Page 23 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Sixteen

Jesse shifted in the chair at a cheap Newark, New Jersey, hotel, attention on the laptop monitor sitting on the table in front of her. The progress bar that moved across the screen indicated the funds from the Indian Ocean account she’d created were being transferred into another account which would disappear once the two hundred thousand from the Cayman account Lanton setup as her blood money moved into yet a third account.

The hope that she hadn’t miscalculated came too late. If OIA traced the money to her, it wouldn’t matter that the money’s final destination was the Philips and Rothman fund, a nonprofit organization that housed autistic kids with families without the money to care for them. OIA would proclaim her guilty of selling out Green Team, and Lanton would be given carte blanche to hunt and kill her.

Her stomach did a flip. The hundred thousand Lanton paid Cole was piggy backing on the two hundred grand. Twenty-four hours from now, the money would have funneled through eleven other accounts before falling off the face of the earth to find its way into Philips and Rothman. The idea to filch his payoff was the driving force that had goaded her into snagging the two hundred grand as well. Which only proved that, despite the fact he was Lanton’s boy, just thinking about him muddied the waters—and made her want to bawl like a baby.

She rubbed her sore eyes. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting from Westchester to Newark had taken her well into the afternoon. Setting up the money route had put her deep into the night. All she wanted now was a hot bath and a few hours—The Professor’s cell phone rang.

Jesse jerked her attention onto the phone sitting on the table beside the computer. The display read Cole Smith. Her pulse skipped a beat. Smith? His name was Smith? Jesse wanted to laugh. Hell. Mr. Smith had traced the bank transaction and, instead of bursting in, guns blazing, had called first—on a phone no one but she and The Professor knew existed. What would Emma Peel do? Be civilized, of course.

Jesse picked up the phone. “Hello, Cole.”

“Hi, Jess.”

She closed the laptop display as the hotel room door opened and Cole filled the doorway. He met her gaze, cell phone to his ear, then lowered the phone and closed it with a click. His other hand gripped a plastic drugstore bag.

“Like a bad penny,” she commented. Though she could deal with a little bad luck when it arrived in tight jeans and a midnight blue, long sleeve, button down shirt.

He offered a lopsided grin that sent a flutter skittering across the inside of her stomach. He stepped into the room and she flicked a glance past him at the empty parking lot before he closed the door.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“I’m too tired to kick your ass,” Jesse said, and meant it. “How did you get my cell number?”

“I called Tom.”

“Tom?” she blurted.

Cole cut her off. “You weren’t compromised. He set up a blind relay to forward my call to your phone.”

Jesse’s mind raced. Why had Tom admitted to being in contact with her? Maybe he hadn’t. Lanton would love for her to believe she couldn't trust The Professor.

Jesse closed the phone and set it on the table. “Come on in," she said, "join the party.”

Cole ran his gaze down her body. She felt a stab of disappointment when he said, “You need to change the dressing.”

She sighed and glanced at her pant leg. Blood had seeped through her chinos in spots resembling splashed coffee stains. She had dressed the wound once in the ladies restroom at Penn Station, but it still ached. Cole was right, it needed attention, but she said, “It’s nothing.”

“Take off your pants and get on the bed.”

Jesse blinked, then laughed—hard.

Cole looked hurt. “You need the bandage changed.”

She hiccupped, tried to get out a word, but battled another fit of laughter before she managed, “This is too good.”

“I’m serious,” he said.

“I know.” She snorted a laugh. “That’s what makes it so funny.” Jesse motioned to the bag he carried, and said, “Even brought your own supplies, I see,” before howling again with laughter.

Cole crossed his arms over his chest and the bag bounced off his waist. He gave her a stern look, and Jesse made a valiant effort to push back her amusement. She felt her lip twitch, and he lifted both brows.

“Come on,” she said. “You have to admit you have nerve coming here like Mother Teresa.”

“No more nerve than you do, stealing money that isn’t yours.”

All amusement vanished. “Don’t like having your hard earned blood money stolen?”

Cole strode to the bed and sat on the edge nearest her. He dumped the contents of the bag onto the bedspread, then leveled his gaze on her. “You want to hear why I let you take the hundred thousand?”

Jesse blinked, then laughed again.

She quit laughing when Cole slid from the bed onto his knees and reached for the buttons on her Chinos.