Silent Weapon Read online

  One of the men came over to the table to nab his still half-full coffee cup before I could load it onto my tray.

  I’m not finished with this, sugar. He winked at me.

  I managed a tight smile.

  He patted my bottom and I gasped. You’re a pretty thing, he said as he performed a quick visual sweep of my body.

  His attention suddenly jerked back to the others seated around the fireplace once. His gaze swung back to me with an expression akin to mortification. I’d missed whatever Hammond said to him, but judging by my employer’s lethal stare it hadn’t been nice.

  I left the room with my tray. By the time I returned, two of the men, including Mr. Roaming Hands, had left. I wondered if the abrupt departure had anything to do with me. Hammond and the other gentleman were at his desk now going over something that looked like blueprints.

  I slowed my movements, taking my time so that I could delay my departure as long as possible. Covertly I watched the two men. I could see Mr. Hammond’s face quite well. His side of the conversation appeared to be in response to various questions. Yes, that’s the plan. No, a date has not been set just yet. Things are proceeding as scheduled.

  As I set the last glass on the tray the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. I looked down just in time for Hammond to glance in my direction. My heart jerked at the close call. When I’d regained my nerve I shifted my gaze in that direction again.

  Everything had changed in those few moments. Hammond’s face had hardened to a mask of unpleasantness I had not seen before. The other man’s profile looked every bit as flinty. If he gets in the way, you know what to do, Hammond stated with what looked like malice.

  Another of those sudden jolts kicked behind my sternum. I didn’t get the visitor’s response, but it was not nice. Even from a side view his scowl was clearly visible.

  I don’t like doing business this way, Hammond told him. But I won’t let him or anyone else stop me. I’ve come too far to turn back now. I put him where he is, I can remove him just as easily.

  The governor? The mayor? All the political possibilities ran through my mind. Had his money put some important figure in office? That’s certainly how it sounded. But then he could be talking about the CEO position of some corporation or even one of his main contacts. He was talking again so I forced myself to focus on his lips.

  You tell Mathers if this deal goes south he’s a dead man.

  I dropped the cup in my hand.

  I scrambled to clean up the mess. I glanced up to find both men staring at me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hammond,” I offered softly. I don’t know how I kept my face devoid of emotion, but somehow I did. At least I hoped I did.

  He smiled and nodded.

  I gathered the last of the dishes and started from the room, but not before I saw Hammond say, Don’t worry, she’s deaf.

  Thank God.

  I barely managed to get the heavy tray back to the kitchen with my legs going all rubbery and shaky on me. Mason Conrad glanced at me as I shoved the tray onto the counter. I finagled a smile for him. He returned the gesture, then shifted his attention back to the paper in his hand.

  I don’t know how I did it but somehow I completed my chores for the day. The next few hours dragged by like a mini-eternity. Hammond’s words kept playing over and over in my head. You tell Mathers if this deal goes south he’s a dead man. Mathers, the West Coast connection.

  I had to find a way to get to Barlow. To tell him that something was definitely going down, or, at the very least, on the table. I just had to find out what. But Barlow needed to know that a higher state of alert was needed.

  At least now I knew the truth…Barlow had been right about Hammond. He wasn’t the kind, generous man he pretended to be. He was ruthless and a killer.

  That evening I waited at the specified location, my nerves jangling. The smell of overdone hot dogs wafted from behind the counter of the hole-in-the-wall fast-food spot. At first I’d been bothered by Barlow’s choice of a café for the meeting. Then, when I arrived, I realized why he chose it. No one who operated in Hammond’s circle would be caught dead in this place.

  I didn’t even know anyone who would patronize such a sleazebag joint. I stared at the cola on the grimy table in front of me and wondered whether I should risk a sip.

  Half a dozen other patrons, most less-than-friendly-looking and definitely the type one would find on skid row, loitered around the small dining area. The tiled floor hadn’t seen a mop in so long that it was hard to tell if the color was red or brown.

