Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) (25 page)

“I guess it’s the sentiment that counts.”

Was she busting his balls right now? She sure didn’t act like any woman he’d ever encountered before. He was clearly out of his depth with her, but he was trying. Boy, was he trying.

“Sorry,” he said. “Maybe I’m not as smooth as the guys you’re used to dealing with.”

“You mean like Coop and Sticks?”

He laughed. “If I’d been feeling better this morning, I would’ve brained those two bastards. But I see you survived. How did your day go?”

“About as well as I expected. We drove around the island, got some pickup shots, and tried to snag an interview with Pappy Leo.”

“Who?”

“Leonard Latham. The man who owns the island. That’s what the locals call him.”

“Never heard of him. Did you have any luck?”

She shook her head. “He’s pretty reclusive. Spends most of his day cooped up on his estate in the middle of the island.”

“I know the feeling. Only I spent my day upstairs.”

“Why?” she said, looking surprised. “The island is so beautiful. Why not get outside and enjoy yourself.”

Favreau shrugged. “I’ve never been much for sunburn.”

“Well, if I’d known you’d spend your day locked up in your room, I would’ve insisted you come along with us.”

“Yeah, that would’ve gone over big. Besides, I was wiped and spent a lot of it sleeping. I don’t usually get blackout drunk.”

“Blackout?” she said. “Are you telling me you don’t remember last night?”

Favreau wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt embarrassed. “I almost hate to admit this, but yeah, I can’t remember a thing. And looking at you right now, I sure as hell wish I did.”

“Maybe I should be insulted.”

“No, I just had too much to drink. I’ve never been great at holding my liquor.”

She looked around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then leaned forward slightly. “If it’s any consolation, it didn’t affect your performance.
I
remember every detail.”

The thought forced Favreau to readjust his napkin. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if you did.”

Damn
, he thought, what he wouldn’t give for a video replay.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “If I try to take even a single drink tonight, stop me.”

“So we aren’t ordering champagne?”

“If you want a glass, go right ahead. But I plan on staying as sober as a monk.”

“Don’t they take vows of chastity, too?”

He grinned. “That’s a bit drastic. But I don’t want to take any chances. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I black out all the time. I’m usually pretty good at remembering things.”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

“Really good, actually. Especially when it comes to numbers. I
never
forget numbers.” He grinned. “Comes in handy at the—
 

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He fumbled for it, pulled it out, the ID on the screen reading
UNKNOWN CALLER
.

“Excuse me,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ve gotta take this.”

“The call you’ve been expecting?”

“Looks like it.”

And about damn time,
he thought.
 

His heart was beating faster as he jabbed the answer button and headed into the lobby. “This is Favreau.”

“Frederic, I have news for you.”

It was the guy he’d met at the strip club.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Beck has accepted your counter proposal.”

He stopped in his tracks. “You’re sure?”

“Would you like him to think about it a while longer?”

“No, no,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve been waiting so long to hear from you, I thought he may’ve changed his mind.” He paused. “So, when do we do this?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Favreau’s voice went up half an octave. “Tomorrow night? If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get this thing done as soon as—”

“Do you want the deal or not?”

“Well, yeah, of course I do.”

“Then you’ll continue to cooperate and do whatever Valac asks of you. There’s an envelope waiting for you at the front desk. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

“Okay,” he said. “But why all the cloak and dagger? Why can’t we…”

He stopped when he realized the line was dead.

“Did you blokes get all that?”
 

Alex tried not to wince as Warlock’s voice exploded in her ear. “We got it,” she said. “But lower your volume a bit.”

“Sorry. Is this better?”

“I think I’d prefer complete silence, but I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that.”

Cooper said, “Don’t start, you two, this is neither the time nor place. Warlock, are you looking at the CCTV feed for the front desk?”

“I am indeed.”

“He’s approaching it now. Can you get in close?”

“I can, but the resolution on the hotel’s cameras is bloody shite. I doubt I’ll be able to read what’s in the envelope.”

“I don’t think you need to,” Alex said. “I’m guessing it’s an invitation.”

“To what?” Cooper asked.

“There’s a party tomorrow night at Leonard Latham’s estate. Very exclusive. And since Valac is a guest at the house, I figure that’s where the exchange will take place.”

“And you know this how?”

“The locals on the island are more tuned into what goes on around here than we’ll ever be, and some of them are very chatty.”
 

She was lying, of course, and hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

Cooper said, “Then why am I only hearing about it now?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant until Favreau got that phone call.”

“Alex, if you’re holding anything back on us—”

Warlock cut him off. “Don’t start, you two, this is neither the time nor place.”

Deuce laughed. “Nice one, dude.”

“Thanks, mate. The good news is, if this party is tomorrow night, that gives us another full day to find those ever elusive codes.”

“We won’t find them,” Alex said.

“I love your optimism, but I’d like to keep trying, if you don’t mind.”

