newson. Newstead. Her heart hammered faster. Newstrum. Newswadder. Newton.
Rebecca Newton.
The shock of seeing her mother’s name made her knees weak as she looked for the latest entry. There…an address update as of five years earlier: 1327 Paseo Drive. Right here in Kansas City.
With the address burned into her brain, she got out of the database. The overhead light burst on and made her blink blindly as her heart crashed against her rib cage. She looked up to see Burt glaring at her from the doorway.
“You are in a load of trouble, Blondie,” he said. He held a gun in his hand. “Don’t you move. You hear me?” He walked over to the wall where there was an intercom and pushed a button. “Mr. Mercer. I’m sorry to bother you but we have a situation in the study.”
Adam’s disembodied voice filled the room. “I’ll be right down.”
Cassie’s heart had been pounding before. Now it threatened to burst out of her chest as she saw the dark glee in Burt’s eyes. “You’re going back to slinging drinks in a club quicker than you can say spit,” he said. “And that’s the best that you can hope for.”
She said nothing. He held the gun. He held the power and she knew all she had to do was utter one word he didn’t like and he’d shoot her and deal with the consequences later.
“What’s going on here?” Adam appeared in the doorway. Clad in a navy silk dressing gown, hair tousled from sleep, he glared at first Burt, then Cassie.
Cassie promptly burst into
tears. “I couldn’t sleep…and I can down here…I was making you something…” The words escaped her on deep, wrenching sobs. “And he’s going to shoot me…and I just wanted to do something nice…”
“Nobody is going to shoot anyone. Put that gun away,” he instructed Burt. Irritation rang not only in his tone but in his gaze as well.
Burt narrowed his eyes and slid the gun into his waistband. The look he gave Cassie was filled with such venomous hatred it almost stole her breath.
Adam moved closer to Cassie. “Now, tell me again, what are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” His voice held a cool edge of suspicion.
She released another round of sobs and motioned him to the computer screen. There, in colorful display, was the beginning of the poem she’d typed in when she’d first accessed the computer.
“I…I was going to give it to you at breakfast. I’m sorry…I never thought…I didn’t dream…”
“Hush.” He pulled her into his arms and patted her back like she was a small child who’d fallen off a teeter-totter. She buried her head in his chest, fighting the impulse to stick her tongue out at Burt.
“Go back to your room, Burt. You’ve caused enough problems for one night.” Adam’s voice held cold fury.
Cassie wailed louder, her shoulders shaking as if sobs threatened to rip her in half.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry if he frightened you,” Adam stroked her hair and hugged her tight.
“I thought he was going to shoot me. He doesn’t like me anyway and I’ve never done anything to him.” She sniffed audibly and raised her head to look at him. “I just wanted to surprise you.”
He smiled teasingly and swiped at her tears with his thumbs. “I guess we both got a surprise.”
She buried her head against his chest once again and shuddered. “I don’t like those kinds of surprises.”
“Come on, let’s get you tucked back into bed,” he said. “It’s quite late and I have an early morning meeting to go to.”
Together they left the office and Cassie mentally congratulated herself for having the foresight to prepare an alibi.
He led her back up the stairs, his arm around her shoulder and she continued to shake as if the entire experience had scared her to death.
“Maybe it would be a good idea if you don’t wander the house in the middle of the night,” he suggested. “At least not in the area of my study. I’m afraid Burt is a bit overzealous in his guard duties. He meant no harm.”
Meant no harm, my ass, Cassie thought. He’d probably been waiting for her to make a misstep of some kind.
They stopped in front of Cassie’s bedroom door. “Maybe you’d feel better sleeping the rest of the night with me?” His voice was husky, as if seeing her at the business end of the gun had stirred his libido.
She looked up at him. “Oh, Adam, you know if I go to your room we won’t sleep and I don’t want our first night together to be like this.” She shuddered. “At the moment I feel a bit traumatized by having a gun pointed at me.”
“You’re right, of course.” Disappointment tugged his eyebrows closer together. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You sure you’ll be all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine as long as Burt doesn’t sneak into my room and try to finish the job.”
“Don’t you worry about Burt. I’ll take care of him.”
Murmuring a good-night, Cassie slid into her bedroom, closed the door and stumbled to her bed, afraid that her trembling legs might buckle beneath her.
That had been too close. If she’d have breathed wrong, Burt would have put a bullet through her brain. She got beneath the covers on the bed and willed her breathing to slow to a more normal pace.
She wouldn’t get another opportunity at the computer, not unless Adam left her alone in his study for any length of time.
At least he’d bought her story tonight, otherwise she wouldn’t be lying in bed but would be fighting for her life. That had been way too close.
As her breathing slowed and she began to relax, her thoughts turned to another matter: 1327 Paseo Drive. Five years ago her mother had lived at that address. She must have rented the place, for none of Cassie’s searches in the past had pulled up her name at this address. Was she still there? Was it possible Cassie could walk up to the front porch, knock on the door and face the woman who had thrown her away so many years ago?
