Read Online The Shaughnessey Accord by Alison Kent - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alison Kent
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call?"
He'd had to be. It was kill or be killed. Kill or watch innocent victims die of bullets, of abuse, needles in their veins or powder up their nose. "Are you going to judge me now? Change your mind about dessert?"
She rocked her head side to side. "I think all I'm doing is trying to figure you out."
"That could take a fairly long lifetime. I haven't yet managed it and I've been living with myself for, uh, quite a few years."
"How many?" she asked and nearly caught him off guard.
He leaned forward, rubbed his nose over hers. "Now, sweetheart. Numbers don't matter. You're only as old as you feel."
"Since my hands aren't free at the moment to do any feeling, I need you to tell me."
"You are a clever little thing, aren't you. "
"Actually, this faux cleverness is a weak attempt to keep my mind occupied." She sighed, deflated, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and stared across the room. "Otherwise, I'm going to think too much about what's going to happen next and whether I'm going to walk out of here alive."
"You will. We both will."
"How do you know?"
"It's what I do, remember? All that web-spinning and building-leaping?" When she looked even less convinced, he sighed. "Glory, listen to me. Even if the SOS wasn't picked up, I'll get us out of here. This is what I do. I need you to trust me."
"I do. It's just. . ."
"Just what?"
"It's just that I had an argument with my mother this morning and we didn't exactly hang up the phone on the best of terms."
God, but she was going to break his heart. Yet he went on making promises anyway. "No worries. You two can kiss and make up as soon as we're out of here."
"Do you think she and my father know what's happening?"
"With the police out front? I'm sure News Channel 4 is already on the scene. Plus, wanting to learn what they could about the shop . . ."
"The cops would've called my parents." She dropped her gaze, shifted so that she was leaning more against the wall than against him. "I don't want them to worry. I wish I could let them know I'm okay."
He hated that he couldn't offer her the cell phone he'd taken off the lookout. But Vuong could return any second and Tripp wasn't about to give up any advantage.
"Right now it's a standoff. No shots have been fired and no demands made."
"That we know of, anyway."
He nodded. "True. But this Danh Vuong didn't sound like a man with demands to make of anyone outside. What he wants is in here."
"That's what I don't get. I don't launder money or harbor political prisoners. What could he possibly want?"
Tripp blew out a long breath. If he told her the truth, he'd be jeopardizing his own case by exposing the Spectra agent. But he'd also have an intelligent and informed ally. And that never hurt in a pinch.
He bit the bullet. "The professor working on his memoir is not a professor. He's an agent of an international crime syndicate and he's using your shop as a drop point."
"A drop point," she echoed.
"A courier from Marian Diamonds is either being blackmailed into giving up details on illegal shipments out of Sierra Leone or is selling his soul to the devil."
"And you know this how? No, wait." She closed her eyes, shook her head. "I'm dizzy with these webs you're spinning, Tripp."
"Sorry, sweetheart. It's not a pretty life I lead. But I figure it's best you realize what you're dealing with here."
"What I'm dealing with? Are you kidding? I can't digest half of what you've said. Well, except for the part where you swore you wouldn't let anything happen to me."
"Did I say that?"
"I sure hope I didn't dream it. Though, actually, if I were dreaming all of this it would be a whole lot easier to deal with because morning would be on the way." She settled closer again. "You know, morning? Waking up? Stretching, yawning, getting a cup of coffee?"
"What about the smooching?"
One dark brow went up. "Smooching?"
"Smooching, cuddling. All those juicy early morning wake-up goodies."
"And here I thought you
He'd had to be. It was kill or be killed. Kill or watch innocent victims die of bullets, of abuse, needles in their veins or powder up their nose. "Are you going to judge me now? Change your mind about dessert?"
She rocked her head side to side. "I think all I'm doing is trying to figure you out."
"That could take a fairly long lifetime. I haven't yet managed it and I've been living with myself for, uh, quite a few years."
"How many?" she asked and nearly caught him off guard.
He leaned forward, rubbed his nose over hers. "Now, sweetheart. Numbers don't matter. You're only as old as you feel."
"Since my hands aren't free at the moment to do any feeling, I need you to tell me."
"You are a clever little thing, aren't you. "
"Actually, this faux cleverness is a weak attempt to keep my mind occupied." She sighed, deflated, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and stared across the room. "Otherwise, I'm going to think too much about what's going to happen next and whether I'm going to walk out of here alive."
"You will. We both will."
"How do you know?"
"It's what I do, remember? All that web-spinning and building-leaping?" When she looked even less convinced, he sighed. "Glory, listen to me. Even if the SOS wasn't picked up, I'll get us out of here. This is what I do. I need you to trust me."
"I do. It's just. . ."
"Just what?"
"It's just that I had an argument with my mother this morning and we didn't exactly hang up the phone on the best of terms."
God, but she was going to break his heart. Yet he went on making promises anyway. "No worries. You two can kiss and make up as soon as we're out of here."
"Do you think she and my father know what's happening?"
"With the police out front? I'm sure News Channel 4 is already on the scene. Plus, wanting to learn what they could about the shop . . ."
"The cops would've called my parents." She dropped her gaze, shifted so that she was leaning more against the wall than against him. "I don't want them to worry. I wish I could let them know I'm okay."
He hated that he couldn't offer her the cell phone he'd taken off the lookout. But Vuong could return any second and Tripp wasn't about to give up any advantage.
"Right now it's a standoff. No shots have been fired and no demands made."
"That we know of, anyway."
He nodded. "True. But this Danh Vuong didn't sound like a man with demands to make of anyone outside. What he wants is in here."
"That's what I don't get. I don't launder money or harbor political prisoners. What could he possibly want?"
Tripp blew out a long breath. If he told her the truth, he'd be jeopardizing his own case by exposing the Spectra agent. But he'd also have an intelligent and informed ally. And that never hurt in a pinch.
He bit the bullet. "The professor working on his memoir is not a professor. He's an agent of an international crime syndicate and he's using your shop as a drop point."
"A drop point," she echoed.
"A courier from Marian Diamonds is either being blackmailed into giving up details on illegal shipments out of Sierra Leone or is selling his soul to the devil."
"And you know this how? No, wait." She closed her eyes, shook her head. "I'm dizzy with these webs you're spinning, Tripp."
"Sorry, sweetheart. It's not a pretty life I lead. But I figure it's best you realize what you're dealing with here."
"What I'm dealing with? Are you kidding? I can't digest half of what you've said. Well, except for the part where you swore you wouldn't let anything happen to me."
"Did I say that?"
"I sure hope I didn't dream it. Though, actually, if I were dreaming all of this it would be a whole lot easier to deal with because morning would be on the way." She settled closer again. "You know, morning? Waking up? Stretching, yawning, getting a cup of coffee?"
"What about the smooching?"
One dark brow went up. "Smooching?"
"Smooching, cuddling. All those juicy early morning wake-up goodies."
"And here I thought you
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