Girl Undercover 4 & 5: Ariel & Financial Devil (19 page)

“Mostly good,” Ian replied curtly. “The good news is that the waiter has found the shaker with the device.”

A shot of happiness ran through me. “Really? That’s great news! When can we pick it up?”

“As soon as I can scrape together five thousand bucks to give him in exchange.”

“What the… You’re kidding me!”

“No, that’s what he told me—if I want to see the thing again, that’s the price.”

I huffed. “What a little prick…”

“You can say that again. Naturally, the price isn’t the issue here—I have the money. I just don’t want that asshat to get his hands on it.”

“So what are you gonna do? Or maybe I should say, what are
we
gonna do about it?” I wanted to stop this hit from taking place as much as Ian did and for that we needed to hear the place Davis had mentioned where it would take place.

“I’ve already told him I’ll give it to him. Without losing my temper.”

“Smart.”

“I know. Did you expect anything less from me?”

I wanted to say that I did, but would save that for another time. “Of course not.”

“Good. So all we need to do now is make sure he’ll be at the place at the time he said with the device in his hands. When he gives it to me, you’ll show up with a gun and he’ll have to give it to me for free. This bloke isn’t bright enough to realize who he’s dealing with; he’s just trying to milk the most out of me.” Ian tskd. “I should’ve known better than to wear that Westmancott today…”

“What are you talking about?”

“The suit I was wearing. It costs $75,000 retail. Someone like our little helper, who prefers men over women and pays attention to clothes, would know that. He likely put two and two together, figuring that a man with such a suit can easily afford five thousand bucks. He’s probably thinking he’s getting shafted getting paid only a thousand for helping me.”

“Wow… it cost you
seventy-five grand
? For real?” I pictured Ian earlier today, as he’d come to pick me up in a town car for lunch. He had definitely looked especially good in that suit. Still, sharp or not, I couldn’t fathom how anyone would pay that much for a suit.

“Yep. I wanted to look good for you.” I could tell that Ian was smiling. “Can you blame me?”

I decided it was better to disregard that statement. “What’s the name of the bar?”

Ian told me the name, where it was located, and the time they were meeting. After discussing in more detail how we would take care of this, we disconnected and I headed to the health club.

***

I was supposed to show up at Fiore, the bar where Ian would meet the greedy waiter, at eight thirty to make sure he got the device without having to pay. My floor shift was over at eight. Because Nikkei was located right at the subway station where the train I needed to take ran, I didn’t leave early. Not only would it take me a mere fifteen minutes to get to the bar, but the train stopped only a block away from Fiore. I had plenty of time.

Or so I thought before realizing that the subway trains in New York City were not as reliable as I’d come to expect. So far, I had yet to experience any delays of any kind while living there. Of course, it wasn’t like I had to take the train all that often, so I didn’t really know.

It was only tonight that I learned just how messed-up these trains could be.

As the train I was in came to a halt between two stations, I wasn’t very worried at first. Surely, exactly like the conductor was promising, it would soon start moving again.

Only, it didn’t. When ten minutes had passed, pearls of sweat began to form in my armpits and around my hairline. I looked around the full train, as if that would somehow make the train start moving again.

What the fuck is going on here?

With each minute that passed after that, I was sweating more profusely and my heart was beating faster. Goddamn, why didn’t I take a cab instead? That way I could at least have left the car if we got stuck in traffic and run downtown. Moving on foot would have gotten me to the bar faster than just sitting there, crammed in between other cars. I might have arrived late, but at least I’d be able to notify Ian that I was having issues getting to the bar and he could figure out how to keep the guy around. Down underground, I didn’t have any reception, so Ian had no clue what was up.

I took deep breaths through my nostrils to calm my heart that was beating so hard by now it felt like it was about to explode in my chest. I told myself that Ian surely had brought the five thousand just for show. It didn’t really matter if I showed up and stuck a gun in the waiter’s ribs; all Ian needed to do to get the device was giving up the five thousand. So he would lose that money. Big deal. For a man who could afford a suit that cost seventy-five grand, it was nothing.

