“Where’s Mateus?” I ask Ford.
He motions toward the patio, so I go and Townsend follows.
Mateus and Isabel are sitting at one of the tables chatting quietly when we arrive.
“How did it go?” I ask.
Isabel visibly tenses at the sight of Townsend by my side.
Mateus rises. “I think it went well. Did you make a friend?”
“I’m not a friend,” Townsend snaps.
Mateus lifts an eyebrow and looks at me.
“This is Killian Townsend. He’s with the Company.”
“Formerly,” he corrects. “Free agent anyway. Also none of your fucking business.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his antics. “He’s going to help us with the Soloman situation, after which I’ve agreed to assist him with a separate matter.” I look to a worried Isabel, wishing I could explain more, but it’ll have to wait. “What happened with Medina?”
“He was cagey.” Isabel stands and crosses her arms tightly over her chest. The motion is defensive, like she’s protecting herself from something. “Paranoid and protective when it came to access to Soloman. But I don’t think he suspected anything. Mateus played it off well.”
“And Isabel was a most convincing distraction. He would have pushed me for answers I didn’t want to give had she not been there. It was the right decision to bring her.”
I’m relieved to hear it but no more thrilled about her roleplaying as someone else’s lover. Still, progress was made.
“I saw him making calls after you left. Hopefully one of them was to Soloman.”
Townsend lights a cigarette and starts walking around the deck, surveying all the amenities like he’s the one who paid for them.
“Is he staying?” Mateus asks quietly. “And if so, should I be concerned?”
“He’s coming off some bad news. Just a little punchy is all.” I brush the back of my fingers over my cheek briefly. “He’ll be fine, but I’d have Ford keep an eye on him. He may not look it, but he’s lethal in his own right.”
“Very well.” He looks to Isabel. “You should get some sleep. If we get the call we want, tomorrow could be a long day.”
She comes to my side, catches my hand in hers, and leans her body against me like she needs the contact. She’s barely been out of my sight all day, but I can’t deny the relief that comes with being close to her again.
“Townsend,” I call out.
He halts his tour and turns his head.
“Ford can show you your room for the night. Try not to be an asshole.”
He flips me off as he exhales a plume of smoke. I laugh to myself and we go inside, disappearing into the privacy of our room. The second the door closes, Isabel strips her dress off unceremoniously.
“I thought you were going to let me unwrap you.” My tone is teasing, but under it I’m dead serious.
She answers with a tired smile, tossing the garment to the floor. “Sorry. I’m just coming down from the adrenaline spike of the meeting, I guess.”
“Sounds like everything went smoothly. Did something else happen?”
She drops to the edge of the bed and slips off her heels. “No, it was fine. We both kept our cool and put on a convincing show, I think. I’m just stressed it wasn’t enough. Medina was really guarded. It was hard to tell what he was thinking and act dumb at the same time. I just hope I didn’t screw it up somehow. That was our one shot.”
She goes for the strap on her thigh. I stop her, shift her up the bed, and climb over her, trapping her hands on either side of her head. Her eyes glimmer as she stares up at me.
“If it’s not enough, we’ll come up with a plan B. In the meantime, I don’t want you losing sleep over it, all right?”
She exhales softly. “Okay.”
I release her hands and move down to unfasten her strap. Carefully I slide the knife and strap off, planting a kiss on the inside of her thigh before putting everything away on the bedside table.
“What about Townsend? He showed up out of the blue?” she asks.
“He was following Medina. Punched me first chance he got and let me know it was for Jay. He’s going after Crow unless I can talk some sense into him.”
She sits up sharply. “Are you serious?”
“Did you see him?” I gesture toward the closed door. Somewhere on the other side of it, I’m certain Townsend’s still wearing down a path with his embittered pacing. “He’s manic. He’s a goddamn mess over this. I guess he and Jay were closer than I thought. Honestly, I don’t know if he’s going to be able to let it go until he gets his hands on Crow.”
“That complicates things.” Her voice takes on a listless quality.
“When he’s gambling on me being able to find him, yeah, it does.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Isabel
I wake up to an empty bed and the quiet murmur of voices beyond the bedroom door. I dress quickly and go to the living room, where Tristan, Mateus, and Townsend are all gathered. It looks like they’re in the middle of an intense strategy session, judging by their pensive stares and the empty coffee cups littering the table.
I scrub my fingers through my mussed hair. “What’s going on?”
Tristan rises from the couch and comes to me. “Medina called first thing this morning.”
My heart lurches. “And? Did we get the meeting?”
“We got something else.”
Townsend leans back into the couch and props his feet on the table. “Hope you’ve got more than one party dress, cupcake.”
I glare at him. “Don’t call me that.”
Tristan releases a tense sigh. “Ignore him. And you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It may be too dangerous. Correction, it is too dangerous.”
“Tristan.”
Mateus shoots him a hard look that’s immediately returned.
“What? What is it?” I ask, desperate to be clued in.
