I Spy a Wicked Sin (14 page)

Maybe the horror would vanish altogether and he’d never worry again about what he might have forgotten in his past.

Those secrets would simply vanish into the mists of time as though they’d never been.

No matter that his nightmares insisted differently.

Lily pulled into a space near the park and glanced around furtively. Pretty sure nobody was paying attention, she flipped open her cell phone and speed-dialed her boss’s number—her
real
boss, not the arrogant shithead who’d taken over and made the protocol at SHADO nearly unrecognizable.

“Ross residence,” a very British man said in greeting.

“Simon? This is Lily Vale. Don’t hang up on me—I
have
to talk to Michael,” she said, more than a little desperate. “This is regarding one of his agents and he needs to know—”

“Miss Vale, I’ll impart to you what I’ve said at least twice before. Michael has given me strict orders that he is not to be disturbed under any circumstances.”

“But—”

“That includes fire, flood, the next apocalypse, and wayward agents.”

“He has to hear—”

“The man is grieving and he has a full staff of educated personnel quite capable of handling whatever conundrum they’ve muddled their way into,” he said politely. But firmly. “I promise to have him phone you at his earliest convenience. Good-bye, love.”

Click.

“Fuck! Fuckity-fuck-fuck!”

A knock on her window nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. Jumping in her seat, she whipped her head around to find Robert Dietz smiling at her in amusement. Jackass.

Shouldering her purse, she shoved the cell phone and keys inside, got out, and punched the lock. Dietz stood back, waiting, and gestured toward her purse.

“I think you beat your poor phone to death.”

She shot the tall, sandy- haired man an annoyed look. “Crappy service. What can you do?”

“I can relate,” he said, nodding. “Let’s walk.”

They headed into the park, two nice professional- looking people out for a stroll. No one paid them any mind. “When you called, I told you I don’t have much.”

She braced herself for his question.

“Have you administered the first dose?”

“I have it planned for tonight,” she answered truthfully. Her stomach rebelled.

His piercing blue eyes pinned her with a searching look; then he seemed to relax. “Not as soon as I’d hoped, but it will do. What else do you have?”

“What makes you think I have squat?”

“Because you’re one of my best agents, that’s why.” He smirked.

One of
Michael’s
best, needle dick.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve found St. Laurent’s war room.” The instant the words left her mouth, she felt as though she’d betrayed Jude. She hated the crawling, oily sensation on her skin. “Or at least I believe so.”

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you believe. I want results.” He said it as calmly as if he’d remarked on the Yankees’ current stats.

She restrained the sudden urge to break his nose. “The access is in his master closet. Behind a hidden panel there’s a ladder descending to what is, in my opinion, an underground room. I think it’s likely we’ll find one or both of the files secreted there.”

“And were you planning on receiving an engraved invitation to visit it? Why the hell haven’t you been down there?”

“I’m not exactly alone in the house,” she snapped. “The housekeeper only comes once a week, but his chef lives there full-time. . . .”

In horror, she trailed off, hoping to keep the bald emotion from her expression. Sweet Mother of God, she’d just thrown Liam to the wolves. Her pulse beat a mad tattoo in her chest. If Dietz suspected she had an ounce of feeling for her new friend, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it to his advantage.

“Make an opportunity, slip St. Laurent and the chef both something if you have to, but get down there and see exactly what he’s got. I’ll expect a full report tomorrow.”

She stopped walking and gaped at him. “You want me to go down there tonight?”

“What better time? You’re giving our rogue agent the first dose, putting the chef out of commission. Hell, poison him, too. Who will know?”

Lily felt the blood drain from her face. “No. Both sick at the same time? If
they
didn’t suspect foul play, someone else would, eventually. It’s too risky.”

“Fine. I don’t give two shits how you corral the O’Neil kid, just do it.”

Oh, God. “You know his name?”

“Vale, I know everything.” Dietz gave her a wolfish grin. “I know, for example, when sweet Liam makes his trips into the city, and who he meets for a torrid tryst when he’s supposedly out buying groceries. I know he likes to jog along that isolated road out there in the mornings. Alone. Unprotected. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” she said, choking down her rage.

“Good. Don’t fail in your mission to kill St. Laurent, and pretty Liam lives to fuck you by the pool another day.” Reaching out, he touched her cheek. “Talk to you tomorrow, Miss Vale.”

He left her there, rooted to the spot, staring at his retreating back. In the space of ten minutes, the motherfucker had redefined the meaning of hell.

Dietz was everywhere, eyes and ears watching her every move. He knew things, personal stuff, he wasn’t supposed to—

Like a cog clicking into place, she recalled what Dietz had said during their last phone conversation. The pesky detail that had escaped her.

Dietz was referring to Jude’s past. His upbringing in the red-light district of New Orleans, son of a whore and her john.

A past that was
not
noted anywhere in Jude’s file.

How had Dietz learned that information? What the fuck was going on? No answers, and night would fall too soon.

Then she’d have to begin killing Jude.

One wicked sin at a time.

L
ily’s nerves were frayed by the time she returned to the estate. Just so she didn’t show up empty- handed and risk arousing suspicion, she’d stopped at a trendy boutique and bought a blouse, hardly noticing what she’d chosen. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

Shopping bag in hand, she parked in the massive garage and entered through the kitchen, halting in her tracks at the sight of Liam stirring something on the stove and singing. Happy as the proverbial clam, handsome face shining.

