She grimaced. “I hesitate to ask.”
Trevor gave her a smile as he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and came out with two very fancy-looking pens. She watched curiously as he turned toward the wall so the security cameras couldn’t see what he was doing, and started taking the pens apart. One held a tiny vial…like one of those tubes that sample perfumes came in. The other contained a tiny piece of plastic, not much bigger than the eraser on a pencil.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing too extreme. Which, I admit, is rather disappointing for me.” He motioned off to the left with his chin. “The restrooms are down a hallway over in that direction. At the end of that corridor is an emergency exit. As you can imagine in a place like this, the hallway is covered by cameras, and the door is heavily alarmed.”
He held up the small piece of plastic. “Step one of the plan involves me planting this device in the hallway. When I activate it, it will momentarily pause the cameras and trip a piece of software code in the security system that will disengage the door lock and alarm. Once I activate the device, it should give us about thirty seconds to get Shishani out the door and into the alley out back.”
“Nice toy,” she murmured, looking at the tiny device. “But I have a question. How are we going to get Shishani into that hallway so we can get him out the door?”
Trevor held up the small glass vial. “That’s where this—and you—come in.”
“You want me to drug him?” she asked in confusion. “Don’t you think security will get suspicious when Shishani starts stumbling around as we lead him toward the restroom?”
Trevor chuckled. “It’s not that kind of drug. It’s a powerful diuretic designed to make him have to go to the bathroom really badly—as in really, really badly. We simply need to follow him casually down the hall when that happens and take him right out the back.”
“Not a bad plan. You need me to slip the drug into his drink?”
Trevor shook his head. “I can do that. I need you to distract him—and anyone else who might be looking our way—long enough to let me do it.”
She looked doubtful. “What if I can’t distract him, or anyone else, long enough for you to slip it in his drink?”
Trevor arched a brow as he slowly scanned her up and down. “Something tells me that’s not going to be an issue. If anything, you’ll have so many guys after you, we’ll never make it to the back hallway without a bunch of them following you like lovesick puppies.”
She laughed. “You’re really good for a girl’s ego, you know that?”
“Just one of the many services I provide.” He flashed her a grin. “You ready to go work your way close to him at the craps table while I slip off to the bathroom and plant this device? It will be easier for you to get close to him if I’m not with you at first.”
“Okay,” she said. Giving him a smile, she flipped her long, red-gold hair over her shoulder and headed for the table and the man who had almost certainly made the bomb that had killed John.
Trevor followed, then turned toward the back of the club and the security bug he needed to set up. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could get back here and keep an eye on Alina, because suddenly, the idea of leaving her alone anywhere near Shishani didn’t sit well with him.
Chapter 7
Trevor couldn’t believe Alina had been concerned she wouldn’t be able to distract Shishani—and most of the other men around the craps table. All she had to do was smile and laugh at Trevor’s quips, and she had almost every person around looking her way. When Alina turned and asked the table in general why a certain bet had been made, it was insanely simple to step closer to Shishani and slip the drug in his drink.
From that point forward, it was simply a waiting game, though he had to admit he didn’t like the way their suspect kept leaning over to try and engage Alina in conversation. Yeah, she wasn’t really his wife, but Trevor still had a nearly uncontrollable urge to rip the man to shreds. And no, it had nothing to do with being this close to one of the men responsible for John’s death.
He took an almost perverse pleasure in watching Shishani squirm when the drug started kicking in. A minute later, the man excused himself from the table and made a beeline for the bathroom. Alina gave Trevor a questioning look, but he shook his head. Let the guy do his business first. They’d grab him as he was coming out of the bathroom.
Trevor purposely made a lousy bet, then announced he was going to try his hand at roulette, grabbed Alina’s hand, and headed for the nearest table. Halfway there, he veered toward the back of the club instead.
Trevor activated the bug the moment he and Alina stepped into the hallway, and Shishani stepped out of the men’s restroom. Fortunately, there was no one else in the corridor or anywhere nearby, which would make this a whole lot easier.
The man’s eyes lit up when he saw Alina, but then his expression changed to one of confusion when he saw Trevor, too. The crazy urge to renovate the man’s face reared its ugly head, and it was all Trevor could do not to snarl.
Keeping his inner coyote in check, Trevor walked straight up to the bomber and wrapped his hand around the back of the man’s neck, slinging Shishani face-first into the opposite wall. It wasn’t hard enough to knock the guy out, but it was enough to knock a dent in the sheetrock and send Shishani bouncing backward like a pinball. Alina had the door open by the time Trevor grabbed his arm and shoved him out into the night.
The alley behind the building butted up against a high fence that separated this part of Worchester Street from the train tracks. It was pitch-black and reeked of spoiled food, spilled beer, and nasty Dumpsters. One end of the alley led toward the parking lot, while the other meandered through trash and other junk.
Trevor dragged Shishani a little farther down the alley so no one peeking out of the club would see them. Alina hung back and kept an eye on the door just in case.
He thumped Shishani up against the wall of the building, behind a tall Dumpster that smelled like it was used to store zombie bait for the coming apocalypse, and gave the man a shake.
“Wakey, wakey, Mr. Shishani,” he said. The guy might not be unconscious, but he was so woozy he might as well have been. “Time to talk about a bomb you recently made.”
The man’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Trevor in confusion for a moment. Then his eyes went wide.
