“You think?” he asked sarcastically.
“At least your positive outlook makes you original, compared to most of us.”
“True.”
“So, here’s what I need: Jeffrey Thomas’s autopsy reports.”
“Give me a few.”
Shield stared at her bottle of wine on the dresser as Reno clicked away. But instead of traveling back to Tuscany, her thoughts took her to Thomas. Was she already asleep? How long would she give Shield the silent treatment? She was just trying to keep Thomas safe and… “What the hell, Reno, did you just swallow a bird?” she asked when slurping sounds and a loud gulp interrupted her thoughts.
“It’s cola. Need the caffeine. And yes, I’ve been told that, too, bothers people.”
“Let me guess.”
“Yeah. Same duo.”
“Now officially a trio.”
“But it makes me original, right?”
“Wrong.”
“So, anyway…turns out no autopsy was done on Thomas. He was a longtime heart patient and they didn’t find it necessary to perform one.”
“I see.”
“Anything you want to share?” he asked.
“Like I’ve said, I don’t trust Moore.”
“You think he was involved in Jeffrey Thomas’s death?”
“Tell Pierce I’m taking some time off tomorrow,” she said. “The president doesn’t have anything scheduled but meetings within the House. She should be fine for a few hours with the regular guards.”
“What are you up to, and can I help?” Reno sounded eager, like he always did when a conspiracy was involved.
“I’m going to visit a certain country club. I’ll let you know if I need your expertise.”
“Cool.”
“Thanks, Reno.”
“Finally a thank you,” he shouted. “Is it so hard for some to acknowledge I’m a human being and not an android?”
“Good night,” Shield said. Poor guy’s cracked. He really needs a vacation before he breaks and even the company shrink won’t be able to glue him back together.
Chapter Twenty
Outside Houston, Texas
Next morning, March 4
Jack’s bladder hurt so much she bent over in pain. She’d be damned if she’d give TQ the satisfaction, but she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to master her bodily functions. She was cold, her head hurt from the bright light, and although she was parched, any liquid intake would only worsen her situation.
“Hello, Jack.” TQ’s voice filled the room.
“What time is it?”
“If I wanted you to know, I would have greeted you accordingly.”
“I’m gonna say it’s morning.”
“Maybe,” TQ said teasingly. “Then again, maybe not. So, how is life in a box treating you?”
“Nice and quiet in here, and I love what you’ve done with it.” Jack looked around.
“Thank you.”
“You said you were going to let me hear Cass was all right.”
It was quiet for a while, then TQ’s voice came back. “I keep my promises.”
The door opened and the same small-framed person she’d seen in the warehouse came in and approached her. She could tell now it was a man. He placed an iPad in front of her and pressed Play. The camera was zoomed on Cass during rehearsals, and the date stamp on the video was, from what Jack calculated, that morning. She would have doubted the date, knowing it could be manufactured, but the conductor spoke and announced that opening night was tomorrow. Jack sighed in relief.
The little man turned off the iPad and left without a word.
“Like I said, I keep my promises,” the bitch’s disembodied voice said.
“You mean you like to know you have something to blackmail me with.”
“That, too. How is your vision, Jack?”
“A bit blurry.” In reality, the lights, in combination with her migraine, had almost rendered her blind. Shutting her eyes didn’t help because the light penetrated her lids.
“Your eyes seem quite red—irritated, if you will. Most would be practically blind by now.”
“I’m special that way.”
“Pride is a dangerous quality.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m all about danger,” she said flippantly. If that crazy bitch was convinced she was still a killer, she’d do her best to keep her believing that. She’d let her think she was the Queen of England if that meant keeping Cass safe and getting her blind ass out of here.
“I like your perseverance, Jack. It shows character. The kind most don’t have, or fake.”
“Well, I have it, and sure as hell don’t need to fake it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you doubt me?”
“You haven’t soiled yourself, and you must be in dire need of water by now,” TQ said, “yet you haven’t given in to either need.”
“Can’t do much about water.”
“You can ask.”
“I was told to wait until it was brought to me.”
“You could have asked, anyway.”
“I don’t beg.”
“Not even if that meant saving Ms. Monroe’s life?”
“Then I’d beg,” Jack replied.
“So you see—”
“I wonder what it’s like to be so lonely, so alone, you have nothing and no one you love enough to beg for their safety. And no one in the whole wide world who loves or cares about you to do the same. Can you imagine how sad and empty life must…” Jack paused. “Oh. Oops, I’m sorry. I just described your life.”
“No need to apologize. My life is exactly the way I want it. Yours, on the other hand…”
“Mine, on the other hand, is the life of a paid killer. Don’t think for a moment I’ve deluded myself into thinking I’m worthy of anyone’s love or a normal life. I go through the moves and hope Cass doesn’t see me for what I really am.”
“No redemption in love, Jack?”
“Hardly,” Jack lied.
“Why not?” TQ almost purred.
“Because for the right price, I’d still take whoever out.”
“But you said you don’t do that anymore.”
“It’s easy to make proclamations when there are no temptations.”
“Are you claiming you’ve still got it?” the ice bitch asked. “That you’re capable of killing?”
Jack lifted her half-opened eyes to the camera. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” TQ stopped talking, and Jack was too exhausted to pursue any further conversation.
She had dozed off when she heard a clamor of scuffling just outside. The door opened, and two men dragged someone in. Jack blinked several times to clear her eyesight. The man in their custody struggled to break free but was pinned facedown on the floor next to her.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“A little gift to feed your appetite,” TQ’s voice answered over the loudspeaker.
Jack looked back at the man on the floor and did her best to focus her vision. He was naked except for his boxers, balding and middle-aged, with thick glasses and a familiar tattoo on his thigh. Leaning forward as far as her restraints would allow, Jack squinted to be sure she was seeing right and made out the image of a baby rattle and the initials BJC.
TQ’s two henchmen let go of the guy. One of them uncuffed her from the chair, and then both left the room.
The bald guy rolled over onto his back and then sat up, obviously too terrified to move any further. He trembled as he looked around the room.
Jack pushed off the arms of the chair and got up, but her legs were too numb to hold her weight so she sat back down and stomped them to restore circulation. “What’s he doing here?” she asked as a painful tingling returned to her limbs.
“Go to the door and slide the meal slot.”