LITMIR.BIZ

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You’re the one who threw me under the bus. I’ll do the Whale.” She smirked as her words and their implications landed.

      “You can’t change your mind now. I already gave him your answer.” He spit the words at her.

      “No you didn’t. You’re as afraid of him as I am. Good.” When the guard came back, she turned her back on Joe.

      “Right this way.”

      The man led them down a long, tiled hallway covered in oriental rugs and original artwork. He opened a set of pocket doors and ushered them into a well-appointed office. A large, masculine, dark cherry desk stood as the focal point of the room. A floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk looked out onto the lake. It showcased the owner’s power. It said, I’m king and I’m dangerous. Don’t waste my time. A six-foot marble statue stood in the corner—a toga-draped Roman woman pouring water from a pitcher. The couches and chairs were covered in soft, supple, beige leather. The walls were a dark tan, and the red rugs pulled the whole room together. Nouveau Riche. The owner made sure all who entered knew it. Even with the glitz, it was the man behind the desk who captured her attention. He had jet-black hair, beady black eyes, and a prominent hawk-like nose in a narrow face. The face wasn’t handsome as it was interesting. He looked ferocious.

      “Ms. Russell, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” As he stood to take her hand, she hoped she hid the surprise. He was the same height as her—small for a man, five feet four inches.

      “I’m sorry we haven’t been introduced.” Her eyes never left his face.

      “I’m Phil.”

      She tried to remove her hand from his, but he tightened his hold. Icicles flowed through her blood.

      “What a surprise you are. Leave us, all of you,” he commanded.

      “Mr.—” Joe tried to speak.

      “I said leave, including you, Angelo. We’ll be fine here, won’t we, Ms. Russell?”

      “I…guess,” Kyra said, watching everyone else scurry from the room. I’m the sacrificial virgin being offered up to the gods.

      “Ms. Russell. May I call you Kyra?”

      “Yes.”

      “A surprise you are, Kyra, both in beauty and intelligence.”

      They watched each other, assessing. “Why intelligence?”

      Laughing, he answered. “Because you hold your tongue and observe. Not many women—no, that’s not true—not many people are smart enough to keep quiet and listen. Do you understand why you’re here?” He stared into her eyes.

      “Yes,” she whispered, turning from his piercing gaze.

      He let go of her hand, offered her a seat. “Please sit. Help yourself, Maria outdid herself.”

      “No, thank you, I’m not hungry.” She took the single chair by the couch. His laughter poked at her nerves. What the hell is amusing him?

      “I like polite. Are you afraid I’ll sit too close to you?”

      Small talk and flirting, not what she’d been expecting. “No.”

      “Honesty. I like that too.”

      He sat in the chair opposite her. His eyes searched her face. Kyra adjusted her position and waited, back straight, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered.

      The silence filled the room. She understood he’d talk when he was ready. A smart man. He waited too. Intimidation seemed to be his game and he played it well. Hell, it worked. He wasn’t going to lay his cards on the table until he made a decision about her. Hoping he got to it sooner, rather than later, Kyra reined in her temper. It took all her control to do it.

      “Your color’s brightened. Are you hot?”

      “No.”

      “Are you annoyed?”

      “No.”

      “You’re sure?

      “Yes.”

      “Did I do something to make you mad?”

      “No, I’m nervous. I understand what you want from me. I don’t have a choice. I’d like to get to the how and when,” Kyra answered.

      * * * *

      Carl Stack packed up his briefcase to leave for the night when his desk phone rang. He grabbed it up. “Detective Stack here?”

      “It’s Eddie Johnson from dispatch, Carl. I have a Mrs. Church on the phone. She asked for Lieutenant Carrington. Isn’t it your file?”

      “It is. Send her over to me.” Carl steamed at the nerve of Jake butting into his cases. He picked up the receiver once Eddie transferred the call over.

      “Detective Stack here?”

      “Oh, Detective, I wanted to speak with Lieutenant Carrington.”

      “He’s not available at the moment, Mrs. Church. How can I help you?”

      The woman hemmed and hawed before she spoke again. “I need to tell the lieutenant something.”

      “When did you last speak with him?” Carl wiped the sweat from his brow.

      “Yesterday, why?”

      “No reason. What do you need to tell him?”

      The bastard’s gone over my head and is interviewing people on my case. What’s got his panties in a twist? Carl took three antacids from the roll on his desk and popped them into his mouth. He had a good thing going here and he’d be damned if Carrington was going to ruin it.

      “I was embarrassed to tell the lieutenant that my son told me if I didn’t give him the money, the mob would kill him. God forgive me. I believed he was playing me again.”

      Freak, it’s worse than I imagined. “I’ll pass that on to the lieutenant, Mrs. Church. We’ll do everything in our power to find your son.” Lucci had already paid him to turn a blind eye on this one. That ‘gung-ho asshole Carrington’ wasn’t what he needed right now. One more year and he’d be able to retire to a nice tropical island with his cash and live like a king. If he kept his head down and stayed out of Carrington’s way he’d make it to his goal.

      * * * *

      “I can see you’re nervous, but you and I haven’t spoken about anything. How do you know what I want? Are you a mind reader?” He watched her stare at the floor.

      “No.”

      “Look at me, Kyra.” He waited until she raised her eyes to his. “Nobody, Kyra, knows what or why I do anything, it’s how I’ve succeeded in life. Do you understand?”

      “Yes.”

      “It’s difficult to have a conversation with you if you’re only going to give one-syllable answers.”

      Her eyes had drawn his attention from the moment she entered the room. Damn, they were mesmerizing. How had she wound up here?

      “I’m sorry. This is a first for me.” She shrugged.

      He pressed a button on his desk. Moments later a maid walked in. “Yes, sir?”

      “Bring a pot of coffee with some Danish.”

      “Right away, sir.”

      They sat in silence until the maid came back with the coffee. Phil moved around the room, trying to decide if he’d use her. In the thick of things, he couldn’t care less about a tool. And make no mistake, she was a tool, but there was something about this one he wanted to get to know. But business is business. He cleared his mind, studied her some more. No matter how hard she tried to hide her nerves, they showed, along with her unhappiness. Her movements were jerky while her gaze scanned the room like a cornered animal. He poured a cup of coffee and

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