Kiss Me While I Sleep cs-3 Read online

  He was right. A million dollars would improve her situation beyond all measure. Yet she still couldn’t jump at the offer, couldn’t ignore the possibility that the bait might blind her to the trap.

  “Consider these things. I will call you again tomorrow. I must have your answer then, or pursue other avenues.”

  The connection was broken. Automatically Lily checked her incoming call log for the number, but she wasn’t surprised to see that the information had been blocked; a man who had a million dollars available to hire a saboteur would also be able to afford layers of security.

  But would someone that wealthy work at the laboratory? Not likely. So how did he have this information? How could he get the schematics of the security system?

  Who he was, and how he got his information, was all-important. He could be a partner in Salvatore’s scheme who got cold feet when he thought about all the innocents who would die—though in Lily’s experience, people like the Nervis and their ilk simply didn’t care who or how many died, so long as they achieved their aim.

  Or had the caller been Rodrigo Nervi himself, telling her the truth about what was going on in order to draw her into a trap? He was intelligent enough, bold enough, to conceive and enact such a plot, to make it realistic down to the last detail, such as telling her he wanted her to kill Dr. Giordano.

  Rodrigo Nervi also had the means to acquire her cell phone number, which for the sake of privacy she had not had listed in the Pages Blanches.

  Her fingers were trembling as she punched in Swain’s number.

  On the third ring she heard his sleepy, “Good morning, sexy.”

  “Something has happened,” she said in a tense voice, ignoring his greeting. “I need to see you.”

  “Do you want me to pick you up, or do you want to come here?” He sounded instantly alert.

  “Pick me up,” she said; her caller’s warning about Rodrigo having people everywhere had made her nervous. She had known that, had felt safe riding the trains by covering her hair and wearing sunglasses, yet having been tracked down so easily by someone who evidently knew everything made her nervous. Most Parisians used the train service, because traffic was such a nightmare. Having people watch the trains for someone of her description was a no-brainer.

  “Depending on the traffic, I’ll be there in . . . oh, anywhere between an hour and two days.”

  “Call when you get close and I’ll meet you on the street,” she said, and disconnected without responding to his joke.

  She showered and dressed, in her usual pants and boots. A peek out the window showed a sunny sky, thank goodness, so she wouldn’t look odd wearing sunglasses. She pinned up her hair so she could cover it with a hat, then sat down at the small eating table and meticulously checked her weapon, then put extra ammunition in her bag. That call had definitely spooked her, something that didn’t often happen.

  “I’m five minutes away,” Swain announced an hour and fifteen minutes later.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Lily replied. She put on her coat and hat, then slipped on her sunglasses, grabbed her bag, and hurried downstairs. She could hear the sound of a powerful car engine prowling up the narrow, winding street at a reckless speed, then the silver car rocketed into view and screeched to a halt directly in front of her. It was moving again almost before she got the door closed.

  “What’s up?” Swain asked, without any of the usual teasing in his voice. He wore sunglasses, too, and the way he handled the car was fast but businesslike, with no goofing around.

  “I had a call on my cell phone,” she said as she buckled up. “I haven’t given the number to anyone but you, so I answered without checking the number. It wouldn’t have done me any good, anyway, because it was blocked. The voice was electronically disguised, but it was a man, and he offered me a million dollars—American—to destroy the Nervi lab and kill the doctor in charge.”

  “Go on,” he said, downshifting through a sharp curve.

  She spelled out the rest of it for him, including every detail she could remember. When she got to the part about the avian influenza virus, he very softly said, “Son of a bitch,” then listened to the rest without comment.

  When she was finished, he said, “How long did you talk?”

  “Five minutes or so. Maybe a little longer.”

  “Long enough to triangulate your position, then. Not an exact location, but the general area. If it was Nervi, he could blanket the area with people showing your photograph, and eventually he’d get a hit.”

  “I haven’t made any acquaintances here. The apartment is sublet from someone who’s out of the country.”

  “That helps, but your eyes are very distinctive. You must be part husky. Anyone who sees you will remember those eyes.”

  “Thanks,” she said drily.

  “I think you need to get what you need from the apartment, and stay with me instead. Definitely until he calls back. If it is Nervi and he does get another triangulation on your phone, it will be in a totally different district and that will throw him off.”

  “So he’ll think I’m moving around, not staying in any one place.”

  “With luck. It’s possible interference from the hotel itself would prevent anyone from locking on to the signal. Big buildings really screw up the electronics.”

  Stay with him. It was a sound plan; they would be together, she wouldn’t have to check in, and who would look for her in a luxury hotel?

  There were several pluses to the plan, and only one minus that she could see. Silly of her to get hung up on it, but she was still reluctant to be intimate with him and she wasn’t naive enough to think it wouldn’t happen if they were sleeping in the same room. There were bigger things here to worry about than whether they would have sex, yet still she hesitated.

  He gave her a hard, clear look that said he was reading her mind, but he didn’t jump in to reassure her he’d keep his hands to himself and not try to take advantage of the situation. Of course he’d take advantage. That was a given.

  “All right,” she said.

  He didn’t gloat, didn’t even smile. He just said, “Good. Now run through all that about the influenza virus again. I actually know someone in Atlanta who can tell me whether or not this is all feasible, before we rush in to save the world from some half-baked scheme that wouldn’t work anyway.”

  She repeated everything she remembered while he worked his way through the narrow streets back to her apartment. Pulling up to the curb, he said, “You want to drive around for a few minutes while I go up and check that no one’s in your apartment?”

  Lily tapped the side of her boot. “Thank you, but I can do it.”

  “I’ll be circling as best I can, given nothing seems to be laid out in a block. And while I’m circling, I’ll be making that call.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She climbed the stairs she had descended not half an hour before. When she’d left, she had pulled out a hair, wet it, and stuck it across the door and doorframe just an inch above the floor. The blond hair was as invisible as fishing line against the wood. She bent down close to look, and breathed a sigh of relief. The hair was still there. The apartment was safe. Unlocking the door, she went in and hurried around gathering her clothes and toiletries, everything she thought she would need. God only knew when or even if she’d ever be able to return for the rest of her things.

  23

  There were some old friends whose telephone numbers remained with you forever. Micah Sumner wasn’t one of them, however, so while Lily was in her apartment gathering her clothes, Swain was trying to negotiate the narrow streets, shift gears, and punch in what felt like an endless series of numbers as he waded through the electronic mire required to reach information in the States, all at the same time. Then he didn’t have anything to write the number down on, much less the fourth hand he needed to do it with, so when the computerized voice asked if he would like to be connected, he muttered, “Shit, yes,” then pressed the number that corresponded to “Shit, y