“Shouldn’t we call the police? The FBI?” Michael asked.
“No!” Mr. Smith and Lucas answered him at the same time. Lucas knew not all of Mr. Smith’s “collection” was purchasedlegitimately and the man wouldn’t want police getting involved in an investigation.
“Sara will be dead if Balor gets any whiff of police being involved,” Lucas said. He would have to shift and he didn’t want to have to explain when he did it. “Trust me. I know the guy.”
Michael looked doubtful, but to everyone’s relief, the phone rang.
Mr. Smith’s hand shook as he picked up the receiver. “Hello?” His face blanched as he listened to the message and then slowly hung up.
“I’m to meet him at a Circle K off Loop 820,” he said and swallowed hard. “He said to come alone.”
“It’ll be a fake meet,” Lucas said. “And then they’ll send you to another place and probably a third one. They’ll be looking for a tail.”
“Can’t you just ride with me in the car and stay hidden?” Mr. Smith stammered.
“My guess is that when you get to the Circle K, another car will be waiting for you to use,” Lucas said, “and it will have a monitor to check if you use your cell phone.”
Mr. Smith began to tremble. “Oh, my—”
“Did the guy call you by name?” Michael interrupted.
“No. Why?” The man’s eyes were dilated with fear.
“Then it won’t matter who goes. As long as it’s just one person. I’ll go.”
Lucas had been about to suggest the same thing, but now he reconsidered. He was ninety-nine percent sure Michael was on their side, but what if he wasn’t? What if Balor really were controlling his mind? Sara would be defenseless. However, he’d rather have McCain out in front of him that following behind. And this would make it easier for him to shift. He could barely contain the wolf right now, even after centuries of practice.
He took the pendant off from around his neck. “Wear this,” he said as he handed it to Michael. “I’ll be able to find you.”
Mr. Smith started to open his mouth to ask a question, but snapped it shut. Michael just gave Lucas a long look and then slipped the cross over his head.
“Let’s get the show on the road, then,” he said.
****
Sara recognized the man instantly. Even though he was impeccably tailored in an expensive Armani suit and silk tie, she would have known that eye patch anywhere. It was the man from the shadows at Sotheby’s. The air suddenly became oppressively still, like low-hanging black clouds before a major storm.
He hardly glanced her way. “Well done,” he said to the two men as he sat down at the table and placed a bottle of Glenlivet scotch on the table. “You’ll be well-rewarded. Have either of you gentlemen tasted this before?”
Manipulator. Both of them probably had criminal records a yard long. But they straightened in their chairs and the younger one grinned.
“Can’t say that we have.”
Baylor gave him a cultured smile. “Then you’re in for a real treat. Glasses?”
The older one went to the cupboard and came back with three glasses and Baylor poured the liquor. “To a good job, well done,” he said and lifted his glass.
The brothers drained theirs as though they were chugging beer, which is probably what they were used to, Sara thought as she watched covertly. She noticed that Baylor didn’t really swallow any of his.
“Well, now,” he said after they’d finished a second round, “let me pay you so you can be on your way.” He looked over at Sara and grinned. “I have plans for the lady.”
The men snickered, took their money and left.
Baylor remained sitting at the table until he heard the engine fade away into the distance. Then he took a linen handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped his fingerprints off the glass and the bottle. “I wouldn’t drink any of that if I were you,” he said as he came over and sat down on the sofa near Sara.
A chill ran through her, whether from his presence or the fact that he had all but admitted the liquor had been poisoned. And the incriminating evidence would lead to her. If she were still alive, that is.
“You want the document,” she said.
