Kim Baldwin - The Gemini Deception

Ryden didn’t believe she’d heard right. “My…what are you talking about?”

“Mr. Thomas was killed at the country club. Some waiter served him poisoned coffee to made it look like a heart attack. They played on the fact that your husband had heart problems to avoid an autopsy.”

“Oh, my…” They’d certainly proved they were capable of doing virtually anything to get what they wanted, from killing the Laudens to set her up to kidnapping the president of the United States and killing five Secret Service agents. But knowing they had the power to murder Thomas’s husband and get away with it, completely undetected, was a whole different kind of scary. “How do you know Moore was behind it?”

“I don’t have proof yet, but my instincts are never wrong.”

“And why are you trusting me with this information?” Ryden asked. “How do you know I wasn’t involved?”

“Maybe you were. I don’t know. All I know is that you’re terrified of him and there’s got to be a good reason.” Kennedy was spot-on, on both accounts, but if Ryden admitted it, they were both as good as dead.

“First of all, my husband died of natural causes. Secondly, I’m not afraid of Moore. My only issue with him is that he’s pushing me to act like the president this country elected at a time when I feel my world has fallen apart. My husband’s death has taken a heavy toll, evident from the fact that I even tried to kiss you. I’m tired, confused, and lonely. Frankly, I don’t know where I find the energy to get up in the morning.”

“And Moore is pushing you to perform?” Kennedy eyed her suspiciously. “Nothing but a friend with your best interest in mind.”

“Indeed. I’ve told you all this before. So I’m asking you to stop making up stories, looking for what isn’t there, and sticking your nose in government issues.”

“What you told me about Moore the other day doesn’t fit your story. When I asked you about him, you practically gagged, and I’m sure it wasn’t the wine.”

Ryden sighed for effect. “He tires me and at times aggravates me because he pushes too hard. That’s all I meant.”

Kennedy stood up. “You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?” she replied, sounding appropriately offended.

“You have the power to fire his ass, but for some reason you insist on protecting him.”

“Fire him?” Ryden practically shouted at the absurdity of the idea.

“The man tried to molest you, and all you did was walk away. Why is that, Elizabeth?”

How could Kennedy possibly know that? Ratman was nothing but decent in public. “Have you gone insane? He’s never touched me.”

“Really. Because it sure sounded like it when he came to your room the night before last.”

“What—”

“As you know, I’m responsible for checking your room for listening devices, which means I can place them at will because no one else checks.” Kennedy looked down at her, her arms folded across her chest. “I heard what he tried to do, and I also heard your disgusted reaction to it. He talks to you like he owns you.”

Ryden’s face burned and her hands tingled. Breathe , she told herself. “I can have you fired right now.”

Kennedy approached her and stopped a foot away. “Why, Elizabeth? Why are you afraid of him?”

“How dare you spy on me.”

“I was… am concerned about your safety. I was sent here to protect you.”

“But you were not sent to look for an unfounded conspiracy,” she said. “All I see is a nosy guard throwing false accusations. If there was any truth to your obscene theories, we’d be up to our noses in officials. Is your employer even aware of all this?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss my employer.”

“But you are at liberty to destroy my life with false accusations.”

“The elevator attack was a setup and you know it.”

“Oh, look. Another crazy theory.”

Kennedy looked dangerously angry. “Is it? Is it? If they wanted you dead, you’d be just that.”

“I was saved by good men who gave their lives for me.”

“Doesn’t it bother you at all that these good men died for no reason?” Kennedy shouted. “They gave their lives to protect someone who was never intended as a target, anyway.”

Where was Kennedy getting all this? It was bad enough she had to live with the deaths of innocent men for the rest of her life, but to have Kennedy rub it in her face was unbearable.

Kennedy continued. “What do they have on you? What are you involved in that can make you justify what happened to those men?”

“Nothing,” Ryden insisted.

“Then that’s very sad, because I wanted to believe you didn’t have a choice. That your life, or someone you cared about, was at risk.”

“Stop it,” Ryden yelled back. “You don’t know anything. I haven’t done anything.”

But Kennedy apparently wouldn’t let go. She took another step closer, until they were only a couple of feet apart. “You are responsible for the deaths of five innocent men, and I want to know why.”

“I would never hurt anyone.”

“I believe that,” Kennedy said. “That’s why I was hoping for your cooperation. I don’t have some death wish. If I had the slightest suspicion you were voluntarily involved, I would have kept my mouth shut. But I believe you were coerced—threatened somehow. Let me help you before more people, including yourself, get hurt.”

The exchange was becoming more heated by the second, and Ryden struggled to come up with a way to get Kennedy to stop this interrogation. “You needn’t concern yourself with my well-being.”

“It’s my job.”

“Then do your job and stop looking for ghosts. Just let it go.”

Kennedy’s expression softened. “I can’t,” she replied.

“Why?”

“Because I know you’re in trouble and I want to help you. There’s got to be a way to get you out of whatever mess you’re in.”

“I’m not in any mess, and I sure as hell don’t play the damsel-in-distress role very well, so I have no need for a knight in shining armor to rescue me. If I were in any trouble at all, I’d find a way to deal with it the way I always have.”

“Why can’t you accept my help?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because…” Kennedy looked flustered. “Because, I just do.”

Ryden wanted desperately to run to her and tell her everything. For the first time, she felt an urgency to talk, and Kennedy was so close to the truth. But neither of them stood a chance against these people. “There’s nothing to help me with.”

“Stop lying,” Kennedy said, clearly frustrated. She shook Ryden by the shoulders. “Who are you protecting?”

Myself was the ugly, honest answer. “Get the hell out of here,” Ryden shouted.

“You’re in my room,” Kennedy hollered back.

Ryden pushed her away and walked to the door. “Leave. Do us both a favor, and leave.”

*

Manhattan Beach, New York

The GPS on Montgomery Pierce’s rental car accurately pointed him to Yuri Dratshev’s red-brick mansion in an upscale neighborhood, though he could have picked out the Russian mob boss’s home on sight. The exterior was a mishmash of garish excesses—a gold cupola topped the structure, six gold Roman columns flanked the front door, and the lawn was full of statues, mostly Italian nudes. Security was also well evident. A forbidding metal fence surrounded the estate, and cameras covered every angle of possible intrusion.

Monty pulled into the driveway and announced himself over the intercom. Half a minute later, the gate opened and he drove in to find a guard with a machine gun waiting to admit him at the front door.

The goon led him to Dratshev’s study, where more kitschy accoutrements awaited: red velvet curtains and animal-skin rugs, mounted trophy heads and a cherry desk inlaid with a massive, colorful, Orthodox mosaic of the Virgin Mary.