Read In Too Deep Online

Authors: Cherry Adair

Tags: #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Fathers and Daughters, #Romantic Suspense, #Revenge, #Missing Persons, #Young Women, #Marquesas Islands (French Polynesia), #Islands

In Too Deep (35 page)

The door behind them slammed open.

"Papa!" Leli'a came tapping into the room accompanied by Bouchard. The gang was all here.

"What are you doing out of school?" Church demanded furiously. His face was red with temper. Things were obviously not going according to plan.

The girl's steps faltered. "I graduated months ago." Under her petulant tone was a tremor of fear.

"Go back to London until I tell you differently." He looked over Michael's head and motioned to one of the armed guards. "Get rid of her."

"No, Papa, wait. We have something important to tell you."

Church gave Bouchard a curious look. "I thought you were dead."

"A misunderstanding. They have the detonator for the pulse generator," Bouchard said as quickly as pulling off a Band-Aid. His voice was nasal because of his broken nose, which had swelled nicely and was black and painful looking.

Church's attention flew first to Michael, and then to Tally as he half-rose from his chair. "Impossible."

"She stole it, then gave it to him," Leli'a offered helpfully. She came and sat on the edge of her father's desk, a few feet from Tally. The two women eyed each other like two lionesses over a kill.

Church sank into his chair. "I don't bloody well have
time
for this shit," he told Bouchard, who hadn't moved from his position by the door. "How
you
died and were miraculously resurrected is another big question mark. But that can wait. Where is the detonator now?"

"They have it," Bouchard said.

"So
that's
why you're here," he said to Michael. "You knew about the weapons sale." Church's face and bald head were red with fury. No one outside his own circle was supposed to know about this deal.

"That's one of the reasons, yeah."

Church shot a glare from him to Tally. "Give me my property."

Tally glanced up at Michael. "Do you have his property?"

"No."

She looked back at her father. "Neither do I. Weapons sale?" Tally asked Michael. "What weapons sale?"

The guy on Michael's left was fascinated by the conversation, but his weapon was pointed unwaveringly at the middle of Michael's head. Good to know. "Your father's brokering arms deals with terrorists now."

"What's that got to do with brokering boats?"

Michael snorted. "The boats are stolen, the owners killed, and your father makes a tidy profit—Right, Church? You've heard of chop shops back home?" he asked Tally. "Well, Daddy Dearest here has the boating equivalent."

Tally looked from Michael to her father. "Is this true?"

"Small potatoes," Church told her. "Selling arms to my clients is far more lucrative. More entertaining, too."

"You're nothing but a crook," Tally said flatly.

"Watch that mouth," Church told his daughter. "I'm a businessman."

"And making a lot of money at it, I'm sure. Is that why Arnaud is trying to double-cross you?" Tally asked with false sweetness. "His bizarre behavior is starting to make sense to me now. Might as well 'fess up, Arnaud. He blew up a boat, and almost killed me, so
you'd
think he was dead. Then he was going to show up, and—what, Arnaud?"

"Don't listen to her fucking lies," Arnaud said hotly. "I was trying to retrieve the detonator for the pulse generator. For you. For the sale this afternoon."

"I trust no one. Not even you, Arnaud." Church opened a drawer and removed a Smith & Wesson, which he held casually. "Do you think I wasn't aware of what you've been doing in my absence? I've known for months you were planning a coup. Therefore I knew as soon as I heard the news of your death the reports were greatly exaggerated." The gun pointed at Bouchard. "The question is, should I give you one more opportunity to show your loyalty, or should I just do what is expedient and kill you now?"

"None of that is true," Arnaud said rapidly. "None of it. They are lies. We both have enemies—"

"Oh, shoot. I was hoping I got a vote," Tally told her father. The Smith & Wesson swung toward her. She gave it a dismissive glance, making Michael chuckle. "More power to you if you believe him. But I wouldn't turn my back on him if I were you." She shifted a little closer to Michael, her bare arm brushing his.

Listening to the conversation, Michael resisted touching her as he acclimated himself with the room. To his right, Leli'a had slid off the desk and made herself comfortable in one of two large armchairs. Bouchard was now on the sofa, a marble-topped coffee table in front of him. The window behind Church's desk was covered in floor-to-ceiling burgundy velvet drapes. Behind Tally, six armed men and a double door of solid wood. Outside, at least a dozen men armed with Ml6s and CAR-15s.

