Dirty Little Lies (31 page)

“If you’re looking for this,” Yizenia said, pulling Brynn’s gun from her jacket pocket. “I had dibs.”

Marisela smirked and continued to drive. “I’m steering this smashed-up rust-bucket. You shoot me and you die, too. I’m looking for the cell phone.”

Yizenia coughed, the sound a painful croak. “I tossed it back at Titan.”

Marisela reached for the radio.

“Jammed that with a screwdriver before I left the garage. And the GPS locator, in case you’re wondering.”

“Very efficient,” Marisela griped. “Anything you didn’t think of?”

“I didn’t want Brynn talking me out of doing what needs to be done.”

“And what needs to be done?”

“A man needs to be taught a lesson.”

“And would that man be Leo Devlin?” Marisela asked.

Yizenia’s color rose again. “Excellent detective work, Ms. Morales.”

“
Gracias
. You see, that’s what I do best. Took me a while to figure it out, but it’s not the fighting or the killing that makes me useful in Titan. I’m a protector, not a killer.”

Yizenia twisted again in her seat, raking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “You’ve proved that.”

“So let me protect you and return you to Titan.”

Yizenia shook her head, turning so she could point the gun directly at Marisela. Though Marisela didn’t believe Yizenia would shoot her, she simply couldn’t be sure. With her hands on the wheel, she couldn’t reach her own weapon, and a close-range firefight would only end up with both of them dead.

“No, you’re going to drive me to see our friend Mr. Devlin. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken on a personal vendetta. Feels good.”

“It won’t feel so good when you’re arrested for first-degree murder. If you just give us what information you have, help the police build a case against Leo Devlin for murder and conspiracy to commit murder, I’m sure Brynn and Ian have lawyers that can work it so you get some kind of deal. Help us put him…”

Yizenia raised her brow over bored eyes, forcing Marisela to drop her attempts at rational argument.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” Marisela said, punching the gas. Maybe she could stop Yizenia once they reached their destination. Maybe she could stop Yizenia after gathering enough evidence to turn Devlin over to the cops for conspiracy. Or maybe she’d stay out of a battle that wasn’t hers to fight.

* * *

Marisela killed the engine, allowing the Jaguar to roll to a silent stop beside a stone fence. She turned to Yizenia, who was effectively blocked inside the car. Marisela moved to reach for the LadySmith, but Yizenia jabbed the barrel of the semiautomatic pistol into her arm, putting a halt to her plan.

“We have matching tattoos, but if you want to add matching bullet wounds, I suppose you could continue with this childish ruse.”

Marisela rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to kill him.”

“You seemed all for it before,” Yizenia said.

“I was humoring you.”

“Then continue. Get out.”

Marisela complied. As she turned, Yizenia took the LadySmith out of Marisela’s waistband. With a curse, she watched, impressed, as Yizenia pressed the lever that released the car’s convertible top. It folded out of the way, allowing her the space she needed to exit the car, her good arm supporting the weight of her weapon. She’d left Marisela’s on the seat.

“Go back to Brynn and tell her that while I appreciate the use of her car, I’m sorry I couldn’t return it in pristine condition.”

“Guess you owe her a whole case of brandy,” Marisela said, spying the crunched hood and fender.

“It’s cognac,” Yizenia teased, “but you’re close enough.”

Marisela shifted, missing the weight of the LadySmith in her waistband. But retrieving her gun would not stop the assassin. Marisela had no reason to shoot Yizenia and no reason to stop her from shooting the man who had orchestrated the deaths of Evan Cole and Raymond Hightower simply to feed his political ambitions against Craig Bennett. Tracy Manning’s life had been turned upside down. She’d been used, manipulated, and raped of her memories all for a greedy pharmaceutical capitalist who already had more money than God. They’d returned to the scene of the original crime—the same Brookline mansion where the hit against Craig Bennett had gone down. With no way to communicate with Frankie or Brynn or Ian or Max, Marisela had to make her decision on her own.

Let Yizenia kill the man or try to stop her?

“How are you going to get in?” Marisela asked.

Yizenia’s smile belied the pain Marisela knew she was feeling from her injury.