Glancing over at her, his gray eyes lit up. “Hey! I see you found something. What did you buy?” His smile died. “Jesus, what’s wrong? You look like someone boiled your bunny.”

She shook herself mentally and rolled her eyes. “Traffic. It’s not quite as bad here as in California, but I’d forgotten how insane the drivers are in Westchester. I think I need a Valium now.”

“Hmm. How about a glass of Merlot instead? It’ll taste better, too.”

“Sounds lovely.”

Liam took a bottle from the wine rack in the corner of the kitchen and uncorked it. He fetched two glasses and poured the wine, then handed her one.

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I get that a lot. Cheers.”

They clinked glasses and Lily took a sip, moaning in bliss. “Oh, this is good.”

“Yeah.” He stared out the window over the sink with a dreamy expression, a half smile curving those yummy lips.

“What are you . . . ?” She giggled. “He nailed you, didn’t he?”

“So crude! I’m shocked, Miss Vale.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Somehow, though, I doubt anything could shock you where Jude is concerned.” She studied him, wondering if there was more information she could pump from Liam, stuff he wasn’t even aware of.

Liam sighed. “He’s an incredible man, unlike anyone I’ve ever known. Except maybe you. Being incredible, and
so
not a man.”

“I hear a
but
in there. Is this where you fess up as to what’s got you turned inside out? Or who?”

Belatedly, she recalled Dietz hinting at Liam’s secret liaisons with someone and cursed herself for not questioning it at the time. Though if she’d shown interest, the bastard probably wouldn’t have told her.

“And ruin a perfectly nice afternoon? Of course not.”

“All right. I can take a hint. Just remember, you’re pretty incredible yourself and nobody has the right to make you feel otherwise.”

Sadness flashed in his eyes, there and gone. “Nah. I’m just the short-order cook, dishwasher, and onetime window repairman as of today.”

She arched a brow, ignoring his self-deprecating joke. “Window repair?”

“Correction.
I’m
not going to fix it. The glass people are. Tomorrow.” He took a healthy drink of his wine. “You missed the fireworks. Jude had sort of an episode earlier. The nightmares, his situation, all of it exploded and he trashed his studio. Hurled a chair through the big picture window and cut himself.”

“Good Lord,” she breathed. “Is he all right?”

“On the outside, a few cuts, the worst ones on his arm and the bottom of his foot. On the inside? He’s falling apart, Lily.” Setting down his glass, he pushed a hand through his dark bangs.

“He’s become convinced he’s killed people. Called himself a monster. H-he asked me why he didn’t just die in the accident. God, he was so down it broke my heart.”

Lily’s broke, too. Clean in half.

The only humane thing to do was to put him down. Out of his misery, before he recalled the atrocities he’d committed against his country.

Before he turned and went back to the dark side.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to him,” Liam went on.

“Maybe he’s never really recovered from the accident,” she offered quietly. “What he’s suffering could be a health issue he might never get over.”

There. She’d planted the seed. She hated herself.

He nodded. “I’ve thought of that, but I refuse to believe it. There has to be another explanation.”

“Brain injury, coupled with stress, can have serious consequences on a person’s well-being. If he won’t see anyone, there’s not much you can do except be there for him.”

“I suppose.” He turned to stir one of his pots.

“Tell me, how did you and Jude meet?” The change of subject did the trick, the happy light returning to his expression.

“I ran over him.” He snorted. “On my moped.”

This time she laughed. The picture was too absurd not to react. “A
moped
? People still drive those?”

“Struggling chefs who can’t afford a car drive them. It got me where I needed to go—until I wrecked it while making Jude into a pancake.”

“And it was friendship at first sight?”

“Right. He was so mad, he threatened to sue me.” Liam chuckled at the memory. “I had twelve dollars and fifty-six cents in the bank, another fifteen in my pocket. I offered to make him dinner at my shitty apartment instead to make up for flattening him, and when he found out I was fresh out of chef’s school, he accepted.”

“Then you became friends?”

“By the time we finished eating, we’d hit it off. Anyway, when he demanded to know how I was going to fix my bike, he forced me to admit I’d spent every last dime I had to my name just to make him dinner. He was looking for a live- in chef, and the rest is history.”

The actions of a kind, considerate man who hadn’t stayed angry with someone who’d run him over. Who knew a gem when he saw one, and pulled the younger man out of dire straits. And that was long before Jude’s brain had been swept.

Lily was more uncertain than ever.

“Let me guess—you don’t drive a moped anymore?”

He shot her a sly sideways look from under his long lashes. “The Porsche in the garage is mine.”

“A gift from Jude?”

“He’s a generous man. Stick around and he’ll spoil you, too.”

Rather than forcing a lie, she hid behind her wine. Not for long, though. Liam’s enthusiasm for life was an addictive drug. She could listen to his chatter for hours and not grow tired of his company.

By the time they’d consumed two glasses of wine, Liam had finished dinner while telling her about growing up in Chattanooga as part of an average, blue-collar family. When he’d come out to his parents as bisexual, they’d kicked him out and told him never to darken their door again. He’d hitchhiked to New York with only the clothes on his back.

When she asked how he’d gotten the money for chef school, his beautiful eyes flashed with sorrow. He told her she didn’t want to know.

Fortunately, Liam’s melancholy was brief. Jude walked into the kitchen and leaned on his cane, breathing in the spicy aroma. “What smells so good? Christ, is that seafood gumbo?”