The Secret Brokers (2 page)

Carl Bordonaro sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his protruding belly. “Glad to hear that I was of some help to you and David last summer.”

“Which is, I am sure, why you are here, Carl,” Dallas replied with a slight grin.

“I figured cleanin’ up that mess at David’s place entitled me to ask for a favor.”

Dallas leaned back in his chair, scowling. “A favor?”

Carl ran his hand over his bald
head. “I want you to do a job for me, a job you and your organization are well suited for. Now, I’m a man of considerable influence
,
and could entrust this job to any one of my associates, but none of them are as skilled as you in gatherin’ exactly the kind of information I need.”

“What kind of information are we talking about?”

“Secrets,” Carl answered. “Simon La Roy was known around the world as the man to go to when one needed secrets uncovered. As his successor, you’re the man to see. And with our past dealin’s together, I figured you were a man to be trusted.”

“Who’s the target?”

“Target? Odd chose of words.” Carl raised his dark eyebrows worriedly. “I don’t want her killed, Dallas.”

“Target is the person who we are sent to investigate. My people don’t eliminate.”

Carl smiled. “Of course.” He nodded his head as he looked down at his stubby hands. “There was a former associate who knew a great deal about my business ventures. His name was Earl Yeager. Three years ago
,
Earl was diagnosed with cancer and spent his last days in a hospital bed. He was given the best of care, and I paid to have private nurses see to his comfort. One nurse became very close to Earl—so close, in fact, that I think he may have told her a few secrets about me. If these secrets were released to certain federal agencies, it could cause problems for me and several other men throughout the country.” He looked up at Dallas. “Some of these other business men want this young woman killed, just to make sure she doesn’t talk, but I can’t do that.”

“Because you want to find out what she knows first?” Dallas inquired.

Carl shook his head and sighed. “Her father and I are…old friends. He was a liquor distributor in New Orleans. For forty years he supplied my house and businesses with liquor. Ed Pioth was good to me, and I’ve known his daughter, Gwen, since she was born. I attended her christenin’ and her first communion, so you can understand my dilemma.”

“You want me to send out a specialist to find out what she knows. See if this Earl Yeager said anything that the feds could use against you and your…friends?”

Carl stared into Dallas’s eyes. “I can’t afford for anyone else to be involved at this point.” He pointed at Dallas. “I want
you
to go and find out what the girl knows.”

“Me?” Dallas balked. “I’m right in the middle of taking things over here. Simon’s death was only leaked to the press a few weeks ago. I can’t just hop on a plane and—“

“I would consider it a personal favor,” Carl interrupted.

Dallas warily eyed the man and then shook his head. “And being a personal favor to you would mean what for me exactly?”

“That whatever you need from now on, I will do everythin’ in my power to accomplish.”

Dallas took a deep breath and mulled over the man’s words. Carl Bordonaro was a powerful friend to have, and considering the instability of the business he was trying to operate
,
a man with such connections could only prove to be an asset in the long run. Dallas leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his face in his hands.

“Tell me about the girl,” he finally said.

“Do you like animals?”

Dallas sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “Animals? What is she, a vet? I thought you said she was a nurse?”

“Yes, Gwen is a nurse, but she is also an animal lover. She lives on a farm outside of New Orleans where she keeps her rescued race horses.”

Dallas fidgeted slightly in his chair. “I live in New York City, Carl. I don’t know anything about horses.” He gave the man an impatient glance. “Tell me more.”

Carl nodded his bald
head. “All right. Gwen is thirty-four, divorced, with no children. Her husband was a physician from a very wealthy family in Houston. Needless to say, her divorce settlement left her more than well off. She bought a fifteen-acre farm in a place called Folsom, on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain. She retired from nursin’ after the divorce, but she took the private duty job as a favor to me.”

“Which would explain why you are here,” Dallas clarified. “But if you’re such an old family friend, why don’t you just talk to the girl yourself?”

“I already have. But that ain’t enough…you and I both know that. The people I’m lookin’ to appease wouldn’t take my word that the girl knows nothin’, but they will take yours. And there is another reason I want you with her.” Carl paused and turned his eyes down to the cream-colored Oriental rug beneath his feet. “Until other interested parties can be—let us say, distracted—away from the girl, I need to know she’s safe. And with you she will be,” he asserted in his deep voice.

“Then let’s pull her out of there and put her somewhere I can keep an eye on her.”

Carl’s brown eyes returned to Dallas. “Then she would look guilty and I would be caught in a finger pointin’ game with those other interested parties. No, the girl must stay put on her farm for now and not be seen as changin’ her routine in any way. Let’s just say there is someone already watchin’ her and if she were to be moved, a lot of problems would suddenly develop for me.”

“Who’s watching her?” Dallas questioned.

“Some former associates of yours at the FBI. Seems they’re also pretty interested in what the girl knows.”

“And another reason why you can’t just sweep in there and take her away,” Dallas pointed out.

“So you see my dilemma. I need someone on the inside close to the girl, makin’ sure she doesn’t talk to the feds, and also makin’ sure she stays alive until I can learn what she knows. I have assurances from the individuals who want the girl eliminated that a certain amount of time will be allotted for you to learn her secrets, but I will need you to move as quickly as possible.”

“How long do I have?”

“Two weeks,” Carl declared.

“Damn it.” Dallas jumped up from his chair. “Do you know how hard it is to set up a target and then gain their confidence? What you are asking takes months, not weeks. How can I get this woman to confide in me in two weeks time?”

Carl stood from his chair. “In my experience, there are only two methods that can get a woman to talk quickly; torture and sex. I leave the choice up to you.”

