Dead No More (9 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Monday, September 22, 5:00 p.m.

L
ILY
FLICKED
THE
worn yellow card between her fingers. She reached for the phone but then hesitated. Leaning against the windows flanking her western wall, she tapped the card against her thigh and stared into the darkness below. How someone who openly flaunted his relationship with known enemies of state stood within one breath of owning and running the largest weapons manufacturer in the northern hemisphere astounded and infuriated Lily.

She looked at the tattered card and sighed. Calling Director Kennedy was ridiculous. What would she say?

Hello, sir. I know I basically told you to go to hell when I walked out and have ignored all your attempts to contact me, but I agreed to undertake a mission with another one of your operatives, and my mark had photos taken with a dozen or more known enemies of state. I don’t have anything more than a promise of dinner, but I thought you should know.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she murmured, mortified just thinking about it. Calling Director Kennedy was
not
an option.

The house intercom chirped. Lily tucked the card into her back pocket, walked over to the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“Derek is coming up to see you.”

Lily’s eyes flipped to the monitor. Derek’s face flashed across the screen as he stepped out of the elevator. Damn it. She was a hot mess. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her running gear. “Next time, a little heads-up would be appreciated, George.”

“I called, didn’t I?” He chuckled and hung up.

She yanked the door open before Derek could knock. The corner of his lip twitched into a slight smile.
How he managed to make a simple T-shirt and black leather jacket look sexy was beyond her. She didn’t want to feel like the floor was tumbling out from her whenever he turned his blue eyes on her, but she couldn’t prevent her body from responding to Derek. It had a mind of its own.

And it wanted him.

“What are you doing here?”

She shut the door and headed into the kitchen, putting some much needed space between them. At some point during their escapade at Rowland’s party, Derek had effectively chipped away at her internal resolve and the pendulum had swung wildly.

In his favor.

“I wanted to catch you before you headed off to dinner with Rowland.” He leaned against the counter, his gaze sweeping her body.

Flushing, she wrapped her arms around her waist.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Although judging by the looks of it, that’s not happening?”

“He postponed—‘business before pleasure.’” She shrugged, ignoring the flash of heat she felt as she recalled Rowland running his fingers down her face, and opened the fridge, reached in and pulled out a bowl of grapes. “Said an unexpected appointment came up. End of story.”

Lily grabbed a grape and popped it into her mouth. She wasn’t hungry, but she snatched another grape, anyway, anything to keep her focus off the man standing in her kitchen, openly evaluating her...and the rush of terror and excitement Derek evoked.

“When’s your next contact?”

“Whenever he summons me.” She wrinkled her nose. “Which, for the record, I hate.”

“So no dinner tonight, and no idea when he’ll call next?”

Pursing her lips, she nodded. “Correct.”

“Great.” Derek pushed off from the counter and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s have dinner.”

Lily nearly choked on the half-chewed grape in her mouth. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Dinner sounded lovely and dangerous, all at the same time. This was getting too comfortable. She was growing more and more accustomed to having Derek here, in her home, with her. Missed him when he wasn’t around.

Ever since that damn party, it was as if her body came alive whenever he was near. And that was bad news. If history had taught her anything, it was that nothing good could come out of whatever was starting to spark between her and Derek.

He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa. Lily stared as the muscles in his back strained against his shirt, and her hands grew clammy, aching to reach out and touch.
Oh, shit...

“I don’t think—”

He cut her off. “More chatter came through.”

Images of his muscles beneath her fingers vanished and she perked up. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

“I figured that would get your attention.” He shook his head and laughed. “Did it work?”

He tossed a grape into his mouth and smirked.

Oh, yeah, he was trouble, all right. But more chatter meant they could be one step closer to wrapping this case. And shutting down whatever
this
was between them. Lily swallowed the disappointment creeping up her throat. “Start talking, and I’ll start cooking.”

Derek dragged out a stool, straddled it and settled in. He pulled the bowl of grapes closer and popped a few into his mouth. “Intel is still trying to decipher the bullshit from the rest of it. But from what they’ve gathered, this just ramped up our timetable.”

Her heart sank. A shorter timetable meant less time with Derek.
No. This is for the better.
“What did they gather?”

“Portable weapon of mass destruction.”

She frowned. “Nothing new with that.”

“True. But see that?” He pointed to her Coach handbag. She nodded, opened the fridge and pulled out a steak. Derek grabbed another grape. “It could fit in that. And it’s undetectable.”

