Deception Page 9

  ‘Dan went to China, to stay with Wuu Sing Chow and negotiate. I was supposed to go, but I got caught up with—’ Jack hesitated and his voice cracked, making me glance at him, curious about what he wasn’t saying. ‘Caught up with other things.’

  ‘Dan stayed there for three days. On the last day he woke in the night to a big fat noisy mess. The jewels had been stolen from Wuu. Realising he was in huge danger and likely to be accused of the theft, Dan ran. But he wasn’t quick enough and they caught him.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Horror caught in my throat at the thought at what they would’ve done to Dan. ‘Oh my God.’

  The uneasy suspicion that it’d been Dad behind the theft from Wuu Sing Chow began to grow, a black cancer of shame, infecting every nook of my body.

  It was exactly the kind of thing he’d do.

  Take the jewels. Dangle them in front of the Indonesian government, the Dalai Lama and whoever else he could think of. Play the hero. Be the man who saved the jewels. It would’ve been too much for him to resist.

  ‘They tortured Dan, Lioness. Injured him. He is married. Has a beautiful wife and a newborn son. When I got to him he was barely alive.’

  I raised a hand to cover my eyes to shut out the image that danced before me, momentarily forgetting the handcuffs. But Jack caught my wrist and pulled my hands back.

  ***

  ‘I want them off.’ There was a note of strain in Merry’s voice that nearly made Jack flinch. ‘I want to hear the rest of the story but I want them off.’ She had a pinched, stressed look on her face, and for the hundredth time Jack had to ignore the guilt that washed over him. He wasn’t a bully. But he wasn’t taking no for an answer and his plan, this horrible, terrible plan was the only option. He dreaded what was coming next.

  ‘Wuu Sing Chow is still after me, Dan, and Dan’s family. His men nearly caught up with them last night, and he’s already caught up with me. To get him to leave Dan alone I need to text him a picture of the jewels to prove I have them. I need to do it now.’

  ‘I have them here. We can cut the cuffs off and I’ll get them. You can photograph them right away.’ All the fight had faded from Merry. She seemed almost desperate to help him. No longer a lioness. Just a gentle person trying to make up for the sins of her father.

  Jack looked at her puffy well-kissed lips and wished there was another way. He’d lost a part of himself as he’d kissed her. Or found a part. He couldn’t figure out which. He’d hoped kissing my might lessen the want, so powerful that there’d been times in the last twenty-four hours he thought it’d drive him mad. But it hadn’t lessened. It was worse than before. A thousand times worse. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without her now.

  One thing he did know, even being on the same continent as her would be agony. Because she’d never kiss him again.

  Never.

  She’d loathe him.

  ‘The handcuffs are titanium, a bolt cutter won’t get through them.’

  ‘Come on.’ She tugged the cuffs.

  Relief flowed over him. She led him through the house. Up three flights of stairs to the top level of the mansion.

  Neither of them spoke.

  She hesitated at the top of the stairs, before a door, as if she was reluctant to let him in. Then Merry pushed the door open.

  ‘Oh.’ Jack halted, surprised despite himself.

  ‘What?’ Merry bristled with defensiveness.

  ‘I didn’t expect this.’ He gestured to the room.

  ‘What did you expect?’ She looked half curious, half defensive.

  ‘Carpets, beige, priceless artefacts, no character. Not—’ The room was a mess. A study, not a bedroom. A huge desk could barely be seen beneath stacks of paper and books stood in the middle of the room. In one corner sat a fume cupboard, where a giant fan sucked away the toxic fumes of the glue she’d use to mend the trays of pot shards that covered every flat inch of surface.

  Merry glanced around. ‘It’s my workroom. I work here,’ she said in a voice that dared him to mock.

  ‘Those are African.’ Jack pointed to a pile of dusty shards that sat in one of the many trays that sat on the top of a low bookshelf nearby.

  Merry nodded. ‘From Tanzania.’

  ‘And you’ve been looking for that lost painting by Matisse?’ Jack pointed to a large colour printout thumbtacked to one of the corkboards that hung on the wall. A portrait of a woman in a long skirt and colourful top.