“Think about it. What’s the one way Favreau can guarantee that those codes can’t be cloned or stolen and maximizes his safety at the same time?”

“I await your answer with bated breath.”

“You just heard what he told me about his memory. He doesn’t need an SD card because the codes are in his brain.”

They all fell silent. Then Cooper said, “You know, I think Alex may be right.”

“Works for me,” Deuce said.

Warlock scoffed. “You really think he
memorized
them?”

“What better way to guarantee his safety?” Alex said. “If Valac kills him, the codes are gone.”

“Then why go to all the trouble to set up jammers? Why put that note in his safe?”

“Because if his privacy is breached, he knows he can’t trust Valac and he either bails or insists on a higher price.”

“So where does this leave us?” Deuce asked. “We’ve got no way to switch the codes before he delivers them.”

“That only makes our job easier.”

“How do you figure?”

“It leaves us with one less headache to worry about,” she said. “Once our main target is in play, we can neutralize Favreau and the codes along with him, then make the grab.”

“Neutralize?”

“Another one of those pills should do the trick. And that party tomorrow night gives us a way to get to Valac without resorting to an all-out tactical assault. All I have to do is convince Favreau to take me along with him.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Cooper asked.

“By embracing my femininity,” she said. “With some help, of course. How sure are you about your secret weapon?”

“I asked again and was told it wasn’t a problem.”

“Then I don’t see how we have a choice.”

When Favreau came back to the table, there was a bit of swagger to his gait.

Alex said, “You look like the cat who swallowed the canary. That must’ve been good news.”

Favreau grinned and sank into his chair. “Ten-million-dollars good, baby.”

“Divorce settlement?”

He laughed. “Like I told you, I’m here on business.” He waggled his ring finger. “And for the record, I’m unattached.”

She reached across the table and took his hands. They felt like pastry dough. “You never did tell me what business that is.”

“I guess you could call me a commodities trader.”

“Nice,” she said.

“It is when you make a deal like this one. And all of a sudden I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

“Ten million dollars is a very good reason to.”

“You bet your cute little ass it is. How hungry are you?”

She shrugged. “I could eat, but it’s not an emergency.”

“What do you say we blow off dinner, go up to my suite, and relax for a while? We can order room service later.”

Alex released him, grabbed her purse, and tucked it under her arm. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. There’s just one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“No drinks for you.”

He laughed again and got to his feet. “Drinking isn’t what I had in mind.”

F
AVREAU
WAS
ON
her the moment he got her through the doorway.

Expecting this, Alex mentally gritted her teeth and let the moment flow as he pressed her against the foyer wall and went for broke, his mouth—and every foul smell it harbored—leading the way.

She gave him about thirty grueling seconds before slipping out of his grasp. “Slow down, Casanova. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
 

He looked stunned. “I thought that’s what we came up here for.”

She headed into the living room, kicking off her heels as she went. “A girl likes a little romance. I know you’re not drinking, but I wouldn’t mind one. I hope you have vodka.”

Favreau tried to pull himself together. He obviously hadn’t been expecting this turn of events. “The minibar’s in the corner.”

“You’re going to make me pour?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He crossed to the cabinet and found a bottle and glass.

As he fixed her drink, Alex strolled around the room, touching the furniture.
 

Anything was better than touching him.
 

“They really don’t spare any expense here, do they?”

“You want to attract the rich,” he said, “you gotta spend money to do it.” He gestured. “Or wear a dress like that.”

“And here I thought you’d rather I wasn’t wearing it.”

“Jesus, baby, you are killing me. Come over here.”

She playfully wagged an index finger. “Not so fast, mister. You have to seduce me first.”

“How’s ten million bucks for a start?”

“You think that’s all I care about?”

“I don’t think it hurts.”
 

He crossed to her, handed her the drink, and reached out for her, but she again slipped away.
 

“You’re really gonna drag this out, aren’t you?”

“The longer you wait, the more you’ll appreciate the reward,” she said.

“Baby, I already appreciate everything about you. You’re just about driving me nuts. And come on, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

That’s what you think
, Alex wanted to say, but sipped her drink and circled behind the sofa.
 

She patted it. “Why don’t you sit down and let me give you a massage.”

“You’re talking shoulders, right?”

“Don’t be crude, Frederic. Women don’t like crude.”

“You’re lecturing me now?” He shook his head. “You’re just about the ballsiest girl I’ve ever come across, and I’ll be damned if I don’t love it. I’m used to women dropping to their knees at the thought of making a few hundred bucks for the night.”

“You’re not winning any points. Take a seat before I change my mind.”

He grinned. “We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

As he sat down, she set her drink on the end table, then leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders. She rubbed them for a moment, then paused.

“Why are you stopping? That felt good.”

“I can’t get any traction,” she said. “Take off your jacket.”

He leaned forward a bit, and as he slipped off his sport coat, she spotted exactly what she’d expected to see tucked in an inner pocket—an invitation to Leonard Latham’s party. She took the jacket from him and feigned discovery.