The square-jawed man who towered next to her had thelookof a federal agent. But Yang would bet his next ticket to China that Blondie had the brains of one.
I had hoped to beat them here.
“He was paid to do a job.” The voice on the other end of the call was filled with derision. “Or at least hisfamilywill be paid. And paymentmadehim a professional.”
Yang—that wasn’t his real name; it was simply the codename he used on this side of the world—didn’t argue. There was no point. Besides, he had work to do.
“I assume you want me to finish what he started?”
“I think you’d better. Just in case,” Bishop’s tone had gone from disgusted to tired.
Bishop wasn’t the man’s real name either. But it was the only name Yang had ever called him.
“Just so you are aware,” he warned, “the feds beat me here.”
A grunt sounded through the phone. “No surprise there. Four members of Congress are dead along with various and sundry of their family members. The bodies probably hadn’t even begun to cool before the local branch had their best team investigating.”
“From what I can glean, Professor Chastain has not regained consciousness. But I am sure Senator Chastain was only too happy to answer their questions.”
“And that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it?” Bishop sighed heavily. “Because we have no idea what answers she might have given.”
“Mmm.” Yang pretended to study his shoes, but his eyes tracked the agents as they exited through the automatic doors. “But your source who is overseeing the investigation will no doubt make his report soon enough. Andthenyou will know.”
“I’ll know if it’s not too late. I’ll know if I haven’t been outed.”
“You have not been outed,” Yang assured Bishop. “Sullivan called and said as much. He said Senator McClean had not had a chance to tell the group why he had gathered them together.”
“Sullivan said he hadn’t heard McClean make any sort of announcement. That doesn’t mean the bastard hadn’t gotten the chance to pull people aside and share his suspicions one-on-one.”
“So then we simply do what we must.” Yang turned toward the lobby when the glass doors slid shut behind the FBI agents.
“Right.” There was determination in Bishop’s voice. “We finish the job Sullivan started, frame that kiddy-loving sonofabitch from Indiana, and hope John McClean didn’t have time to share his suspicions about me with Eliza or either of the Chastains.”
“Precisely,” Bishop agreed.
For a handful of seconds, there was quiet on the other end of the call. Then, Bishop cursed. “Damnit! You just know that two more suspicious deaths are going to sharpen the feds’ focus and make things more difficult for us.”
“Only two more?” Yang’s tone didn’t change. But he knew, if anyone could see inside the dark shadow cast by the brim of his pulled-low baseball cap, they would find curiosity in his eyes.
“Eliza Meadows and Black Knights Inc. are a far more complicated issue. I need to think about how to handle them.”
7
Black Knights Inc.
“Snug as a bug in a rug.” Fisher tucked the fluffy blanket tight around Eliza’s arms and legs. Not so much because he thought she’d appreciate the gesture. More because he needed her covered head to toe.
Her pajamas were…well…probablynotmeant to be overtly seductive. But on Eliza they might as well have been a lace teddy. The bottoms were long and shiny and slunk around her hips and ass when she walked, emphasizing every delicious jiggle. And the top? Oh, the top was pure fantasy.
Spaghetti straps.
Silky purple material.
Thin enough to cling to her nipples and show him their exact size and shape.
H-h-holy shit.
It had taken everything he had to lift the comforter and watch her crawl into bed without joining her there. And then he used what was left of his fraying control to stalk over to the armchair. When he sat, he curled his fingers so tightly around the armrests it was a wonder he didn’t rip the upholstery clean off the batting.