  ‘I heard a rumour about that one, might be in Munich.’ He realised he talked too fast and just a little too loud, but it was to cover his nerves. To cover his self-disgust. Damn Wuu Sing Chow. Damn him to hell.

  ‘Come on.’ She led him through the study and into her bedroom. It too was messy, with the covers thrown back on the bed. She wasn’t the ice-cold neat freak he’d expected. Underneath the facade she was a disorganised, chaotic archaeology nerd. It made him like her even more.

  ‘I get so busy.’ There was a note of defensiveness in her voice. ‘I don’t have time to make the bed.’ Merry led Jack into the quietness of a large walk-in wardrobe.

  He glanced at the neat rows of shoes, and hangers groaning with designer dresses. ‘This is what I was expecting.’

  ‘Do you want to see these jewels or not?’

  ‘I’m just surprised.’ He glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘I didn’t expect to find a total antiquities geek when I scratched the surface.’

  ‘What did you expect then?’

  ‘Ice water,’ Jack said, amused. ‘Rigid sophistication. A saleswoman.’

  Merry snorted in a deeply unsophisticated manner. ‘Shut your eyes. I’m opening the safe.’

  ‘I won’t look at the numbers. Trust me.’ His gut clenched. She’d never trust him again.

  Merry reached into the back of the cupboard and he listened to the beeps as she entered the code quickly.

  ‘Here they are.’ She fidgeted, and he saw there were goosebumps on her arms. She closed her eyes for a long moment and he noticed that her hand shook slightly.

  He wondered what had made her so nervous. She could have no idea what he was planning. She’d be kicking the crap out of him right now if she did.

  ‘Come through to my office.’ Merry was clearly keen to get to more neutral ground than the close intimacy of the closet. It smelled like her. A soft floral scent. He’d never forget it.

  In the office she cleared a stack of files off the only other chair and rolled the desk chair over.

  ‘Sit.’ He sat.

  Merry pushed her thumb against the container lock. With a sucking noise, it opened. The she sat back in my chair and sighed.

  ‘Can you feel that?’ Jack whispered. He could. It was like the jewels were glowing with warmth. He could see that she felt it too. Her eyes had turned dreamy.

  ‘Don’t be stupid. They’re just jewels.’ But her words were soft, with no malice or derision.

  ‘You can feel it too. It’s like valium. But there’s no possible way—’ Jack leaned over the canister, and took in the beauty of the jewels. ‘They’re incredible.’

  With his free hand he fumbled in his pocket. Anger clenched around his heart. He didn’t want to do this. She was amazing, fascinating, stunning, he wanted to know everything about her, work with her, wake up with her … And no one deserved what he was about to do.

  But he had to save himself, and Dan and his kid. There was no other choice.

  He pulled the small cylinder from his pocket.

  With his other hand, the one handcuffed to her, he reached out to pull one of the eggs out of the container. Merry made a small sound of distress and tried to shrink back.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t touch them,’ she said quickly. ‘Just photograph them where they are.’

  ‘Why?’ He placed his hand on one of the jewels, pulling her with him.

  The sensation was like someone had punched him in the chest and he jerked his hand back, and glanced at Merry in confusion.

  There’d been
an image in his mind; tangled limbs, and sex, so vivid he’d almost been able to smell it. Sex so good he couldn’t get enough of it. So good that it enslaved him and the independence he’d so carefully guarded in other relationships had been ripped away. And he hadn’t cared.

  The tangled limbs, the full soft kisses and the sheer joy of it came from one person. Merry.

  She swayed towards him, lips slightly parted. He knew he could kiss her again, place his mouth over hers, and handcuffed or not they’d end up in the bed in the other room. The passion that’d been simmering between them was on the brink of exploding. It’d taken everything he had to stop when they’d been downstairs.

  He raised the spray cylinder he held in his hand and pressed the top of it.

  She blinked and frowned at the fine mist that he sprayed in her face. Then she took in a sharp breath, grunted in surprise and breathed in again.

  ‘Bastard,’ she whispered as the drug hit her system. Her eyes drifted shut.

  He caught her as she went limp, and held her for a moment before carefully putting the jewels aside and awkwardly lowering her onto the floor. Fishing in his pocket he pulled out the handcuff key—which he’d palmed rather than actually swallowed—and quickly released himself from their grip.