She squeezed her eyes shut and dug in her mind for memories of that woman. Laughter. That’s what first came to Cassie’s mind…the sound of her mother’s laughter.
Rebecca Newton had been gifted with the true, tinkling melodic laugh of an angel. And she’d laughed often, especially after toking on a couple of joints.
The distinctive scent of marijuana filled Cassie’s head as she searched her mind for memory concrete enough to hang on to. Billy could be dirty and sobbing with hunger in the corner and her mother and her latest paramour would laugh as if the entire world was nothing more than a big joke.
Cassie turned from her back to her side, staring at the darkened wall of the bedroom. Her mother hadn’t laughed as much with Rick. He’d had a mean streak in him that had frightened Rebecca, but apparently not enough to kick him out and be alone.
Cassie sighed. This wasn’t what she wanted, what she needed to remember. She didn’t want to remember Billy’s cries and her mother’s laughter. She didn’t want to remember overdue bills and moving in the middle of the night. She didn’t want to remember the men who appeared and disappeared in their lives like magicians vanishing in a poof of her mother’s tears.
She needed to remember one moment of love, one memory that whispered of gentleness or caring, one single reason to walk up to the door at 1327 Paseo Drive and knock.
Hard as she tried, nothing came to her mind.
“Mr. Mercer won’t be home until sometime later this afternoon,” Ramona explained as she poured Cassie a cup of coffee the next morning. “He told me to tell you to spend the day relaxing…go out by the pool or take a nap. No work today for you.” The words were delivered in a resentful tone that let Cassie know Ramona had no use for her. “Will you be wanting breakfast?”
“No, thanks. Just coffee is fine. Thank you, Ramona,” she said to the woman’s back as she left the sunroom.
Cassie sipped her coffee and stared out the window at the lush gardens. She wondered what kind of a meeting had called Adam away. Was he finalizing his plans for destruction? Meeting with drug lords to stir a frenzy for his drug? And she hoped wherever Adam was, Burt was with him.
If Adam had believed her story last night, which she thought he had, then it was possible he’d given Burt some sort of dressing down. Burt had been dangerous before last night. If Cassie had created tension between him and Adam, then he’d be even more dangerous now.
She needed to get out of here. But she couldn’t leave until she knew more. She couldn’t allow Adam’s plot to play out.
She finished her coffee, then before going back upstairs to her bedroom walked down the hall toward the study. The door was shut. Not a good sign. This was the first time in the week she’d been in the house that the study door was closed.
With Adam gone for the day, it would have been a perfect opportunity to access the files she hadn’t had time to access the night before. But that closed door worried her.
Looking around, hearing sounds of Ramona busy in the kitchen, she crept closer to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob. She slowly tried to twist the knob.
Locked.
She could easily pick the lock, but she knew the room was equipped with an alarm. If she’d had enough time to explore the room, she might have been able to disarm the alarm, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to study the alarm system. She couldn’t risk it.
She turned and hurried back down the hall and toward the staircase to her room. If Adam had bought her story last night completely, then why had he locked his office door? Maybe she hadn’t completely convinced him afte
r all?
In her bedroom she walked over to the window and stood staring outside, her thoughts whirling with supposition. Last night she’d felt relatively secure of her place here and her position with Adam. A locked door had shattered that illusion.
From this vantage point, beyond the extensive gardens she could see the bright blue water of the swimming pool and the roof of the pool house.
Uncertainty and a sudden case of nerves forced restless energy through her. Maybe this afternoon she would use the pool. Swimming laps would be good for working off both the nerves and the useless energy.
There was nothing she could do to figure out Adam’s frame of mind until he returned from wherever he’d gone. It was important that she was mentally and physically prepared for anything.
It was after lunch when she walked through the garden to reach the pool, which was Olympic-size and the water crystal clear. Ramona had indicated to her that she’d find whatever she needed in the pool house for an afternoon of lounging in the sun.
There were brand-new bathing suits in a variety of sizes, huge fluffy towels, a number of different types of suntan oil and a wet bar with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.
She chose a conservative two-piece tankini and even though she considered goggles goofy, she grabbed a pair of those as well. She had no idea how chlorine worked with contacts so figured the goggles were probably a good idea. Armed with everything she thought she might need, she settled into a lounge chair to sun for a few minutes. The pressure of her concerns weighed heavily on her.
That locked door.
She wished she would have gotten up early enough to have a conversation with Adam before he’d left that morning. She would have been able to read his mood and know whether she truly needed to be worried or not. At the moment there was nothing she could do but wait and see what the mood was when he finally returned home.
The afternoon passed quickly. Cassie loved to swim although she hadn’t learned until she was fourteen and Max had insisted. His apartment complex in L.A. had had a pool and Max, still functioning under the delusion that he was training the world’s greatest stunt woman, had made sure that swimming was part of her education.
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