GREED Box Set (Books 1-4)
Page 96
“Michael.”
I looked down. A single tear rolled down her cheek, mixing with blood.
“Camila, it's okay.”
“I...I programmed a virus to go off in the code. Without me, there will be no WMD.”
Her quivering lips attempted a smile.
“Camila, you're an amazing woman. You've done the world a great favor.”
“Michael, do one thing for me please. Make sure that Juan is taken care of. My adopted mother is old, won't live much longer. Make sure he knows I'll always love him. Always.”
Her breath stopped, and she stopped blinking.
“Camila. Camila,” I yelled out.
Just then, someone pounced on top of me, and I fell onto Camila, my face buried in her blood. I felt metal against my body, and when I turned my head, I saw Franco's frame. I fought back, flinging wild fists wherever they could connect. The metal moved...I couldn't let him get a shot off. I kicked and flailed my arms. He pulled away and began to raise the gun. I lunged forward, ramming my head against his nose. Blood poured, and he yelled like a baby, but he didn't drop the gun.
I kept kicking and punching, blood smearing my entire body, from Camila mostly, maybe from Franco's nose. The asshole managed to grip the gun in the palm of his hand and shove me back at the same time. Seconds passed and I thought I was a dead man. He stared into my eyes, and said, “Fuck you, Michael Doyle.”
Suddenly, his chest exploded, and I thought his eyes might pop out of his head. More blood sprayed on me. He dropped to his knees then fell on top of me.
Over his shoulder, I saw a tall woman in a pantsuit, short hair and a pistol next to her side. All the noise and bullets had ceased. Gasping for clean air, I squinted, wondering if I'd be her last victim.
She raised an arm, showing me something. It was gold.
“Don't be alarmed, Mr. Doyle. I'm Special Agent Kylie Irving, FBI.”
I dropped to the grass, a lifeless Camila next to me. Tears welled in my eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Six
One Month Later
A cloud the shape of Tennessee cut across the bottom edge of the moon, set high in the nighttime sky, its glow illuminating a clear, crisp view of San Francisco. Resting a hand in my suit pants pocket, I bypassed the tiny red straw and sipped Maker's Mark and Coke, observing the amazing scene through ceiling-to-floor windows in the infamous Top of the Mark hotel bar and restaurant.
I glanced over my shoulder. No sign of my date, but I did see a number of couples, leaning across tables, trading smiles, some sharing tall frozen drinks, others in a whispered conversation. Off to the right, a larger table was set up with about fifteen or twenty folks of all ages gathered around it, a few empty chairs mixed in. A celebration of some kind.
I didn't bother looking at my watch or phone. I turned to the windows and released a relaxed breath, scanning the hills and water, thinking about how they appeared so different at night, in full sunshine, and with fog. The Bay Area changed weather in the blink of an eye, and it felt like a mood swing. The entire city was fleeting—at the top of one hill, you saw the signature Golden Gate, then down the other side and you were surrounded by colorful homes. The sunsets were memorable, just because each one was unique. A hovering fog flowing across the bay felt ominous, like the grim reaper was paying a visit. Like I said, the city's mood changed with the weather. Lights sprinkled the landscape, buildings of all types reaching for the sky. They represented power, money, the skin of the city. But, deeper, San Francisco was really more of a secret, a place where people lived and socialized...and treasured life because they had lived through so much.
If I wasn't before, I figured I was one of them now.
Jiggling ice around in my glass, I tipped my head back, taking in a hearty swallow. The whiskey warmed my chest.
“Are you going to stare out the window all night, or walk your date to the table?”
I turned on my heels and caught the wink of her eye. My heart skipped just a tad, and I held out an arm, my eyes taking in the full view: tapered ankles fit into black heels with a translucent fabric on the side of her shoes. A black dress with sequins in the shape of shells shimmered from the soft lighting. The dress accentuated her curves, her frame strong, hearty, like her personality. The back of the dress was cut lower than the front, highlighting firm muscles. The front had a V-shape, showing just enough cleavage to remind me she was all woman.
She took my arm, her warm, brown eyes meeting mine. Her hair was up...I'd never seen it that way. Wispy curls accented her neck, framing her prominent cheeks.
Once seated, our food ordered, she actually used the red straw to sip her amaretto sour.
