Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) (3 page)

“Yes, hi. My name is Nia James. I have a six o’clock appointment with Mr. DaCosta.”

“Yes, Miss James. Are you at the hotel? Did you get the message at the restaurant?” the woman asked.

“Yes, I’m downstairs. But—”

“Good! We’ll see you in his room shortly.”

And the line went dead.
Really?!

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” asked the bellhop.

Well, if Nia took Evan’s assistant literally, it sounded like they were both in his room. Her well-earned streetwise instincts told her something was still fishy. But, it now seemed less likely that it was all an elaborate ruse to kill her, or worse.

“Yes, thank you. I’m all set.”

The young man nodded politely and gestured for her to follow him. He guided her into the elevators where they exited on an upper floor, then stopped at the end of the hall.

“Here you are, ma’am. Have a great evening.”

Then he was gone, without even hinting for a tip.

Nia squared her shoulders, brushed invisible lint off her suit jacket, then knocked. The door was immediately opened by a middle-aged woman in a blue pantsuit. She smiled warmly and opened the door widely.

“Miss James, thank you for being so flexible this evening. I’m Sandra Blake, Evan’s assistant.”

Nia followed her into the room, her apprehension reduced considerably. Sandra reminded her of the head librarian at the UMass Boston campus library. A stickler for the rules but pretty harmless and motherly otherwise.

“Nice to meet you, Sandra,” she replied with a genuine smile. “Is Mr. DaCosta still available? I’m happy to rebook our meeting if needed.”

“He’s just finishing a call, then he’s all yours. We’ve just had a few delays with a contract negotiation. So it seemed easier for him to meet you here while we wait for the final paperwork to be sent. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Nia looked across the very expansive room toward the seating area near the wraparound windows of the corner suite. She also took in the full-size dining area, and the double French doors that must lead into the separate bedroom. It was a beautiful room, decorated with stately pieces, traditional style, and character. Very representative of historical Boston.

“Would you like something to drink?” continued Sandra.

“No, thank you,” she replied, perching on the edge of the sofa, placing her tote-size purse on the cushion beside her. “I’m fine for now.”

“I’ll let Evan know you’re here. I’m sure he’ll be out shortly.”

Sandra went through the French doors, leaving Nia alone in the parlor.

After one minute turned into ten, she couldn’t sit idle any longer. Nia walked across the room to look out at the harbor and city-line. Once in front of the windows, she noticed a door that let out onto a large terrace. Without hesitation, she opened the door and stepped outside. The May evening was cool and breezy at such a height, but it was such a spectacular view that Nia lost track of time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She jumped with surprise before turning to the voice. It was Evan DaCosta, standing near the terrace doors. His jacket and tie were gone, and his crisp white shirt had the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and several buttons undone at the neck. The wind pressed the cotton and fine wool of his clothes against his body, confirmation of her earlier assessment. He was a pretty spectacular male specimen.

“Yes, it is,” she finally replied, glad for the distance between them to hide her discomfort. “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind me coming out here.”

He smiled. A slow teasing twist of well-shaped lips.

“Access to the balcony is the least I can offer you after keeping you waiting so long. I should be the one apologizing.”

She looked away, back out at the harbor. Funny things were happening in her stomach. Things that had no place at a business meeting.

“Your assistant let me know you were unexpectedly detained. Did everything work out?” she asked politely as she walked toward him.

“Yes, finally. Sandra just left with everything she needs.”

Nia smiled back, but it felt stiff. If Sandra was gone, they were alone. In his very impressive hotel room. With his shirt open low enough for her to see the smooth, silky skin of his firm pecs.

“As I told her, I know you have limited time to decide what to do with your father’s collection but I’m happy to reschedule for a better time in your schedule,” she explained as she brushed by him to reenter the suite. The scent of his woodsy, amber aftershave teased her nose.

“Nonsense. I’ll order dinner in and kill two birds with one stone. What do you feel like eating?” dismissed Evan.

“All right, then,” she conceded. “Fish would be fine, whatever they have available.”

“Fish it is. Make yourself comfortable.”

Nia sat back down on the sofa next to her purse, and watched out of the corner of her eyes as he placed their order through a tablet on the desk near the bedroom.

“White wine?” he asked a few moments later, holding up a chilled bottle.

“Thank you,” replied Nia against her better judgment. But something about the man made her feel jumpy, unsettled. Maybe a little wine would help to relax her. It would also be rude to decline.

He sat down on the other side of the couch and handed her a glass of crisp, golden liquid.

“They had sea bass, so I hope that’s okay?” She nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get to work.”

Five hours earlier, Evan and Tony were converging on Matt Flannigan. The Worthington night-shift security guard was still walking at a rapid pace through the neighborhood streets of Dorchester. With the brim of his baseball hat brim pulled low, he looked around with frequent, sharp glances as though he was worried about being followed.

