Past Sins (Silhouette Bombshell) Page 3

  “All right.” Olivia unfolded the paper and studied the full head shot of her target. What her eyes saw made her sway, but she braced herself before her client could pick up on her stunned surprise. Focusing intently to ensure her hands didn’t shake, she shuffled to the next page where the target’s name, address and other stats were listed.

  The name and address matched the face but she couldn’t analyze that right now. Her movements deliberate, she refolded the pages and slid them into her jacket pocket.

  “I’ll post a personal ad in the Chicago Tribune when the assignment is completed. The ad will contain a number for you to call for the final instructions on depositing the remainder of the fee. If you fail to make the deposit, you’ll be my next target. There won’t be any place you can hide from me.”

  Doubt clouded his expression again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the deposit, but how will I know it’s you?”

  She eased into the shadows. “You’ll know.”

  Olivia retreated behind the surveillance deck the police used. The route she chose was dark and she was pretty damn sure her client wouldn’t attempt to follow her.

  Thankfully he didn’t.

  When she reached the parking area, she remained out of sight until Soderbaum climbed into his vehicle and drove away.

  She got into her Audi and drove back to Hollywood.

  She needed some distance…some big-time perspective.

  After three long years of evading the past, it had come back to haunt her.

  Sheara, aka Goddess of Death, had been awakened by an old enemy. One she would not allow to betray her a second time. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Whatever his reason for intruding on her new life, she would stop him. Hell, he shouldn’t even know she was alive.

  Forcing her attention on the road, she made the journey back to her house on Mount Olympus in record time, despite her evasive route. She had fully anticipated a tail. If there had been one, she’d lost him.

  She parked behind Jeffrey’s car and went inside, locking the door and resetting the alarm.

  Jeffrey was asleep when she entered the bedroom. She didn’t need a crystal ball or a hidden camera to know he had waited up until his body could no longer deny its need for sleep. Even as frustrated as he must have been when she didn’t call to let him know how things were going, he’d likely waited up far longer than was reasonable because he cared. Something else she couldn’t bear to think about just now.

  She didn’t bother with a light, just tucked her loaded weapon beneath her pillow and stripped off her clothes before climbing into bed naked. The subtle scent of Jeffrey’s aftershave felt familiar and somehow comforting, as did the contrast of the cool sheets and his warm skin.

  She lay there, the minutes ticking slowly by, wondering how this could possibly be happening. Sleep was out of the question at this point. She had to be ready for anything. Why would he do this? The idea that jealousy might play a role made her furious all over again. How the hell was she supposed to handle this? She had no contacts…nothing.

  If she located the Phantom again he would be the one she would execute. Not an innocent target used to draw her back into the line of fire.

  Gritting her teeth was the only way to hold back the litany of raging expletives hovering at the back of her throat. He had no right to do this. She’d already given up far too much because of him. The urge to jerk the necklace loose and throw it as far as she could was a palpable thing…but some idiotic, vulnerable female part of her wouldn’t allow her to break that link.

  He had given it to her.

  A soft ring of the telephone shattered the silence. She reached for the bedside extension before the second ring could disturb Jeffrey.

  “Hello.” She kept her voice low, barely a whisper.

  Silence.

  “Hello.” Still nothing. She didn’t immediately hang up. Just listened. Someone was there—she could sense the presence—but he didn’t speak. He never did.

  Then came the click signaling the end of the call.

  Was the fact that the call had come only minutes after her return from meeting with Soderbaum significant? Possibly. She hung up the receiver. But this was not her first anonymous call. It was always the same. The phone would ring. She would answer and the caller would remain silent as if the single word she had uttered was the only reason he’d called—to hear her voice. There was no pattern to the calls. They came when they came. She had no idea who the caller was, but she wondered…foolishly.

  Just as she often felt someone watching her.

  And now she knew why.

  He was back.

  She couldn’t begin to imagine his objective just yet, but he would have one. Her fingers toyed with the one token she had kept from her past as her gaze drifted to the man sleeping next to her. She could not allow her past sins to intrude on his present. He had no idea who or what she had been three years ago. She had to stop this plunge toward disaster before Jeffrey got hurt.

  She closed her eyes and summoned the image of the target Ned Soderbaum had given her a ten-thousand-dollar retainer to eliminate.

  Why on earth would anyone want Jeffrey dead?

  Chapter 3

  Unable to sleep, by 4:00 a.m. Olivia was on the Internet attempting to track down one Ned Soderbaum. It wasn’t easy since she had to do this the hard way, without any useful contacts.

  She tugged up the shoulder of her silk robe, annoyed that it kept slipping down. Or maybe just annoyed. Who would have thought that after three years she would need this kind of information? It wasn’t as if a dead woman could attempt to log into the CIA’s database without causing a stir.

  Nope. She was on her own. Even if her old user name and password worked, she wouldn’t risk revealing herself. Not if she wanted to stay alive. Apparently one too many people already knew she was alive. Why contact her now? After three years? She was too much of a realist to believe that the resurrection of her old persona was simply a coincidence, especially considering the target.