“I don’t torture people, Carl.”

He gave Dallas a mischievous grin. “I know.”

Dallas slowly nodded his head in resignation. “All right. I’ll need to put some things in order here and do a little digging on the girl. I can fly down to New Orleans in a few days.”

Carl shook his head. “You need to be in New Orleans tomorrow mornin’.”

“Tomorrow? Are you asking me or telling me, Carl?”

Carl
said nothing as he reached into his jacket pocket and handed Dallas a plain white business card. “I’ll make arrangements for one of my men to meet you at the airport. Just leave the flight details on the answerin’ service at this number.” He pointed to a phone number scribbled across the card.

“I’ll need pictures of the girl, a list of friends, contacts, a work history, and family names in order to build a cover,” Dallas said as he looked down at the card.

Carl waved off his request. “You don’t need any of that. I told her I was sendin’ you over to her place for protection. She can tell people you’re her new handyman.”

“I like creating my own cover, Carl.”

“Maybe next time,” Carl stated, and then sighed impatiently. “Gwen won’t have anythin’ to do with you unless she knows you were recommended by someone she’s comfortable with. She’s already well aware of the danger she’s in.”

“That will make it harder for me to get her to talk.”

Carl just smiled. “I’m sure you’ll come up with somethin’.”

Dallas felt an uneasy knot settle over his stomach. He was already losing control of the situation, and in his experience that only led to one outcome.

“I can’t just walk into a situation cold. I’ll need more information in order to help the girl,” he explained.

Carl reached out and patted Dallas on the shoulder. “Think of this as a new kind of challenge, my friend. You have two weeks to walk into a woman’s life and get her to tell you her most intimate secrets. If you can pull this off, then imagine the possibilities.”

Dallas shook his head. “Maybe you should consider someone else.”

Carl took a step toward the drawing room door. “There is no time to get anyone else, Dallas. You’re the only hope Gwen has. If you don’t pull this off, the girl dies.”

Dallas studied the short man’s profile, trying to gauge the depth of his feelings. “And you would let that happen?”

“I’m a business man.” He nodded at Dallas. “And so are you. People like us can’t afford to let our emotions get in the way of our work.” He started toward the door. “You’ve got two weeks to get me what I need,” Carl proclaimed over his shoulder.

“And what if the girl does know something?”

Carl stopped in his tracks but did not turn around to face Dallas. “Let’s just hope for all our sakes she doesn’t. I’ll find my own way out.”

After Carl had left the room, Dallas cursed under his breath. He was trapped in a situation that was beyond his control and he hated it. Lessons from the past had taught him enough to know that when someone else held the higher cards they usually ended up winning the game. Getting involved with a man of Carl Bordonaro’s ilk was bad enough, but disappointing him
could
turn out to be deadly. He had to find some way to get a handle on the situation and win back his edge.

Dallas walked out of the drawing room and down the hall. When he stepped inside his office, he shut the door behind him. He picked up the cell phone sitting on his dark oak desk and scrolled through his contacts until he came to the one he needed. After he punched in the number, he began strumming his fingers on his desk as he waited for an answer from the other end of the line.

“Hello?” a sleepy man’s deep voice came over the speaker.

“Get out of bed, you son of a bitch,” Dallas roared into the phone. “You’re going to do some digging for me today.”

A heavy sigh could be heard over the phone. “Christ, Dallas! Do you know what time it is?” the man howled. “Let me guess, Carl came to see you,” the deep voice added.

“Lance, you’re gonna get me killed one of these days. And a heads up would have be
en
nice before the likes of Carl Bordonaro walked through my front door.” Dallas paused and lowered his voice. “You need to get me some information on this woman Carl wants protected.”

Lance Beauvoir laughed into the phone. “Nothing to get. Gwen’s an acquaintance. I can tell you everything you need to know.”

Dallas shook his head and rubbed his hand over his chin. “Start at the beginning. Tell me about the ex-husband.”

A sudden fit of female giggling came over the speaker of the phone. “Let me get some pants on first,” Lance insisted.

Dallas heard muffled voices and then what he thought sounded like a door closing.

“All right, the girl has gone downstairs.
I can talk now,” Lance said when he came back on the line.

“Lance, do you know the kind of position you have put me in?”

There was a bit of rustling heard on the other end. “Carl asked me if I thought you could watch after the girl and I said yes. He never told me anything else. What’s this all about?”

“In my experience with your family, Lance, the less you know the better.”

“Hey, Nicci was the one who blurted out secrets, not me,” Lance testily returned.

Dallas felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of her name. He decided to ignore the reference and moved forward with the reason for his call.

“So how well do you know this Gwen Pioth?”

“Met her a few times with her old man, and her last name is Marsh, not Pioth. She kept her married name after the divorce for legal reasons. It seems she and her ex-husband share quite a few investments. Her husband was Doug Marsh, the big heart surgeon out of Houston
; the
one doing all the work with artificial blood.”

“Never heard of him,” Dallas admitted.

“I suggest you get acquainted with him fast. A real prick from all that I’ve heard, but worships the ground Gwen walks on.”

“So why the divorce?” Dallas questioned.

“Gwen insisted on it. She wanted a quiet life on a farm surrounded by her animals. She’s a real animal nut. Doug wanted the fast-paced city life, surrounded by wealthy friends and backers for his research. When he got offered a fancy job in Houston, Gwen stayed in New Orleans.”

“Carl said she rescues horses?”

“Rescues anything with four legs and fur, if you ask me. She has a couple of racehorses she has saved from a few of the local tracks. Every penny she has she sinks into her farm
—so
I hope you love animals.”