Michael Prescott - Mortal Faults

She placed Andrea at the hidden table and inspected the result.

“It works. You’re totally concealed. Unless the tree starts molting, we’ll be fine.”

“Trees don’t molt.”

“Even better.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You’ll be eavesdropping on a conversation I’m about to have. At a certain point you’ll emerge from the greenery and confront the other party. Shock value is what we’re going for.”

“Shock value,” Andrea echoed blankly.

“Amazing how a little honest surprise can penetrate someone’s defenses. See, look at this.” Abby produced an item from her purse. “Microcassette recorder. Not as handy as a garlic genius, but you can’t have everything. Normally I use it for dictation. Note to self, that kind of thing. Tonight I’m using it as a clandestine recording device. I’m going to get the conversation on tape.”

“The conversation with…?” Then Andrea understood. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Not him.”

“In the very flesh. He’s coming here at six.”

“But… why?”

“He thinks I’m planning to betray you to him.” Abby held up a reassuring hand. “Just a ruse. There’s no betrayal.”

“Jack… coming here…”

“I told him I’d tell him where to find you. In exchange, I get a pile of money. But what Jack doesn’t know is, I’m not all that materialistic. Money can’t buy happiness, or at least not enough happiness to tempt me.”

The information finally penetrated. “He expects you to deliver me to him?”

“Right.”

“He’ll be furious when he finds out you lied.”

“Good. Anger is another way of lowering a person’s defenses. Angry people tend to blurt things out. I’m hoping J.R. will do a lot of world-class blurting tonight.”

“J.R. That’s funny.” Andrea had a faraway look. “I called him that once. He hated it. He didn’t want to be a villain on a prime time soap.”

“But he ended up as one, anyway. A villain, that is. He hasn’t made it to prime time yet.”

“I still don’t get it, Abby. What can he possibly say? You think he’ll admit to sending those gunmen to my house?”

“That-and maybe some other things. All you need to do is listen. At the right moment, step out from behind the foliage and confront him.”

“What’s the right moment?”

“You’ll know. Trust your instincts. Whenever it happens, it’ll scare the bejeezus out of him. He hasn’t been up close and personal with you in twenty years. He’s not expecting to see you now.”

“But he wants me dead.”

“I know it.”

“If he sees me-”

“There’s nothing he can do. Not here. Look around you. We’re in a very public place. The lobby of a five-star hotel.”

Andrea nodded slowly, not quite believing it. “What do you want me to say to him?”

“Anything you like.”

“I don’t have any idea-after all these years-my mind’s a blank.”

“It won’t be. You’ll find the words. You’ll have plenty to say to the distinguished congressman, believe me.”

Andrea looked away. “You should have told me what I was getting into.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“I might not have.”

“Well, you’re here now. This will all work out for the best.” Abby put a hand on her arm. “You still trust me, right?”

“I trust you.” Andrea smiled, a startling sight on her pale, serious face. “You’re completely crazy, of course, but I do trust you.”

Abby smiled back. “Nicest thing I’ve heard all day.”

The agent in the backseat of Tess’s car was still reviewing files on his laptop. “There are security stations at the lobby entrances. Metal detectors. To go in armed, you’ll have to show your Bureau ID.”

Tess wasn’t going to do that. “If I start flashing my creds, Abby will notice, and she’ll know I’m carrying. That’ll be enough to tip her off.”

“Well, you can’t be unarmed,” Hauser said over the air.

“Sure I can. Remember, she can’t bring a gun inside, either.”

“How sure are you she can’t sneak a weapon past security?”

Tess, who was quite certain Abby could outwit any library rent-a-cop, didn’t answer directly. “She’s not going to take me out, for God’s sake.”

“Even if she thinks you’ve betrayed her?” Hauser pressed. “She took out Garrick for shooting at her, and that was just business. With you, it’s personal.”

“She won’t shoot me,” Tess insisted, hoping she was right.

“We’ll send a man after you to watch your back.”

“Abby can make a Bureau agent without even trying. Anyone you send in will be spotted immediately. I’m going in alone.”

“I think, Agent McCallum, you’ve forfeited the right to work solo in this organization.”

“We don’t have any choice about it. Either I go in alone or Abby will be spooked for sure.”

“Maybe you want to be alone with her so you can pass on a warning.”

“If I’d wanted to warn her, I could have phoned her at any time.”

Hauser drew an audible breath. “All right. We’ll play it your way. But you won’t be making the arrest alone.”

“You’re right about that.” Tess almost laughed. Taking down Abby single-handedly was the last thing she wanted to try. “I’ll wear my radio under my jacket. When I want you to move, I’ll use a code phrase. I’ll say…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll say The Godfather. She’s always talking about that movie. You hear The Godfather, you move.”

“ The Godfather.” Hauser grunted. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t end up like Sonny at the tollbooth.”

Tess didn’t get the reference and didn’t particularly want to. It sounded bad.

This whole thing sounded bad. But it had to be done. She just kept telling herself that. It had to be done.

Show time.

Abby reached into her purse and activated the tape recorder. Across the lobby, a familiar figure was entering through the main doors.

Standing, she caught Reynolds’ eye. He strode forward, a briefcase in his hand. He was nicely attired-suit jacket and tie-looking every inch the gentleman, a fact that only proved how deceiving appearances could be.

Abby waited until he had arrived at the table before sitting down again. She signaled for him to do likewise.

“So where is she?” he asked, forgoing small talk.

“First things first. As Tom Cruise would say, show me the money.”

“It’s all there,” Reynolds said, handing over the briefcase.

Abby put the case on her lap. “Must have been tough to get all this cash together so fast.”

“I’ve faced bigger challenges.”

She popped the latches and found herself staring at rubber-banded wads of hundred-dollar bills. She had never seen $50,000 in cash, and she found the sight strangely compelling.

Reynolds’ voice roused her. “Now it’s time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain.”

“Hey, what ever happened to the fine art of conversation?”

“I’m not in the mood for pleasantries.”

“See, Jack, that’s your basic problem. You don’t take time to stop and smell the roses. You’re a driven man. You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you’re not careful.”

“I’m touched by your concern. Where the hell is she? ”

The library, built in the 1920s, was a massive pile of eccentric architecture complete with carved sphinxes and a rooftop pyramid. Tess entered via the Fifth Street door, passing through the metal detector without incident because her Sig Sauer had been left in the car.

She stepped into the main lobby, a large room with a mess of abstract shapes painted on the ceiling in vivid colors. A few customers were lined up at the checkout counter playing beat-the-clock. One of the clerks at the counter gave Tess a disapproving glance, as if daring her to head for the stacks at closing time.