Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) (20 page)

After the job was done, there would be plenty of time to explain this to Nia. And maybe, just maybe she’d understand.

Or so Evan told himself.

Nia followed the man named Tony through the alley and into a big underground parking lot on the other side of the street. He moved quickly, staying in front of her, occasionally stopping if something looked concerning. Once they reached Evan’s car, he drove out of the lot at a speed significantly above the limit. They went straight to the Boston Harbor Hotel. Tony drove past the main entrance and continued around to the back, stopping at the service bay.

There, another man was waiting. He opened Nia’s passenger door to help her out. She immediately recognized him as one of the investigators.

“Hi, Ms. James, Michael Thorpe,” he stated.

“Of course,” she mumbled, still confused about what the hell was going on.

Michael tossed a package into the car. It looked like a small stack of bandages.

“Ice thought you might need them,” he told Tony.

The car engine revved behind her, and she turned to watch as it sped away.

“Where’s he going?”

“To help secure the scene,” Michael explained. “Come, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up.”

Nia looked down at herself, noticing the dark brownish-red smears and spots across the front of her cream suit. It took several moments to realize what it was. Blood.

“Nia.” She looked at the tall, bulky man. He still seemed so young, no more than twenty-five. Something about him reminded her of the recruitment commercials for the U.S. Marine Corps.

“We need to get you inside,” he explained, still polite but now more insistent.

“Okay.”

They went through a series of hallways until they reached the service elevator, riding it up to an upper-level floor. They were safely inside Evan’s hotel room a few moments later.

Nia looked around, thinking about the last time she was there. Two weeks ago? It was surreal. The space looked the same. Elegant and sophisticated old-world Boston luxury. Except now she saw it for what it was. A stage, a sham. Was anything real?

“The incident with the truck. It wasn’t an accident, was it?” she asked softly.

Michael was getting her a bottle of water out of the fridge. He handed it to her.

“No, we don’t believe it was.”

Nia nodded, accepting the drink.

“Why don’t you go and change out of those clothes?” he urged. “There’s a robe in the bathroom. Then we can have a talk.”

She started across the room, then suddenly remembered something.

“Edward. I was supposed to meet him for lunch.” God, everything was so crazy!

“We’ve already provided Mr. Worthington with an update. He’ll be here shortly as well. You can talk to him then.”

Nia nodded, then continued into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. She stood with her back against the door, just struggling to breathe. The magnitude of what had just happened fell over her like a dark, heavy cloak. The relevance of everything in the last two weeks of her life was now completely in question.

She didn’t even know where to begin.

Was Evan DaCosta real? Who was he? Was that even his name?

The pain that ripped through her was so sharp that she bent over.

No. She couldn’t deal with that now. Not here in the hotel room, with Fortis agents just outside the door. There was no way that any of them were going to see her break.

Nia took a deep breath in, and straightened her back, blinking back the tears that were pooled in her eyes. There were other things more important than
him.
Life-and-death things. Her job. Catching a multimillion-dollar jewel thief who just tried to kill her. Those were the things she needed to focus on.

She turned to look at herself in the large mirror above the marble-topped vanity, placing her purse on top. The smears of blood looked gruesome against the creamy fabric. She couldn’t help wonder if it came from Tony or her attacker. Or both. Either way, the suit was ruined, joining the one she had been wearing during the attempted hit and run.

Never mind her retirement fund, she thought. The summer auction better work out the way everyone hoped, because she now needed the bonus money just to replenish her wardrobe. Nia laughed drily, shaking her head. At least, she still had her sense of humor. Or maybe she was just in shock.

With a final look at herself, she kicked off her heels, peeled off her clothes, and washed her face with the boutique soap on the counter. Under the current circumstances, the dramatic liquid eyeliner and bold red lipstick seemed ridiculous. She then pulled on one of the large, silver-gray robes hanging on the back of the door. It was way too big for her frame, but thick, luxurious, and warm.

