Silent Weapon (17 page)

You’re making the biggest mistake of your life,
he said, the difficulty of maintaining his composure apparent with every word he uttered.

I looked him square in the eye and said what had to be said. “We all make mistakes, Detective. This has to be done.
I
have to do it.”

He reached for me again but hesitated, then dropped his hands back to his side.
Merri, I need you to think about why you’re doing this.

That he kept calling me Merri and pressed me so urgently with that piercing gaze confused me. Was this some kind of trick to sway my decision? Nothing he could say or do would change my mind. He needed to understand that.

“You’re not going to change my mind. I will see this through.”

To prove you can do it even without your hearing?

Fury scorched the softer emotions churning inside me. “Don’t pretend to know how I feel,
Detective.
” I refused to use his name. It suddenly felt too intimate.

But I do know how you feel,
he argued.
You want to prove you can be whatever you choose to be and that’s great.
He managed a halfhearted smile.
That’s one of the things I admire most about you. But this is a mistake. This is too dangerous.

I blinked, startled by his words or my own reaction to them. I wanted to rant at him for his preposterous presumptuousness, but another part of me wanted to bask in the idea that he admired anything about me.

Don’t go back. This can be handled a different way.

Any lingering softer feelings his words had garnered vanished on the heels of his last statement. In other words,
I
couldn’t handle it.

I retreated a step, putting some distance between us. “I have to get back.”

Just listen to me,
he appealed.
Bowing out of this operation won’t mean you failed—

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I interrupted. “Just back off.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. I didn’t give him a chance to regroup. I gathered my purse and draped it over my shoulder and prepared to go. He was my support system. Our meetings weren’t supposed to go down like this.

When I reached the front door of the sanctuary-turned-gym, he stopped me with a hand on my arm. Reluctantly I faced him.

If I can’t change your mind, at least promise me you’ll be extra careful. Anything can happen at this point.

There was something about the absolute sincerity in his eyes that made me realize that he meant those words, all else aside. I didn’t know for sure what was going down between him and Adcock or even between him and Hammond; clearly all three men had a shared history that had left scars. But the one thing I could be unconditionally certain about was the fact that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to me.

For the second time since I’d met him, I so wished I could hear his voice. I tiptoed and placed a kiss on his cheek. He was the one looking startled now. “Thanks, Detective, I’ll be extra careful.”

He didn’t let me go. He held me still with those eyes as he moved in even closer, the subtle remnants of the aftershave he’d used more than twelve hours ago making me quiver inside. I liked the way he smelled. I blocked the images of Mason Conrad that tried to intrude. That had been different, purely physical. He made me feel alive…made me think of sex. But this man, he made me feel something different…something far more intense and intimate.

For a long time Barlow simply looked into my eyes, then he reached up and touched my lips. I drew in a shaky breath at the feel of his fingers on my mouth. After each touch he kissed me softly in that same spot. My lips, my cheek, my nose, each closed lid. Then he drew back. My eyes opened and I saw the desire in his. The heat that slid through me was like the man, mysterious and intense. He kissed me more thoroughly on the mouth, but stopped short of letting the moment go too far. This time when he pulled away, he smiled, something he rarely did.

Be very, very careful. We have unfinished business.

I left Detective Steven Barlow with one certainty in my mind: he and I would definitely continue that kiss at a later date.

I smiled and slid behind the wheel of my Jetta. At last, something to look forward to on a personal level.

By the time I got back to the house, Connie and Marjorie had already cleaned up the kitchen. I scrounged up leftovers and sat at the island while I ate. I was still floating a little from all that Barlow had said and…his kiss. It was really strange. I shivered. I couldn’t deny having enjoyed the sexual encounter with Mason, but the kiss Barlow—okay, Steven—and I had shared had been so much more real and powerful.

I sighed. Maybe there was something wrong with me besides the fact that I couldn’t hear.

