Page 89 of Summer Heat
Nicola processed his words. His look. It couldn’t be. Could it? “Non capisco. I do not understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
Yes, she did. The CIA had someone else in here. The butler. She should have known.
“Yes, I do.” She nodded, mapping out her next move. Did Beth know? The games. She hated all the games, and if this guy was here to make sure she did her job, she was going to lose her trademark cool. She hated being checked up on. Hated the doubt that she couldn’t pull the gig off. Then again, she hadn’t.
“I’ll get you a lemonade, or would you like to come with me?”
Hell, why not? “Yes. Of course.”
They made their way down an elaborate hall. Oil paintings of New England landscapes and native animals were framed in gilded boxes and lit by brass fixtures.
“They’re bringing you in,” he said as casually as if they talked about the change in the seasons.
“You?”
“No.”
“Why me?”
“Not my call.”
“Who else is here?” Or in other words, why was Cash here?
“Just the two of us.”
“I didn’t know about you. Maybe you don’t know about someone else.”
“Maybe.”
Not the answer she wanted, though she wouldn’t believe any answer he gave if it were a definite yes or no.
He handed her a drink and napkin from a side table. “Extraction directions are in your cocktail napkin. You leave tonight. Take this to the bathroom, and move as directed.”
“This is because of the patio?”
“What?”
“I was supposed to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow.”
“Change of plan.”
“Why?”
“Not sure, other than Antilla was eliminated.”
“What do we have on that?”
“Wasn’t us.”
“What—”
“You need to move. Go. Follow the directions. The extraction team is ready to pull you out in five minutes.”
The butler turned and walked away, leaving her, drink in hand. Nicola sipped her lemonade and headed for the specified bathroom. She took in the empty lounging area and vanity counters and entered a quiet bathroom stall, closing the door behind her. She unfolded the edges of the napkin. It was blank. What the hell?
She held it to the light. Nothing. No ink. No code. No marks.