  Olivia shifted the mouse and clicked, sending Google into yet another search. While she waited for the results she glanced at her weapon lying on the desk in front of the flat-panel monitor.

  A cold sweat formed on her skin. Her heart rate jumped into a faster rhythm.

  She hadn’t taken a human life in over three years. Could she still do it if the necessity presented itself?

  A shaky breath rushed past her lips, making her doubt her ability to accomplish the feat she had once performed with scarcely a thought. That had been a different life…she’d been a different person.

  The search results spilled across the screen, drawing her attention back to her task. One or two Soderbaums. Lots of Neds. But no Ned Soderbaum of Chicago. Her gut told her the guy didn’t exist. But she had to be sure. The proof was right in front of her. No businessman with enough clout to own his own jet would be thriving without at least one hit on Google.

  She could hack into the Social Security Administration’s system as one final stab. She’d already looked at the Illinois DMV database and found nothing. What was one more infraction? She would cover her tracks pretty well, going through an anonymous user ID on Hotmail. Still, a state-level intrusion like the DMV records wouldn’t readily evoke an all-out search for the perpetrator, but a federal breach would bring on the big dogs. Homeland Security’s Net Defense Unit would follow the inevitable tracks until they located this very computer.

  It was a chance she’d have to take.

  A few more clicks of the keys and she had her answer. No Ned Soderbaum in Illinois, period.

  The man had either lied about his name or he didn’t exist. If he’d simply lied about his name, that wasn’t such a big deal, but if he was using an alias, that was a whole different matter. Not using his real name at the moment she asked would have been about fear. Using an alias carried the idea of premeditation, a strategic maneuver to mislead her. Which screamed of a setup.

  Still, if this was an Agenc
y-sanctioned operation, why hadn’t they done their homework and given the guy a history to go with the alias? Ensuring a cover was verifiable was Spy 101 stuff.

  There was only one answer. Because they wanted her to know she’d been made.

  Or…the real threat could be to Jeffrey, and whoever had sanctioned the operation had no idea that research scientist Dr. Jeffrey Scott lived with a former CIA assassin. That didn’t make sense, either, since Soderbaum, or whoever the hell he was, had used her former code name…had mentioned an old enemy. Not to mention that in order for that concept to fly, she was back to the idea of a coincidence and she was a total nonbeliever in the theory. Not when she was the hired assassin.

  She knew of only one way to get to the bottom of this.

  Olivia leaned back in her chair and let go a heavy breath. She’d have to contact Hamilton.

  The name ricocheted through her. David Hamilton had been and still was the deputy director of the CIA’s field operations. If an op was under way he would know about it. But why hadn’t he warned her if she was in danger?

  After all, the fact that she was even alive was his doing. Why fail her now?

  Too many questions, not nearly enough answers.

  It would be daylight soon. There were things she had to do. She grabbed her Beretta and strode into the bedroom. Jeffrey still slept soundly. After placing the weapon into her handbag, she sat down on his side of the bed.

  “Jeffrey.” She shook him gently, then turned on the bedside lamp. “Jeffrey, we need to talk.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure how she would get him to go along with her plan, but she had to convince him somehow. Both their lives likely depended upon his cooperation. Though at this point she couldn’t say for an absolute certainty whether this was about him or her. He was a research scientist at a top pharmaceutical corporation. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that someone had targeted him for some reason related to his work, government affiliated or not. Still, the involvement of her former identity had her leaning more toward something far less straightforward.

  The moment his eyes opened he took note of the time on the alarm clock on the bedside table not twelve inches from his head. “It’s early.” He shifted his groggy attention to Olivia. “Is something wrong? How’s your patient?”

  With a weary smile tacked into place, she lied, “He’s stable and thoroughly apologetic for causing the fuss.” Evidently Jeffrey thought she’d only just returned from the hospital. Remnants of the lie she’d just told soured in the back of her throat.

  Jeffrey scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Aren’t they always? Did you just get in?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking.” That part wasn’t entirely untrue.

  He eased up onto his elbows and eyed her a bit more closely. “Something is wrong.”

  A barely discernible lift of her shoulders gave him the hesitant impression she intended. She knew Jeffrey better on certain levels than she’d ever known any man. She discerned what made him tick, how he would respond in any given situation. The nine months they’d shared, coupled with her extensive training on how to analyze a target, ensured she could read him like the proverbial open book. Though she would definitely categorize him as passive, sensitive, definitely a beta male, he was intensely protective of her feelings.

  The quintessential nerd in school, he’d suffered at the hands of bullies during childhood, making him ultrasensitive to the needs of others. Maybe that was one of the reasons she’d been so drawn to him. He was the exact opposite of who and what she had been. Kind, patient, overly considerate even. She was counting on those very qualities right now.

  “I think I need to get away.”

  Concern stamped out the last remnants of sleepiness in his eyes. “Are you thinking of a change in our relationship?”

  He didn’t have to say “breaking up”—she read the dreaded deduction on his face. That would be his initial conclusion. This was Jeffrey’s first live-in arrangement, as well. His lack of experience in the area of relationships was, however, related as much to his dedication to his work as to his being an introvert.

