“Scrubs, Soup. Acknowledge, over,” she heard Lachlan “Soup” Campbell call her by her brand new nickname over the comm.
“Scrubs, Roger, Soup,” she breathed, knowing she’d botched the prowords.Fuck it. “I hear you loud and clear, over.”
“Acknowledged, over.”
She listened to everyone else verifying that their comms worked as she walked beside Gina and Charlie up to the front doors.
Before Wren could ring the bell, one of the doors opened and Weisser popped out like a demented Jack-in-the-box. One doused in heavy cologne.
This is it. Either he’ll fall for Gina’s disguise or we’re DOA.
Wren held her breath as Weisser’s gaze skipped over her like a rock skipping over a pond and landed squarely on Gina. He gave her body the same quick appraisal he’d given Wren when she’d first walked into his office.
Come on. It’s Barbie, it’s Barbie, it’s Barbie, you gullible ass.
Then he smiled so broadly every single one of his teeth went on display as he laughed through them. His lips, his mouth, didn’t move, and his laughter was a staccato series ofha-ha-ha-ha-ha’s.
Asshole’s got a laugh like the world’s creepiest uncle.
“Ladies! Lovely, lovely. Welcome. Come inside. The bottle of Cristal champagne is at the perfect temperature.”
Wow. Feels like he hired us for the night. Oh, wait, hedidhire Barbie for the night.
Weisser frowned at Charlie, then looked past her at the SUV still sitting in his driveway. He shot Wren a murderous look and she could practically read his thoughts—I said, bring Barbie Gillisalone.
Gina touched his arm, immediately reclaiming his full attention. “Oh, don’t worry about them, Don,” she said in her raspy-Barbie voice. “Charlie, I told you, inthisneighborhood, we’ll be fine. Honestly. Just go wait in the car with the driver, please.”
Charlie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned without another word and walked back to the SUV.
Gina smirked. “There. They know I might bring them a doggie bag if they behave.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Gah! Abort mission! His laugh is killing me!
Unless his cologne gets me first. Gag.Just under the cologne, she could smell the bourbon on Weisser’s breath. She hoped he’d had two big belts of it right before they showed up. That would help.
Wren stepped inside first, followed by Gina, Weisser’s hand gripping her upper arm.
“What’s wrong with your voice?” he asked, stopping Wren’s heart in the process.
Gina cleared her throat but continued the rasp. “Oh, you know. I pick up some sort of airport crud every time I travel. I’mfinethough, Donny! Can I call you Donny? I can’t wait for that champagne.”
“I know just what you mean.” Weisser closed the door, cutting Wren and Gina off from the rest of the team. Wren’s heartbeat, already clipping along at a fast pace, decided it was competing in a sprint.
“Follow me, ladies. It’s a beautiful night, so I thought we’d sit out on the back patio.”
Weisser looked to be a trophy hunter, judging by the inordinate number of antlered elks, bucks, and big game heads mounted on the great room’s walls and the—yikes!—lion-skin rug in front of the fireplace. Wren recalled her comment to Elias the day before.
I wonder where he’s hiding all the dead baby ducks he killed to spend the evening with Barbie.
The aroma of meat cooking on a grill wafted in through the open doors leading out to the backyard.
Oh, maybe that’s what’s for dinner.
“What a beautiful home!” Gina gushed. “Who is your decorator?”
“Just me, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
