Mysterious (16 page)

"But we have only part of it." Jerome was saying. "Half of the information seems to be missing. The pages are numbered. They read one of fifty, two of fifty, so on. It stops at twenty-five of fifty." He paused, looking at her. "There’s obviously another microdot that contains the other twenty-five pages. What do you think Richard did with it?"

She halted her roaming steps and took hold of the back of a chair for support. "My best guess is that he sold it."

"In Switzerland, to Gardner Benjamin?"

"Probably."

"Why do you think he sold only half of the document?"

"I’m not sure. I know he didn’t trust the people he was dealing with."

"So he could have been holding out for . . . what? More money? A lead to something or someone bigger?"

"Richard always operated on the know-your-enemy concept. Maybe he felt that Gardner Benjamin was only an agent for someone higher."

Jerome jumped up from the couch. "So it’s conceivable that he was holding out for the top man." He hit his fist into the palm of his hand. "That must have been it. The question is, where do we go from here?"

Jennifer didn’t answer him. The name Wainright kept coming back to her. Nothing added up about him. He was Richard’s superior, but he had made no attempt to bring her in from the cold. Instead, he had sent two goons to . . . to what? She shuddered, recalling the time she had been on the run from them. Since the two phone calls, she hadn’t heard from Wainright, unless she wanted to count the ransacking of Jerome’s apartment. And she decided she did.

She glanced at Jerome. He had his back to her as he poured himself a drink. He had been so good through all of this, she thought. She loved him so much.

But she now knew just exactly how much was at stake, and she wouldn’t let Jerome risk his life anymore because of her. She remembered the earnest look in his eyes when he had told her that as long as she continued to tell him the truth, he could handle anything that came up. He would be hurt and angry when he found out she had made plans without him, but better that she be injured or killed than he on her account.

She made her decision. Until now she had been on the defensive. It was time she went on the offensive and made something happen. First chance she got, she was going to contact Wainright to arrange a meeting. She owed it to Jerome and she owed it to Richard.

#

It was the next afternoon when Leo gave Jerome a critical piece of information. "Jennifer Prescott ordered a cab to pick her up at twelve forty-five tonight and take her down to the warehouse district."

"Are you sure?"

"I’m sure. My friend Phil drives for that company. He’s the one who told me."

Jerome let his gaze drift across the street to the top floor of his apartment building, where Jennifer waited for him and felt a stab of pain. What was she up to? And why hadn’t she told him? He had thought the time of secrets between them was past. His jaw clenched as he turned back to Leo. "What else?"

"The dispatcher said she was very specific. Whoever was sent should wait around the corner from your building, out of sight."

"Damn!" He couldn’t trust her after all.

"Look, Jerome, I’m sorry. But I thought you should know."

"You did the right thing to call me, Leo. I appreciate it." He thought for a minute. "Do you think it would be possible for that cabdriver you know to be the one who picks her up tonight?"

"Phil’s already volunteered."

"Good." He glanced down at the address Leo had written on a piece of paper. "Tell him there’ll be a bonus in it for him if he can take the long way down to the river. I need enough time to get there first."

An element that could almost be described as anxiety entered Leo’s voice. "Do you think you should? You don’t know who she’s meeting. It could be dangerous."

The corners of Jerome’s mouth rose, but the movement couldn’t in any way be described as a smile. "It doesn’t matter, Leo. I love her. I’ve got to be there."

#

Jennifer lay in Jerome’s arms, her legs and arms entwined with his. Their lovemaking had been more intense and passionate than usual. There had almost been an edge of desperation to it, as if there were a storm in both of them. Now they were spent. Never before had Jennifer felt so satisfied. She wanted nothing more than to stay close to Jerome, surrounded by his warmth and strength.

But that was impossible, because soon she was going to have to pretend to drift off to sleep, so that he would also go to sleep. She didn’t think he’d have any trouble. If she weren’t so nervous and anxious about the next few hours and what faced her, she herself would have already been asleep.

