False Security (19 page)

Donovan’s smile
fixed itself in her mind and followed her throughout the day. She dazed her way
through her rounds and into the poker game that night.

Each of those who lived at the
estate headed up their own security teams, made up of men from Donovan’s
security company, while Paul was in charge of the entire operation. The
rotations allowed for them to have one day off every two weeks.

To help relieve the team from
the strenuous work schedules, Paul brought in an off-site team once a month so
they could have a night off together. On that night, the residents gathered in
the game room for intense, alcohol-infused competition. Though the chips they
played for were only assigned low dollar amounts, every hand was layered with
pride, as if thousands of dollars were at stake.

“How many, Rach?” Tony asked.

Rachel studied the five cards in
her hand, and her mind calculated the possibilities. It could go either way.
Two aces, two sevens and a lonely queen begged to become a full house, a great
hand in a game of five card draw with no wilds. If she forfeited the queen,
though, she risked getting stuck with nothing more than a two-pair, most likely
a losing hand given the high bidding. Then again, the queen, one ace and one
three were all clubs, and a flush could also take the pot, now standing at
fifty-three dollars in chips.

“Come on, Rach,” Joe said. “The
fate of the world doesn’t rest on this hand.”

“Yeah, but the fate of that pot
does,” she said, She placed the queen facedown on the table. “Give me one,
Tony.” She took a large swallow of her beer. She lifted the new card off the
table, and did her best to not let her disappointment show. She had traded the
queen for a five. With only a two-pair, she would have to fold.

Tony dealt himself three cards
before the second round of betting began. Aaron, Paul, Joe, and Eric all said,
“Check,” when their turn came to bet, and Rachel’s strategy changed. Four out
of five opponents declined to bet, which told her no one’s hand was as
spectacular as they originally thought.

Rachel looked at the neat stacks
of chips in front of her. She had already won over four hundred dollars in
chips that night so her ego wouldn’t be too bruised if she lost this one hand.
She picked up a blue chip, designated as the five-dollar chip for the game, and
tossed it into the pot.

Tony groaned and dropped his
cards facedown in front of him. One down, she thought. When Aaron folded next,
she stopped herself from smiling at her luck. Paul met her bet of five dollars,
while Joe folded. Eric raised her five more dollars.

Rachel didn’t hesitate, seeing
Eric’s five and adding five more. Paul folded. Eric threw in another blue chip
and called. Knowing Eric’s competitive nature wouldn’t allow him to fold anytime
soon, Rachel also called. Eric fanned out his hand on the table displaying a
two-pair, kings over fives. Rachel showed her aces over sevens with a large
smile.

“Damn,” Aaron said. “I folded
with a three of a kind and all you guys had were two-pairs.”

Joe pushed his chair back and
headed to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. He filled a shot glass
with tequila. “Anyone else want one?” he asked.

“Over here,” Eric said. “Make it
a double.”

Rachel glanced at her small
collection of empty beer bottles and declined.

Tony shuffled the cards. “I’m
ready to get out of here.” After their monthly poker game, it was custom for
the others to leave for town, where they drank and played pool and darts until
early morning. Tony had a girl named Gina that he visited while in town, and
the others almost always found someone to keep them company.

Paul usually stayed at the
estate with her, but left on occasion, if for no other reason than to get out.
From the stories of the others, she knew Paul kept to himself while out,
remaining true to his deceased wife in a way that caused the dormant romantic
side of Rachel to ooh and ah.

“Can I go this time?” Rachel
asked. She had always wanted to go with them to town and rediscover the world
she left when her parents died.

Joe patted her shoulder. “Rach,
you’re eighteen. You can’t get into a bar until you’re twenty-one.”

“I could get a fake ID,” she
said.

Paul pushed his chair back and
stood up. “No way, Rachel. That’s illegal.”

“So when did obeying the law
become part of our code of ethics? Come on, guys. How is it possible that given
all the expertise in this room, we can’t come up with one fake ID?”

“Truth?” Tony asked. “We don’t
want to get in a fight because some jerk won’t leave you alone.”

Rachel scowled. “You act like I
can’t take care of myself.”

Joe laughed. “Oh, so we let you
get in a fight instead and then have to explain to Donovan why his sweet little
Rachel is in jail.”

“I promise I’ll be good. Nobody
will go to jail.”