“He didn’t confirm a meeting, but he’s invited you and Mateus to a yacht party being held tonight. Soloman should be there.”
“And who else?”
Tristan shrugs. “I have no idea, but Townsend and I are going to head down to the marina soon to find out more. It’s supposed to leave around eight, just after sunset.”
“Okay, he’ll be in public. Surrounded by people. We knew this was his MO.”
Tristan lets out a caustic laugh. “Yeah, we weren’t expecting him to be on a goddamn boat. I’m struggling to think of a worse setup for a hit.”
“But Mateus and I will be on the boat.”
“Ford too,” Mateus adds. “One security detail is permitted.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Tristan says. “Even if you get a window to take him out, you’ve got no escape route. You’re on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a bunch of witnesses.”
I go to the couch and pour myself the cup of coffee I badly need to get my brain in gear for this conversation.
Townsend shifts his boots to the side and slides the tiny pitcher of creamer my way. I take it without making eye contact.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters.
Go to hell, I answer silently.
I ignore him and try to wrap my head around this development. “This may be our only chance,” I say. “We have to try to make it work.”
“Everyone who gets on the boat needs to be prepared to make the hit,” Townsend says.
Tristan takes the seat beside me. “Mateus can’t be implicated, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Ford gets paid for. That leaves Isabel, who may well be recognized.” He rubs his forehead vigorously again. “We shouldn’t force this. We can wait for another meeting.”
“Tristan, we’ve already agreed. The time is now.”
Mateus’s voice is firm, which gives me hope. The Medina meeting worked. We can pull this off too.
I take a sip of my coffee and set it down. “Okay, let’s say we go to the party and nothing happens. We don’t get an opening. The wor
st-case scenario is Soloman sees me and recognizes me, right? It’s a party on a yacht, so there should be a lot of people. I don’t have to stay on Mateus’s arm all night, or at all. I can mingle and talk to other people while Mateus has his meeting. Or I can find someplace to hide out until the boat docks again.”
“You don’t have to go at all,” Tristan says.
I pause a moment. “What if you came too?”
“Seriously? You think they won’t recognize either of us?”
“They’re not going to check IDs, right? Just names. Why can’t you go as Ford and wear a disguise or figure out how to stay out of sight until the right time?”
He shakes his head slightly. “This is fucked.”
Townsend drops his feet to the carpeted floor. “Now that we’ve got the cast of characters down, let’s talk about execution. Gun’s not going to work. There’s likely to be security of some kind, plus they’re fuckin’ loud and someone’s bound to see you pop this guy. Let’s rule that out.”
“Agreed,” Tristan mutters.
“I think I can be resourceful,” I say.
Townsend meets my eyes. “I think we can agree on that also, so we’ll leave that option open. Now, option three and my personal preference: poison. It’s just a matter of when, where, and how long you want it to take.”
For the first time since he’s reemerged into our lives, I’m interested in what he can bring to the equation.
“And if,” Tristan adds, “if one of us gets an opportunity to slip him something.”
“Well, it’s a fuckin’ good thing we have options, right? Anyway, you want this to go down quickly? Or are we going for a slow death in, say, three months?”
“I would think it should be fairly quick,” I say.
Townsend nods. “That gets my vote too. More problematic in the short term. No doubt we’ll have a scene and some confusion and the whole matter of getting everyone off the boat. But I’m sure I don’t speak only for myself when I say I’d like to be rid of this guy sooner rather than later. I prefer aconite. Few drops in his drink, and he’ll be heaving his guts out in about twenty minutes. That’s when you’ll know it’s started working.”
Everyone’s quiet for a minute, taking in Townsend’s proposal.
“Do you have enough for each of us to carry some?” I ask.
He shoots me a crooked smile. “Never leave home without it.”
TRISTAN
The party is eight hours away, and the plan is only half-baked. Townsend and I are pulling up to the marina while Mateus takes Isabel out to shop for something yacht-appropriate. Whether I actually let her get on the cruise will have to be a game-time decision. For now, I’m going along with it. Townsend’s push to keep our options open has merit, because once things start to unfold, our options could narrow very quickly.
We walk from the parking lot to the marina and down the pier with the most impressive yachts docked along it. I could stop and ask questions at the main office, but my hunch is we’ll find the vessel here.
“What’s it called?” Townsend asks.
We slow at the stern of the second yacht docked. I point to the dark serif lettering stroked with gold on the back. King’s Ransom.
Townsend coughs out a laugh and taps a cigarette from its pack before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s fuckin’ ironic.”
“I think that’s the idea.”
“Can I help you with something?” A man comes from behind us in a stiff white crew uniform.
I shoot him a friendly smile, something I save for Isabel and people I need to manipulate. “Hi. I’m working security on the cruise tonight. I was hoping to get some information so I can coordinate details for my client.”
He looks Townsend over hesitantly before returning his attention to me. “Sure. How can I help?”
“About how many people are you expecting?”
“I believe there are sixty passengers on the guest list, give or take.”