  I swallowed. Told myself I wasn’t hungry, though I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  Barlow walked in, and all thought of grime and the various food poisonings one might get from dining here flew out of my mind. He didn’t spare me a glance, simply strolled up to the counter and ordered a hot dog and cola.

  My throat constricted and I hoped the order was part of his cover. But when he slathered the hot dog with mustard and ketchup and took a bite I knew it wasn’t. My stomach twisted at the mere thought.

  He sat down at my table, looked at my untouched drink and then at me. You aren’t hungry?

  I peered at the hot dog in his hand and tried my best not to let my distaste show. “I’m fine,” I lied.

  Barlow jerked his head toward the counter. “Frank here makes the best hot dogs in town.”

  I looked around the small, ah…quaint café, and nodded. “That’s good to know.”

  Barlow leaned forward as if he didn’t want anyone to hear his next comment. Don’t let the appearance fool you. He shoved the hot dog toward me. Try it.

  I stared at it, then shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I would be the first to admit the concoction smelled good, but there was no way I was taking a bite out of it.

  Come on, Walters, be a sport.

  I licked my lips and told myself he’d thrown down a gauntlet. I couldn’t refuse.

  Praying I wouldn’t regret it, I took a bite. The taste exploded in my mouth. Not the ketchup or mustard but the spicy meat. “Wow,” I confessed. “It is good.”

  Barlow smiled, one of those lopsided ones that only he could pull off. Truth is, everything behind that counter is more spotless than the highest-rated joint in the city.

  Two hot dogs later, I got down to business and told Barlow all I’d learned during Hammond’s meeting and about the man in the garage. I’d given him the crumpled business card. He made no comments about the name embossed there. I could only assume it wasn’t familiar to him. He’d have to check it out, I supposed.

  You didn’t recognize any of his guests? He’d asked that one already. He seemed much more concerned about the meeting today than the poor man in the garage the other night.

  I mustered my patience. “No.”

  Anything else to report?

  I thought about that one for a moment. I wasn’t sure I needed to tell him this part, but then again…

  “Mason Conrad,” I began. “I think I can get close to him.” The memory of him touching my cheek made me shiver. “I think he…likes me.”

  The reaction I got was far from what I had expected. I blinked, resisted the urge to lean as far from Barlow as possible. His glower was lethal.

  I want to be absolutely certain we’re clear on this, Barlow said, his face as hard as granite. Under no circumstances are you to get involved with any of these men. Mason Conrad is a killer. He could be using you. Just because you believe they’ve all accepted you over the course of the past week doesn’t mean it’s true. Conrad may be attempting to get under your defenses.

  I shook my head. He didn’t know all the details. “You don’t understand. He—”

  No. A muscle flexed in his tense jaw when he snapped out the word. His entire demeanor loudly telegraphed his fury. You don’t understand, do not get involved with Conrad. Stay clear or I will pull the plug on this operation.

  “I should get back.”

  I’d stormed out of the café and reached my car before he slowed me
down. He took me by the shoulder and turned me around to face him.

  I know this is difficult. Your eyes tell you one thing, while your brain warns of another. Hammond and his people put on a great show. But Conrad is a killer. He won’t hesitate to kill you if he suspects for a single second that you’re up to something. Don’t doubt my word. You can bet that guy you saw in the garage the other night is a goner.

  I looked away. Didn’t want to hear his words. I wanted to argue that Vargas was that man’s killer. Maybe I had been naive about the thing with Mason Conrad, but I wasn’t completely stupid. I didn’t appreciate Barlow treating me as if I were a total idiot.

  He took my face in his hands. My breath stalled somewhere in my throat. Listen to me, he said when he’d forced my gaze back to his lips. You want to believe the best in people and that can be a mistake. Trust me on this, Merri. Stay away from Mason Conrad.

  I opened my mouth to argue with him. To tell him I wasn’t a complete fool, but something in his eyes stopped me. He was no longer looking at my eyes…his gaze had dropped to my lips. When he at last looked at me again I saw the longing there. Heat detonated inside me, warring with the feelings of frustration his reprimand had elicited.