“Sorry, Rachel,” Paul said.
“It’s not going to happen.” His fatherly tone told her it was the end of the
discussion.

Rachel threw up her hands in
defeat and stood up. “Fine. I guess I’ll roam the grounds aimlessly again.” She
started out the door.

“Make sure you call ahead and
let George know you’re out there,” Paul said. George was the security guard
that headed up their relief team.

“As always. Have fun, guys.”
Rachel climbed the stairs two at a time. Near the employee entrance in the
back, she grabbed a radio out of the closet that housed their security gear.
Holding it close to her mouth, she said, “Hey, George. You out there?”

“Go ahead, Rachel,” George said.

She stepped onto the back patio
and continued with their routine, monthly dialogue. “I’m headed outside.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for you.
Tell me when you’re off the grounds, okay?”

“Sure thing, George.” She
secured the radio onto her belt and started down the slight incline that led to
her favorite place on the grounds. Next to the chain link fence and barbed wire
was a patch of land under a large oak tree where Rachel wasted countless hours
as a child. From this spot, she had an incredible view of the forest rising and
falling with the mountainous curves. Not quite as good as the roof, she
thought, but still a beautiful view.

The King estate was built as a
gift to Donovan’s mother from his father. Tucked away in a corner of the world
where the Sierra and Cascade mountains collided, the estate provided his mother
with a home that, for her last year on earth, could help her forget the cancerous
cells that knew nothing of mercy. Rachel had heard the story numerous times
over the years from Paul. It was an example of a real life fairy tale, one that
Rachel held as dear to her heart as the ones her mother told her when she was
young.

Rachel turned at the sound of
footsteps and rolled her eyes at Eric’s approaching silhouette. It wasn’t that
she didn’t like him, although Eric didn’t top her list of favorite people. She
had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with her thoughts and nature.

“I thought you went with the
others,” she said when he reached her.

He shrugged. “Changed my mind.
Paul scheduled me for rounds in the morning, so it’s probably not a good idea
to go out.” He glanced around, his brow creased. “So this is what you do when
we’re gone, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Seems kind of boring.”

“I enjoy it,” she said.

“So, you’ve got your big job
tomorrow. Are you nervous?”

“Not really. It’s just another
job.”

“It’s one of the biggest jobs in
recent memory. Are you sure you can pull it off? You can still back out if you
don’t think you can hack it.”

“I have to pull it off and
backing out isn’t an option. Wilkes is counting on us to get this job done, and
I’m going to do it right. But I don’t want to talk about it right now. I had
hoped to come out here to help get my mind off it. That’s why I wanted to go
with the others tonight.”

He took a few steps toward her,
standing much closer to her than Rachel liked. “Well, since King’s in Los
Angeles until tomorrow and the others are gone for the night, I guess I’ll have
to volunteer to take your mind off the job.”

The strong stench of tequila
wafted from his breath and toward Rachel. She stepped back from him. “I’ll
probably go inside soon and rest up.”

“What, don’t want to spend time
with me?”

“It’s not you, Eric. Like you
said, I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Back to the job, are we? That’s
all we ever talk about.”

“That’s what our lives consist
of, rounds and jobs.”

“It must have been hard for you,
growing up here.”

Confused at the strange turn in
conversation, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“You never got to go do high
school things, like others girls your age. Instead you did rounds and jobs.”

“Somehow I don’t think I would
have done well in high school,” she said, laughing. “I’m not exactly pep squad
material.”

“You’re right. That’s definitely
not you.” Eric paused. “But there are other things you missed out on. You never
got to do the dating thing.”

As the words left his lips,
stale air wrapped around her. Though she was accustomed to Eric’s inappropriate
comments, tonight his eyes seemed different, as if they were seeing every part
of her. She regretted not taking the shot of tequila, positive it would have
made the exchange and his presence easier to digest.

“I never wanted to do the dating
thing,” she said.

“Surely you don’t want to go
through life not knowing what it’s like to be touched by a man.” He moved
closer to her. “Don’t you want to know how good it can be?”

Rachel shifted her weight and
backed up again. Dangerously close to the oak tree, she became concerned with
being cornered against the bark. “Eric, I don’t think we should have this
discussion,” she said.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he said,
with a condescending tinge in his tone. “You’re waiting for him, aren’t you?
You keep hoping that one day King’s going to tell you he wants you.”

