From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

The
light from the camera blinded her, but she didn’t move.
 
She kept her dead face on in spite of
the relief and the confusion that now washed over her.
 
He didn’t shoot her.
 
He just said he loved her.
 
Now, what was she going to do?

When he
finished, he offered her his hand, she took it and stood in front of him.
 
He removed a handkerchief from his
jacket pocket, wiped her face clean and then dabbed the sauce from her head.
 

“Not the
best perfume you’ve worn,” he said.

“Are you
kidding?
 
It’s practically made for
men.”

He
kissed her on the forehead and then on the lips.
 
“I meant what I said.
 
I wasn’t joking.
 
I love you.”

She
didn’t know what to say to him.
 
Carmen never had been in a lasting relationship.
 
She wasn’t sure whether she’d ever been
in love.
 
Or if she was even capable
of love.
 
“Alex--”

“And I’m
glad that I said it.
 
I want out of
this life.
 
It’s time to start
over.
 
With you.
 
I think you feel the same.”

“I have
several jobs I’ve committed to after this one.
 
I’m sure you have the same.
 
You know that once we’ve accepted the
upfront money, the deal is sealed.
 
There’s no getting out of it.
 
You know the consequences if we even tried to get out of it.”

“Then we
do the jobs,” he said.
 
“We finish
what we’ve lined up, then we walk out of this life.
 
Together.”

It was
too much.
 
She hadn’t been expecting
any of this.
 
She needed time alone
to think and to process it.
 
Walking
out of anything that yielding her tens of millions of dollars each year when
she was in her prime was something she wasn’t going to do lightly.

Focus
.

“You’ve
got to send them a photo,” she said.
 
“It’s past nine.
 
We’ll talk
about the rest of this later.”
 

His
camera was wireless and had a simple email function that could jettison any
photo he chose to anyone he wished.
 
They went through the photos and chose the best one.

“So,
that’s what I’ll look like if someone guns me down?” Carmen said.
 
“Not my best look.”

“But
that’s how it
will
look,” he said.
 
“Do you want that?
 
We can
get out of this, Carmen.
 
We can
live a normal life together.”

She
ignored him, though she’d be lying if she said the photo didn’t have an effect
on her.
 
“We need to buy some
time.
 
Are you able to include any
text with the photo?”

He
nodded.

“Write
this,” she said.
 
“‘She’s dead, but
it didn’t go as planned.
 
She shot
me in the arm.
 
I can’t go to a
hospital because when they see why I’m there, they’re required to call the
police.
 
I need to get to a pharmacy
and then to a hotel room to take out the bullet myself.
 
I won’t be able to catch the plane, but
I’ll be in touch.
 
Send an email
when the money’s in my account.’”

He
finished typing.
 
“That it?”

“That’s
it.”

He hit
the send button.
 
“Now what?”

“Now we
go after Jean-Georges.
 
We take him
out, which will send a message to the rest of the group.
 
If anyone is their unofficial leader,
it’s him.
 
If we manage to kill him,
we tell them why we did it.
 
We know
they want us dead.
 
We tell them to
stand down or they’ll be joining Jean-Georges in hell.”

“Which
is exactly where he’ll end up.”

“The
man’s a monster,” she said.
 
“I’ve
declined four jobs from him because he wanted me to cross a line.
 
I’m no angel, but I don’t kill children.
 
Ever.
 
There were times he wanted me to knock
off some business associate’s kid, but I refused.
 
What’s worse is how he wanted me to kill
them.
 
It was sick.
 
The man’s a pervert.
 
I have zero problem seeing him dead.”

“You
know the moment his associates hear about this, they’ll hire someone else to
kill us.”

“Not if
we blackmail them.
 
That’s what
they’re afraid of.
 
That’s why we’re
in this situation now.
 
They’re
worried that we know too much.
 
They
think we’ll bilk them for money or send what we know to the press.
 
The problem is time.
 
We need to kill Jean-Georges
tonight.
 
There’s no time to
wait.
 
If we wait for the ‘right’
moment, we’ll be dead.
 
So we act
now.
 
We send a photo of his dead
body to the group and warn them that if they come after us, we send everything
we know about them to the press and to the police.”

“Then we
leave.”

“That’s
right.
 
Just before boarding our
flight, we send the picture and the threat from the airport.
 
I have a place in Bora Bora that nobody
knows about.
 
We go there and lie
low.”

“For how
long?”

“Until
we have to leave for any outstanding commitments.”

“My next
one is in five weeks.”

“Mine is
in seven.”

“So,
we’ll have five weeks together.”

“Think
you can handle it?”

“That’s
not the question.”

“What
is?”

“Whether
you can, Carmen.”

CHAPTER SIX

“You
need to call Jean-Georges,” she said.
 
“Tell him that you’ve emailed the photo and that you were shot.
 
You’ve got tracking on your phone.
 
Use the GPS to find out where he
is.
 
Make it quick.
 
Tell him you’re bleeding and can’t
talk.”

He
plucked the phone from his inside blazer pocket and Carmen saw the butt of his
gun.
 
She figured it was there.
 
To make sure she remained quiet, he held
up his hand while he dialed.
 

