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“No, but they’re as deadly as a bullet, and they won’t be taken off me when I walk in the door.”
“Well, there is that,” she admitted. “Just promise me—”
“I’m always careful,” he interjected as he slipped on the glasses, “and did you forget you’ll be watching and whispering in my ear the whole time?”
“Not for a second.”
He sucked in a breath. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting this animal.”
“I would love to be standing next to you when you clamp those steel bracelets around his wrists,” she declared, then suddenly grabbing his hand, she kissed him on the cheek.
Not caring Brad was only a few feet away, he planted his mouth on hers, then shooting her a wink, he climbed into the front of the van and left through the driver’s door.
The night air was surprisingly cool.
Raising his eyes to the sky, he noticed a hazy ring around the moon. The forecast had called for clear skies, but the tropical weather could be unpredictable. Squaring his shoulders and psyching himself up, he marched across the street, approached the gates, and pushed the call button.
“Name, please?”
“Scott Specter.”
“One moment.”
Staring up at the noisy house, he spied multicolored lights flashing from a front room. As he listened to the thumping music and boisterous partygoers, he wondered if the neighbors would call the police, then grimaced at the thought. The boys in blue would be a hindrance, not a help. “Please come in, Mr. Specter,” the perky female voice said invitingly. “Richard Hammond will meet you at the front door.”
The pedestrian gate buzzed. Pushing it open, Scott strode up the driveway, and as he approached the portico, the raucous noise reminded him of the clubs where he once performed in Hollywood, and the rock concerts he and his old bandmates would flock to. Opening the door and stepping inside, he caught sight of a sharply dressed man walking swiftly toward him.
“Mr. Specter?” he shouted over the din.
“That’s me,” Scott shouted back.
“I’m Richard Hammond. Come with me.”
As they walked through the wide foyer, Scott spied half-naked girls laughing and dancing in a large room off to his left. Flashing back to the parties he’d enjoyed high above Sunset Strip, he couldn’t help but grin.
“I’ll take you to my favorite dining room,” Richard said, turning down a hallway. “It’s quiet. We can talk properly.”
“How many are there?” Scott asked as the noise began to fade.
“Three, but I think this one is the best,” he announced, opening a door.
“Does your client have a name?” Scott continued as Richard led him to a table.
“Sonny Conchello, you’ve probably heard of him.”
“It rings a vague bell,” Scott lied, pleased to see two young men sporting the large rings Danny had described, leaning against the wall bleary-eyed and yawning. “Isn’t he in property development?”
“Real estate is one of his businesses. Unfortunately, like many powerful men, he’s subject to unfounded rumors.”
“Hey, I get that too,” Scott exclaimed as Richard sat down, “and I’m just a humble sailing school captain.”
“As you can see, the buffet is against the wall. I’ve already eaten, but help yourself.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
Taking in his surroundings as he headed to the smorgasbord, Scott noticed two additional doors on either side of the room. Lifting a plate and helping himself to a slice of salmon with dill sauce, jasmine rice, and grilled asparagus, he was heading back to the table when he spotted Ewen MacDonald amble in. Scott glanced at his watch. It read 11:22 p.m. Ewen was supposed to have the money and tracker hidden somewhere inside the VIP room by 11:15 p.m.
“Would you like some chardonnay?” Richard offered as Scott sat down, pouring wine into a glass without waiting for a reply.
