Read Tell Me No Lies Online

Authors: Elizabeth Lowell

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

Tell Me No Lies (44 page)

BOOK: Tell Me No Lies
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"All right." Stone's voice was clipped, harsh. "But you won't have to waste time calling the FBI. Someone will be right here with you. A safety precaution."

Catlin weighed whether or not to argue the point, then decided not to. Allowing Stone to assign an FBI agent to cover them was the least confining way to let him feel in control.

"You can use the ten minutes, plus whatever our travel time is, to throw a surveillance net around the rendezvous point," Catlin said. "After that, it should be simple enough to keep track of us with the kind of rolling surveillance that the FBI invented. If it comes to a foot job, give it to O'Donnel. He's as good as anyone I've seen."

O'Donnel smiled. "Put it in writing, huh? It looks so nice in the file."

Stone smiled faintly. "That's okay as far as it goes. We'll put a beeper in Lindsay's purse to – "

"No." The word was flat, hard. "No wires, no beepers, no guns. We're going to be searched."

"Christ," muttered O'Donnel.

"Amen," Stone said. He smoothed his palm thoughtfully over his silver hair. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"We've got some really small stuff that no one would notice."

"I'm not betting Lindsay's life on it. Besides," Catlin added, "unless they've upgraded those electronic 'burrs' a lot in the past few years, they're nothing to depend on."

Reflexively Stone reached for his cigarettes. He pulled out the pack, realized where he was and swore.

"I don't like it," he said, jamming the pack back into his shirt pocket. "We don't even know what you're going up against. Do you?"

Catlin thought of all the combinations of players that might occur. Wu might be foolish – or suspicious – enough to show up at the transfer. If so, he would have bodyguards. Comrades Zhu and Pao would doubtless want to be in at the kill, to witness the purchase of the politically damning bronzes. Yi would probably be there, too, whether willingly or not. His dear comrades wouldn't trust him out of their sight.

"How many people came to LA with the official Chinese delegation?" Catlin asked finally.

"Twelve," said Stone. He hesitated, then added, "Our intelligence is that at least six of them are soldiers. You'll have to assume that they'll be armed."

"Shit," Catlin muttered. "What does intelligence say about the bronzes?"

Again Stone hesitated.

"If anyone in this mess has a 'need to know'," snapped Catlin, "I do."

"Word is that they came in under diplomatic seal along with a shipment of household goods for a member of the Taiwanese consulate staff," Stone said. "That's rumor, not hard intelligence."

Catlin shrugged. "I'll take it. It's the only foolproof way to get something the size of the four bronzes into the country."

"Four?" O'Donnel asked.

"Chariot, charioteer and two horses. Half to two-thirds life-size, according to Chen Yi."

O'Donnel whistled. "No wonder they brought all the soldiers. That's quite a treasure they're guarding. How much do they want?"

"A million."

"You going to give it to them?"

"Yes, "Catlin said.

"In cash?" O'Donnel asked dubiously.

"Bank transfer. Hong Kong."

O'Donnel thought about it, then shook his head. "Even so, you're running a hell of a risk. Just you and Lindsay against all those soldiers. Unless you figure Chen Yi to throw in on our side?"

"Not a chance," Catlin said succinctly. "He has his own ass to cover. That's why I agreed to be Lindsay's bodyguard."

Stone grunted, reached for a cigarette, remembered and swore. "I don't like it. If we lose you on the way to the bronzes, you're way up a very shitty creek with no way to paddle home."

Catlin shrugged. "I've spent most of my life like that."

Stone's smile was as thin as a razor. "Yeah, I guess you have, haven't you? If anyone could do it and come out smelling like a rose, you could."

"The bronzes are probably coming in by van," Catlin said. "They're giving me the van to drive away in."

O'Donnel whistled again. "When they do it, they do it right."

"Lindsay will inspect the bronzes," continued Catlin.

"How long will that take?" Stone asked. "Given the fact that it might be the only chance in her lifetime to look at Qin's bronze army," Catlin said, smiling, "it will probably take as much time as I give her. Fifteen minutes, say. Then ten minutes to transfer funds from one Hong Kong bank to another."

"Which ones?" demanded O'Donnel.

"My bank's name won't help you, and I won't know the name of the receiving bank until Lindsay approves the bronzes."