Rachel swallowed, and hoped Eric
couldn’t see the scarlet streak spreading across her cheeks and creased
forehead. “I...I’m not quite sure I know what you’re talking about.”

Eric guffawed. “You think I don’t
know? That I don’t see how you look at him? Even an idiot could figure out what
scenarios start running through your head every time he walks into the room.”

“Eric—”

“Are you that stupid to think he
would want anything to do with you? You’re the hired help, Rach. The only thing
he’d want is to use you.” He rested his hand beside her on the tree trunk, his
whisper harsh and the toxic fumes of alcohol harsher. “You can do so much
better than him. One night with me, and I’ll make you forget that King ever existed.”

Rachel threw her hands up.
“That’s it. This conversation is over.” She jerked sideways and moved around
him so she could go back to the house.

“You better forget it, Rach,” he
called from behind her. “It’s never going to happen with him.”

She grabbed the radio off her
belt and let George know she was leaving the grounds for the night.

Rachel hit the
mat with a thud. She laid still and tried to catch her breath. Paul’s face
appeared over her. “We’re finished. I’m not sparring with you anymore. That’s
the third time you’ve gone down today.”

“I know, I know.”

“Are you worried about tonight?”

Rachel sat up. Her frustration
peaked at the same question being asked of her over and over by everyone she
ran across that day. Of course she was worried. She had promised Donovan
perfection. She couldn’t be sure of the consequences if one thing went wrong.

“Hey, Rach,” Paul said. “Still
alive down there?”

“Yes, I’m worried about tonight.
Every last detail is planned, every possibility is accounted for, but what if
something happens? I don’t want to be responsible for that.”

He sat down beside her. “This
job comes with a lot of pressure, maybe too much. You’re not just doing it for
Donovan, you’re doing it for Graham Wilkes. Nobody would blame you if you
dropped out now. Someone else can do it, maybe someone from Graham’s camp.”

“No, they can’t, which is why
it’s my assignment. Wilkes doesn’t have any women on his payroll, remember?
That’s why he farmed it out to Donovan.”

“True, but we could find someone
else with time.”

“But Donovan volunteered me. I
can’t let him down. Backing out now would reflect poorly on not only me, but
him as well.”

“Are you sure you want to do
it?”

Rachel wasn’t sure about
anything at the moment, but she would do the job without complaint. “I’ll be
fine.”

“Good. Maybe you ought to go
rest.”

“Paul, I think I’m old enough to
decide when I need to rest.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I keep
forgetting you’re an adult now.”

“It’s okay.” She was silent for
a moment. “I think I’ll go rest for a while,” she said, and she got to her
feet.

He laughed. “As stubborn as
ever.”

In her bedroom, Rachel sat on
her bed with the intention of lying down for a bit. After a moment of sitting,
though, she became restless again. She decided it was best to take a shower,
knowing her anxiety level would never let her rest. She needed calm, and a hot
shower would go a long way in bringing it, even if it was temporary.

When she moved into the estate
eight years earlier, Donovan brought in contractors to enlarge her room by
knocking down walls between three adjoining rooms. He had the contractors work
in teams of five around the clock so Rachel would have her room ready quickly.

Rachel couldn’t contain her
excitement during construction, the commotion of the improvements being the
only thing that took her mind off the death of her parents. Donovan had the
contractors turn one of the rooms into a large bathroom, commenting that every
girl needed not only their privacy, but an extraordinary bathroom.

Within a week, he delivered on
his promise. Rachel had never seen such beautiful tiles and fixtures. The
bathroom not only had an extra-large shower with two shower heads at competing
angles, but a separate tub with whirlpool jets and a pillow to rest her head.
Around the tub were small recesses in the walls, sized to hold candles. Rachel
could not remember seeing a more extravagant bathroom.

Rachel never once took the
bathroom for granted, but it was the only bit of luxury she allowed herself.
Her bedroom was the stark opposite of the bathroom, white walls with only a
bed, a dresser, and an armchair. Donovan had instructed the contractors to make
the bedroom twice as nice as the bathroom, but Rachel had stopped him. She did
not want to take advantage of his generosity, since she was a stranger in his
home. Not only had he already done too much for her, she also concerned herself
with how long she would be at the estate, having learned quite early that
everyone dies and she could be left alone at any small twist of fate.

