“Thank you for that clarification.” Myron nodded, glancing at the door in a silent signal that the other man could leave.
Jerric nodded abruptly before turning on his heel. The door closed quietly behind him.
MYRON TURNED TO RAYMOND, watching as the other man retook his seat and stared back at Myron coolly.
“Are we going to check out this attack?” Myron asked him.
“Of course we are.” Raymond lifted the remote on the side table, pressing a programming button as he pointed it toward the quiet noise of the television in the corner.
Instantly surveillance cameras flipped into view. Another button and the large screen was suddenly filled with a battle of knives between Bailey and a heavyset Colombian.
“Rodriquez,” Myron murmured as he watched the struggle. He frowned then. “How did he get on the property?”
“I was rather curious about this myself,” Raymond stated. “Did you sell out her identity?”
That was a strict no-no. Myron glanced at him in surprise. “Warbucks would kill me,” he murmured. “He’s been very particular about keeping her alive.”
“Considering he killed her parents, that’s rather a surprise.” Raymond glanced at the screen in boredom.
Yes, it was a surprise, Myron agreed silently. But Warbucks still had a bit of conditioning to acquire, as well as a bit of self-preservation. Bailey Serborne should have been killed years ago despite the financial toll that her death would have exacted. So her fortune went to charities rather than the four men who oversaw her business concerns? It wasn’t as though Warbucks needed the damned money.
Was it guilt? Myron wondered. No, Warbucks didn’t know guilt. It could be no more than greed, pure and simple.
But that greed was one of the reasons Myron enjoyed his job so much. Because he was greedy, too, and he received his cut in a timely, safe manner.
He took his chair to watch the fight as it played out. It would be interesting to see if John could reach her in time. Even more interesting would be learning exactly who betrayed her. Unfortunately, he might have a pretty good idea there—and it would be so simple to use it.
CHAPTER 19
SHE WASN’T GOING TO MAKE it.
Bailey felt the slice of Alberto’s knife across her upper arm, the fire-and-ice pain lancing through her body as she felt the blood gush from the wound.
Jumping back, she stumbled, slid on the slick layer of snow underneath as she felt Alberto’s foot land heavily on her rear, throwing her face-first on the ground.
Rolling, she tightened her grip on the knife and barely evaded a foot to her abdomen. Another quick succession of rolls gave her just enough room, just enough time to jump quickly to her feet and sprint out of the way of the knife heading for her stomach.
She was running out of energy. Even the adrenaline pumping through her veins wasn’t pouring enough strength into her smaller body to fight off the much bulkier, more muscular Alberto.
Panting for air as she held her knife ready, her body braced as he faced her across only a few feet of distance.
“Playing with you is fun.” He grinned. “Arousing.” His free hand dropped to his crotch, and he gripped it firmly. “Maybe I make you bleed some more, then fuck you as you bleed out.”
The idea was clearly an exciting one for him.
“Don’t make me puke on top of everything else, Al,” she sneered. “We both know you can’t handle the sight of it. You have a weak stomach.”
He shrugged, smiling again as he waved his knife in her direction.
“You, gringa, have been a worthy adversary,” he praised as he circled her like a hungry coyote. “The hunt has been a good one. Yes?”
“You cheated,” she told him, breathing hard, trying to find the energy that she knew she was going to need for the next attack he made.
“Cheated?” He glowered back at her in outrage. “How did I cheat? I found you. I gave you the chance to fight. You have failed.”
“You were hired to come after me, remember?” she mocked him. “You didn’t find me on your own, Alberto.”
“Eh, a minor thing.” He rotated his wrist, twirling the knife in her direction again. “Very minor. I will count it a victory anyway.”