“Interestingly enough, the bushes all around your side of the building are suddenly flowering with bright orange blossoms,” Sam drawled.
Was Dessie getting stronger, or had she always had this gift? He’d asked her about it before, and she’d just said she had a green thumb. Considering she’d lived for so long on that island, perhaps she didn’t even understand the gift. “Keep an eye out, Sam. We have no clue what we’re walking into here,” he warned.
“Heads up,” Sam said. “Champagne-colored SUV dipping over the potholes and coming to a stop in front of room seventeen.”
Garrett had chosen the room because it was at the end farthest from the office. There were no cars parked near, and his was partially hidden in the nearby trees. He jerked his head toward Dessie. “Out of sight.”
She moved back, and Logan partially shut the door.
Sam cleared his throat. “I have a scope on a fifty-something female exiting the vehicle. Visual confirmation that it’s Cecile Applegate, based on her driver’s license. No visible weapons, but she has a handbag that could hold several guns.”
Garrett didn’t care about guns. He did care about the silver knife that could separate his head from his body.
A sharp knock sounded at the door. He opened it and looked down at Dessie’s aunt. The woman was fifty-one but appeared to be in her early sixties; he guessed booze and cigarettes were to blame. Her blue eyes were bloodshot, her thick hair a bottle red, and her body wiry in designer clothes. Without saying a word, he moved to the side and gestured her in.
She faltered and then strode inside, her head high.
“Sit.” He pointed to one of two wooden chairs placed with a dusty square table by the door. He didn’t want her going past the television set and seeing the partly opened door to the other room.
She clutched her gold-colored bag to her hip and edged around the table, careful not to get her pink linen pants dirty. She wore a matching blazer, a white shell, and enough gold and diamond jewelry to show she was a complete idiot. It was amazing she hadn’t been robbed strutting from her car to the room. “Why did we have to meet here?”
He kicked the door shut, enjoying the way she jumped. “Are you wired?”
“No.” She frowned plucked eyebrows and held her purse even closer. “Are you?”
“No.” He discreetly pocketed a scanner invented by his cousin and pointed it at her. “Do you have the money?” A quick check confirmed that she wasn’t wired.
She gulped. “I have half of the money.” Her chin was weak, and it shook. It was shocking that she was any sort of blood relation to the woman in the other room. “You get half now and half after…”
“After what?” He remained standing and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black cargo pants just so he wouldn’t grab her.
She visibly steeled herself and met his gaze. “You know what. We discussed it on the phone.”
All right. He was going to make her say it before he considered his next move. “Lady, I’m not playing games. You spell it out for me, or I’m gone.” He let the killer inside himself show, although even at his mellowest, he most likely looked like a murderer to her.
She reared up without moving from the chair. “Fine. I want you to take out my niece, Destiny Applegate. She was released from college and is traipsing across the States. Her last known location was California near Tahoe.”
“Take out?” he asked, his blood starting to heat. “That’s a nice euphemism. Do you care how I do it?”
She opened her purse. “Not really. Well, I take that back. If you could make it look like an accident, that would be best. I don’t want any questions.”
Of course not. Questions would be bad. What a useless bitch. “An accident costs more.”
She lifted an envelope out of her bag. “No more. I have fifty thousand now and will get you the rest after her funeral.” She smiled big, and her eyes looked squinty. “I plan to give her a lovely one. If I recall, she’s a pretty girl. Please don’t mess up her face. People are so much more sympathetic when beauty dies, don’t you think?”
A low growl rumbled up from his gut, and he swallowed it ruthlessly. This woman was a cockroach, and he wanted to step on her. He’d been stupid to allow Dessie to temper his plans. He should’ve broken the aunt’s neck days ago and just moved on. “Why do you want your niece dead?”
She sniffed. “That’s none of your business.”
Dessie burst into the room. “It ismybusiness.”
* * * *
Dessie couldn’t believe this woman was her father’s sister. “Answer me.”
Garrett plucked the purse out of Cecile’s lap.
“Hey.” Cecile started to stand, took one look at Garrett’s face, and sank back into her chair. “That’s mine.”