“Did you ever think we'd be sitting here?” Andi asked.
“Of course. Remember, I promised you that I'd take you up here. Just took a couple of months and a few bumps and scrapes along the way.”
“Don't forget police arrests,” she added.
I adjusted my shoulder, noting a twinge of pain still existed, but I'd come a long way since I started physical therapy a few weeks ago.
“Did you hear, Guidry is traveling out to visit Kylie? Couple of FBI lovebirds,” she said.
Right after the shootout, I learned that Andi had convinced Ji to call the FBI. They finally reached Agent Kylie Irving, who was less than convinced. Then Andi mentioned Guidry. Turns out Kylie and Bobby Guidry met on a recent nationwide manhunt, and they hit it off. They'd been in a long-distance relationship for the last five months. Guidry convinced Kylie to take action.
“How's Satish doing?” I asked.
“Better, not as paranoid. Rebuilding his business, with Bogi as his partner.”
Satish was the one who'd scanned a number of chat rooms that night to learn more about the tunnels. He found the son of a gentleman who actually helped build them sixty-plus years ago, which is how he learned about the trapdoor entrance in the shack.
“God love the skinny Indian. Saved our asses.” I brought up my glass, and we toasted our geeky friend.
This time, I winked at Andi, and it felt natural.
“How's Juan?” she asked.
“Doing well. I've been up to Camila's adopted mother's place three times now. Cute kid, full of life. Running around with friends. I helped her set up a trust fund. I made sure she knows that I'll be available whenever she needs me.”
I could see Andi's chest move, like she was contemplating a thought. "You're a good man, Michael." She hoisted her glass.
“To a better woman.” We toasted again, and I felt a tickle in my stomach.
“So, you know we need to make a decision here,” I said.
“I know. Three offers, I'm not sure which direction to take.”
“Make that four. Google came through with an offer yesterday. I told them I needed the weekend to think about it.”
Right after the fiasco ended, a local magazine editor caught wind of our journey to hell and back. He asked Andi and me to co-write a story about the entire ordeal, throwing in facts with our own spin. It was cathartic, but also fun working with a fellow journalist, a female one at that. Since then, a literary agent contacted me and said she'd shared our story with a major publisher out of New York. They were interested in having Andi and me co-write a series of romantic suspense books.
“I've got an offer from the San Francisco Chronicle, you got one from Google, and two team offers: one to write novels and another to team up with Ji in his PI business.“ A wide grin covered her face.
“So many options. Can it get any better?” I asked.
Andi paused, peered into my eyes. She got out of her chair, her eyes never leaving mine. I was drawn to do the same. We met halfway, our bodies pressed together, and we hugged each other, hard. I caught a waft of roses and peaches. Given her conditioning and strength, she nearly took my breath away, literally. I thought her leg might have kicked up in the back.
I'd always believed you fell in love with a person through their eyes, but only if both of you looked at th
e same time, with the same level of commitment.
Our heads leaned back, our lips separated by a couple of inches. I glanced at the red lipstick, her imperfect nose, and then her eyes. They warmed my heart.
Andi's arms wrapped around my neck, as a mischievous smile crossed those lips.
“Yep. We've got lots of options.”
Unaware of the world around us, our foreheads touched. We turned and faced the window, connected at the hip, pondering which option best fit our mood, in our city.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Her frame was feminine, yet firm. The way her back arched, muscles rippling off her exposed shoulder blades, the glistening skin along her neck. The neck was flawless, indeed.
Jeremiah stood motionless, next to the wood-trimmed bar bustling with patrons, magnetized by her demeanor, her confident gait. The well-toned brunette with model-like legs carried a hint of an attitude, and blood motored though his veins.
Ignoring his half-brother as long he could stand, Jeremiah took in the essence of Andi. He marveled at her evolution, from a cute, eager college intern to a full-blown all-American woman. Hell, she looked so athletic, she could probably make the treacherous swim across the bay to Alcatraz prison, carving right through the choppy Pacific waters.
With a tray resting against his ribcage, Jeremiah inhaled and believed he caught a waft of her scent...strawberry, peaches, maybe a hint of roses. It made his skin tingle, and he had to fight back a small tremor permeating his body.
He felt a tap on his well-developed shoulder. “Hey dude, number four is asking about their app. Chop, chop.”