  He checked his watch. She’d be coming out of it in a few minutes. She’d taken two good lungfuls, but the nerve agent would only affect her for a short time.

  Gathering up the jewels, and resetting the container so it’d open to his own thumbprint, he headed for the door. He glanced at her, lying loose and vulnerable on the floor.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Lioness.’ Sorry didn’t come close to expressing how he felt.

  Then he hurried downstairs.

  As he reached the front door, her earlier words came back to him. The place was as hard to get out of as it was to get in. He hesitated before trying to wrench the door open, scanning the area. He didn’t want to set off some security system that would trap him in the house. But domestic systems like this would likely have some manual override switch hidden close by. In case of fire or some other disaster. So that the owner could get out.

  A sound from outside in the street made him freeze. Had she woken up already, called for backup? Panic began to unfold in the pit of his stomach. He had to get the jewels out. He had to save Dan. A voice drifted to him and he stopped and listened more carefully. It was just passers-by. He was sure of it. A thumping sound came from upstairs.

  He’d hesitated too long.

  She was awake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jack tucked the jewels under his arm and felt along the top edge of the doorframe. Finding a slight depression, he pressed hard and stepped back as the locks in the door released with a clunk.

  ‘Oh hi—’ A man in a security firm uniform stood in the doorway looking startled. Jack’s heart stopped and thought seriously about not starting up again.

  ‘—Here to do a pick-up?’ The guard flipped out his ID.

  Jack stared at it for a moment, confused, then glanced beyond the man and his partner to where a square solid van was parked with a well-known security firm logo painted on the side. They did the cash deliveries and pick-ups for most of the banks.

  ‘Great,’ said Jack. ‘You seem to know your way around.’

  The guard frowned, suddenly uncertain, and Jack’s heart, already unsure, sank. ‘You need to call back to base to verify our identity before you let us in the house. That’s how they always do it.’ He gave Jack a suspicious look.

  ‘Oh, okay,’ said Jack. ‘I’m new around here. I don’t know the routine.’

  The guard looked alarmed and his hand dropped to the taser that sat on his hip. ‘New?’

  Jack eased towards him, calculating if he could slip past them and get to his jeep, parked across the road.

  ‘She and I—’ He gestured over his shoulder. ‘We are—We just—’

  ‘Oh.’ The guard grinned as comprehension bloomed, his suspicion ebbing away.

  ‘Meredith is sleeping, and I don’t know what’s going on, so maybe you should—’ Jack pulled the front door shut behind him, and dug in his pocket for his car keys.

  ‘Yeah, no worries, mate.’ The security guard pulled out his phone and winked at Jack.

  Jack took the opportunity to slide past them and hurry to his jeep.

  Ten minutes later he sprinted through the door of his hotel room, grabbed his bag, which sat on the end of the neatly made bed, and hurried downstairs to check out.

  ***

  I sat up, rubbed my hands across my face and jumped when the loose handcuff hit my nose. My eyes stung. Whatever he’d sprayed at me was still on my skin.

  I glanced around for the jewels. I knew they’d be gone, along with Jack Jones. But I looked anyway.

  Panic began to uncurl beneath my diaphragm. An unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation. I wasn’t sure what to do. And that hadn’t happened since the night my mother died. When everything had changed. Since then I’d always had a plan. Known what to do next. Refused to be caught unawares by anything. And now Jack Jones had, with unerring accuracy, found my only weak point and exploited it.

  The end result of which would most likely be that my father would die. And it would be my fault.

  The clunk of the front door slamming shut startled me. He was still in the house. I hadn’t been unconscious long at all.

  My phone began to ring, but I ignored it; my only focus was on getting Jack.

  Scrambling to my feet I shot down the stairs, keyed my pass code into the front door and wrenched it open. I halted abruptly at the sight of two smirking security guards.

  ‘He just left.’ The guard jerked a thumb in the direction of Jack’s departing jeep.

  ‘Why didn’t you stop him,’ I snarled. ‘He—’ I stopped talking abruptly. If I said he’d stolen something they’d call the police. The last thing I needed was the police involved. It’d sign my father’s death warrant if his kidnappers knew I’d lost the jewels. It still had to be secret. I had to get them back from Jack on my own.