“He’s headed toward you on Bay Street, Ice,” advised Tony through the tiny earpiece Evan was wearing.

“There’s a subway station about two blocks east,” Evan replied as he jogged in that direction. “That has to be where he’s headed. Let’s take him near the entrance. There’ll be enough people around so we don’t draw any attention.”

“Got it,” Tony confirmed.

Two minutes later, Evan spotted the suspect a half a block away, with the other Fortis agent following at a steady but discreet distance.

“Okay, I have eyes,” he notified Tony. “I’ll get ahead of you so he’s cornered.... Shit!”

Suddenly, Flannigan ducked between two buildings and disappeared from view. Both Evan and Tony burst into full-speed sprints, determined not to lose their target. Tony turned into the alley first, just as the distinctive sound of two sharp pops went off, echoing faintly against old brick and stone.

“Tony, what do we have?” Evan demanded within paces of the scene, his gun drawn and pointed to the ground. Thankfully, the street was vacant of pedestrians.

“He’s down,” Tony replied a few seconds later.

Evan ducked between the buildings and ran to where Tony was standing, next to a big dumpster. The body of Matt Flannigan was sprawled out on the pavement, with a bullet wound in his forehead. Evan registered all the details as he took cover to case the immediate area. The shooter could still be in the vicinity, ready to complete his objective. They waited for several minutes, but nothing happened.

“Did you see anything?” he asked Tony, as they both holstered their weapons.

“Nothing specific, just movement at the other side of the alley. Whoever it was knew he would cut through here and was waiting for him.”

The men looked down at the body, with the duffel bag still draped across his chest, then back at each other hard for a few seconds with understanding. The killer hadn’t tried to take anything. It wasn’t a robbery, it was an execution. Which meant Flannigan was nothing but a pawn.

“Check him just in case,” Evan instructed before he ran to other end of the alley. A quick but thorough survey of the area didn’t produce any additional information. Whoever shot Flannigan was long gone.

By four-thirty, Evan and his team had reconvened for an update in the hotel room that was now their control center. His partners, Lucas and Sam, were joining by video from their headquarters outside of Alexandria, Virginia.

“Why are we changing the plan, Ice?” asked Lucas through the telepresence.

Evan rubbed at his chin, thinking through the new variables discovered today that changed the viability of his original plan for Nia James.

“We built the covert approach to get as close to James as quickly as possible and confirm her involvement in the robbery,” Evan explained. “Based on the information Edward provided about her as smart, dedicated, and honest to a fault, and her fairly clean background, we made the logical assumption that if she were involved in the robbery it was likely as an unwilling participant in this heist. Perhaps coerced by a boyfriend, or forced to participate for some other reason. As such, she would be scared, vulnerable, and looking for any way to get out of the mess. So by presenting me as an eager buyer of hot goods, we could see if she would take the bait out of desperation. Her reaction alone would tell us if she was in some way involved.”

His team all nodded from their various positions in the room. Tony was standing beside Evan, similar in height and size, but about ten years older. After spending over twenty years with Interpol, he was their expert in stolen commodities. If there was any intel about the heist in the black market, he would find it.

“It’s a good plan,” Sam stated from his seat beside Lucas in the large conference room at their headquarters.

“It
was
good,” Evan countered. “When we had the security guard as our weak link, and could play James and Flannigan off each other until one of them cracked. But someone’s taken him out of the equation.”

“He was the key,” stated Raymond Blunt, their on-site security specialist. He was about the same age as Evan, with a long, wavy head of dirty blond hair that made him look more like a surfer than a former NSA specialist. “There is no way someone inside or outside Worthington got around their video surveillance and the motion sensor technology throughout the gallery and near the safe without his help. Flannigan might have missed the image loop on the security cameras, even though I found it in two minutes, but he couldn’t have missed the thirty-minute power disruption to the warehouse sensors. There would have been warnings lighting up his security monitors until they were manually turned off.”

“Well, judging by the bullet in his head, he wasn’t the thief,” Tony added. “He only had a couple of hundred bucks on him. Whoever took him out never even tried to take what he had, so they just wanted to shut him up.”

“And we couldn’t get to his apartment before the police,” Evan explained.

“Flannigan must have made a real mess because his girlfriend got home just after he left and thought they had been robbed,” continued Tony. “The cops were still investigating when his body was found. It might be a couple of days before I can get in.”

“So, right now, that only leaves James as our prime suspect,” summarized Lucas.

Evan crossed his arms across his chest and took a deep breath.

“Except we never considered that she may actually be the thief or a willing accomplice.“

“Not seriously, anyway,” Tony added, walking up to stand beside Evan. “It didn’t make sense at the time. Selling the red diamond was going to make her career in the auction world, and earn her a tidy bonus. So why risk it by stealing the necklace and other pieces?”