No need for me to get all upset about this even though it was now eight thirty and the train still wasn’t moving. Given that it had stopped almost as soon as I had boarded, it would take me another ten minutes to get to my destination. And that was if the train started moving right then. Which it didn’t.

But no matter how much I tried to calm myself by repeating that of course Ian had brought the money just to be safe, I couldn’t stop the horrible images that kept filling my mind as I waited for the damn train to finally get going. I saw the waiter furiously throwing the recording device on the ground when Ian told him he didn’t have the money, then crushing it with his foot. This meant I would have to go to the police after all and beg them to confront both Ron and Davis in order to stop the hit from taking place.

Having revealed my true identity, I would have no choice but to return to Los Angeles. I was no fool—the only way the NYPD would take my words seriously and confront an individual with no criminal record such as Ron was if I could prove that I was in fact an LAPD detective. Then they would have to listen to me. But to ensure I was legit, they would run a search on me first.

If they did that, it really would be all over for me. Not only my search for Nick’s killers as I’d have to leave Nikkei, but my career in law enforcement as well.

Oh, God.
I couldn’t stop searching for his killers…

The train suddenly shook into motion, bringing me back to the here and now. By the time I had arrived at the station next to Fiore, I was drenched in sweat, my hair plastered to my face and my shirt to my body. I didn’t care; all that mattered was that I got back above ground and found Ian, saw if he’d managed to get the device without me.

Oh, God, please make it so that he had.

As I set foot on the street, it was almost nine o’clock. I checked my phone for angry messages from Ian while jogging over to the bar. Having Googled the place earlier, I had committed to memory the photos displaying its bright green and red exterior.

There was no messages from Ian.

I spotted Fiore and rushed inside, bumping into people as I searched for Ian among the crowd there. Unfortunately, it was a big bar, not the small, intimate place I’d hoped for. After spending a couple of minutes ransacking the venue, I was about to give up when I noted a man who sat at the long bar counter with his head in his hands. He looked exactly like Ian.

I took a closer look. Wait, it
was
Ian.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to him and tapped his shoulder.

My heart sank as he lowered his hands and turned to look at me.
Oh, no, something’s wrong.

Ian motioned toward the empty barstool beside him. “You look like you could use a stiff drink. I could use another myself. What would you like?”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I mumbled, sitting down. “The train got stuck…”

“That’s okay. It’ll only cost Nina and her friend their lives. Unless you go to the cops and tell them who you really are so they can figure out how to stop the hit, of course.”

I sighed heavily. “What happened? He didn’t have it with him?” I couldn’t believe Ian had failed to bring the five grand. And if he had, I definitely couldn’t believe he was so stingy he’d refused to give it to the waiter to obtain the device. Something else must be up.

“Let’s order drinks first,” Ian said as the bartender stopped before us.

“I’ll have a dirty martini,” I said, feeling listless.

Ian smiled appreciatively. “I’ll have the same,” he told the bartender.

“Okay, now tell me what happened,” I said, not able to take the suspense any longer.

A sad expression fell over Ian’s features. “It’s broken.”

“What?” I went stiff. “So you actually got the device from him without my help, but then it turns out it’s broken?” No wonder Ian had seemed so dejected when I first spotted him.

“Yes, unfortunately. Getting it from him was the easy part.” He gave me a nudge and a meaningful smirk. “Even if I’d rather have kept the five grand.”

I looked down at the bar counter, feeling ashamed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I should’ve left earlier.”

“It’s okay, I’ll survive.”

The bartender returned with our drinks. I had a huge sip, savoring the burning sensation of the vodka sliding down my throat.

“Okay, let me just finish this and then I’ll head to the nearest police station,” I said, nodding at my drink that I put back down.

