Page 54 of Wicked Games
Carmen purred as she rose to her feet. “I adore you.”
I waited until I was alone with Lucien then asked, “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
“I bet this place is wired for sound,” I said, looking around like I might be able to spot a bug. I’d obviously read too many spy thrillers and watched too many movies.
“You’re so fucking adorable,” Lucien said, pulling me to him for a kiss. “Of course this place is wired for sound and video. You better keep your hands to yourself in our guest room unless you want us to show up as a viral video on PornHub.”
“Don’t insult me,” Carmen said, returning to the patio without our drinks. She did have a laptop and two manila envelopes though. “Oh, you thought I was making the drinks myself? How cute. Stephan will bring them out shortly along with a cheese tray.”
“We’re not hungry,” Lucien said, scowling at her.
“I could eat,” I told Carmen, wondering where exactly I was putting all the food I’d consumed the past ten hours.
Carmen slid the envelope across the table to me. “Here you go, sweetheart. This is a copy of everything I sent to your FBI friends.”
I accepted the envelope and opened it without hesitation. If she’d wanted to hurt me, she would’ve done so already. I pulled out a stack of documents including glossy photos of Daniel Perez having lunch with an attractive woman wearing a scarlet business suit. The woman’s face wasn’t showing in the photo, but I recognized her proud posture and the curly dark hair cascading down her back.
“I knew he was involved,” I growled. “He was too eager to throw me under the bus. I bet he hired me solely because of my history in Paris and Cairo.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I believe Perez called you his patsy.”
“Son of a bitch,” Lucien said angrily. He’d leaned over so he could see what I held in my hands. Anger rolled off him in waves. “What else is in the envelope?”
“A flash drive with copies of email correspondence between Perez and my alias, along with financial records showing the money leaving his account and landing in mine. The feds can trace the transaction numbers to the accounts. You’re welcome to use my laptop to validate what I’m telling you, but I enclosed printouts so this conversation would go quicker.”
“This is all the proof I need,” I said, holding up the documents in my hand. “Perez paid you out of his personal account?” I asked incredulously. “Surely he wasn’t that stupid?”
“No,” Carmen said, “but I included the documentation they needed to attach Perez to the shell company who paid Lolita Dominguez to steal the vessel. Before you ask, the vessel is safe and sound in a safe-deposit box in Fifth Third Bank on Fountain Square. I’ve enclosed the key for them to retrieve it.”
“Why are you helping me?” I asked Carmen.
“I’m not helping you so much as I’m doing my job.”
“You were hired to catch Perez in the act,” Lucien stated. “By whom?”
“That part isn’t important. Unlike you, I’m an independent contractor. I take jobs from governments who want back what was stolen from them. I’m hired by insurance companies to recover items stolen from their clients, and therefore them, and sometimes I even consult with law enforcement agencies around the world to bust people like Daniel Perez.”
“Forget telling us who hired you,” I said, waving my hand in the air. Judging by the wealth surrounding us, Carmen’s services were in high demand, and her jobs paid well. None of it mattered to me. “The important thing to me is how he ended up on their radar.”
“Let’s say I’ve been watching him for a long time. He didn’t willingly leave the Smithsonian, Ryder. A few of their acquisitions turned out to be fakes or stolen, and although they couldn’t prove he was involved, it was apparent he hadn’t done his due diligence by checking provenance.”
“Wow,” I said, sitting back in my chair.
“Perez was a wily one, but he couldn’t resist Lolita’s charms.” She smiled wickedly at me. “That solves your problem, sweetheart; now we need to save Lucky from Banks.”
“And how do you propose we do this?” Lucky asked.
“I have an envelope for you too.”
IWASN’T AS EAGER TOopen my envelope as Ryder had been. It triggered a flashback to a time when Banks had dropped one just like it on the table where I’d waited to meet Hiram for lunch. We’d both been on leave at the time, so why not meet in Italy for a brief lovers’ getaway?
Banks had handed me a business card when I glanced up from the envelope to meet his cold gaze. “Call me within twenty-four hours, or I release those photographs to the press.” I’d risen to my feet, ready to challenge him right then and there, but his cold smile had stopped me in my place. “While those images may not cause harm to you, they’ll destroy your lover and may result in his death. Call me.”
Banks had walked away with his head held high because he knew he’d had me by the balls. A part of me had already known I could never have a life with Hiram, but I never thought our relationship would end that way. I snatched up the envelope and immediately left the restaurant before Hiram arrived. I checked out of the hotel I’d booked and got as far away from him as I could within the time frame Banks had allowed. Hiram had called my phone dozens of times and left messages ranging from concerned to frantic to angry. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I didn’t say anything. I waited until the twenty-third hour before I opened the envelope. I cried when I saw the color photos of us engaging in passionate sex on a balcony or kissing in the rain on a faraway street where we didn’t think anyone watching would care.
We’d been so wrong; and it changed the course of both of our lives. I never spoke with Hiram—not to say goodbye and certainly not to tell him about the photos. I allowed him to believe he’d meant nothing to me. I didn’t think I could hate Banks any more than I already did until I met Ryder.