  As if he’d realized his mistake he released me, backed away a step. Be careful. With that final warning he walked away. I watched in astonished silence.

  It had to be my imagination. I knew my limitations. It wasn’t possible that two men would be attracted to me. I was handicapped, for Christ’s sake. What did I have to offer anyone? I was the one suffering from the attraction malady, not the men in my life. Apparently I was also suffering from delusions.

  Maybe Barlow was right. Conrad was likely trying to determine if I was on the up-and-up. Barlow, well, he probably just felt sorry for me. I had to get a grip here. No man would really want me.

  My ego stinging, I got into my car and backed out of the parking lot. I drove, my thoughts preoccupied with Barlow’s warning. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Conrad wasn’t really attracted to me.

  It was a ploy to distract me. To get close to me. The same ploy I’d hoped to utilize. Only I lacked the experience to get one step ahead of my enemy. No matter how I tried to kid myself, it was becoming more and more clear that I was not cut out for this kind of work.

  Several blocks later I stopped for a light. I heaved a sigh and told myself I had to get over it. I had managed to bring Barlow some information. Something was going down with Hammond and his people. Some sort of deal. A man connected to Hammond’s organization was likely dead. That was something, wasn’t it?

  In my peripheral vision a couple on the sidewalk snagged my attention.

  Sarah and my brother.

  Oh, my God!

  I slid down in the seat, praying they wouldn’t look this way. If Michael saw me I would be done for. Between him and his wife they would put two and two together and come up with five…my scam would be uncovered. Although it was already dark, the street and shop lights made me plenty visible to pedestrians on the sidewalks. I should have insisted on meeting Barlow somewhere out of town.

  Sarah and Michael stopped and peered through the windows of a small shop. My curiosity getting the better of me, I squinted to see what they were looking at. My eyes went wide with recognition. A baby boutique. Sarah turned to Michael and smiled. He kissed her, then rubbed her tummy.

  She was pregnant! A big, goofy grin stretched across my face. I was finally going to be an aunt!

  The light changed and I let off the brake. I couldn’t resist one last look at my brother and my best friend. They looked so happy. They still stood in front of the shop, arms wrapped around each other.

  At least something was going right.

  My favorite sister-in-law was pregnant. My parents would be thrilled. A frown elbowed its way onto my face. Wait. Had she known before I left? Why hadn’t she told me?

  Maybe she’d only just found out.

  The urge to call her was very nearly overwhelming. But I couldn’t do it. Lying was something I found particularly hard to do. Especially when it came to my family. I couldn’t take the risk that she would recognize the lie in my voice if she asked how things were going at my school.

  I floated up the mountain, then smiled for the guard at each gate. I parked near the garage, didn’t encounter anyone else as I made my way inside and to my room. I’d dropped by a store I seldom shopped at and picked up a blouse before my meeting with Barlow. That way I wouldn’t return to the house empty-handed. I tossed my purchase onto the couch in my room and headed to the kitchen. I could use a bottle of water or a glass of iced tea. Anything to dampen my parched throat.

  What I really needed, I realized as I opened the bottle of Evian, was a long workout to burn off this adrenaline. Another run at this time of night wouldn’t be too smart. Between the meeting with Barlow and the close encounter with Sarah and Michael I was pretty worked up.

  I decided on a stroll around the house to see what everyone was up to. I had to keep my eyes open for any additional info or any new faces.

  No one in the study or dining room. I glanced at my watch, almost nine. Maybe Hammond had gone out. Cecilia was likely upstairs tucking Tiffany in for the night.

  I hesitated at the door of the den and took a second look. Tiffany was huddled on the sofa watching TV Land, her favorite channel. Surprised that she was still up I walked into the room and pinned a smile into place. It wasn’t difficult, I loved the kid.

  When she looked up, my smile faltered.

  Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

  I immediately sat down next to her and took her into my arms. She sobbed even harder then. I rocked her like a baby and murmured kind words. She cried for a long time before she looked up at me and said, I hate Cecilia.

  I shrugged and tried to look confused, but she ignored my signals.

  She’s mean to me all the time. I hate her. Tiff’s bottom lip poked out. I think she only keeps this job because she wants my dad to like her.

  I made no comment, just held her tightly and smoothed a hand over her silky hair. How could I have misjudged Cecilia so profoundly? I’d thought she seemed nice. Well, there had been a moment yesterday when I was reading to Tiffany that I’d thought she didn’t look too pleased, but nothing really specific.

  I closed my eyes and held on to the sobbing child. What if I was in too deep here? Hell, I couldn’t even spot the bad guys when I’d had advance knowledge of their identity.

  Tiffany pulled out of my arms and stared up at me, her cheeks wet with tears. I wish you were my au pair.

  I tugged my PDA around to where she could see it. Somehow it had ended up behind me. I offered it to the child. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  Tiffany just stared at me as if to say, sure you do.

  I’m going to bed. She climbed out of my lap and headed toward the door. I wasn’t sure what to say. Any words I’d thought might be useful deserted me when my gaze landed on Cecilia standing in the doorway.

  When our gazes collided she managed a stiff smile. She turned as Tiffany passed her and followed her charge. Despite her smile I hadn’t missed the sheer hatred in her eyes. Apparently my blossoming friendship with Tiffany bothered Cecilia more than I had suspected.

  Way more.

  Chapter 12

  I wasn’t quite so chipper the next morning as I went about my duties. I hadn’t slept well the night before. I kept thinking of the look on Cecilia’s face when she discovered Tiffany and me in the den. I couldn’t be sure how much she’d overheard of what the little girl had to say. The best I could hope for was that she would assume I hadn’t understood any of the conversation, thereby preventing her from being even more angry than she no doubt would be considering the child’s assertions.

  The idea of her taking out her fury on Tiffany worried me. Had actually kept me distracted all morning. I looked for the child first thing. Smiled at her while she devoured her cereal in the dining room with her fa
ther. He’d noticed and gifted me with one of those looks that said he appreciated my affection for his daughter.

  I just couldn’t reconcile the two sides of the man. The man I had come to know over the past week was gentle and generous. He loved children and went to extraordinary means to help those less fortunate—which was most of the civilized world. Yet, I’d seen with my own eyes that he would order the execution of another human being if things didn’t go as planned or if he wasn’t happy with the outcome of a particular venture.

  I smoothed the fresh pillowcase on the fluffy pillow and set it into place. I had to remember, God knows Barlow had told me often enough, that I wasn’t here to understand these people. I was here to gather information and pass it along, nothing more.

  With a heavy sigh I bent down and picked up the pillowcases and sheets I’d removed from the bed. This was the last room. Mason Conrad’s room.

  His name popped into my head at the same instant the scent permeating the sheets, an aroma that was uniquely his, filtered past my preoccupation. I felt overly warm instantly, as if he’d walked into the room and touched me the way he had before.

  I closed my eyes and forced away the ridiculous thoughts. I just couldn’t keep dwelling on the way he looked at me or how kind he was to me. Barlow was right on that score. There was every reason to believe that Conrad might be using me, making sure I was who and what I’d claimed to be.

  Funny thing was, after a two-year drought, I was suddenly inundated with male attention, and quite frankly, I felt a little off balance.

  Before I’d trudged halfway across the room the door burst open and Tiffany bolted in.

  Hi, Miss Merri!

  I smiled, couldn’t help myself.

  “Good morning, Miss Tiffany,” I teased.

  She grabbed my left hand, causing me to have to shift my load to one arm. Come on, you gotta visit with me!

  I manufactured a look of confusion. “What?”

  Oops! She pressed her hand to her mouth. Guess I forgot. Then she gestured for me to follow her.