Beau put the registration back where it belonged and closed the glove box, panned the light around under the dash and found a spot to place the audio listening device. He made sure it was firmly attached, glad he was wearing the latex gloves.
After one last check, to be sure the device would remain in place, he eased out of the car, quietly closed the door, andshoved the black box into his waistband, out of sight beneath the leather jerkin.
The tendons in his neck felt tight, his nerves on edge. He checked, didn’t see anyone coming. Time to attach the GPS. Moving toward the rear of the Mercedes, he set the paper bag on the ground, took out the GPS transmitter, bent and stuck the device under the rear bumper, then checked to make sure it was securely in place. He stripped off the gloves and stuck them in the bag, took a last look at his handiwork and started to rise.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Adrenaline spiked through him as he spotted a big pair of shoes. Nudging the paper bag under the car, he rose to his feet. The parking lot security guard was tall and brawny. Suspicion darkened his features.
Beau flashed him a smile. “My girlfriend and I got into a fight. I needed some air, so I came out here. I wanted to cool off—you know what I mean?” He tipped his head toward the redbrick building with the white columns out front. “Unfortunately I can’t just leave her here so I’ve got to get back.” He started past the guard, but the man didn’t budge.
“Let me see some ID.”
His breathing went shallow. He could take the man down if he had to. With the mask still over his face, no way could the guard identify him. But it wouldn’t be easy and it could pose all kinds of problems he and Cassidy did not need.
“I don’t have my driver’s license on me,” he said. He glanced down. “Not much room in these breeches. My girlfriend has my wallet in her purse.” He managed to come up with a good-buddy grin. “That’s why I have to get back. She’s got my money too. Hopefully she’s over her tiff by now.”
The guard looked him over head to foot. The guy was three inches taller than Beau and probably seventy poundsheavier. Taking him down would be a definite challenge, but he wasn’t about to let the man call the police.
“What’d you do to piss her off?” the guard asked.
Beau shrugged. “She caught me looking at a little blonde with big tits. My girlfriend’s the jealous type, you know? She’s kind of insecure, doesn’t think her boobs are big enough.”That was a laugh. Cassidy had the perkiest, prettiest breasts he’d ever seen.
The guard didn’t relax. He tipped his head toward the Mercedes. “That your car?”
Beau’s body shifted into alert mode. “Nah. Too rich for my blood. I was just checking it out. Maybe one of these days I can afford something like that.”
The guard didn’t buy it—this was a very exclusive affair.
“My girlfriend’s got all the money,” Beau added. “Makes it easier to overlook her bad temper. Plus she’s good in bed.”
The guard laughed out loud. “Go on back,” he said, still chuckling. “Have a nice evening.”
“Thanks.” Beau waved over his shoulder as he walked away.
* * *
“Ms. Jones. It’s nice to see you again.” Malcolm Vaughn stood regally in front of the table, the perfect image of the emperor he was pretending to be.
“Mr. Vaughn. I’m . . . umm . . . a little surprised you recognized me.”What about Beau? Had Vaughn recognized him, too?Beneath her skirt, the little .380 felt comforting in the holster strapped to her thigh.
“Mal will do,” he said. “This is Ashley Stanfield. Her father is one of my clients. Ashley kindly agreed to accompany me tonight.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashley.”
“You as well.”
Vaughn glanced over Cassidy’s head, searching theroom. “This is a couples event. I can’t imagine you’re here by yourself. Should I assume you’re here with Beau?”
She had to brazen it out, pray Beau would wait and not come looking for her before she could manage to make her escape. “That’s right. He’s quite a philanthropist. Beau especially loves giving to charities that help children.” Which according to the information she had dug up on him, was actually true.
“So where is he? It’s rude to leave a lovely young woman alone for so long.”
“He was . . . umm . . . feeling a little unwell. He went to the men’s room. I’m sure he’ll be back in a few more minutes.”
“Would you like another glass of champagne? That one looks a little flat.” His expression said he knew she hadn’t been drinking it. She didn’t want him speculating on why they had come.
She took a sip. “No, it’s fine.” She turned to Mal’s date, who was about her same age, a good deal younger than Vaughn. “I like your costumes,” she said. “A Roman emperor and his lady. I bet Mal selected the outfits.”