"Any chance the bronzes are fakes?" O'Donnel asked.

"That would make Chen Yi a very happy man, and put our asses right on the firing line with the rest of the PRC," Catlin said dryly. "The people doing the selling are very confident of the goods, or they wouldn't let Lindsay within fifty miles." He hesitated, then shrugged. "But there's always a chance of fakes, I suppose, just like a snowball in hell has a chance of staying frozen."

Stone grunted. "Okay. Five minutes to get down to business. Fifteen minutes with the bronzes. Ten minutes with the banks. Half an hour total. That's not much time for us to get everything in place, especially if the bronzes are in a low traffic area where we'll stick out like daisies on shit. If that's the way it is, we'll have to come in on titty-fingers."

"If the deal goes down in someone's shop," Catlin said, "you should have a clear view of the bronzes being loaded. You can close in as soon as Lindsay and I get in the van. If it's a warehouse job, add fifteen minutes to load the bronzes. If a van doesn't come out by then, come in and get us."

Assuming, of course, that the FBI hadn't lost them somewhere on San Francisco's narrow, steep streets. No one mentioned that possibility, however. It was just one of the many risks that would be taken because there was no other choice. For several minutes there was silence while Stone turned the plan over in his mind, probing for weaknesses. There were many, but given the restrictions of time and information, there was little to be done.

"All right," Stone said finally. He looked at Catlin and asked, "You recognize anyone you saw today?"

"Lee Tran, a.k.a. Tom Lee."

Stone paused. "You sure?"

"Very."

"Be damned. Spying isn't his style. Recognize anyone else?" Stone asked.

"No."

"Too bad. Well, I've got some calls to make," Stone said. "I don't want to tie up your phone. Stay here, Terry. I'll send over some more mug shots. Maybe Catlin and Lindsay can ID somebody for us."

Catlin went to the hall door, opened it and glanced casually up and down the hall. No one was in sight. Catlin turned away from the door and silently signaled. Stone walked out. O'Donnel locked and bolted the door behind him and turned back just in time to see Catlin closing the bedroom door behind himself.

"Going to help Lindsay shower?" O'Donnel asked innocently.

"I'm going to take my own advice," Catlin retorted.

"Which is?"

"A nap. Hong Kong banks open real early, California time."

The door shut firmly behind Catlin. He went to his suitcase and took out a small, narrow wedge. Using the heel of his hand, he silently tapped the wedge into the thin line between bedroom door and frame. Any attempt to open the door from the living room would only result in jamming the wedge in even tighter. It wasn't that Catlin thought someone was going to come sneaking into the bedroom. It was simply that he knew Lindsay would sleep better in the certainty that only she or Catlin could open the bedroom door.

The bathroom door was closed. The sound of the shower was very clear for a moment, then stopped. Catlin hesitated before he turned away from the bathroom door, went to the closet and looked at the clothes Lindsay had brought to San Francisco. When they went to see the bronzes, he wanted her to wear something easy to move in and not of a color that would make her an obvious target. As the call would probably come in the middle of the night, everything should be ready in advance.

The hum of a hair dryer came from the bathroom as Catlin went expertly through Lindsay's clothes. Finally he selected jeans and a soft blue-gray cashmere sweater. Her running shoes were next, followed by a supple suede jacket in a shade of blue that was as dark as her eyes. He draped the clothes over a chair and put the shoes nearby.

The sound of the hair dryer still came from the bathroom. Catlin hesitated, then went to the door and knocked lightly. "Lindsay?"

"Come on in. I'm decent."

Only the knowledge that the bathroom was bugged kept Catlin from expressing his disappointment. He opened the door and went in – and then stood very still, looking at Lindsay.

She was in front of the sink, drying her hair. The bathroom was steamy and scented with her perfume. Catlin hardly noticed the tantalizing aroma, for he was too caught up in the picture Lindsay made to have attention left over for anything else. She was wearing a pale rose teddy with lace flowers placed in such a way as to make the dark pink tips of her breasts into the center of the flowers. The sight of Lindsay's graceful twisting movements as she brushed and blow dried her hair drove everything from Catlin's mind but memories of how she had softened and run like honey in his hands, of her nails pricking him to full awareness and of her shivering cries of completion when he came deep inside her.