“What?” Lily peeked around the door and shook her head. “Not possible. There has to be some sort of fingerprint. Something.”

“That’s what we thought, too. Until ARME created a WMD that is undetectable.”

“ARME created this weapon?” She set salsa and chips in front of Derek, then grabbed a knife from the knife block.

“Yep.” He scooped the salsa high on a chip and tossed the combination into his mouth.

“If we already know that ARME has this technology, why are we even discussing it?” Lily stopped cutting the steak into strips and looked at him. “Lock it down.”

“We can’t just lock it down. Chatter indicates that the technology got smuggled out—”

“Smuggled out? What the he—”

He held up his hand.

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Like I was saying, the tech was smuggled out—we suspect it’s an inside job—and a bidding war is currently underway. The shitty thing?” Derek waved a chip in the air. “We don’t know who the players are. And we need that intel. So our hands are tied. We watch and wait.”

“So let me get this straight.” Lily fought to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it had a mind of its own and oozed out with every word. “There’s chatter about a bidding war happening for a portable WMD, and we’re not doing anything about it.”

“Yep.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. This could be the catch of a century—nail the buyer, the seller and the leak. Higher-ups want to bring in a big kill on their watch. So our directive is to let it play out long enough to guarantee a big win before we tighten the noose.”

Lily bristled. Nothing about that scenario was a win. It was the same shit as Jackson: identical storyline, different players. What had happened to the country she so loved and believed in? When would this type of political bullshit stop? She bit her tongue. Tonight was not the time to jump on her soapbox.

She opened the fridge. “Guinness?”

He nodded and she handed him a bottle and an opener. “This why you want me to get in with Rowland?”

Derek popped the top and took a deep swig before answering. “We think it’s the tip of the iceberg. From what we can ascertain, Rowland is gunning for John’s position. With him out of the way, Rowland will be able to do business with whomever the hell he wants, whenever he wants. Unchecked.”

Steam rose from the frying pan. The steak cracked and sizzled. “What about the wife? Wouldn’t the company go to her?”

He laughed, a deep belly laugh. “She’s nothing more than a trophy wife.”

“Trophy wife?” Lily threw him a look. “What is this, Sexism 101?”

His lips twitched into that grin again. “Have you seen her?”

“No, but still...” Lily shot him another look.

He shrugged. “She isn’t in the picture. Even if she were, Rowland would eat her alive.”

Lily set the fajita fixings in front of them, pulled the stool around and sat facing Derek. “Bon appétit.”

“This looks incredible.” Derek reached for a tortilla, piled it high with fajita fixings. “We need to figure out his next move. Scratch that.
You
—” he gestured at Lily with the serving fork “—need to figure out his next move.”

“Oh, I do?”

“Yes. You.” He tipped the utensil toward his chest. “Because I’ve got nothing.”

Lily laughed and opened her mouth to respond when the shrill ring of a cell phone interrupted them. Jumping up, she grabbed it.

“Addison.” Rowland’s velvety voice echoed in her ear.

She spun around, snapped her fingers, pointed to the phone and mouthed, “Rowland.”

Derek slowly put down his fajita, all clowning around vanished.

“Rowland, how are you?”

“Ask him to meet,” Derek mouthed from across the counter. “Ask him to meet.”

Lily frowned, waved him off and turned away from him. What did Derek think she was? An amateur? She had this. He moved around the counter and stood in front of her. Lily pressed an open palm into Derek’s chest and pushed. He held up his hands in surrender and took a step back.

“My apologies for having to cancel today, but it was unavoidable,” Rowland said, his voice like butter, delectable but dangerous. “I’d like to take you to an early dinner tomorrow.”

“There’s no need to apologize, and dinner tomorrow sounds lovely.”

Derek pumped his fist in the air and grinned. Lily bit back a small laugh, turned her back on him. The man was insufferable.

“I’m in closed-door meetings tomorrow from six to three. Would meeting at ARME at four o’clock be too much of an inconvenience? If it is, I’ll send a car.”

A driver showing up at her home was the last thing Lily needed.

“That’s not an inconvenience at all. I can meet you at ARME.” She glanced over her shoulder and threw Derek a sassy look. “I look forward to it.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, sending Lily’s heart into a wild stampede.

“Four o’clock it is.”