  “No. It’s nothing like that. I just need to get away. I guess last night’s episode was the final straw. I’m tired. We haven’t taken a vacation all year. Do you think you could get away for the weekend?”

  Relief and no small amount of hope flooded his expression. “I don’t see why not.” He scooted up to a sitting position. “It’s Friday. There isn’t anything on my agenda that can’t wait until Monday. I’m certain they can manage without me for a day.” He smiled, traced the tip of one finger along her cheek. “A restful weekend would be good for both of us.”

  Olivia’s relief matched his, though for completely different reasons. “Great. We’ll leave right away.”

  His ready agreement set part one of her plan in motion. She told him to pack for a rustic weekend, the location to be a surprise. Jeans, casual shirts and hiking boots. He didn’t question her suggestions. Probably assumed they would escape to Zuma Ridge for hiking or Sullivan Canyon for mountain biking. She hoped he would continue to be so cooperative. The next couple of steps would likely raise his suspicions. But she couldn’t worry about that just now. One step at a time.

  Olivia packed for survival, something she hadn’t done in more than three years. She was beginning to hate that number. Suddenly everything in her new life was a reminder of the way things had ended three years ago.

  Jeans, cotton Ts and a couple of long-sleeved cotton blouses, emergency items like bottled water and first-aid materials. She went into the closet and got the last clip she had on hand for the Beretta. After clearing the right corner of the back of her closet, she tugged the carpeting loose from its tack bar. The envelope was right where she’d put it three years ago after the new carpet had been laid. Inside the envelope were a passport, driver’s license and two credit cards issued under an alias she had hoped she would never have to use.

  She dumped two pairs of shoes from a designer shopping bag, folded the bag neatly and went back into her bedroom. She stashed the cash, the shopping bag and other items in her handbag. Before packing the retainer fee she’d gotten last night, she transferred as much as she could to the various pockets of the clothing she wore and some into her handbag. After a quick search beneath the bathroom sink for a couple of disposable rain ponchos and the pepper spray she’d almost forgotten about, she was good to go.

  “I’ve loaded my bag in the Audi.”

  Looking up too quickly at the sound of his voice, Olivia cracked her head on the edge of the counter. She hoped like hell her instincts would sharpen as she attempted to keep stride with her former ways. Otherwise they might not even make it out of the city.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take the Saturn?” His lips stretched into a lopsided grin. “It fits with rustic a bit better than the Audi.”

  She rubbed at her head and manufactured an answering smile. “Don’t worry. I have a plan for that.”

  He eyed her speculatively. “There’s no way I can talk you into sharing our destination?”

  She shook her head. “I want to surprise you.”

  He moved his shoulders up and down. “Okay. This is your adventure.”

  Just keep that attitude, she mused silently.

  When her sufficiently sized overnight bag was loaded alongside Jeffrey’s, Olivia slid behind the wheel. She’d already canceled her appointments for the day and Jeffrey had called his assistant.

  Olivia kept a close eye on the rearview mirror as she drove to the airport in Burbank. It didn’t take that long, less than an hour. Her companion didn’t question her destination until she entered long-term parking.

  “Are we flying? You didn’t mention that.”

  She cut him a sidelong look that she hoped came off as seductive and secretive. “You’ll see.”

  The amusement glittering in his brown eyes signaled that she had once more alleviated his niggling
suspicions. “This is getting more interesting all the time.”

  When they entered the airport, luggage in tow, rather than going to a ticket desk, she headed for the Hertz counter. The line wasn’t that long but she dropped her bag on the floor about thirty feet from the counter.

  “Do you mind watching the bags while I get the car?”

  “Absolutely not.” He held up his hands. “And I won’t even ask why we need a different car.”

  Good. He was still happy with the game. As brilliant, albeit shy, as Jeffrey was, he was still a man, and the promise of sex combined with mystery overrode a great deal of common sense.

  “Guard those bags,” she ordered with enough suggestion to have him glancing down at her bag in wonder. She’d never met a man yet who didn’t love sexy lingerie. He didn’t need to know that the most important things the bag actually contained were the rest of the cash Soderbaum had given her and another clip for the Beretta. She definitely didn’t want to lose those. She had no idea what she might have to buy or who she might have to bribe before this was over. The shooting part she’d just as soon not think about.

  Taking a quick look around, she left Jeffrey with the bags and herded up behind the half dozen other people in the rental car line. The agent on duty didn’t waste time. He moved through the customers quickly enough to impress even Olivia.

  When it was her turn, she asked, “What kind of SUV do you have available?”

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I’m hoping that won’t be a problem.”

  Studying his computer monitor, he clicked a few keys. “Hmm.” He rubbed his chin. “I have an Explorer. Will that work?”

  “Perfect.”

  She gave him the driver’s license and credit card for Jill Smart. She signed the paperwork and he instructed her on which shuttle to take to pick up the SUV.

  A few minutes later she had the keys to the blue Explorer. Jeffrey commented on the size of the vehicle as they loaded their luggage into the cargo area, then even offered to drive. She knew her luck with his ready cooperation was about to run out.