Standing under the steady stream
of the shower heads now, Rachel was glad she allowed Donovan to have the
bathroom built to his specifications. He was right that every girl needed an
extraordinary bathroom, a sanctuary to relax her cares away. She closed her
eyes and let the hot water roll off her back. She coaxed her tense muscles to
relax and took in deep breaths of the therapeutic hot steam.

Back in her bedroom, she dressed
in a pair of jeans and a black, ribbed tank top. Sitting on the edge of her
bed, she ran through every step of the job several times. The more she thought
about it, the more nervous she became, erasing the benefits of her shower. Time
became her enemy as her watch ticked off the minutes faster than ever before. A
freight train running at her at top speed, she couldn’t freeze the hands of
time to jump out of the path of collision. Before she knew it, the job would be
done, and she was sure she would never be the same.

No matter how strong her fears,
backing out of the job was the last thing on her mind. She needed to prove to
everyone she could do it. After several years, she gained acceptance among the
other residents of the estate. If the job did not go right, it could destroy
everything she achieved. Of course, so could the issues she now had with Eric.
She couldn’t avoid him forever, but after his behavior last night, she wanted
to stay far away from him until their conversation was a distant memory.

A polite knock on the door
interrupted Rachel’s thoughts. “Come in,” she said.

Donovan entered the room. Rachel
rose from the bed and greeted him, her eyes fixated on his smile. The sight of
him was of great comfort to her, and it helped relieve some of her apprehension
over the job. She wished he was going with her tonight to do the job, as it
would make it much easier for her.

“You’re back,” she said. “Did
your meeting go well?”

“Always does. Are you ready for
tonight?” he asked.

Rachel knew better than to let
her fears come through in her tone. “Yes,” she said.

“Paul mentioned you might be a
little nervous,” he said.

She wanted to strangle Paul for
saying anything of the sort, especially to Donovan. “I’m not nervous.”

“Eric also said you were acting
strange last night.”

Rachel bit back all the remarks
she wanted to make about Eric. That he would bring up such a thing to Donovan
seemed too much like sabotage, although she couldn’t fathom what his motive
might be. “I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. This is a big
job and you’ve never done anything like it before. Are you sure you can go
through with it? That you won’t falter at the last second?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Everything will
go smoothly with no hitches.”

He moved toward her. “You would
tell me if you didn’t want to do it, right?” he asked, not letting the subject
go.

No, she wouldn’t tell him
because whether she wanted to do it or not no longer mattered. She had accepted
the job and now she had to do it. No one ever denied Donovan when asked to do a
job, let alone back out of one once they were committed. “Trust me, I’m okay,”
she said.

She did not notice her fingers
twisting in front of her waist until he put his hands over hers. “You don’t
seem okay. I mean, you sound okay and that’s what you keep telling me, but I
know you’re not. You only do that thing with your hands when you’re nervous.”

Rachel flushed, unaware anyone
knew of her habit. “Maybe I’m a little anxious.”

Donovan brushed her hair out of
her eyes and rested his hands on her shoulders. He frowned. “You’re tense. So
much for being fine.”

His hands gave her shoulders a
quick squeeze, and crimson traveled around her neck. She hated being this close
to him and felt guilty for enjoying his touch and wanting more. Her attraction
to him burned through her. She tried to look at him with normal eyes, but she
knew they exposed the feelings she tried to hide from him. There were moments
when she thought he wanted her, too, but they were fleeting. A glance here, a
gentle touch there.

Donovan appeared uneasy, as if
he could read her innermost thoughts and did not feel the same. He cleared his
throat, and dropped his hands from her shoulders. Stepping back, he asked
again, “Are you sure about this?”

Rachel looked away from him,
unable to conceal her disappointment that he had retreated from her. “I’m sure,
Donovan. There’s no need to worry.”

“Good. When you’re dressed,
please meet Paul and I in the waiting room.”

As soon as he shut the door she
flopped backwards on her bed, wishing she could sink into the mattress and
disappear. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced Donovan out of her mind. More
important things deserved her full attention.

After she dressed, she walked to
the bathroom and pinned up her hair. She arranged the wig on her head and
examined her appearance in the oval, full-length mirror in the corner. The
blonde curls of the wig helped her appear at least five years older and
rendered her unrecognizable.