“And where are you going?”
“The plan is to cruise for a few hours with a short stop at Fisher Island to drop some people off before we dock here again.”
“Perfect. We’ll see you around eight.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
“Who owns the boat?” Townsend interjects as I’m about to turn and leave.
The man hesitates a moment before replying. “The King’s Ransom is owned by Mr. Simon Pelletier.”
“Does he ever go by Soloman?”
The man opens his mouth to speak. Flustered, he snaps it shut again quickly.
Townsend’s riding a dangerous edge again, pushing my tolerance and risking discovery when we need to lie low and maneuver carefully to position ourselves for the hit. The crew member’s already given us the answer we need, so I pat Townsend’s shoulder, signaling him that we’re leaving.
Townsend winks before he turns. “Thanks for your time.”
We scope out the rest of the marina and walk back to the car. “You think you can tone it down a little? I know you’re in a mood, but I’m about to put Isabel on that boat, and it’d be great if no one suspected anything before I did.”
Townsend lights up his cigarette. “When are you going to reach out to Crow?”
“When this is done. You can’t smoke in my car.”
He takes a long drag and tosses it before we get in. I start the engine, and we get on our way.
“I want you to set something up before this goes down with Soloman. If you don’t make it, I’m out of luck.”
“Not exactly a vote of confidence, is it?”
“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly have a sense of humor about it. Someone’s going to pay for what happened to her.”
“You really want to put your life on the line for this? How does Jay feel about that?”
He looks out the window, not answering. My guess is she’s not thrilled. What’s done is done. If she cares about him, she’s not going to want to lose him over this.
“The sooner you make the call, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair, mate.”
“He’s not likely to take a meeting out of the blue. With Soloman out of the picture, though, that’s news that will pique his interest. The minute this is done, I’ll set something up. You know how these mob families work, though. If you manage to get to him, he’s probably got a hundred cousins who are going to want to come after you.”
“Let them,” he snaps, murder in his eyes all over again. “Let them fuckin’ come after me.”
I shift my focus to the road. There’s no reasoning with him. Maybe that’s how vengeance goes. I should know, since I’ve made good money killing people in the name of revenge. But I’ve never carried the stuff myself. Nothing I’ve ever done has been infused with the kind of hatred that chills the air between Townsend and me.
Hell, he’s the one who wiped my memory. I should want to kill him, but I don’t. He was doing a job, same as all the ones I did. We’re two puppets in the same fucked-up play. And if he wants to sell his soul to revenge, that’s his choice.
We park, and Townsend heads toward the entrance while I type out a text to Crow.
Need to meet soon.
Give me a time and place.
When we arrive at the penthouse a few minutes later, the living room is filled with shopping bags. Isabel is trying on a pair of nude, studded slingbacks out of a Valentino box when she notices me.
“Mateus went all out, huh?”
She stands and rests her hands on her hips. “I bought it all. I mean, he insisted of course, but I wasn’t putting this on his dime. Even if sliding my card through the machine nearly gave me a stroke. Do you like them?”
“You’re wearing those on a fuckin’ boat? You planning to fall overboard and bringing Soloman with you?”
She shoots Townsend a narrow look that makes me smile. “Why don’t you stick to what you’re good at and get out of my face?”
“Sure thing, cupcake.” He walks to the patio, leaving us alone.
“He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”
“I’m going to have an aversion to needles for the rest of my life, thanks to him. Sorry if I’m not over it just yet.”
She turns and pulls out a scrap of a dress from one of the bags. It’s low cut and almost the same color as her skin. “I think I’m going to wear this.”
Envisioning her in it is already driving me crazy. Selfishly, I want to see her wear it, but the idea of anyone else enjoying the view makes me feel a little homicidal.
“You’re going to look naked.”
“I’m going to blend in. The last thing I need is to make myself a neon target.”
Of course, she wouldn’t need to worry about blending in if she weren’t there at all. The alternative is staying back with Ford and Townsend, which poses its own problems.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
She flashes her gaze to mine, hitting me with an unflinching look that answers before her words do. “I’m in this with you, Tristan.”
I try to release the tension that’s building up as I imagine her, dressed to kill, walking right into the lion’s den like it’s her job. And it’s fast becoming her job. I realize that now. I can’t hide her away, and I can’t hold her back. She doesn’t like the sidelines, and she’s unlikely to stay there even if I insist on it. We’re going to have to do this together, whether I like it or not.
CHAPTER NINE
Isabel
When we arrive, the fading sunset glints off the high-rises overlooking the marina. As we near the yacht, I’m relieved to see a crowd of people already forming on the top deck. Tristan said around sixty people, but it’s a huge vessel. If people are gathering in one spot, this won’t be an intimate affair, which should at least give me a chance to fly under the radar. I fiddle with the pendant on my necklace as Mateus, Tristan, and I wait behind another couple ready to come on board. I exhale a nervous sigh and send up a quiet prayer that everything goes to plan.
The Red Ledger, Book 6 Page 6