Kiss Me While I Sleep cs-3 Read online

  “Fournier,” the guard said, reading the name off the license. They checked the names against a list, which, she noticed, had only the two names on it, so completing their task didn’t take very long.

  “Go to the main entrance on the left,” the guard instructed, returning the licenses to them. “Park in the slot marked for visitors. I will call Monsieur Nervi and notify him of your arrival. Beside the door is a buzzer; press it and someone inside will release the lock for you to enter.”

  Lily nodded as she slipped the license back into her pocket, and raised the van window to shut out the cold air. She coughed several more times, because she didn’t think she had sounded hoarse enough when talking to the guard. The more she coughed, the worse the cough sounded, as if her throat was getting into the spirit of things. It was already a little sore, so she needed to be careful not to overdo.

  Two men stepped out of the entrance. One was Dr. Giordano. “That’s the doctor on the left,” she said to Swain. “The other man must be Damone Nervi.”

  There was, in fact, a strong family resemblance, but where Rodrigo was a very good looking man, Damone Nervi was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen, though in no way was he effeminate. His looks were classic, from his thick black hair to his smooth olive-toned skin. He was tall and trim, elegantly dressed in a double-breasted charcoal gray suit that draped on him the way only the Italians could get a suit to fit. Dr. Giordano was smiling in welcome, but Damone’s face was set in an aloof, rather stern expression.

  “Something’s off,” Lily murmured.

  “How?” Swain asked.

  “Supposedly we’re here at Damone’s insistence, so he shouldn’t look as if we’re as welcome as the plague.”

  “An apt simile,” he observed. “Yeah, I see what you mean. The doctor’s smiling, Damone isn’t. Maybe he isn’t a smiley type of guy.”

  Sometimes the most simple explanation was the best one, but Lily couldn’t shake her vague uneasiness. She parked the van in the appropriate slot and tried not to be obvious as she studied the two men.

  Swain didn’t wait. He left the van and strode confidently to the entrance, where he gave both men a brisk handshake. His bearing had changed, Lily realized, the habitual lazy saunter had been replaced by a walk that said, “get out of my way.” Everything about his body language had subtly changed, and he looked like an aggressive, no-nonsense businessman.

  According to their plan, she got out and went to the back of the van, opening the doors and getting out two clipboards that each held a thick sheaf of printed forms, plus two circuit testers that were totally useless for anything they were supposed to be doing but which Swain had decided looked impressive. They might even test a circuit or two, just to look as if they were doing something.

  Laden with this paraphernalia, taking care she held everything as a man would hold it rather than clutching the clipboards to her chest as women did, she approached the three men. “My associate, Charles Fournier,” Swain said, indicating her. “Damone Nervi, Dr. Giordano. The doctor has agreed to give us a tour, show us all the security measures in place in order to save time.”

  Her hands were occupied to prevent her from shaking hands, so everyone contented themselves with nods and greetings. Dr. Giordano was still relaxed and welcoming; if anything, Damone’s expression had gotten more stern. Lily’s uneasiness grew in proportion. Why was Damone acting as if this “inspection” hadn’t been his idea from the beginning?

  Damn. Could all of this have been orchestrated simply to draw her into a trap, into a private building where anything could happen to her and no one would ever be the wiser? Was Rodrigo even more cunning than she’d imagined? She had to admit that if so, he’d merely borrowed a page from her own book and drawn her into the trap by not jumping at the first few chances to capture her. Taking her off the street would have been noticed, and while Rodrigo had the political capital to make an incident go away, why spend it when he could simply be patient and lure her into a place where no one would notice anything? For all she knew, the lab was empty of personnel and the vehicles in the parking lot were just window dressing.

  If she had miscalculated, she had caused not only her own death but Swain’s also. She thought of all that laughter and zest for life being snuffed out, and went cold inside. The world would be a darker place without Lucas Swain in it. If anything happened to him because of her—

  But now Damone had turned away, and Dr. Giordano was chiding him for being so morose because his fiancée had cancelled a scheduled visit. “Perhaps you should visit her,” the doctor teased, slapping Damone on the back. “Women like it when we men come to them.”

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” Damone said, shrugging and looking faintly sheepish.

  Lily relaxed. Her imagination had been running away with her; Damone was simply in a bad mood because his girlfriend hadn’t visited.

  Dr. Giordano pressed a series of numbers on a keypad at the door, and it buzzed open. “We used to each have a card which we slid through a scanner, but people were forever losing their cards and the security company decided a keypad would be more secure,” he said as he stepped inside and they followed.

  “That’s true,” Swain said, “so long as no one gives the entry number to unauthorized people. However, I’ve been here two minutes, and I can already tell you that the number sequence for entry is six-nine-eight-three-one-five. You didn’t block the keypad with your body when you keyed in the number. Even worse, the keypad is tonal. I could hear it.” He pulled a tiny digital recorder from his pocket. “I activated this when you started to unlock the door, just in case.” He pressed the play button and a series of six different-toned little beeps sounded. “With this, I could open the door even if I didn’t know what the numbers were.”

  Dr. Giordano looked acutely embarrassed. “I assure you, I’m not usually so careless. I did not think I should be on guard against you.”

  “You should be on guard against everyone,” Swain replied, really getting into his role. “And the keypad should be changed so you don’t hear the tones. That’s the real weakness.”

  “Yes, I see.” Dr. Giordano pulled a notebook from the pocket of his lab coat and made a notation in it. “I will have this taken care of immediately.”

  “Good. After the tour, there are two exercises I’d like to conduct, if I may. My associate and I will plant fake explosives in various parts of the complex, and we will see how long it takes any of the workers here to spot something they consider suspicious. If no one notices anything, I’d like to make an announcement about what we have done, and invite them to look around, and notify you whenever they spot anything out of the ordinary. That raises their awareness, first knowing that these packages were put in place without being noticed, and again by in effect teaching them where to look and what to look for. Lastly, I’d like to conduct a bomb-threat evacuation, to time how long it takes everyone to clear the buildings, see what routes they use, and possible alternate routes. This would really be best done when your workforce is at its maximum number, but today was the only day available, so we’ll work with what we have.”

  Lily was impressed. Swain was doing a hell of an acting job. Not only that, she hadn’t known he had that tiny recorder. He must have acquired it while he was picking up the other electronics he thought they’d need.

  “Of course, that’s brilliant,” Dr. Giordano said. “Now, if you’ll please follow me?”

  To Lily’s consternation, Damone fell in step beside her while Swain walked beside Dr. Giordano. The last thing she wanted was one-on-one conversation with anyone. Because her hands were full, she couldn’t cover her mouth, but she turned her head into her shoulder and gave two hard coughs.

  Swain looked back at her. “Charles, that cough is sounding worse. You should take something for it.”

  “Later,” she croaked, and for good measure coughed again.

  “You are ill?” Damone inquired politely.

  “A cough only, monsieur.”