“That’s good to hear. Very sensible. But I didn’t forget.” She extracted a grocery bag from her large purse.
Tory raised a finger. “I’ve got a few questions and a bit of paperwork, but do you mind if we make the omelet first? I’ve been up for a while but didn’t eat, lest I ruin my appetite.” He really was starving. Since he needed the questionnaire completed, he’d have her cook twice, once before and once after the paperwork. But that shouldn’t be a problem. She’d likely be flattered. The second time, while watching over her shoulder “to learn her special technique,” he’d stick the needle in her thigh.
“Sounds good to me. Cooking calms me, and to be honest, I’m a bit nervous.”
She put her personal omelet pan on the front right burner and lit the gas. “This pan’s made of five layers, stainless steel sandwiching aluminum sandwiching a copper core. That makes it tough but lightweight, easy to clean, and quick to warm, even on a low flame. And it spreads the heat evenly.”
She pulled a small bottle from her shopping bag. “Extra virgin olive oil with black truffles.” She poured a healthy portion into the pan. “My secret ingredient.”
“So much?”
“You’ll see.”
“I always use butter.”
“Butter’s fine, but this is fantastic. I’ll show you something in a second.”
She cracked three organic free-range eggs into a stainless steel bowl, ground in pink salt and black pepper, then began beating rapidly with a fork. So far, to Tory’s eye, she’d done nothing special. But he did like watching her work.
Satisfied with her mixture, Sandy set the eggs aside, ran her forefingers under water and flicked a drop into the pan. It crackled in protest. “Perfect. Now, look at this.” She took the omelet pan in her right hand, grabbed the bowl with her left and made room for Tory to watch. “The moment of magic.”
Tory stepped closer.
With a jerk fast enough to start a stubborn lawn mower, she brought the pan of crackling hot oil up into his face.
Tory’s world erupted in fire as his eyes flared with an excruciating pain more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. His hands flew to his face a second before his left ear exploded, turning everything mercifully black.
55
The Loneliest Place
LISA FELT THE TICKLE of an adrenaline drop hitting her bloodstream as Seven Star Island came into view. The physiological response reinforced what the back of her brain already knew. Coming here was not a safe move.
But she didn’t know what other move to make. She’d learned long ago that when every move was risky, the smart step was often bold.
Lisa had known in her gut that Pierce was not the killer. The two of them were fully aligned and completely committed to a codependent plan. They were excited about a future they could only achieve by working together.
Aria was an animal of a different stripe.
Under normal circumstances, or even less extreme abnormal circumstances, Lisa would have scoffed at the suggestion that Aria was capable of killing. Her sorority sister might be cutthroat in the business sense, but not in the literal one. At this point, however, Lisa was willing to consider all options and each candidate. Only four Immortals were left alive.
She jumped in her seat as the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, breaking her contemplative trance. “We’ve got a problem, Ms. Perera.” As he spoke, she felt the chartered helicopter pull up and back abruptly as if evading hostile fire.
Red dots of laser light began dancing around the cockpit as the pilot pulled higher. She traced them to the ground. Four men in body armor were braced in firing positions, assault weapons snugged to their shoulders.
The pilot came back on the intercom. “Obviously, I can’t land. Do you want me to take you to a neighboring island, or back to the mainland?”
“Just hold on a minute.”
Lisa pulled out her burner phone and hit a speed dial. As a security precaution, she had not alerted Aria of her impending arrival. On the off chance that Aria was the killer, Lisa hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity to set a trap, prepare a poison, or arrange a fall. “Aria, it’s Lisa. I’m in the helicopter. Just me and the charter pilot. We need to talk about what’s going on.” She had to speak up to be heard. Even executive helicopters were noisy.
“Oh, thank goodness. The alarm went off when radar detected your approach and I’ve been locked in the panic room ever since, wondering if today’s my day.”
“Will you tell your assault squad to stand down so I can land?”
“Of course. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Lisa hit the comm switch and informed the pilot of the situation and the gratuity that would be forthcoming. Sure enough, the red dots vanished and the welcome party stood down. Sixty seconds later, the pilot put skids on the ground.
Although they’d shouldered their assault rifles, the soldiers remained ready for action, with three standing back while one approached the craft. “It might be best if you remained aboard,” she said, straining to keep her voice steady.
The pilot surprised her. “Don’t worry about me. I know how to talk to these guys.”
After a thorough, unapologetic pat-down, two of the soldiers escorted Lisa to Aria’s master suite, one walking in front, the other walking behind. Aria opened the door as they drew near. It was thicker than a brick and seemed to swing open on its own power.
Drawing closer, Lisa noticed that the doorway resembled the entrance to a vault. Clearly Aria’s security upgrades extended well beyond the welcome wagon. Lisa took that as a reassuring sign. A killer might camouflage herself behind window dressing, but she’d be unlikely to go whole hog.
The lead guard stepped aside, letting Lisa pass while addressing Aria. “We’ll be right outside the door. When you’re ready, I’ll show Ms. Perera out.”
Lisa knew the last remark was for her. The guard wanted her to know that there would be no getaway if any harm befell their charge.
“Thank you, Barry.” Aria placed her palm on a wall switch and the door swung shut with a pneumatic hiss.
The Immortals kissed cheeks.
Lisa placed her hands lightly on Aria’s shoulders. “I’m impressed. And sorry for the unannounced arrival. I’m taking my own precautions. I’m sure you understand.”
The two alpha females did understand each other. Probably better than anyone else understood them. They had shared their formative years, and were now the planet’s only Immortal women.
Aria showed her to the sitting room, where herbal tea and fresh fruits were waiting. Another reminder of what they had in common.
“I was just in Whitefish, Montana,” Lisa said as an opener.
“Visiting Pierce? I’ve never been.”
“Me either. It was much more alluring than I’d expected. Made me think of what you’d get if the Four Seasons opened a hunting lodge.”
Aria poured the tea. “Were you discussing your political plans or our shared predicament?”
“Both, but the accent was on the latter. I’ve been trying to ignore the threat but have come to realize that I won’t be able to focus on my future until I know I have one. Since that won’t happen before the killer is unmasked and caught or killed, I figured it was time to get proactive.”
Aria handed Lisa a porcelain teacup on a silver saucer. “What did the two of you conclude? Who’s behind the mask?”
“Pierce floated the idea that we, he and I, had caused all this by inviting scrutiny.” Lisa explained Pierce’s train of logic. How their top political consultant might have alerted the political parties to the affluent newcomers, with the ultimate result that the president put the CIA on the case—bringing all their investigative and black bag capabilities to bear.