Slice, slice, Jeremiah thought but dared not say...at least not in a public setting. Annoyed by the interruption of his colleague, Jeremiah moved to the side of the bar and cleaned glasses, his hazel eyes shifting every few seconds back to the woman in the black dress.
His memory, especially on the visual side, was impeccable. Recalling the night he and Andi brushed shoulders two years back when he was focused on another important mission, she wore a similar black dress, but it was tight on her thin body. She had fewer curves back then, and she appeared a bit awkward, like she was trying to be a woman. She'd just left a date with that dick, Trevor, who'd stolen her heart. That poor fool had no idea what he was missing. But, Trevor's mistake would be Jeremiah's triumph.
Fate can be a wicked path, many other women knew all too well. He was sure they'd agree—if they were still among the living.
Jeremiah had roamed the country for most of the last nineteen months, even visited Mexico, then dipped into Guatemala briefly to finish a job he'd started in Cancun—the kind of job that blew his mind. The travel had reminded him of how many snowflakes existed in this world, and he was doing his best to experience every type he could get his hands on.
He couldn't stay in a dream state forever. He eyed Michael while dropping off an appetizer and two drinks to table number four.
“Can I get you anything else this evening?” Jeremiah's voice had a slight Australian tone. He'd supposedly moved from Sydney to San Francisco about six months ago.
“No, we're good,” the man said without looking at him.
Jeremiah bowed his head briefly, and he noticed the woman scrunch her nose. Was that a half-wink? She was slightly older than most of his...dates, but a few lines here and there just meant she was experienced, methodical, not some bubble-headed ditz. And the slope of her neck was inviting.
He glided back to the bar then touched his face, just to make sure everything was intact. He glanced back over at the touchy couple, Michael and Andi. His half-brother...again, happy. It made him want to puke. No, it made him want to slice off every limb on his body and stuff it down his pathetic throat.
His heart rate increased, his chest expanded, and he could feel that familiar fury growing like a volcano coming to life. He'd been waiting far too long to exact revenge on Michael. Sure, he realized the pleasures of Marisa, but Michael had altered his master plan, and Jeremiah would never forgive his older sibling.
Just then, he felt a slight tug on his ponytail. He turned and caught the seductive glare of the forty-something woman, the shine of diamonds twinkling off her hand and wrist, as she walked toward the restroom. She, too, was a brunette, although she probably had a bit of gray tucked in there.
He glanced back at Andi, realizing she would have to wait.
The ecstasy of control sent shivers through his body, and he envisioned a night of play with this temporary distraction. He'd enjoy it. Life was too short not to enjoy every minute of it.
Jeremiah would use tonight's conquest to mark the celebration—a new mission, a special project for the alluring woman with a boy's name: Andi.
Acknowledgements
The city of San Francisco—its diversity, compelling architecture, even the weather—is one of the coolest places in the United States. That setting inspired me to create this novel.
While I've truly enjoyed writing each book in the Greed Series, I'm as intrigued as any reader as to where this series will go next.
Thank you to my phenomenal support team, starting with my anchors, my family, both extended and core. This all starts with my wife, Chris, who is simply the best. All of you provide inspiration and motivation t to continue to exercise my creative muscle and to make the next novel my best.
Connect with John
To learn more about upcoming releases and sign up for his newsletter, please visit John’s website: http://www.johnwmefford.com
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John W. Mefford Bibliography
The Greed Series
FATAL GREED (Greed Series #1)
LETHAL GREED (Greed Series #2)
WICKED GREED (Greed Series #3)
GREED MANIFESTO (Greed Series #4)
The Booker Series
BOOKER – Streets of Mayhem (Volume 1)
BOOKER – Tap That (Volume 2)
BOILERMAKER – A Lt. Jack Daniels / Booker Mystery (Volume 2.5)
BOOKER – Hate City (Volume 3)
BOOKER – Blood Ring (Volume 4)
BOOKER – No Más (Volume 5)
BOOKER – Dead Heat (Volume 6)
The Alex Troutt Series
Coming soon
GREED BOX SET
Copyright 2015 by John W. Mefford
All rights reserved.
Publisher: Sugar Hill Press
Publication Date: June 23, 2015
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book (not just the sample) and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting
Table of Contents
Titlepage
Contents
FATAL GREED
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five