Jennifer stared into the darkness. She knew it was wrong of her to deceive Jerome this way, but she also knew that loving him as she did, she would do a lot worse to keep him safe. She just hoped he would forgive her when he found out what she had done. Turning her head along his shoulder so that she could see his face, she made a silent promise to him that if she came out of this alive, she would never again keep anything from him.

"Jerome?"

"Hmmm?"

He sounded nearly asleep, she decided thankfully. "I love you." She lifted her head so that she could kiss his mouth softly. "And no matter what happens," she whispered, "I want you to remember that always."

Momentarily she felt his arms tighten around her, then he released her and rolled over on his side. And Jennifer, all alone now, with tears brimming behind her closed eyes, lay very still and pretended to fall asleep.

It had been all he could do not to pull her into his arms and tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere, Jerome thought grimly. But he had resisted. The initial hurt and anger he had experienced when he learned that Jennifer had not told him of her plans hadn’t lasted long.

Very quickly, deep concern and fear for her had replaced the hurt and anger. He had decided that she must have a very good reason for keeping this meeting to herself, and that it must also be very important to her. That was enough for him. Even though he had no way of knowing whom she had contacted or exactly what her plans were, he at least knew where she was going and what time she would arrive. And he had every intention of being there before her, to protect her with his life if necessary. He disciplined his breathing to a deep and even rhythm and waited.

A little while later he felt her weight lift from the bed and heard the quiet sounds of her hurried dressing. She stopped only long enough to lay a soft kiss on his cheek and then she was gone.

Jerome sat up and reached for his clothes.

#

The warehouse was dark and cold, a concrete and steel cave that smelled of cardboard and sawdust packing. Jerome eased silently into a space between stacks of crates, deciding he was at best only a few minutes ahead of Jennifer. His eyes probed the shadows intently, wondering if the person she was to meet was already here. Just then, down at the end of the warehouse, he heard a door opening, and stiffened.

Jennifer peered cautiously around the edge of the door, unconsciously holding her breath. So far so good, she thought, and breathed a brief prayer of thanks. The warehouse appeared empty and the side door had been unlocked, just as the note had said it would be. She slipped inside, then gently pushed the door to.

Fumbling in her purse, her shaking fingers closed around the shaft of her flashlight. She brought it out and clicked it on. She needed to find a light switch. Meeting Wainright in the dark wasn’t in her plan, she decided as she remembered how fast she had received her response.

She had been able to call Wainright only this morning after Jerome had gone into his office. She had almost lost her nerve when Wainright had answered in that familiar raspy voice. But she had told him she wanted a face-to-face meeting with him, and he had said he would arrange it and get back in touch with her.

Just a few hours later the brief note had been slipped under the door. It had said that Wainright would meet her at one o’clock in the morning in a warehouse down by the river. It had given the address, and had also said "Bring the microdot." It had been her confirmation that Jerome’s suspicions were correct. Wainright was the enemy, and Richard had suspected him. That was why Richard had begun to act so strangely.

Now the narrow beam of the flashlight speared through the darkness, playing along a near wall, seeking and finding a bank of light switches. Praying that the switches would not trigger any fans or other machinery, she experimentally flipped a few on and off until she found one that activated the overhead light directly in the center of the warehouse.

The edges of the expansive room were left in shadows, but, she thought, they shouldn’t need a lot of light, or, for that matter, time. The tapping of her heels on the concrete floor seemed unnaturally loud as she hurried toward the cone of light and its illusionary safety.

The stealthy gray-haired woman slipped behind the shelter of a hulking forklift. She had taken the precaution of removing her shoes to avoid making any noise, and the cold of the concrete floor seeped up into her stockinged feet. She ignored it.

Her eyes scanned the warehouse, briefly pausing on Jennifer Prescott. Jennifer wasn’t the reason she was here tonight, though, so her gaze resumed its search. She took a moment to wonder where Phil had taken up position. He had insisted that if she was going to come, he would be here to back her up. She knew she could depend on him. But locating Phil wasn’t her primary interest either.

