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He’d thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep. But either he’d been exhausted after having so little sleep the night before in the Peninsula Hotel’s lobby, or the adrenaline ebbs and flows of the day had worn him out. Because he’d fallen fast asleep between one moment and the next. But he hadn’t dreamed of making love to Mei-li. He’d dreamed he was cuddling Linden and Laurel—a soft, baby-powdered armful of daughter in each arm—and Mei-li was there, smiling at them all. “They’re yours, too,” he’d told her in his dream. “I wouldn’t even have them if not for you.” He hadn’t had to say any more than that—she knew what was in his heart. She knew, because she knew him. And somehow it was a very reassuring feeling.
* * *
Terrell Blackwood’s disposable cell rang just past 8:15 p.m. “Yes?”
“There is another slight problem with your packages,” said a cold voice he recognized.
“What problem?”
“It’s being handled. But you need to be aware.”
So tell me! he wanted to demand. Instead he said in as reasonable a voice as he could muster, “Explain.”
“The owner of the packages was at the airport yesterday, asking questions.”
Terrell’s heart skipped a beat, then settled back into its normal rhythm. “You said it’s being handled. How?”
“Sleight of hand.”
Misdirection, Terrell interpreted. Like a magician, diverting the audience’s gaze. Look here, not there. “Let’s hope it works,” he warned. “You’re the one who assured me the acquisition and disposition of the packages could not fail. That’s what I’m paying you for, remember.”
“Don’t threaten me.” The cold voice took on a silky tone. “I could always return the packages to their rightful owner...for a reward.”
“That would display an incredible lack of foresight on your part.” Terrell was too close to his ultimate goal to be cowed, and his voice took on a hard edge. “I would be forced to remind you that you are not invulnerable.” Terrell hadn’t spent nearly twenty years in prison without learning how to convey a threat—the iron fist in a velvet glove. I’ve insulated myself, he was reminding the other man. Of the two of us, who has the most to lose?
* * *
Patrick dropped Dirk, Rafe and Mike at the Peninsula Hotel’s front door at 9:30 a.m. and went to park the Rolls. The three men rode up in the elevator in silence and found Mei-li waiting for them outside the door, purse in one hand, a loaded bag in the other. When Dirk raised a questioning eyebrow, she said, “I rang and knocked, but no one answered.”
Dirk frowned. “Where are Vanessa and Chet?” He wasn’t really expecting an answer, but he quickly unlocked the door and held it for Mei-li. Then he dumped the duffel bag on the floor by the door and moved through the suite, calling Vanessa’s name. There was no answer—the suite was empty. No Vanessa, no Chet. Chet had come to the suite first thing this morning with Mike and Rafe, and Vanessa had already been up and dressed at the time. Neither had mentioned going anywhere when he’d left for the bank, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
He strode back into the living room. “They’re not here,” he said, even though it was obvious. “Did Chet say anything to either of you?” he asked Rafe and Mike.
Rafe shook his head, and Mike said, “No, he didn’t. But...”
“But what?” When Mike hesitated, Dirk added, “Just say it.”
Mike blurted out, “What if they’re the ones retrieving the ransom for the kidnappers?” He glanced at Rafe, who was frowning ferociously. “What? I’m just saying what everyone is thinking.”
Dirk’s eyes met Mei-li’s, and she shook her head slightly. Don’t say anything, her eyes warned him.
The doorbell drew all eyes toward the sound. Mei-li was closest, so she answered the door. “Oh,” she said to Patrick, who stood framed in the doorway. “I thought it might be Vanessa and Chet.”
“They’re not here?” Patrick’s surprise was obvious.
“No,” Dirk said. “They’re—” His smartphone rang suddenly. The “unknown caller” ring combined with a quick glance at the screen told him who it was, and he steeled himself. “Yes?”
“Do you have the money?” said a voice he recognized. A voice he’d hear forever in his nightmares.