“Mr. Devlin is under the misguided impression that he covered all his bases with me. He believes I don’t know his schedule, his security-codes, the precise timing of the guards that patrol his vast estate.”

“Clearly, the guy’s wrong,” Marisela commented.

“Dead wrong. Now, run along,” Yizenia ordered kindly, gesturing with her gun. “You claim to be a protector, not a killer. I can respect that,
mi hermana
. We do have much in common, but so much more that is different. I almost wish to apologize for seeking you out, testing if you were the right woman to take my place, but I cannot in good conscience say that with truth. I’m glad we met.”

A tightening in Marisela’s chest reached up and grabbed her in the back of her throat. “Weird, but I am, too.”

Silence lingered for a few seconds, with Yizenia wavering on her feet. “Look at me closely, Marisela. I’m what you might become if you allow hatred and vengeance to poison your soul.”

Marisela shook her head. “No, I think you’re what I’d become if someone murdered my family.”

Yizenia swallowed thickly, the action visible as she closed the distance between them. “In any case, you have no need to be here any longer.” She held out her injured arm. “Take this,” she instructed, indicating the thick, beaded leather band encircling her wrist, hiding her tattoo from the world.

“Your bracelet?”

“Those are black pearls sewn into the leather,” she said, her voice inflected with pride. “Very valuable.”

Marisela did as Yizenia asked, but wasn’t sure why. “That’s an expensive gift to give to someone who’s held a gun on you multiple times in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Consider it payment for releasing me.”

Her eyes suddenly dry and burning, Marisela wrapped the band around her wrist and snapped it into place. Again, Yizenia waved the gun at the woods behind them and waited. Deciding she had no further reason to stay, Marisela walked away. She’d get to the nearest house, borrow a phone and make a call. If Brynn and Ian wanted to save Leo Devlin’s life, then they could alert the police, though she doubted either of the Blake twins wanted to expose the woman who had avenged their mother, no matter what she did to the man who’d betrayed her.

Once Marisela had walked ten feet, she heard a grunt. She spun around. Yizenia was gone. Over the wall, no doubt. Marisela stopped. Listened. Except for the breeze rustling through the tree branches, she heard nothing.

You claim to be a protector, not a killer
.

But Marisela couldn’t do much protecting from the other side of the fence, though, could she? And besides, she thought, glancing at the expensive bracelet, she had been paid a retainer.

Cursing to herself, Marisela slid into the Jaguar’s driver’s seat. Took her ten damned minutes, but she was able to reactivate the GPS locator on the car. Figuring she’d wasted enough time ensuring that sooner or later, she’d get backup, she pulled her LadySmith and jumped onto the hood of the car so she could make it over the wall.

If Yizenia could figure out how to break in to this fortress, so could she. And though she couldn’t justify helping the assassin achieve her objective, the least she could do was watch her back.

Nineteen

JUDGING BY THE
trail Marisela had followed across the lawn and into the same stunning mansion where the charity masquerade had been held, Yizenia might know her way around this place, but she must not have realized how badly she’d been hurt. Marisela spotted a smear of blood on a wall near the side entrance, and after wiping it clean, discovered the secret panel nearby that led her into the hidden passageways that wound through the house.

Marisela moved slowly, carefully, through the interior corridors, ignoring the cobwebs and dust skittering across her face and clogging her nose. She stopped after winding through what felt like miles of passageway, listening for sounds that were less like rodents and more like a killer on the prowl. She didn’t dare call out, even in a whisper. Yizenia had been single-minded in her decision to take Devlin out on her own terms—so much so that Marisela feared the woman was making a huge mistake.

If she’d wanted to send Leo Devlin to the great drugstore in the sky, she should have hunted him as she’d hunted the others. From a distance. Instead, she’d barreled into the man’s home, determined to remove him face-to-face. While Marisela could appreciate the purity of Yizenia’s intentions, her plan of attack was reckless.

After stumbling her way up a staircase, Marisela finally heard voices on the other side of the wall. She hesitated. She couldn’t distract Yizenia without putting her life at risk.

“You received your payment,” a male, presumably Leo Devlin, said curtly. “Your services are no longer needed.”

“I’ve received payment,
sí
,” Yizenia responded. “In my bank account and on my body. Did you really think you could simply kill me and remove the threat to your safe, secure existence?”