Jean-Georges,
whose full name was Jean-Georges Laurent, was part of a powerful business
syndicate that had corporations and enemies all over the world.
 
They were in bed with governments and
with corporate leaders.
 
For years,
it had been Alex and Carmen who took care of the enemies, but that obviously no
longer was the case.

The man
answered on the third ring.
 
Alex
said what she told him to say while the GPS got a hook on his location.
 
“Did you hear me?” Alex said.
 
“She shot me.
 
I’m in no shape to fly.
 
I’ll catch the flight tomorrow or the
next day.
 
Now, I need to get to a
pharmacy and find something to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding.
 
I’ll be looking for the money in my
account tomorrow morning.
 
I’ll talk
to you later.”
 

He
turned off the phone and looked at Carmen.
 
“He’s out,” he said.
 
“There
was an orchestra.
 
It sounded like a
crowd.
 
People talking over each
other.
 
Light laughter.”

“Let me
see your GPS.”

Alex
pointed to the blinking dot.
 
“He’s
at Ninety-Nine East Fifty-Second Street.”

“Do a
search for it.”

He
pressed a button.
 
“Four Seasons.”

“If
there’s an orchestra, it’s a private event.”
 
She looked at her watch.
 
“It’s still early.
 
Depending on the event, he could be
there for another few hours.
 
I have
a contact who can get us in, assuming she’s not there herself.”

“Who’s
that?”

“Mamie
van Marais.”

“Didn’t
you take out her husband?”

“Two
years ago.
 
Now Mamie wipes her ass
with his money.
 
She owes me and she
knows it.
 
If anyone can get us
inside, she can.”

She
pulled out her own phone, found van Marais’ number and dialed it.
 
When the line was answered, Carmen said,
“I need to speak to Ms. van Marais.”

“Who
shall I say is calling?”

“Tell
her it’s Carmen.”

Carmen
waited less than a minute before Mamie van Marais picked up the phone.
 
“I asked you never to call me here.”

“You
wouldn’t have a ‘here’ if it wasn’t for me, Mamie.
 
This is important.
 
I’m calling in a favor.”

“Carmen,
I don’t know how I possibly could do you a favor.
 
We both know how resourceful you are.”

“And
you’re one of my resources.
 
Tonight, something is happening at the Four Seasons.
 
I need to get inside.”

“I know
what’s happening.
 
That horrible Tootie
Staunton-Miller is throwing a party there tonight with her gay husband,
Addy.
 
They just completed the
restoration on their home on Fifth and although I can’t stand her, I have go
give it to her.
 
She did it
right.
 
That house is back to what
it once was--the grand dame of Fifth Avenue.
 
Fifty rooms!
 
Tootie and Addy have been staying in the
Royal Suite at the Waldorf Towers for
years
while waiting for the
restoration to be complete and now it is.
 
It has one of the only private indoor swimming pools in New York.
 
Tootie likes to say that to anyone who
will listen.
 
In fact, some are
saying she says it too often.”

“So, why
are they at The Four Seasons?
 
Shouldn’t they be celebrating at their new home?”

“Never,”
Mamie said.
 
“Only select people
will ever be invited to the home itself.
 
I heard that Tootie had massive photographs installed in the Pool Room
at the Four Seasons to give people an idea of how the restoration turned out,
but only the best of the very best will ever actually see the house in person.
 
It’s all about positioning, dear.
 
Her popularity will skyrocket thanks to
that house.
 
Everyone but the real
money will want to say they’ve been invited there.
 
I can hear them now.
 
‘I’m sorry, but Tootie Staunton-Miller
invited us to dinner at her grand home on Fifth Avenue so we’ll need to
decline.’
 
It’s grotesque.
 
She’s got the best house on Fifth and
she’s doing well with her charitable affairs, but she’ll never be as endearing
as Addy is.
 
We all love Addy,
regardless of his sexual complications.
 
But Tootie?
 
She can toot
herself to the moon.”

“I need
you to get me in.”

“That’s
impossible.”

“Killing
your husband wasn’t, Mamie.”

She
lowered her voice.
 
“Please don’t
talk about that.
 
Ever.
 
It’s awful how Bonzy died.
 
Who knew he had such enemies?”

“I just
need for you to get me and one guest into the event.
 
That’s all I’m asking.”

“She
knows I loathe her.
 
You’re asking a
lot.”

“That’s
because I gave you a lot.
 
You have
my cell.
 
I expect a call back in
five minutes.”

“But who
should I say is coming?”

Carmen
came up with some bullshit names and a location.
 
“The Mark Edwards of East Hampton.”

It took
Mamie four minutes to secure an invitation for them, which would be awaiting
them at the reception area.

“Thanks,
Mamie.”

“I
suppose I should be reading the front page of the Times tomorrow?
 
Final season at the Four Seasons?
 
Death by drowning in the Pool Room?”

“Good-bye,
Mamie.”

Carmen
looked at Alex.
 
“You have your
tux?”

“Never
travel without it.”

“And I
have a dress.
 
Let’s get back to the
hotel.
 
If nothing else, I need to
get this steak sauce off me.
 
I
don’t think Tootie Staunton-Whatshername would approve of it.”