Suddenly her eyes narrowed. There he was – a shadow within a shadow. Leo allowed herself a brief sigh of relief. She had found him, the man who was her main concern. Behind the crates, not fifteen feet away from her, crouched her son—Jerome.

Jennifer clasped her hands together, attempting to still their tremors. How swiftly and drastically circumstances changed, she thought. Just a short time before, she had left Jerome sleeping peacefully. She still didn’t know where she had gotten the strength to get out of that bed and leave him. She supposed it had come from her love of him and her desire to make things right for the two of them.

She knew she was taking an awful chance in coming here to try to bargain with Wainright, but it was something she felt she had to do. If all went as she hoped, in a couple of hours she would be able to crawl back in beside him, knowing that this nightmare was finally over. Then maybe they could begin again, just two people in love, without the baggage of her past weighing them down. That was what she wanted more than anything else in the world.

A sixth sense warned her, and she whirled. A man stood before her. He was tall, perhaps forty, and dressed in a beautifully tailored three-piece suit. His elegance, though, was spoiled by a certain sinister edge to the smile curving his mouth. He could be only Wainright.

Jennifer mentally chastised herself. If she were to come out of this encounter the victor, she was going to have to stay more alert. She had been so deep in her wishes and hopes for the future, she hadn’t even heard his approach.

"Jennifer." He gave a slight nod, and his all-too-familiar raspy voice sent cold, hard fear coursing down her spine.

"Mr. Wainright," she returned with more firmness than she felt. Looking behind him, she saw that two other men had materialized from out of the shadows to flank him, their emotionless faces staring at her from beneath the brims of their hats. She recognized them, and her blood froze.

"You told me to come alone." Fear made her throat constrict, and the words did not seem to carry as much firmness as she wished. She tried again and this time was successful. "I assumed you would return the favor."

"Ignore them," he advised almost pleasantly. "They’re merely here to keep me company." He flashed her a smile that in reality only emphasized his malevolent countenance. "I’m afraid of the dark."

She looked again at the two men. They were the same two men who had pursued her so relentlessly before she had met Jerome. "I presume one of these men is the ubiquitous Gardner Benjamin."

Wainrlght dismissed the man in question with a chillingly nonchalant shrug. "Mr. Benjamin was just a liaison between Richard and myself. He’s no longer with us. His contract. . . expired."

And more than likely so has Brewster, Jennifer thought bitterly. Keep your cool, she advised herself, or you’re not going to have a chance. She drew in a calming breath and tried another tack. "And what about Brewster?"

A frown temporarily creased Wainright’s brow. "Brewster? I don’t know who you’re talking about. And we’re wasting time. Do you have the microdot or don’t you? My men searched your boyfriend’s apartment and couldn’t find it."

"Destroyed it, you mean."

"The microdot is important, Jennifer, and I mean to have it, one way or another."

Nervously she licked her lips. She was about to take a wild shot in the dark. "Before we discuss the microdot, I have something I have to ask you."

A look of impatience crossed Wainright’s face. "What’s that?"

"I want to know what happened to Richard. Is he still alive?"

Something like a start of surprise went through Wainright’s body, then vanished. Seeming to choose his words carefully, he said, "Richard’s alive, but you’ll never see him again unless you turn over the microdot."

Jennifer had seen his surprise at her question, and while not immediately able to decide exactly what it meant, she knew she couldn’t trust him. "What proof can you give me that he’s alive?"

"As soon as you turn over the microdot, I’ll have my men take you to him."

"Come now, Mr. Wainright. Do you really believe that I would agree to something like that?"

He favored her with another of his deadly smiles. "Forgive me, Jennifer. One should never underestimate an adversary. You’ve been a most worthy opponent. You’ve handled yourself admirably throughout this entire ordeal. But it has been an ordeal, hasn’t it? So if you’ll just give me what I want, you’ll be reunited with Richard, and be able to go back to a normal life." His face hardened cruelly. "You have no choice. We will not discuss Richard until I have the microdot."