Fuck
. He missed binocular vision. He missed Hugo. He had neither. And the man responsible for his losses smirked at him from behind his desk as he pointed a gun at his own daughter.

"My buyers will be here soon." Church glanced at his watch. "Very soon. Where is my detonator?"

"Didn't he just ask us that question?" Tally wanted to know. "News flash. We're not telling you. Live with it."

While the crates and boxes of weapons and ammo were a hell of an incentive to any terrorist group, Michael knew the pulse generator was the real cause for the fast and furious bidding. No doubt, Church would receive an astronomical amount. But without the detonator, the sale would be a bust. No one wanted a weapon of mass destruction lacking an "on" switch. Pity.

Which was why Bouchard had been on the beach with it this morning. The man with the detonator called the tune.

And despite what he'd told Tally, Michael had the detonator. He'd left an encrypted message for his brothers. They'd find it and know what to do with it when the time came.

"Did you ask your trusty right-hand man over there where it is?" Michael indicated Bouchard. The lamp on Church's desk was heavy brass. He measured the distance. Nine feet. Seconds.

"How would I know?" Bouchard demanded.

"Because you had it with you on the beach this morning. You remember. When you tried to kill me?" Tally answered sweetly. "What were you doing with it, Arnaud?"

"I was bringing it back here for safekee—that's none of your business. She claims," he told Church, "they divided the device, and each hid half."

"Impossible," Church snapped, looking from one to the other with a deep scowl.

"Bummer, huh? Who knew something
that
important could be so carelessly dropped?" Tally asked, shaking her head in feigned amazement. "If I'd known it was so important to you, Arnaud, I'd have reminded you the minute you took your hands off my throat."

"You stupid bitch!" Leli'a stalked across the room and shoved Tally in the chest with the flat of her hand. "You don't see? Nobody wants you here. Nobody. You are nothing to us."

With gritted teeth, Tally shot to her feet and planted the heel of her hand on her sister's forehead and gave a good shove. Leli'a staggered backwards. "You know, even for a pain in the ass, you're a real pain in the ass. Knock it off," Tally said in a deceptively cool voice.

"There's nothing here I want. Have at it. You all deserve each other. And frankly, I deserve bet—push me again, and I'll break those fingers," Tally snarled as Leli'a shoved her again.

"That's enough, Leli'a. We have more pressing problems than your petty jealousies. Go. Check something in the kitchen. I'll have to delay the buyers from inspecting the merchandise until I can figure out what the hell this one-eyed moron has done with my detonator."

With a pout, Leli'a headed for the door. "She's not so smart if she brought your enemy with her, is she?" she said, standing at the open door.

"It doesn't matter who brought whom. They'll both be dead soon. You could be, too, so I'd advise you not to piss me off any more than you have already. Close the door behind you."

The door slammed.

Church inclined his head to a guard just inside the closed door. "Take this one to the waiting room." He indicated Tally, who was standing in front of her chair. "I'll call when I want her brought back."

Michael wasn't letting Tally out of his sight. God only knew what those goons out there would do to her. Even a blind man could tell her father didn't give a flying fuck about her. The trickle-down effect was clear. Just look at the way Bouchard had treated her.

"Thank you," Tally told Church. "I'm quite capable of removing myself from your august presen—damn it, let go!" She tried to shake the man's hand off her arm.

"I have business to conduct with the lieutenant. I'll call you if I need you."

"You need her now," Michael said flatly. "If she isn't alive, and where I can see her, I don't talk."

The door opened. Cruella was back.

"Henri left to pick up your guests," Leli'a told her father. "They'll be here in half an hour. Have they told you where it is yet?"

"Get out," her father snapped, rising to his feet. He crossed to her and jerked her by the arm until he could stare down into her face. "This has nothing to do with you. I wouldn't have this problem if you'd minded your own fucking business and stayed where I'd put you."

