When I reach Jim’s door, King is standing just outside. He acknowledges me as I approach, raising a hand and stepping in front of the door before I can knock it down. “Jim’s simulation predicted correctly this time,” he says with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t too fond of this idea myself, but he thinks it’s the fastest way to draw Desmond out of hiding.”
“And the fastest way to get the girl killed,” I bellow into his smug British face. “She doesn’t even know what sort of risk she’s taking. Jim didn’t need a predictive machine to figure out that I wouldn’t be okay with it.”
The door opens, and Jim’s head pops through the opening. “That’s where you’re wrong, my boy. Now come in here and stop shouting in the halls.”
I’d rather come into the room and throttle both of these men, but I bite my tongue and wait to hear his explanation. Even once I’ve heard it, I’m not satisfied.
The “special guest” was Quinn’s idea, and both Jim and King warned her about the dangers. It’s meant to bait out Desmond, but there’s no guarantee he’ll take that bait. He’s smart, and he’ll see this coming.
“It’s some weird fantasy we’re allowing her to live out,” Jim says with a flail of his hand. “I was shocked she wanted to kill, but I’m even more shocked that she has a desire to sleep with a killer.”
“So who’s the lucky chap tonight?” I ask with a roll of my eyes. “Surely no one has tried to take this offer.”
Jim winces. “As of right now...Ice Pick. He’s called no fewer than three times.”
I blow out a breath. At least we know he’s harmless. He’ll probably just sit in a corner and giggle the entire time.
The phone rings, sending Kenny into a wild flailing of wing flaps and screams. Jim hurries for the phone, leaving King and me in the main living area.
“What do you think about all this?” I ask.
His broad shoulders rise in a shrug. “While I don’t like this risk, I can’t deny that having her be such a willing bit of flash in the pan for Desmond is a benefit. He may not take the bait tonight, but if we keep trying...”
“How often do you expect us to put her in danger like this?”
“Until he makes a move that reveals who he is. We’ve narrowed it to three men, but he could be any of them.”
“Or he might be none of them.”
“He is,” King says with a certainty that almost makes me believe him. “We’ve set this up too perfectly. There’s a little bit of the equation we haven’t let Quinn in on just yet, but once we have Desmond, we’ll tell her everything.”
“I won’t keep any more of your secrets, so I don’t want to know. So long as I have the information to do my job, that’s all I require.”
King nods. “I understand, but?—”
“No buts.”
Jim rushes back to the living area. “Aven, we’ve just had a call from one of the men we suspect may be Desmond, and he wanted to meet with Quinn, but he got nervous and backed out. That means Ice Pick is our only option for tonight. If the other men can see her interact, it might give them some confidence, so can you meet Ice Pick in the costume department?”
“You’re really going through with this? You’re sending in Ice Pick?” I cannae believe my ears. “Jim, he’ll blow this entire thing out of the water. You can’t do this.”
King and Jim share a glance.
“No,” I say. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
“She wouldn’t even know it was you,” King says.
“And how will she think it’s anyone else once she sees my face?”
King and Jim share another look, and minutes later, I’m headed toward the costume department to prepare for a date with Quinn.
Chapter Eleven
Aven
Iraise a lime-green fist, but I can’t bring myself to knock on the door. She won’t even know I’m the one sucked inside this ridiculous Zentai suit, but I’ll know. It’s mortifying. I look like a demented Teletubby walking the halls of the hotel. And now I’m supposed to go in here and enjoy a private show from a goddess?
There was a time in my life where I wielded an ax and brought wrath down on anyone who looked at me sideways. My god, how far I have fallen.
