“She’s clean,” the man told his boss, then stepped back and stood at attention.
Garrett nodded, comfortable with the power that comes from hired muscle and an underage target. Kat knew just how powerless she was supposed to be in that moment. She felt it in every one of her underaged, undersized bones. But she couldn’t bring herself to tremble. She knew too well what she had to do.
“You hired a bodyguard, Mr. Garrett.” She threw her hands to her chest and sounded especially girlie when she told him, “All for little ol’ me. I’m flattered.”
“Come, Kat. Surely you know that a man in my position requires some additional…insurance,” he said, then studied her. “Why are you smiling?”
“No reason.” Kat shrugged. “Your type of bad never really understands how to protect yourself against my type of bad. That’s all.”
“You are a talented girl,” he said.
“You’re not the first man to tell me that.” She looked the attorney up and down. “The other guy was scarier. But at least he didn’t pretend he wasn’t a killer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. You didn’t pull a trigger, but Hazel is dead because of you, and I know it. And I’m not the only one.”
“So…” Garrett walked into the small kitchen, opened a bottle, and poured himself a drink. “You’re here to…what? Warn me? Make a deal? Ask for a cut?”
“No, thank you.”
“I have no problem with you or your family, Miss Bishop. This was never about your family.”
“Hale is my family.”
Garrett gave a sickly sweet smile and put the cap back on the bottle. “That’s nice. But as I was saying, it’s not about you. Your father and your uncle and…whoever those other people are…they aren’t a part of this. I have nothing against you and yours. The good people at Interpol, however—I can’t speak for them.”
He took an intimidating step closer to Kat, looming over her as he said, “But if you continue to stand between me and my affairs, I will make a phone call, and you won’t like the results.”
He shifted, waiting for the threat to land, and when it didn’t, he narrowed his eyes and snapped, “What?”
“You’re missing the point,” Kat told him. “You know who I am. Good job, by the way. But I also know who you are. And I know what you did.”
“Are you going to say that makes us even?”
Kat glared. “Not even close.”
She couldn’t stand the sight of him, so she turned to the windows. “As we speak, copies of Hazel Hale’s DNR are circulating to the best handwriting experts in the world—one of whom happens to be my uncle Charlie. That part is already in motion—there’s nothing you can do about it now.” She looked back at him, leveled him with her stare. “There are just two options for what happens next.”
“And they are…” he asked, humoring her.
“Maybe those reports make their way to any number of people who can make your life difficult.”
“I will soon be a very wealthy man. I don’t care about difficult.”
“You will if it means you can’t sell the prototype. You see, Mr. Garrett, I can call the authorities, too.”
“You have no proof.”
“Oh, Garrett”—Kat made a tsk tsk tsk sound—“I can make proof. Or I can steal it. In any case, you don’t want me as an enemy.”
“And the second option?”
“You give me ten million dollars and this all goes away.”
He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Ten million? That’s all? That won’t support your boyfriend’s lifestyle for a year.”
“It’s not for me, and it’s not for Hale.”
“Then who is it for?”
“Marianne.” Kat laughed a little at his naiveté. They had come all this way and still he didn’t see the truth. “It was always for Marianne.”
“The maid?”
“The person you wrote out of the will. That was a stupid move, by the way. If you’d left her in, none of this would have happened.”
“Oh, I know.” He took a sip of his drink and rolled his eyes. “But Hazel wanted her to be the trustee, and I couldn’t have that, could I? She always was annoyingly honest.”
“Good people have a tendency to be that way. Makes me glad I don’t know that many.”
“Okay. The maid gets ten million. And that’s it?” He looked at Kat as if she were some rare species of human being. “You’re not going to try to save your boyfriend’s family business?”
“No, Mr. Garrett.” Kat slipped on her jacket and crossed the room. “I’m trying to save my boyfriend.”
Walking to the door, Kat knew she should have felt at ease. It was over. Almost. But something tugged at her, a lingering doubt she couldn’t silence, a steady whisper in her ear.
“Just one more thing.” Kat suddenly stopped. “Hale never sees you—or your daughter—again.”
A condescending smile spread across Garrett’s face.
“Anything else?”
“Do we have a deal, Mr. Garrett?”
He nodded. “Deal.”
“Tomorrow at noon. Grand Central Station. I’ll expect you there in person.”
“And have you show up with the authorities? I don’t think so.”
“Fine,” Kat conceded. “We’ll do it in…Niagara Falls. On the Canadian side. Far out of New York jurisdiction. How does that sound?”
“I didn’t peg you for a tourist.”
“Let’s just say I’m a girl who appreciates a crowd. There’s a scenic overlook a mile past the border. Bring ten million in untraceable bonds and don’t be late. If you are, I will personally make sure every member of my family knows there’s a price on your head. You’d be surprised how many of them are good at stealing people.”
The man smiled and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Forgive me if I can’t say the same.”
It didn’t matter how close Kat sat to the fire in Uncle Eddie’s drawing room; she still couldn’t get warm. She kept seeing Garrett’s cold smile, his black eyes. And she kept wondering if Hale would ever forgive her, knowing he was the one person whom she could never, ever con into forgetting her mistakes.
“Out of the frying pan…” she said to herself, unable to shake the feeling that it was just a matter of time until she got burned.
“You didn’t eat.” Uncle Eddie’s voice was gruff and sleepy as he came into the room. “Come, Katarina. I’ll make you something.”
“I’m not hungry,” she told him, and the old man shrugged.
“That’s a pity.” He dropped into a chair not far away. “My hands.” He looked down, held them against the light of the fire. “I don’t know what to do with them. It would have been nice to have a task.”
“Sorry. I wish I could be more help.”
He gave a shrug as if to say he’d grown used to disappointment, then propped a foot up on the coffee table, which was covered with photos and albums, the prep materials that nobody really needed anymore.
“I wish I’d known her.” Kat picked up the album that showed an image of Hale’s grandmother on her wedding day, standing between Reginald and her new husband.
“Have the boys found him?” Eddie asked, and Kat shook her head. The old man drew a deep breath then leaned back in his chair. “Your young man will be fine, Katarina.”
“I know,” Kat said.
“All young men must find their way. Yours is just a little off course at the moment.”
“He misses Hazel.”
Eddie nodded slowly. “I’m sure he does.”
And then Eddie struggled to his feet. Kat hated those moments—the seconds, really, where his hands would shake or his knees subtly refused to bear his weight. There was nothing as painful to Katarina Bishop as the gentle reminders that she was not the only member of her family who was growing older, that someday she too would be left with nothing but a book full of pictures and memories.
“If I lost you…” Kat’s voice broke. She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she stared down at the flames.
“You’re not going to lose me, Katarina.”
“Promise?”
Eddie gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Would I lie?”
She wanted to believe him, to know that it was true. But there were some things even the great Uncle Eddie couldn’t stop—and fate, as it turned out, was one of them.