He leaned closer. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, Mrs. Patterson.” As a false name, it was a good one.
“You, as well, Mr. Contingent.” She shook his hand and tried not to throw up. He stood to a good six feet, had broad shoulders, reddish-brown hair, and a matching beard. His green eyes sparkled in his ruddy face. He shouldn’t be somebody who had sparkling eyes. She removed her hand from his larger one as quickly as possible.
“Call me George, as I hope this is the beginning of a profitable relationship for us both.” His gaze wandered down to her breasts and then back up to her face, lingering for a bit on her lips.
Her fake smile made her jaw ache. “How kind of you. I’m Leah.” She suddenly wished she hadn’t decided to use her real first name again.
“Do you have the money?” He lost his leering gaze.
“I do.” She removed her phone from her clutch, leaving the recording pen safely in place.
He unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to her.
She read the numbers and keyed the bank account number into her phone, effectively transferring the required five million dollars into the account. Unfortunately, the fake funds would disappear in about four hours. Her computer squad was the best in the world, but even they couldn’t keep fake numbers in place for longer than that. If George discovered the fraud, he’d move the children at the very least. She didn’t want to think about what he’d do at his very worst.
He straightened his brown suit that even included a vest. His tie was cherry red. Her dislike for him defied imagination.
“Where’s the product?” she asked, trying to force her voice to sound bored.
He took out his phone and stared at the screen. “The money’s been transferred.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said curtly. “We’re here to do business, right?”
“Of course, and everything you ordered is in a safe location. The address will be sent to you one hour after the charity auction—after I’m clear and gone.”
So he didn’t trust others any better than she did. “That was not the agreement. I transferred the money. Now, you give me the address.”
He chuckled and reached out to touch her face.
She leaned away, tempted to give George a horrible rash, maybe one so bad it’d kill him. Unfortunately, she’d end up with the rash as well. “No touching, George. Not until you prove you’re an honorable businessman.”
The idea of honor being anywhere near this guy was a freaking joke.
His hand dropped. “Very well. This is our first deal together, and I’m always careful, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll send you the location tonight.”
With the fake pen recording in her purse, she needed more than coded statements from him. “How do I know you acquired what I requested? One of my clients was adamant about the four-year-old twins.” She tried to keep her gaze steady, but the thought of the monsters in the world made her want to punch him in the face and keep punching until he stopped breathing.
“Twin statues are one of my specialties for your art collector,” he said smoothly.
He was better at this than she was. But she’d lived a lot longer. Should she take him out back and beat the truth out of him?
She lifted one eyebrow. “Do you have more, ah, product than this?” There couldn’t be more kids out there under his control, could there?
He puffed out his chest. “I do back in the States. One hundred thousand children have gone missing from the southern border of the good ole USA. You have no idea how easy it is to find them if you want.”
Bile rose from her stomach, and she forced it down. Even so, her heart rate picked up. He’d mentionedchildreninstead of using code. That was good. But in order to give the authorities enough evidence, she needed more from him. “One hundred thousand? Baloney. There’s no way to lose that many children.”
“Oh, they’re lost. Came across the southern border and were sent anywhere that would take kids. I have several organizations that were more than happy to accept those children from the government.” His smile showed a crooked bottom tooth she’d love to knock right out of his mouth.
“I have several clients interested in younger kids,” she said, her voice going husky as she tried not to scream at him.
“You’re from the States, aren’t you?” he asked.
She nodded. Years ago, she’d been from Great Britain, but she’d lived in the United States for long enough that her accent was no longer discernible. She needed him to say more than what he had so far. Maybe. “I am planning to return home in just a few days.”
“Then let’s do business once you’re back across the pond. You have my number.” He leaned closer, clogging her senses with his heavy floral cologne. “I’m free tonight after this silly auction if you are.” He licked his lips, staring at the spaghetti strap over her right shoulder. “Maybe we should get together for a nightcap. After you visit the warehouse, of course.”
Gross. So the kids were in a warehouse. That didn’t narrow down the search much. “I have plans tonight but would love to meet up. I have business in New York for the next month. How about you?”
