“Then turn around and start over.” She took a sip of her wine, trying to read Olivia’s expression. “Don’t wait and let it simmer. Come right out with it.”
“Are you certain? I was trying to be diplomatic.”
“That’s always a lost cause between us.”
Olivia shrugged. “If it wasn’t a life-or-death situation, it has to be Lynch. I didn’t think that was possible, because you usually do such a great job of guarding yourself from him. But maybe something has changed lately…”
“It could hardly have changed, since I haven’t seen him for two weeks.”
“That sounded a bit barbed,” Olivia said. “Is he still in Tibet?”
“As far as I know.” She added warily, “And I don’t have any right to be barbed. We don’t have that kind of a relationship. We’re friends and partners, and anything else that occurs between us has to trail behind.”
“Bullshit,” Olivia said. “It would be nice if we could all keep our emotions in those neat little boxes, but it doesn’t happen. They all get jumbled up together and who the hell knows where they’ll land.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’ve known you since the day you met Adam Lynch years ago and you’re even more jumbled than most. You’ve both been moving cautiously around each other, but it was inevitable that you’d come together. Who could blame you? You’re both brilliant, and you match each other. Then add sexual tension, respect, admiration, and a number of other emotions that are guaranteed to drive you around the bend.”
Kendra forced a smile. “It sounds very uncomfortable.”
“You’d have to tell me. I’m on the outside. From what I’ve been able to judge, it’s like two fencers fighting a championship match. Sharp. Thrusting. Exciting. I have an idea you both draw blood on occasion.” She shrugged. “But I can’t let myself care, because you’d tell me to mind my own business. Which I will do, as long as you clarify that it’s Lynch with whom you’re having a problem and not some mystery serial killer.” She added softly, “Because I’ll always know a problem is there, Kendra.”
Kendra nodded ruefully. “Acknowledged.” She lifted her glass. “Between you and Harley, I don’t have a chance, do I?”
“Hell, no.” She turned toward the oven. “Now take Harley for a short walk, and then set the table while I finish dinner.”
* * *
Paul Fantinelli exited the elevator and strode across the rooftop patio of the London Hotel. The sun was setting over West Hollywood, and the poolside bar was packed with young entertainment industry professionals. There were the agents, the lower-level studio execs, and the impossibly good-looking stars- and starlets-in-the-making.
And a man who didn’t fit in any of those categories. Nick Parillo stood on the pool’s far side, nursing a drink as he stared at the lights of Sunset Boulevard. Parillo was a handsome man, maybe fifty, who obviously felt no connection to anyone or anything on that patio. He was dressed in an expensive suit, no tie, and a close-cropped hairstyle that almost appeared to be a military cut. He turned and waved Paul over.
“Nice hotel,” Fantinelli said.
Parillo shrugged and finished his drink. “Any problems this morning?”
“No, I blended in with the paparazzi. There were probably ten of them there at the school. No one suspected a thing. I was just another member of the pack.”
“Good. Anyone at that concert that I should know about?”
He shook his head. “It was only for the kids.” He held up the fingers of one hand. “That hotshot Congressman Dalborne who wants to be the next president, Delilah Winter, Jessie Mercado, and Kendra Michaels.”
“Kendra Michaels?” Parillo repeated. He swore softly. “And you didn’t think I’d be interested in her? Are you an idiot? Even you must have heard about her background.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. She teaches classes up there at the school.”
“Everything means something in this game. Particularly Kendra Michaels. Count on it.” He suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to him. “But it’s obvious you weren’t worried about anything that happened this morning. So why did you call and ask to meet me?”
“I just thought we needed to have a talk.” Fantinelli hesitated. He was already having second thoughts. Parillo wasn’t a man to fool with, and his contacts with the mob were legendary. But the stakes were high enough for Fantinelli to risk probing a little. He smiled ingratiatingly. “This deal is going to be a huge score. How much do you think you’re going to make off it?”
Parillo stiffened. “Don’t concern yourself with that. You’re not paid to do anything but obey orders. I chose you because the word on the streets is that you’re smart and your team couldn’t be traced back to me. Just do your job and you’ll get every dollar you’ve been promised.”
“Maybe I should have asked for more,” Fantinelli said softly. “Come on, I’ll do a better job for you than those Las Vegas guys you usually hire. Like I said, you must be making a fortune. Share a little.”
“Talk like that could be very dangerous for you.” Parillo’s eyes were suddenly fierce. “We made a deal. I’d advise you not to try to change it.” He took a step closer, and his voice deepened into a tone that sent an icy chill down Paul’s spine. “This isn’t only about money for me. You know nothing about how I operate or what other contacts I might have. Trust me, my friend, it’s about something far, far more important than that…”
CHAPTER
2
Where are you?” Special Agent Michael Griffin’s voice was distinctly annoyed when Kendra picked up his call the next day. “You’re safe, aren’t you? You’re not in a hospital or being held by terrorists at gunpoint?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked. “I’m just leaving my condo on the way to L.A. to attend a concert at the Hollywood Bowl with Jessie Mercado. And you’re the one who sounds like you should be in a mental hospital.”
“You’re right, I should be committed for ever paying attention to Lynch.”
“He told you I was being held by terrorists?”
“No, I just added that into the scenario because I was so pissed off at him for thinking he could use me to run his errands for him. He said that he was being held up in Tibet and I should check in with you occasionally to make sure everything was going well.”
“He called you? That’s more than I’ve gotten from him since he left here.”
“He didn’t call me. I received a visit from some special Tibetan envoy, Chodan Ki, who gave me his message. The bastard was very insistent I obey Lynch’s orders.” He growled. “I wanted to strangle him, but I had to bow and be polite. I could see that damn Metcalf trying to keep from laughing at me.”
She’d probably have laughed herself if she hadn’t been so pissed off at being the center of Lynch’s action, which spoke of his sheer arrogance and interference in her life. “I sympathize. Ignore Lynch as you usually do. I don’t know what got into him.”