Quietly Catlin cursed the electronic eavesdroppers that would prevent him from hearing those elemental sounds again. And then there was O'Donnel in the living room with nothing to do but listen to the silence. There was no real privacy in the hotel suite, no chance to make love to Lindsay until she screamed with pleasure. They wouldn't be alone again until Chen Yi's game was over.

Which was the same as saying that Catlin wouldn't be alone with Lindsay again. Ever.

He went to stand behind her, not stopping until he was so close to her that he could feel the scented warmth rising from her body. Slowly he bent and kissed her bare shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking at her eyes in the mirror.

"Better every second," she said, tilting her head to one side to give him free access to the curve of her neck, smiling as his mustache stroked her like a silk brush.

"I put out some clothes for you,'' he said against her neck.

As Catlin spoke, his hands slid beneath Lindsay's raised arms. He smoothed down the curving, feminine lines of her body to her thighs before allowing his hands to move up her torso. He cupped her breasts in his palms and watched her in the mirror as she shivered. He bent his head again, found the sensitive network of nerves at the shoulder joint and caressed them with his teeth.

"Th-thank you. For the clothes."

The passionate catch in Lindsay's voice went through Catlin like heat lightning. He felt her breasts change beneath his hands, her nipples rising and hardening at his touch. Blood pulsed hotly, settling between his legs, making him rise and harden even as she had until he could count each heartbeat in the erect flesh straining against his jeans.

"When we go to see the bronzes," Catlin said, tugging at Lindsay's nipples, smiling at the ripple of response he could see in the mirror, feel beneath his hands, "I want you to be wearing clothes that won't hobble you."

"I – " Her voice broke as she watched his hands shift until her nipples stood out between his fingers and he squeezed gently, rhythmically. "Y-yes," she said. "That's – fine."

Hands trembling, Lindsay shut off the hair dryer and put it aside. The hairbrush followed. But when she would have turned toward Catlin, he held her in a sensual vise, keeping her back to him. With exquisite care he scraped his fingernails over her erect nipples. He bit the nape of her neck gently as he teased and tugged at her breasts, feeling her helpless response in the movement of her hips against his thighs.

"I knew you'd see it my way," Catlin said, looking up, watching Lindsay in the mirror. She didn't notice. She was watching his hands on her body, and the expression on her face made him want to groan with anticipation. He throttled the sound, knowing how close the bug was. "You see, I want you to be able to move freely," he added in a gritty voice.

Catlin's hard male hand slid down Lindsay's body, stopping only when his fingers were cupped between the warmth of her legs. He felt the hot silk of the teddy and the two snaps that held the lingerie in place, preventing him from caressing the soft, humid flesh that was so close and yet so far away from his touch. Slowly he eased his finger between the snaps. Lindsay's breath came in sharply as she felt the tiny, probing caress.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice husky, taut. "Are-"

And then she could talk no longer, for Catlin's other hand had closed over her mouth, stifling her moan of pleasure as he teased the hungry, hardening nub of nerves hidden within the soft, feminine folds.

"Very sure," Catlin said. He tugged in slow motion, feeling the teddy's snaps give way one by one. "And quiet," he said, his voice almost hoarse. "That's why I put your running shoes out. No one will be able to hear a thing. So just relax, honey cat. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. Every…little… thing."

Lindsay met Catlin's eyes in the mirror. He smiled at her even as he caressed her. Almost helplessly she glanced down, and the sight of him touching her so intimately sent a wild, liquid pleasure coursing through her. He felt her sudden heat and wanted to groan in sheer male triumph. His hand slid up beneath the unsnapped teddy until he could feel her naked breasts. She arched her back, her eyes closed, and her tongue flicked rhythmically over the hard palm holding back her passionate cries.

Catlin's hand moved away from Lindsay's breasts, back down her body until he could tease the dark bronze hair concealing her velvet femininity. Fingers widespread, he pulled her suddenly against his aroused body, unable to bear the ache of his own hunger any longer. His palm rubbed rhythmically over her and his fingertips once more knew her liquid warmth.

Lindsay twisted slowly against Catlin, increasing the sensual contact even as one of her hands moved down to cover his, pressing him closer to her satin heat. Her other hand reached behind her back, hungry to pleasure him as intimately as he was pleasuring her.

BOOK: Tell Me No Lies
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