Page 75 of Lawbreaker

James was almost spitting with fury. “I should have made sure Everett was taken out. I should have gone myself to South America. What a mess!” He paced. “And now that ranch is guarded like Fort Knox. No way can I get to Everett.” He whirled. “But those two women are in and out of the city—his wife and his sister.” He smiled coldly. “I want one of them. Doesn’t matter which. We’ll take her and keep her and torture her. Let him find the body. Yes.” His eyes gleamed. “That will show him! I’ll pay him back for the misery he’s caused me!” He sat down behind his desk. “If I can’t kill him, I can take away something he loves!”

“Boss, his dad is rich and he’s a big name in politics. He could hurt you. He would, if you hurt his family.”

“He runs cattle,” he said. “What can he do to me?”

“His son could do a lot if he can get the intelligence committee on this.”

“He hasn’t, so far, because he hasn’t got my connections.” His eyes narrowed. “I want revenge. My career has suffered. I almost lost my job, my pension, because of his accusations. He has no proof! It’s his word against mine.” He looked at Peters. “You’d never sell me out, would you?”

“Never,” Peters said firmly. “We started out together. We’ll finish together.”

James stared at him for a long time. Finally, he relaxed. “All right. We’ll finish together. Find out how many bodyguards those women have and how they’re deployed.”

“Garza considers Everett’s wife like an adopted child.”

He frowned. Tony Garza was dangerous. He was mostly respectable these days, but still... He shrugged. “The sister, then. They said Everett was very fond of his baby sister. That will hurt him if we take her.”

“Tony...”

“Garza hates her,” he interrupted. “He won’t make trouble. He doesn’t care. Get some men on it.”

“Okay, boss.” Peters went out into the hall and caught his breath. It was getting harder to deal with James’s outbursts. Revenge was dangerous. If he killed Everett’s sister, he’d bring down the heat on himself and on everybody in the top-secret agency. But James was so high, he didn’t know, didn’t care. And Peters was going to be left holding the bag, whatever happened.

He recalled how excited he and Phillip James had been when they were accepted as senior CIA agents and given their badges. It had been the high point of both their lives. From grammar school they’d been buddies. Peters had been best man at James’s wedding. He’d been at the christening of James’s son.

Then, so suddenly, James had succumbed to pressure and power and money and drugs. Almost overnight, he’d changed from the idealistic young man Peters knew to this raging, wild husk of a man who wanted nothing but power, power, more power.

Peters didn’t want to go to prison for what James was authorizing. But if he tried to get out, he’d be dead. No way would he survive the attempt. He was in it for life now. It was not the future he’d planned for himself. Not at all.

Odalie had gone to the art gallery with Tony and admired his collection while he talked business in his office. She marveled at the many fine pieces he’d acquired and authenticated and then sold.

He came back out smiling. He shook hands with the man he’d come here to meet and walked him to the door. Then he went back to Odalie and caught her by the hand. “Enough business,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Let’s go somewhere and dance.”

“Dance?”

He grinned. “How about the Latin club?”

She knew the one he meant. She’d gone there with Stasia a few times. “I love it there.”

“Me, too. I’ll get Ben.”

They ate and drank and danced until late. Odalie was sleepy. Ben drove them back to her apartment. Tony walked her to her door and went inside with her. Stasia had left New York that afternoon, so they were alone.

She started to turn on the light, but he prevented her.

“We don’t need the light,” he whispered, and brought her close.

He kissed her softly, slowly, lifting her against his body until she moaned. Then he brought her close, close, in his arms, and his mouth opened on hers in a slow, rough heat of passion.

He drew back, finally, groaning, and buried his hot face in her throat. “How have I lived without that?” he whispered.

“You were so busy telling me what a pest I was,” she teased.

“Trying to ward it off,” he murmured. He drew in a long breath and lifted his head. He searched her eyes. “I thought I’d be sorry.” He smiled gently. “I’m not sorry.” He bent and kissed her quickly, roughly. “Keep your door locked and put on the chain latches, okay? Call me if you hear anything. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He kissed her one last time. “I’ll call you in the morning.”