Mason Conrad suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the island. He smiled at me and I blushed at the memories of what he’d done to me on the floor of the guest house’s laundry room. The idea that his memories were no doubt just as vivid made looking him in the eyes particularly difficult. My heart started to beat too fast and I told myself to calm down, but it was no use.

“Hi,” I murmured self-consciously.

He nodded, the smile widening. He pulled an envelope from the interior pocket of his jacket and laid it on the counter. He pushed it toward me, then walked around the island to where I sat.

My breath evaporated in my lungs and I told myself to stay calm. The thing that had happened between us in the guest house couldn’t happen again.

He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, as if doing so were as everyday an affair as taking a breath, then he left the room without further ado.

When I’d pulled myself together I opened the envelope he’d left behind. I unfolded the single sheet of paper it contained and read the handwritten note.
Merri, come to my room tonight if you feel comfortable moving so fast.

My fingers trembling, I quickly stuffed the letter back into the envelope. I looked around the big kitchen just to make sure no one had seen me or the note.

“Oh, God.” What in the world did I do now?

Okay, he’d said if I felt comfortable. That gave me an out. I had to keep that in mind. I stuffed the envelope into the pocket of my jeans and quickly cleaned up my dishes. The best thing I could do at this point was go to my room and lock the door. Mr. Hammond was nowhere to be seen, nor was Cecilia or Vargas. It wasn’t like I was going to learn anything tonight.

I’d almost gotten to my room, almost made it to safe territory, when I ran smack into Luther Hammond in the corridor between the kitchen and my destination.

He smiled, gestured to my room and waited while I went inside. I pulled the PDA from my purse and offered it to him since he apparently had something to say. My heart thundered so hard I feared he would hear it. I refused to consider that he wanted anything less than hard work from me. Having two men display a certain desire for me was more than adequate, considering I hadn’t gotten a second look in two years.

When I read the message my employer had entered I was flabbergasted.
It seems my dear friend Conrad is quite taken with you. Shall I tell him to back off or is the feeling mutual?

What the hell did I say to that?

“It’s fine, Mr. Hammond,” I said, choosing what I hoped would be the safest course of action for my cover. “The feeling is…mutual.” The words rang hollowly inside me, but what else could I do? My boss, a mobster, was standing in my room. I was alone. He wanted to know if his right-hand man was acceptable to me. If I intended to stay in this operation, I had to keep the players happy. I thought about Mason’s note. At least, I had to keep them happy to a degree. “I just need to go slow.”

Mr. Hammond nodded, then entered another message.
Excellent. Good night.

When he’d left I took a deep, calming breath and counted to twenty before racing to the door and locking it. I leaned against it and pulled the note from my pocket. What in the world had I gotten myself into?

I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? I worried that when I didn’t go to Conrad’s room he would come to mine. I tossed and turned. It wasn’t like I would hear him breaking down the door if he chose to, though I doubted that scenario. Even so, I’d lain there watching the door, expecting the knob to turn any minute, until exhaustion had gotten the better of me.

Not taking any chances on running into him, I’d steered clear of the study this morning. He had evidently been tied up in meetings there. I performed all my chores throughout the whole house before finally going to that last room. It was lunchtime and I’d already seen that Hammond and the usual group, including Conrad, were gathered around the dining table. Now was my best shot at getting my work done in the study without bumping into the man who’d given me my first orgasm in more than two years. I almost laughed at that. He was good…would be good at what came next. I was single. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want him?

He’s a killer, a little voice reminded.

Enough said.

I straightened the books on the shelves, then moved to Mr. Hammond’s desk. I did the same thing every day. I surveyed every visible paper or note as I dusted. The desk always took me longer than the entire rest of the room combined. Today would be no exception.

As I lifted one set of documents, a note beneath the stack snagged my attention. “Mathers, 8:00 p.m., Tuesday night.”

Was Mathers coming here? Jeez, Barlow was right. This was all about to come to a head. My heart knocked hard against my chest. Tomorrow was Tuesday.

I set the papers back down exactly where they had been and moved on to the next object on his desk, the calendar. I flipped to Tuesday and studied it while I pretended to tidy the desktop.