Ian glanced at me for a long, quiet moment, his eyes gleaming with humor.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” I hissed, not giving a damn if I’d been late and he’d lost five grand any longer. “Do you think it’s
funny
my career is over and that I’ll never find my husband’s killers?”

He cupped my chin then, looking deeply into my eyes. I instantly slapped his hand away. The nerve of this guy! Did he actually think I’d kiss him after such an insult?

“Gabi, it’s not broken. I was only kidding with you.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. What had he just said? That it wasn’t broken…?

His hand disappeared and then returned. He held his palm out to me. A tiny, round piece of metal was there. “Here it is. And it works fine. I even know where the hit is supposed to take place. At the Wyndham New Yorker Hotel in suite 201. As soon as I got the device back, I played that last part to find out.”

I stared at him. “Really? This better not be a joke.”

Ian smiled. “It’s not a joke. You can hear it for yourself if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll take your word for it.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “So if you got it back and we know where the hit will take place, why the hell did you look so damn miserable, hanging your head like that when I came? Don’t tell me it’s only because you had to shell out five grand. Money obviously isn’t that big a deal to you if you can drop seventy-five grand on a fucking suit. What’s the real problem?”

“Nothing at all. I swear. I was just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long couple of days and I haven’t gotten that much sleep this past week. As you may know.” He grinned at me to which I only rolled my eyes.

“And I didn’t have to part with my five grand either,” he added.

“You didn’t? Then how did you get it from him?”

“I have a gun too, remember? I just discreetly showed him that I had it tucked in my waistline and explained that if he left this bar with my five grand, he could look forward to getting his head blown off later tonight. That was all it took to get him to give me back my money and leave.”

“Really? Wow. What a pussy… So why exactly did you need my involvement?”

“I didn’t. I just thought you might want to be part of it. I’d have gotten the device out of him one way or another without paying him anything.”

I looked at him coolly. “Uh-huh. Then next time, please
ask
me first if I actually want to be part. I’d have been perfectly fine with you taking care of it all on your own since you’re so damned self-sufficient.” That last part had sounded a little too much like I was a child that had just found out she wasn’t special after all, which had been unnecessary, but it was too late now.

A triumphant look came over Ian’s face. “See? That’s
exactly
what I’m talking about.”

Chapter 8

After we had finished our drinks, I took a cab back home—the idea of sitting on a subway train was more than I could handle—and Ian went to drop off all the evidence we’d gathered with a messenger who would make sure it ended up in the right hands at the NYPD.

We were both on edge the entire following day, praying that the cops would be able to stop the hit on Nina and that friend of hers based on the information we’d provided them. Not being able to take part in the small sting operation the NYPD should have put together after receiving our anonymous tip was incredibly frustrating. I got a text from Ian in the late afternoon in which he told me he’d been so restless he swung by the hotel. There, he’d spotted a couple of guys that he was fairly sure were plainclothes detectives. Only time would tell if he was right.

As soon as I got home from work that night, I switched on the TV and found Channel One. It was fairly early still—nine p.m.—so I didn’t expect to learn much from the news. All we knew was that the hit was supposed to take place sometime tonight, which could mean anytime from about six till early tomorrow morning. And it would surely take a while before the media reported the thwarted hit to the public—that is if they did manage to thwart it. Still, on the off chance it had already happened and someone at the force had leaked it to the press, I felt better having the TV on.

There was a knock on my front door.

Stiffening slightly, I turned toward my hallway. Who was visiting me this late at night? And why hadn’t the person pressed the intercom downstairs to get into the building? Any time someone wanted me for whatever reason, they needed to first buzz me and ask me to open the building door. And the only reason anyone ever wanted me here in New York was to deliver food that I had ordered. Hardly anyone knew where I lived. Not even Ian knew my exact address. If it was him, surely I’d have received a text first in which he announced his arrival as well as asked for my address.

So then who the hell could it be?

Grabbing my gun out of my purse that I’d thrown on the floor, I brought it with me as I went to open my door. I checked the peephole, but all I could see was the shoulder of what appeared to be a man.