She hung up and grinned at Derek. He grabbed her, twirled them in a circle. “Atta girl!”

Lily instinctively threw her arms around his neck and laughed. Then Derek set her down and pulled back, worry etched in his face. “That wasn’t your personal cell phone, was it?”

She slipped out of his arms, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy. It’s a burner.”

Derek sent her a wide grin and her knees buckled. No matter how hard she pushed against the rogue emotions Derek evoked, they surged through her veins whenever he was close, burning her from the inside out.

Every. Single. Freakin’. Time.

“Figured as much.” He tipped her chin up with his fingers and grinned down at her. “I just like pushing your buttons.”

She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. “Oh, you do, do you?”

“I do.” Derek lowered his lips to hers, pressed lightly.

Lily froze, but only for a split second. His heart hammered against her chest, matching her heart’s own wild thumping. She leaned into him, his warmth seeping into her skin. Every inch of her wanted him. Now.

Her body melted into his, and the internal barrier she’d scrambled to build crumbled. Unthinkingly, Lily threw her hands around Derek’s neck and pulled him closer. His hands slid down her waist, sending fire into her veins, until they stopped at her hips and hoisted her up. A tiny cry of surprise escaped her mouth as her legs wrapped around his waist. He leaned in, set her on the counter and deepened the kiss. A small, contented sigh escaped her lips.

Demanding yet soft. Salty yet sweet. Gentle yet intoxicating.

And inviting...so very inviting.

Then warning bells exploded inside her mind. Panic gripped her. Lily felt suspended in the air all over again, falling, grasping at nothing. Because there was nothing. That’s where her heart had landed her the last time she’d let a man in—in a Dumpster, barely alive. Her back stiffened.
What the hell am I doing?

She jerked back and stared up at Derek. Wiping the back of her hand across her lips, she shook her head in dismay. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He raised his hands and backed up. An emptiness filled the spot his warm body had just occupied. Disappointment crashed into her.

“It’s just, we’re on this case together. And I don’t think this—” she pointed between the two of them “—is a good idea.”

Why was she justifying her actions? Better yet, why was she babbling on like an idiot?

A small, playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Now or ever?”

Hope filled her mind as it transported her back to the party, to being tucked close to his side, to feeling protected. And then defeating fear gripped her and squeezed. She swallowed down the ache in her throat.

“I think it’s best if you leave now.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tuesday, September 23, 5:30 a.m.

L
ILY
CROUCHED
IN
THE
bushes outside Rowland’s estate, waiting. Derek would kill her if he knew her plan—which was exactly why she
hadn’t
told him. But they needed more intel, and if that meant breaking into Rowland’s estate in broad daylight, then that’s exactly what she was going to do.

The elaborate iron gates, shielding its inhabitants from intruders, receded into themselves. A black Bentley pulled out, turned right and quickly picked up speed. Drumming her fingers along her thigh, Lily glanced between the gates and the retreating car, waiting, anxious to get moving.
Come on. Come on.
The second the bold car took another right and pulled away from sight, she got up, sprinted toward the gate and dove, rolling under the gates as they shut tight.

She pushed her spine up against the stone wall, gun up, and quickly scanned the perimeter, searching for guards. Silence greeted her. Once clear, and keeping her head low, she twisted out of her backpack, unzipped it and checked her equipment, ensuring it was intact.

Eyes up. Ears open. Shallow breaths in and out.

She crept along the outskirts of the border of the stone wall, making her way toward the back entrance. Pulling out the alarm decoder, she gingerly pressed it to the side of the mansion’s security system panel. Everything went into hyperdrive as she waited, anticipating the soft ping of the decipherer telling her she’d gained access.

Twenty seconds later, the gentle chime sounded and she reached for the doorknob.

She crept through the quiet house, then froze as soft Spanish music wafted down the long hallway. Lily stepped into the first open door she saw and pulled it partially closed, watching through the crack as a plump Spanish woman with graying hair pinned up in a tight bun walked by, mop in hand.

Lily looked over her shoulder and did a double take. Well, wasn’t that providence—Rowland’s home office. “Gotcha now,” she whispered into the quiet room and went to work.

Nothing he said and did in this room would be a secret any longer.

* * *

L
ILY
TWIRLED
IN
her desk chair, quite pleased with herself. It had taken her less than twenty minutes to get in and out of Rowland’s home office, which included installing two separate camera feeds.