Nia picked up her things and placed them neatly on the counter before she went back out into the living area, with her purse. The suite was empty, but there was a rolling table near the dining room laden with several plates. It then occurred to her that it was still Thursday afternoon and someone had ordered lunch. Such an ordinary thing yet it seemed completely out of place in light of what was going on.

Uncertain of what was to happen next, Nia put her bag on the table and took out her phone. She needed to let the team know that she wasn’t going to be back. There were meetings to be cancelled, a long list of tasks they would need to manage. And how long was she expected to stay away, sequestered in this gilded jail? How was she going to get home wearing just a robe? A million thoughts raced through her brain as she starting dialing the main number for Worthington.

“Nia,” Michael stated as he came back in the room from a connected door. “Please don’t make any phone calls yet.”

She paused.

“Why? I have to tell the office that I’m delayed. I have meetings booked in my schedule,” she explained.

“It’s been taken care of,” he stated, stopping in front of her.

“How’s it taken care of, exactly?” demanded Nia, now fed up with the cloak-and-dagger dance. “Look, Michael. I understand you have a job to do, but I need to know exactly what’s going on. Why am I here and what do you want from me?”

“Mr. Worthington is on his way up to the room now, Nia. We just want to talk to you about whatever it is you know about the robbery,” he explained patiently.

“Fine. Then what? Am I being forced to stay here or will I be able to go home?”

“You won’t be forced to do anything, Nia.”

The statement came from the front door of the hotel room, from the man she used to know as Evan DaCosta. He was followed by the two other men she now knew worked with him, then Edward Worthington.

Her boss rushed forward, taking her by the shoulders. His face was filled with concern and relief.

“God, Nia. I was so worried about you. Are you all right?” he asked, taking in the robe and bare feet.

“I’m fine. My clothes got ruined during the . . . the incident,” she assured him, struggling to find the right words.

“Oh, thank goodness!” the older man exclaimed.

He looked even more tired and stressed than the last time they met. Nia suddenly felt compassion for all that he had been through, and only hoped she did know something that could help.

“Nia, why don’t you have a seat so we can get started.”

It was
Evan
again, sounding polite and in control. The other men moved around the room until she felt surrounded by warriors.

“I’d rather stand, thank you,” she retorted, refusing to look at him.

“As you wish,” he conceded, walking forward. “Then let’s get to the point. You had arranged to meet with Mr. Worthington to give him some information about the theft from the gallery. Can you tell us what that is?”

His words were polite, respectful, even cajoling, but his tone was hard as ice. Had he always sounded so cold?

“Sure I can. Once you’ve given me some information about what just happened.”

“Nia,” Edward started.

“No, Edward. Someone just tried to kill me. And it wasn’t the first time. So, while I recognize they’ve been hired to recover the jewelry, and I’ll do whatever I can to help, I would also like to stay alive.”

Her boss closed his mouth and nodded. He then looked over to
Evan
expectantly.

“Mr. DaCosta, Nia’s right. Her safety should be the first concern.”

“I can assure you that Nia’s protection is our top priority, Mr. Worthington. Unfortunately, until we identify exactly who’s been involved in the theft, she remains at risk. Which is why it’s essential that we find out what she knows as soon as possible,” he clarified. “What I can tell you is that the attacker appears to have acted alone. He’s a professional but only civilian-trained. We are now in the process of confirming his identity in order to figure out who hired him.”

Nia bit the side of her cheek. This was all her fault. If she had just told Edward or the investigators what she suspected from the beginning, maybe they wouldn’t be here now.

“All right, then. Where do you want me to start?” she inquired, still refusing to look at him.

“Wherever you think is important,” Michael stated, stepping forward to stand near her side. “You had told Raymond and me that you didn’t know if anyone at Worthington could be involved. But that appears to have changed?”

She nodded.

“Yes, but I didn’t have any proof. I still don’t. It’s just a theory, really.”