Donovan came up with the idea to
use a blonde wig to match the hair color of Jill Wilkes. Donovan assumed since
Cox chose Jill as his rape victim, sticking with a similar look would trigger
him into action again. Rachel was not afraid of Cox trying anything since she
could easily defend herself. She was more concerned with whether Donovan
preferred blonde hair over her own lackluster, brunette locks.

A few days earlier, Claudia
showed her how to apply makeup. Claudia had only been told that Paul was taking
Rachel to a musical. During her training session, Claudia gushed about all the
musicals she had seen and how much she wanted to go to Broadway someday to see
even more. Rachel soaked in all the tales, knowing that even though Paul was
taking her to a building where a musical was being performed, she would not be
in one of the seats watching the scenes unfold onstage.

Rachel was unfamiliar with
makeup in general, but learned the differences between blush and eye shadow,
lipstick and eye liner. Using her newfound knowledge and a large array of
makeup to choose from, Rachel selected more natural colors so she wouldn’t look
like a doll that a child used as a coloring book. Her lipstick, however, was a
striking bright red that matched her dress in shade. Her intention was to draw
Cox’s eyes to her mouth in order to better lure him.

The red dress fell to Rachel’s
ankles and had a slit in front of one leg that stopped close to the top of her
thigh without giving away any secrets. Thin spaghetti straps held up the top of
the dress, and the neckline plunged drastically into a V-shape, revealing
cleavage she never knew she had.

The body of the dress clung to
every curve and though she felt like she was on display, a sensual excitement
overrode her doubts. With a gleam of mischief, she reached into the front of
the dress and positioned her breasts for maximum exposure. She reassessed her
appearance with satisfaction.

She bunched up the skirt of the
dress into her hands and jogged back into her room, where she slipped into a
pair of open-toed red heels that revealed her manicured red toenails. Donovan
had a manicurist and pedicurist come in earlier in the day to perform their
magic on her, and she detested every moment of the pampering, even though she
knew it was necessary.

The shoes were not as quick a
trick to learn as the makeup. She spent three weeks practicing in them before
she could go from one end of a room to the other without falling. Her first
painful steps in the shoes resulted in a couple sprained ankles during her
crash course in walking. Now, she glided upstairs to the waiting room, where
Donovan and Paul sat engaged in conversation.

Both men stood as she entered
the waiting room, each with a different expression when they saw her for the
first time. Paul’s face wrinkled up. “I don’t know about this.”

“I think she looks fine,”
Donovan said. His eyes moved over her body, and Rachel hoped he had good
thoughts. “The dress is much better than we thought and it’s sure to work.”

“She might attract too much
attention. We can’t risk someone remembering her later.”

“Most men will take notice, but
there will be a lot of other women dressed in a similar fashion. Women won’t
notice her since they will be too busy trying to get Cox’s attention. As long
as she’s the one Cox goes for, then nothing else matters. This dress is the
best way.”

“It’s really...tight,” Paul
said.

“It could be much worse. I think
they did a great job picking this one out. It’s perfect.”

“Excuse me,” Rachel said, “but
you don’t have to talk like I’m not here.”

“Okay then, how do you feel
about the dress? Be honest, Rachel.” Paul crossed his arms. His tone expected
her to side with him.

She shrugged to play it down so
as not to upset Paul, but also not to disagree with Donovan. “As long as the
dress does its job, it’s fine. Besides, it’s too late to try to find another
dress, so I don’t see why we’re having this discussion.”

“Alright, I’ll let it go, but I
still disagree.” Paul’s forehead creased. “Where’s your bag? We can’t forget
that.”

“I put it in the car earlier,”
she said.

“Are you both clear on what you
are to do?” Donovan asked. They nodded in response. “Good. Paul, go ahead and
pull the car around. I need to speak with Rachel alone for a moment.”

After he left, Donovan moved
closer to her. “Are you sure?” he asked her once more.

“Yes,” she said. For a moment,
she forgot all about the job, unable to focus with his body so close to hers.
She wanted to grab his shirt, pull him closer, and kiss him. She restrained
herself, knowing that nothing would be accomplished through such a scene.

The ups and downs of not knowing
how he felt about her, if he felt anything at all, frustrated her to no end. If
only she could ask him why he violated her personal space every time they were
alone together, why he intruded on her thoughts all day long, and why he
wouldn’t let her rest at night as he invaded her dreams.