She took a sip of her latte and glanced at her computer. At least something had gone right in the past twenty-four hours. Her face flushed as another wave of desire surged through her. Derek. She’d almost thrown caution to the wind when he’d kissed her.

Almost
.

Shaking her head, Lily tried to focus. Good grief. She needed to be drilling down into Helen’s system, not imagining Derek’s lips.

With the malware chip she’d installed on Helen’s computer, she could piggyback into ARME’s server practically undetected and search for hidden files. She clapped her hands together once and twirled in her chair.

Hunting time.

Her fingers raced across the keys and the screen flickered to life. Unbelievable. Did they think ARME was invincible? Or was this weakened firewall intentional? She made a mental note to ask Derek to look into that, typed in a simple command and overrode the system. Pressed Enter. Lily let the computer scrub through the many layers as she eyed the files racing past.

Nothing.

She changed the parameters of her search and hit Enter again.

Still nothing.

“Come on, baby. Work with me.”

She stretched her neck to the side and refocused the search, then watched as the computer scanned.
There
. Lily stopped and leaned in. Nestled amongst mundane files was one labeled in Czech.

“Got you now.”

She highlighted it and hit Copy.

There was no telling what was in that file. But it was the only one that arrested her attention, pulled at her gut. She had to trust her intuition. Lily strummed her fingers against her desk as the download percentage inched toward eighty.

“Come on. Come on.”

Fear prickled at her skin. The longer she stayed logged into Helen’s computer remotely, the higher the risk that Lily would trip a firewall. The percentage stalled at ninety.

The muscles in her shoulders tensed. She held her breath.
Please. Come to Momma.

One hundred percent.

She dragged the copied file to her remote hard drive, ejected it and cleared out of Helen’s computer, sagging back in her chair as the tension in her body released.

Glancing at the clock, she groaned. It was already eleven. That left her only five hours to scrub the file and get to ARME for dinner with Rowland.

Setting her alarm, Lily grabbed her backup laptop and plugged in the hard drive. She crossed her leg and bounced her foot as she waited, praying the file wasn’t bogus, but would contain viable information that could shut Rowland down.

Her screen exploded with multiple folders. She clicked on the first one. Black–and-white weapon schematics peppered her view. She clicked out and moved to the next file. Past travel documents popped up.

So far, this file was a dud.

She dug deeper, spied another folder tucked within the clutter and labeled “DH.”
What the hell?
She dragged the cursor over it and double-clicked.

A handful of additional files popped up. What was this? A freaking wormhole?

She clicked on the first file.

Photos of badly burned naked bodies populated her screen. Men, women and children with twisted limbs and faces unmoving in their torment stared up at her. The gruesome photos reminded Lily of old WWII concentration camps. Only these were worse. Far worse. And in full color.

Lily had seen her fair share of death. But she hadn’t been prepared to see the tortured, mangled bodies or the faces frozen in agony.

What had she stumbled on? Better yet, what did it have to do with Rowland?

Closing that file, Lily moved to the next and double-clicked again. An Excel spreadsheet full of names populated the monitor. The first name sparked a memory.

She opened a tab in Safari, typed in Zagor Horvat and hit Enter. Multiple links popped up. He was head of the Croatian mafia. She grabbed a pen and notebook and scribbled down his name. He was a major kingpin in the Afghan heroin trafficking, human trafficking and money laundering. Killed by a swarm of bees that had been placed in the front seat of his Maserati.

She frowned, marked him deceased on her paper, then scanned the second article. The ME report stated that he was deathly allergic to bee stings. His car’s locks had malfunctioned. He’d been trapped.

Lily shuddered.
Malfunctioned, my ass.

Someone had murdered that man.

Next was Abu Zadran. He was connected to Al-Qaeda. Burned alive. Lily swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and moved on to the next name, the next target.

Twenty-seven names later, twenty-seven searches later, she stopped, her head swimming with the dark, murderous images. A number of unopened folders still remained, so Lily tried to regain her focus, clicking on one and scanning through its contents. As she read, she grew more and more dismayed.

The tattered pieces of information came together in Lily’s mind, shaping into the image of an organization that resembled a world-domination terrorism ring. She’d never heard of them, not even a scared whisper within the back confines of the black market. So what was all this information doing on Rowland’s hard drive? What did it have to do with him? Better yet...

What the hell was
Dům Hrůzy
?