“Based on the reaction you’ve gotten, I would say you’re pretty damn close,” Tony inserted, the knife wound on his arm now wrapped with a white bandage.

“Yeah, I guess,” Nia acknowledged, suddenly physically and mentally exhausted. She lowered herself into one of the dining chairs.

“Tell us your theory, Nia,” Michael urged, sitting down beside her.

“Well, it was obvious someone from the company was involved, right? I really had no clue who it could be until my stepbrother gave me some more information.”

“Your stepbrother?” urged Michael.

“Yeah. I asked him to see if there was any word on the street about the heist,” she admitted, recognizing how shady it sounded. “He knows people who know people.”

“St. Clair.”

The statement came from
him,
now standing near the windows with his back to them.

“Yes.” Of course they would know about Nigel. They probably knew everything there was to know about her.

“What was the information?” continued Michael.

“That Matt Finnegan was connected in the company. That’s how they stole the diamonds.”

Michael looked up at the other men on their team. She could tell that the information was significant.

“When was that?” he asked. “When you spoke to him last Tuesday?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But how did you know that?”

She looked around the room. All the men were suddenly looking elsewhere, except for
him.
Nia met his eyes, and a fresh wave of hot anger coursed through her veins.

“You’ve been listening to my calls, tracking me?” she accused.

“Nia,” intervened Edward. “They’ve had surveillance on the whole office with my permission. It was necessary.”

“Unfortunately, we weren’t the ones listening to you at that time, Nia,” Michael added. “Your office had a bug.”

“Oh my God! Of course!” she exclaimed, covering her face. “That’s how they knew everything, Edward! We had talked about changing the safe combination right there at my desk.”

“I’m afraid so,” her boss agreed.

“Who do you think was working with Flannigan, Nia?” Michael asked, bringing them back to the main objective.

“I think it’s Chris Morton,” she whispered. “He was friends with Matt, and he knew we were collecting the items for the summer auction. It was only a matter of time until they were in the safe.”

They looked back at her, clearly underwhelmed by her information.

“You already knew all that,” she finally added.

“We did,” Michael confirmed. “Is there anything else you learned about Morton from St. Clair?”

“No. Nigel didn’t know who it was. I figured out myself after I talked to Chris after Memorial Day.”

“Last Tuesday?” Evan prompted, but Nia ignored him.

“What did you talk to him about?” Michael asked.

“About Matt and his murder,” she explained to the young agent. “We talked about how to get in contact with Matt’s girlfriend to send flowers or something. Then, later, I went into the warehouse and he was standing outside the back door, talking on his cell phone. He said: ‘Matt’s girlfriend must have it, but don’t worry. I’ll find her. I’ll get the stuff back. I just need a little more time.’”

Michael and Evan exchanged looks.

“Did Morton know you overheard him?” Michael asked.

“I don’t think so. I left before he came back inside.”

“Did he say what he’d get back?” continued Michael. “Anything else?”

“No. I didn’t stay to hear anything else,” she confessed. “It’s weak, I know. Which is why I didn’t say anything. I knew I was high on the suspect list, and it felt like throwing accusations around would only make me look guiltier. And I didn’t know who I could trust.”

The last statement was directed at Edward.

“Nia, I knew from the beginning that you didn’t have anything to do with it,” her boss assured her.

“Ice,” stated the agent named Raymond as he walked over to
him.
“Lucas and Sam will be available for a debrief in five.”

Nia looked over at the man she’d slept with for over almost two weeks.
Ice.
That’s also what Tony had called him during the attack. Seeing him now, standing with his legs spread wide and arms folded across his powerful chest. Unapologetic and unyielding. The name was fitting.

Now with Raymond’s announcement, even more made sense. Lucas and Sam. He said they ran a security company together. Then she’d spent a couple of hours with them over dinner, thinking she was meeting the close friends of the man she was seeing. They had known the whole time that she was nothing more than a job to him. Just another string in a loose knit of deceptions and half-truths.