Devlin laughed, and under the cover of the deep, throaty sound, Marisela activated the mechanism that released the lock on the panel. She held on to the corner, allowing the secret entrance to only slip open a quarter inch. Through the sliver in the door, she saw the white-haired Leo Devlin sitting behind his desk, Yizenia directly across from him with her gun aimed at the center of his forehead.

“That was the plan,” he replied.

“Your plans are incredibly elaborate,
verdad
? Had I not been the one manipulated by your lies, I might have admired the cleverness of it all.”

Devlin’s face reflected no fear. Abject confidence lit the man’s pale eyes, despite the sweat trickling down the side of his neck. Marisela moved so she could see the door. She stretched down the passageway to listen into the hallway on the other side. She heard no one riding to his rescue, despite his smug expression.

“I wasn’t always a rich man, Ms. Santiago. I had to play dirty to get where I am. Craig Bennett stood in the way of my continuing the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed,” Devlin explained. “If his bill to allow foreign medications in the American marketplace becomes law, I’ll be ruined. I considered reviving the scandal alone to tarnish his reputation, but the press wasn’t interested. Old news. I needed something more…permanent…to shut him up.”

“So you hired me,” Yizenia said. “My reputation alone would point investigators back to the old scandal and away from his political enemies. Away from you.”

“Ah, yes. Brilliant, wasn’t it? When I heard about this avenging angel of
España
, I concocted my story about being a devoted admirer of Rebecca Manning and that I’d simmered for years with the need for justice. With my connections at Windchaser Farm, I was able to get the information I needed to convince you to help me from Tracy Manning. The rest was no more than greasing the right palms. The decision to have you eliminated only came about when you’d been in the custody of those meddlers from Titan for more time than I thought wise. You do, after all, possess the means to have me arrested. If it is any consolation, I regretted ordering your elimination.”

“You must, since whoever you hired missed.”

“Clearly, not all assassins perform on the same level, though at least with Bennett, you left him vulnerable. I’ve already hired someone to finish the job you botched. But I am sorry for the turn our relationship has taken. I have a deep appreciation for those courageous enough to exact revenge.”

“I doubt you’ll feel the same way when my bullet is in your brain.”

Devlin’s eyes flashed, but before Marisela could warn Yizenia, a security guard burst through the door behind her. Yizenia turned and fired. The guard dropped. Knees, then torso, then face. Yizenia stood for a moment, stunned.

Marisela pushed out of the secret passage. For a split second, her gaze met Yizenia’s. Marisela saw despair cross through Yizenia’s dark irises before another shot fired.

Yizenia jerked. Blood stained her chest. Marisela stepped forward just as the assassin fell into her arms. She pulled her close and, over her shoulder, saw the gaping bullet hole in Yizenia’s back.

“
Dios mio
,” Marisela said, her heart pounding as she watched the life slip out of Yizenia’s eyes.

“
Sí, sí
,” she agreed. And then, she died.

Marisela looked up and saw Leo Devlin standing, pistol aimed, pale blue eyes alight with satisfaction. She scooted back, laying Yizenia gently on the floor. She retrieved Yizenia’s weapon and held it tight in her left hand.

Devlin dropped his gun on the desk and smiled. “It was self-defense, Ms. Morales. You saw it for yourself. I’m sure as I’m a former client, you’d be delighted to testify on my behalf.”

“You can fuck that shit, Devlin. I know what you did to Craig Bennett.”

“Her word against mine, don’t you see? I’m a wealthy man with access to the best lawyers in the world. The situation will be twisted to my advantage and the only person who could have effectively contradicted me is now dead. Except you, of course, but you’ll have to tell the truth. That she came here to kill me. That I shot her only after she breached my security and murdered my guard.”

There was a laugh in his voice that slithered up Marisela’s spine like a slimy scaled reptile. “You’re not using me for your defense,” Marisela insisted.

She raised the gun, which only caused him to shrug casually. “I’ll do as I like, just as I always have. You’re a professional, Ms. Morales. Put down your weapon and admit defeat. I doubt if your bosses at Titan would approve of you shooting an unarmed man.”