If I had been able to hear or if I had been paying proper attention to the changes in the atmosphere around me, I would have known when the door opened and someone walked across the room. But I was deaf and distracted so I didn’t recognize Hammond’s presence until he stood right beside me.

I gasped, jerked back from the desk as guiltily as if he’d caught me with my hand in his personal safe.

But his smile and the it’s-okay gesture kept me from going into an all-out cardiac episode. He pointed to the phone. I saw the light blinking there.

I nodded and moved out of his way. This was my chance to eavesdrop on a call. I couldn’t leave the room. Summoning my bravado, I moved over to the conference table and started to polish the gleaming mahogany I’d already polished once. Since he made no move to usher me out, I continued.

I told you not to call me like this.

I started to tremble with excitement. This could be important. I couldn’t take my eyes off him even if it meant risking that he might catch me watching him.

I’m going to take care of him tomorrow night. He’s a dead man. Do you understand me?

His face had darkened with fury. I was damned glad that kind of anger wasn’t focused at me. I forced myself to look away long enough to spray more polish so he would hear the hiss and feel comfortable that I paid him no heed.

Push me and you’ll suffer the same fate as your friend Mathers. This conversation is over.

He slammed the receiver back into its cradle. I shifted my gaze back to the conference table. When I looked up again, nearly a half a minute later, he was gone from the room.

It took another two or three minutes for me to gather up my courage. When I had, I moved back to the desk and pretended to tidy it some more. As I did I checked the calendar again, noting the location of tomorrow night’s eight o’clock meeting with Mathers.

All I had to do now was get back into town so I could inform Barlow.

After last night, I wasn’t sure that was feasible. Would anyone be suspicious of my frequent trips down the mountain? Whether it drew unwanted attention or not, I had to try to get to Barlow.

The door to the study suddenly swung open once more. Cecilia, all fake smiles and looking as regal as ever, strode into the room.

She stuck out her hand for the PDA, which I, without hesitation, passed to her. I ignored her as she typed a lengthy message. I didn’t even spare her a glance until she passed it back to me.

Today is reading day at the library. Tiffany would like to go. Mr. Hammond requested that you take her. Would you please change into more appropriate attire and prepare to do so?

There was no question that I loved Tiffany and was more than happy to take her anywhere. The part that got me was why in the world was Cecilia smiling? She couldn’t possibly be happy about this.

“Sure,” I told her. “I’d love to.”

She gave me a cool nod and left the room, clearly assuming I would do as I was told.

By the time I had changed into slacks and a blouse, Tiffany waited for me by the front door. The excitement on her face almost allayed my misgivings about Cecilia’s behavior.

I offered her my hand and she accepted it. I opened the front door and started out. I couldn’t say for sure what made me look back, maybe the prickling sensation on the back of my neck. For whatever reason, I did look back. Cecilia stood farther down the hall, in the shadows, staring after us. The smile she flashed me as our eyes met was pure evil. I didn’t return the gesture. I closed the door behind me and hurried to my car. Someone had pulled it around to the front steps in anticipation of our departure.

Tiffany climbed into the back seat and I fastened her seat belt before going around to the driver’s side and sliding behind the wheel. She had several books in her arms, probably ones that needed returning.

I waved to the guard at the gate of the Hammond property and did the same when I reached the final gate that allowed us to leave Ledges behind.

The eerie smile on Cecilia’s lips kept haunting me. I just couldn’t figure out what she was up to. I fished around for my cell phone. I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t call Barlow and have him meet us at the library.

I frowned. My phone wasn’t where I usually kept it in my purse. I dug frantically. Nothing. An alarm wailed in my brain. This was not good. Alternating my attention between the road and my purse I hunted some more. It simply wasn’t there. I took a curve a little too fast and even Tiffany’s head came up. I smiled at her in the rearview mirror and focused my full attention on the road. I could call him from the library. It wouldn’t matter. No one would have that phone bugged.