"I couldn't stay in school forever, Papa. I knew you'd want me here now that I—"

"That's something you and your fool sister have in common, Leli'a." He shoved her away, then slapped her with unconcerned brutality. Her head jerked back as she stared at him with wide, dark eyes. "You have the small brains of a woman. Women weren't designed to
think
. Women are for fucking. Nothing else."

He strode back behind his desk. "Do something useful. Remove the cover from the second drawer in the credenza behind you."

Despite her reddened cheek, the girl shot her father a triumphant look, but Michael saw a dose of fear in her dark eyes. She removed a folded drop cloth from a drawer, then shook out the white plastic sheet and dropped it to the carpet.

"In less than half an hour my buyers will be here," Church told Michael, indicating Leli'a should spread the cloth over the carpet as he was talking. "I can kill Tallulah now, or you can tell me where my detonation device is." He looked at Tally. "No hard feelings, darling. But I can't entertain if your entrails are splattered all over my carpet."

Michael heard Tally's swift inhalation beside him. He didn't look at her. Hell, he
couldn't
look at her. "You're one sick bastard, aren't you? Here's a news flash, asshole. I'm the one who has your detonation device. Kill her, and you might as well kill me while you're at it. As long as we're both alive and kicking, you have a small chance of getting what you want. Kill her, and that's history."

"Excuse me. Do I get a vote? Because right now swallowing agonizing cyanide, or being chewed alive by fire ants sounds much more appealing than standing here listening to you guys!"

"Let's not waste each other's time." Church leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his mouth. "You've gone to great lengths to return. You wanted revenge. You didn't achieve it. If I'm not going to get back the pulse generator detonator, what's to prevent me from killing both of you now?"

"Not a thing," Michael said mildly. The explosion would happen in—he tilted his wrist and glanced down—an hour and six minutes. Whether Church had the pulse generator detonator or not. Whether Michael was dead or alive. It made no damn difference.

"I should have killed you the last time you interfered in my business."

"It wasn't for lack of trying," Michael pointed out.

"Still," Church continued without pause, "I am curious as to why you brought Tallulah with you."

"You'll have to ask Bouchard."

Church glanced at his second in command. "So, you
did
invite her."

"No, Papa,
I
did," Leli'a said defiantly. "I wanted to meet her. I wanted to see if she was special. Or prettier than me."

"And to get rid of her once and for all," Michael said flatly.

"You stupid fucking bitch. All this trouble, and for what? Nothing! Get over here!" Church waved the gun at her, motioning her forward, and the girl moved closer. The white plastic sheet rustled underfoot.

Without flinching, Church aimed and fired, shooting his younger daughter between the eyes.

There was an abrupt, shocked silence, then Tally screamed as Leli'a crumpled onto the plastic sheet she'd used to protect her father's carpet.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." Tally pressed the back of her hand over her mouth as she stared with horror at the girl's body on the floor. A puddle of blood formed under Leli'a's head as she stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

Tally spun around to stare at Church. Blue eyes glazed with horror, white-faced, she struggled to get free of the men holding her. "You monster! You sick, despicable… monster!"

The phone on the desk rang. Ignoring Tally, Church picked up the receiver. "What is it? Are they here?" He listened intently, his attention now fixed on Michael. The color drained from his fleshy face. "Is that so? And… ? I see. How long? I will take care of it on this end." He paused. "Good. Send them in. Yes. That would be advisable."

Church put the phone down just as the door opened and four men stepped inside.

Michael glanced at them from the corner of his eye: low on the evolutionary scale, big and armed to the teeth.

Church's pissed-off voice demanded attention. "I've been informed by my people that you have set a detonation device on my merchandise."

"Yeah. Imagine that."

"The device is apparently set to go off in little over an hour. My guests will be here in minutes. You will tell my associates exactly how to disable the timing device."

"If I could, which I can't, I wouldn't. Guess it doesn't matter if you have the pulse generator's detonator after all. It's all going to go kaplooie, anyway."

"Wrong, Lieutenant. You
will
disable your bomb, and return my detonator. Show him why, if you please, Mr. Griffith. Not the hands. We might need them later." He glanced up at the men behind Tally. "Keep her from interfering."

Two of them held her arms. She struggled valiantly in their hold. Even managed to bite one of them on the back of the hand. But they managed to contain her, and hold her away from the main bout.

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