Takedown

CHAPTER 17

“Who the hell was that?” Cooper asked as Alex emerged from the cafe.

Deuce and Warlock were nowhere to be found.

“You heard all that, huh?”

He tapped his ear. “You’re on comm, remember? Who is he?”

“Believe it or not, he’s my real estate broker.”

“The guy who contacted you about the Key Largo house?”

She nodded.

“Jesus, Alex. Did we just get blown?”

“No. You heard everything. I think we’re okay. He didn’t say anything compromising.”

“I don’t care,” Cooper told her. “This is sloppy. What’s he doing here? Did he follow you?”

“Were you listening or not? He thought I was in Sweden. It’s a stupid coincidence.”

“And you’re sure he’s just your real estate broker? Because that isn’t what it sounded like.”

Alex frowned. “What difference does it make?”

“Because if this guy is gonna be following you around like a dog in heat—”

“He didn’t follow me.”

“So you say. But he didn’t sound like someone who’s all that anxious to go away, either. And that could be a problem, Alex. A big problem.”

“For the op?” she said. “Or for you?”

Cooper was silent. Which was where he always went when he got angry. She’d seen it a hundred times in Baghdad.

But she had to say it. His anger seemed more personal than usual.

“Look,” she told him, “everything’ll be fine, so let’s do what we came here to do, okay? Where’s Favreau?”

Cooper did not look happy. “Deuce, are you reading this?”

“Oh boy, am I,” Deuce said in their ears.

“What’s Favreau up to?”

“He’s on the beach, taking a smoke break. What do you want me to do?”

“Hang back and let me think about this.”

One of the elevator doors opened and Warlock stepped off and approached them. “Bloke went up to his room. He’s on the eighth floor.”

Alex realized he was talking about Gérard and glared at Cooper. “You had him followed?”

“Of course I did. It’s standard protocol.” He turned to Warlock. “You got any cigarettes on you?”

Warlock patted his jacket pocket. “Always. Why?”

“Give them to me.”

Warlock brought out a battered pack of Doinas and handed them to Cooper, who, in turn, offered them to Alex.

“Go down to the beach and ask him for a light,” he said.

“Won’t that be a little obvious?”

“We don’t have much choice, thanks to your real estate friend. Just put on the charm and believe me, he won’t care.”

“We’re talking about a guy who’s so paranoid he rigs his hotel room like it’s Fort Knox.”

“Trust me. If he thinks he’s got even a fifty-fifty chance of landing someone like you in the sack, all that paranoia goes right out the window.”

“At the risk of getting choked again,” Warlock said, taking a prudent step backward, “I have to agree.”

Alex shot him a look but said nothing.

“You’d better get down there before he leaves,” Cooper told her.

“Fine,” she said. She snatched the pack of cigarettes out of his hand and dropped them into the clutch purse she was carrying.

As she headed toward the rear exit, Warlock called out, “Don’t lose those. I’ll be wanting them back.”

She resisted the urge to show him her middle finger.

She found Frederic Favreau sitting on a retaining wall near a kayak stand that was closed for the night. After stopping several yards away, she took out the pack of Doinas, popped one into her mouth, then rooted around inside her clutch.

On the way down she had decided it would be best to use Gérard as a prop, as if his sudden appearance in her life had rattled her.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

She had passed his presence off to Cooper as a coincidence, but she wasn’t convinced of that herself, and wondered if Gérard really had followed her here. The question was why.

As she dug through her purse she could feel Favreau watching her again. After a moment, she cursed under her breath and looked up, pretending to notice him for the first time.

She took the cigarette from her mouth. “Oh. Hello again.”

“Hi, there.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a light, would you?”

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” he said with a grin. “It’s usually the other way around.”

She approached him. “I think I’m the one who’s being stalked. You saw what happened in the cafe, right?”

He took a lighter from his pocket and flicked it. “Hard not to. Old boyfriend?”

She leaned in and lit the cigarette. She’d never been a smoker, but figured she could tolerate a few puffs before she felt like puking.

“No,” she said, deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible. “Just somebody I met in Key Largo.” She took another puff and exhaled. “Men sometimes get attached to me. I’m not quite sure why.”

“Oh, I think you know.” He pocketed the lighter. “Before we were so rudely interrupted, I was about to tell you you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

She smiled. “I never know how to react to that.”

“But you’re used to hearing it, aren’t you?” He held out a hand. “I’m Frederic, by the way.”

She shook it. “Alexandra.”

“Nice. I like it. What did you end up ordering, Alexandra? At the cafe?”

“Nothing. I didn’t have an appetite after Thomas showed up.”

“That’s not right. You want me to talk to this guy? Tell him to back off?”

She laughed. “No, I appreciate it, but I’m sure he got the message.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Some guys have selective hearing when it comes to certain women. I could tune up his eardrums a little.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but no thanks.”

Favreau shrugged. “Just trying to help a damsel in distress. I thought I heard him say something about Sweden. Is that where you’re from? Because I would’ve pegged you as American. Although you look like you’ve got some Middle Eastern blood in you, too.”

“You’re very observant.”

“You’re very observable.”

She laughed again. He might not be the most attractive or subtle guy in the universe, but he definitely had game.

“Sweden was supposed to be my first gig,” she said. “But the girl assigned to St. Cajetan dropped out at the last minute, so here I am.”

“And here we are.” He took a last drag off his cigarette and flicked the butt into the sand. “And it kills me to say this, Alexandra, but it’s been a long day and I’m beat.”

He got to his feet.

“You’re leaving? I thought we might get a drink.”

“Trust me, I’m tempted, but it took me twenty-eight hours and three stops to get here this morning, and all I really want to do right now is sleep. Will you take a rain check?”

She hesitated. “…Of course.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “My offer still stands about the ex. Just let me know.” He grinned again. “You have a good night now.”

Alex watched him in a state of disbelief as he stepped past her and headed up the beach to the hotel.

When he was gone, she said into her comm mic, “Does somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?”