He looked a little surprised as well.
And then he held the folder out and let it drop onto the massage table between them.
She glanced down at it. It bore no external markings. “What is it?”
“Osborne’s file,” Adam said. “It was given to Jack.”
She looked up at him.
He shrugged. “Thought you might like a look at the man pulling all the strings.” His expression turned more meaningful and something nasty flashed in the depths of his eyes. “I’m not surprised that Jack hasn’t shown it to you, luv. He never was one for egalitarianism.”
Annabelle gazed warily at him for a moment. And then she swallowed again and decided to ask another question. “Is Simon all right?”
Adam wasn’t phased. “He’s alive, if that’s what you’re askin’, angel.”
And that was all she was going to get from him.
She looked back down at the folder. Ever so slowly, she reached up and opened it, allowing it to spread on the table between them. The first thing Annabelle noticed was the black and white photograph clipped to a bunch of print-outs beneath it.
It was a black man wearing dark glasses, dressed in an expensive suit.
“Oh my God,” she said, staring wide-eyed at the picture. “It’s Mackenzie.”
Chapter Forty
Adam said nothing. But when she looked back up at him, the expression he wore was one of such knowing, that Annabelle couldn’t help but put the puzzle pieces together.
“That’s where I’ve seen you before,” she muttered. “At Mackenzie’s office. When Max and I went to meet with him…” She shook her head, images spinning before her mind’s eye. She saw Mackenzie – Godrick Osborne – talking with Max, telling him that he wanted more done on the site, more pictures, more text, more everything. The job had gone on far longer than it should have, but the contract kept Max and Annabelle slaves to whatever Mackenzie wanted… Whatever Osborne wanted.
And what he’d wanted all along was Teresa’s laptop.
He’d been waiting for Max to find it. Or, maybe he was trying to get a lay of the land so that he could send someone in after it.
“Oh my God,” Annabelle repeated, at awe with the truth of the situation. She’d seen Adam, on the sidelines, while at the Mackenzie building. Now that she thought back, she recalled that their eyes met. For just an instant. “It wasn’t ‘the Mackenzie’ building at all. It was the lab…” The secret lab where Brandt’s cure had been created.
Annabelle hugged the blanket more tightly around her. Her arms were covered in goose bumps. “When I saw you,” she said, “were you there on your own, or had Osborne already hired you?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. It was all she could manage.
Adam’s ice blue eyes glittered in the firelight. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying the play of emotion that was crossing Annabelle’s delicate features.
“You were the only one who saw me that day, angel,” he told her. His own voice had dropped as well. “Osborne never knew I was there.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say.
Adam laughed. It was actually a very pleasant sound. She’d half expected anything Adam Night did to be maniacal – to remind her of the Joker or something. But Jack had understated much about Adam Night. Including how charming he was.
“You’d best get dressed, luv.” He moved so fast, she didn’t see it. But he pressed something underneath the massage table, and the entire thing collapsed in on itself, falling to the floor. Annabelle jumped as it hit, and Adam stepped over the table to close the distance between them.
She took several steps back. Again, he wasn’t phased. He just continued to smile and come forward, effectively backing her into the wall behind her.
“If you’re going to have any hope in Hell of stopping Osborne before he gets to Brandt, you’ll have to move now,” he told her as she hit the wall and stopped in her tracks, eyeing him apprehensively.
Annabelle blinked. Her pulse was racing once more. Her brow furrowed. He wanted her to go after Osborne? Her? “What?” She asked.
The manila folder was in Adam’s hand. He’d picked it up before he dropped the table. He held it out between them now, dangling it like a carrot before a hungry pony. “Take it, angel. Kill Osborne and you’ll be free of Jack’s hold.”
Annabelle glanced at the folder and then looked back up at Adam.
He went on. “What does he have over you now? Money? Protection?” He laughed then, and it was just as mirthless and empty as Jack’s laugh had been two days ago. “Fat lot of good it did you, eh, luv?” His smile disappeared as his ice blue gaze flicked across her face, to her lips, to the curve of her chin and collarbone and back up again. And then he grew serious. “You’ll never have freedom again, angel, to live your life, to do so much as step foot outside and get on a bike.” His smiled returned for just a moment. “Which I know you so love to do. Nah,” he continued. “He’ll always be there, lording over you.” He shook his head. “Unless…”
Annabelle gazed into Adam’s blue eyes and considered his words. The crazy as hell thing was, he was right. If she had her own money, her own way of hiring people to protect her, she would be able to leave Jack’s shelter. Especially if Osborne was dead. And, if she killed Osborne… It would take care of the proverbial two birds with one lead slug.
“Christ,” she said aloud, as she realized that it was a way out. It just wasn’t the one she’d been expecting.
She licked her lips, her gaze now having settled on the folder that Adam held. “Are you telling me that Godrick Osborne is now on his way to kill Craig Brandt?” She asked. Might as well get the facts straight.
“Aye, luv. That, he is.”
Annabelle took the folder. She straightened and squared her shoulders. “Where are they?”
Adam Night grinned.
Jack floored the gas pedal, deftly steering around cars and pedestrians as he made his way through the streets of London. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Alex gripped the oh-shit bar for all he was worth. He wasn’t sure that terrifying news could literally sober a person up when they were loaded, but he was willing to bet that, despite Thane’s penchant for hell bent driving maneuvers, he probably wasn’t feeling very inebriated at the moment. More like angry as hell.
And scared. Alex could feel waves of the strange emotion coming off of Thane. It wasn’t something he’d witnessed before. It was actually quite frightening, in and of itself.
Several more intense minutes passed and Jack pulled up in front of the apartment building. He threw open the door just as the doorman came forward to greet him. When the doorman saw the look on Jack’s face and the speed with which he was moving, he simply amended his actions to step to the side and let Jack by without pause.
Alex followed on his employer’s heels as they raced to the stairwell and began taking the stairs three at a time. It was a long climb up, but they managed it in short time, both barely breaking a sweat with the effort.
At the top, Jack inserted his key into the lock leading to his flat, and turned it. Two more doors and he was rushing into his foyer. And Simon Jeremiah was sitting against the wall, one leg bent, one straightened out in front of him. He had one hand pressed to his stomach and his other arm lay useless at his side.
Jack scanned the room with practiced eyes and then bent beside his employee. “What happened, Simon?”
Simon blinked up at Jack and licked his lips. His nose was bleeding, but there seemed to be no signs of struggle anywhere on his body.
“Night drugged us, sir. Then he killed Mrs. Albrecht and left with Miss Drake.”