  The smug smile dropped from the guard’s face. ‘Is everything alright, miss? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes.’ I found a smile somewhere. ‘Yes. Just fine. Are you here for the cash pick-up?’

  The guard nodded. ‘Just need you to verify back to base, and then we’ll get the bag from the strongroom downstairs.’

  ‘Good, I’ll make the call. Wait here.’ I raised a hand to make them wait, realising too late they’d see the handcuffs.

  The guard blinked and took a step back, more shocked than anything else. I shut the door. I had no words to explain.

  I sprinted back upstairs two at time, reaching for my phone on the desk to make the call to the security company, when my eye fell on a small key. The one Jack had swallowed in front of me.

  ‘Bastard.’ I picked it up and, with hands that shook, managed to release myself.

  ‘Shit.’ I threw the cuffs aside, made the call, and ran downstairs to sort out the cash transfer.

  ***

  Ten minutes later I stared into the bathroom mirror. I felt fine. Physically, anyway. There had been no ill effect from whatever chemical he’d sprayed at me.

  The rest of me was not fine. I was so angry. I was so completely furious about what Jack had done that I couldn’t even find thoughts to describe it.

  I rinsed my face. Then applied heavy make-up, like a mask. I took my time. Layering on foundation, grey eye shadow, dark mascara and heavy dark-red lipstick. I smoothed my hair back and tied it into a tight plait at the nape of my neck. Then I dressed. Black jeans. Black boots with no heel. Black t-shirt and my leather jacket over it.

  Jack had undoubtedly gone to give the jewels to Wuu Sing Chow. I hadn’t been able to place the man before, but ten minutes with Google had refreshed my memory. A kingpin amongst the local Asian-based businesses, he could be found in the Chinatown district when in Sydney.

  I glanced in the dressing room mirror. My hair tamed into a
neat plait. My make-up perfect. My black-on-black outfit, perfect. My bulletproof veneer, perfect.

  Lastly, I opened the safe and took out my handgun. After I checked it over, I slipped it into the holster I wore under my jacket.

  I gritted my teeth; I’d go to Chinatown, I’d find Wuu Sing Chow. I’d find Jack. I’d get the jewels back. I’d kill Jack. Then I’d sort out the situation with my father and the Indonesian government. It had all dragged on for long enough.

  I should’ve shot Jack when he broke into the beach house. It’d been a mistake not to.

  Opening an ornate enamelled box I kept right in the back of my wardrobe, I surveyed my collection of knives. Selecting a small one, I tucked it into the top of my long black boot.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I left my Jag parked in a side street filled with garbage bins. Then stalked around the corner and climbed three steps into a small doorway hung with red charms and decorated with ornate gilt moulding. Once magnificent, the gilt had peeled and the moulding was dusted black with pollution.

  The shop bell jingled as I entered.

  I breathed in the distinctive smell of old things, tinged with incense, linked my fingers loosely in front of myself and waited. The place was dim and musty, packed with ancient and not so ancient Chinese antiques.

  Before long there was movement from a room at the back of the shop. A lean middle-aged man stepped out, and drew in a gasp of surprise. ‘Miss Taylor, I didn’t expect you. Did my father call you?’

  I smiled and nodded politely. ‘Xing FuRui. No, he did not. It’s good to see you.’

  ‘Ah.’ He relaxed, pleased there hadn’t been some miscommunication. ‘So you’ve come to see me? Well, that’s just fine then. I would have been mortified if one of our most favourite customers had been summoned on a fool’s errand. Tea?’

  I inclined my head. Every visit to Xing’s Heavenly Store of Antiquities commenced with a cup of tea and polite conversation. I was in a hurry, but well practiced in hiding my habitual impatience. Wuu Sing Chow would be around here somewhere, and so would Jack.

  I had time.

  Xing FuRui gestured for me to sit on a rickety chair at an old wobbly table, and hurried away, returning in a moment to place a handle-less Chinese cup in front of me. Then, sinking to one knee, he muttered in Chinese and shoved a wedge of paper under one table leg.