“Yup, we agreed, it didn’t make sense,” Lucas chimed in. “Particularly since she would obviously be the first person under suspicion.”

“So that left her as an unwilling accomplice, likely coerced with some serious leverage,” finished Evan.

“Assuming she is the inside man, not someone else within Worthington,” threw in Sam. “I still think she’s too convenient.”

“She was the only one with the code to the safe, so we have to put her at the top of this list,” stated Michael Thorpe.

He was the last, and youngest member of Evan’s team. As a former FBI agent, he was their prime investigator.

They all nodded.

“So, what’s changed your thinking, Ice?” Lucas asked again.

“My gut. Now that I’ve met James, I can’t see her as a victim. This woman has her game together, tight.”

“You mean, she’s sexy as hell?” chuckled Raymond.

The other men grinned knowingly.

“Yeah, she’s attractive. But it’s more than that. She knows it and she’s working it,” Evan explained, turning away to pace the room. “Every instinct tells me the desperate victim role just doesn’t fit.”

“And if she’s not an unwilling accomplice, then she’s either willingly involved, and smart enough to set it up so she’s too obvious a suspect to seriously be considered . . .” Lucas added.

“Or she’s not our man,” finished Sam.

There was silence as the six men thought it through for a few minutes.

“Tony, are you sure there was nothing significant in her apartment?” Evan asked.

“Nope. It was clean. Lots of expensive clothes and shoes, but nothing to suggest she’s in any kind of trouble,” he replied.

“Her financials are good. Pretty boring, actually,” Raymond added. “She spends a pretty penny on her appearance, between designer stores and spas, but otherwise, she’s in the black. There’s money in the bank and solid equity in her condo. We can’t find anything to suggest money is the motivator here.”

“Money is always a motivator,” Evan stated, still pacing.

“Or she’s just innocent,” mumbled Sam, again. He liked to play devil’s advocate, and take the opposite side of almost every debate.

“Maybe,” whispered Evan.

“We haven’t found much to go on with other employees. They all seem fairly normal, no red flags yet,” Raymond added.

“It’s only been a day and a half, but things are completely quiet underground,” Tony stated.

“Which means, whoever stole the jewels likely already had a buyer lined up. If there were hot goods of this value in the black market, someone would be talking about it. It wasn’t random or opportunistic. It was meticulously thought out,” explained Evan.

“And someone at Worthington had to have provided some of the intel, or did the deed,” Michael assessed. “According to Edward, Flannigan wouldn’t have known when the jewels were arriving or the code for the safe.”

“Exactly,” confirmed Evan.

“So, back to the covert operation,” Lucas stated. “Ice, you’re thinking: If James is clever enough to help plan this whole thing and fool us by putting herself out there as the prime suspect, and if she already has a buyer, she’s not going to take the bait of you as a potential buyer for the jewels.”

“But, if you’re a boyfriend or love interest, she will eventually let something slip,” Tony finished.

“From what we know, she’s unattached and clearly has a taste for expensive things. What could be better than a wealthy businessman from out of town to sweep her off her feet? Close proximity to her will also give me access to her communications outside of work. It will take a little longer than we thought, but it will work. If she has anything to hide, I will find it,” Evan added without smugness. It was a strategy he’d used very successfully on several occasions.

“I guess it’s lucky for you that’s she’s so attractive, Ice,” Lucas stated with a wolfish grin. The team could always trust him to insert his sense of humor in almost every situation.

Evan shrugged with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“It’s a tough job, boys. But I’m doing it for the mission.”

They all laughed.

“Okay, looks like we have a new plan for James,” Lucas confirmed. “Edward is giving us until Friday to produce a solid lead, either on the buyer or thief. We can now confirm that Flannigan was the security breach, and I’ll update him on our status tomorrow. Ice, we’re keeping your covert investigation under wraps for now, even from Edward. It’s too vital to risk any exposure.”

Evan nodded in agreement before Lucas and Sam disconnected their video feed. Evan checked his watch and he turned to face his team.

“Okay, I have my assistant from DaCosta Solutions on her way here to play her role,” he told them. “Let’s turn on the surveillance for the parlor in my suite. I’ll keep James waiting for about thirty minutes. Let’s see what she does with that free time. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she’ll make a very informative phone call.”

He then studied the video feed now available for the living area of his suite to understand the scope of the monitoring.

“Okay, showtime,” he declared. “Let’s connect later tonight to see if we have any progress.”

 

 

An hour later, Evan was sitting across from Nia James discussing his father’s death. The best cover stories were always based on the truth.

“Did he have heart problems?” Nia asked.

Though she held the wineglass as they spoke, she had only taken two sips. But her posture had gradually relaxed over the last fifteen minutes. Where originally she had been perched at the edge of her seat, both feet planted flat, she now had her legs crossed toward him and leaned against the back cushion. Evan could sense that she was still on guard, but no longer ready to bolt.

“No, not that we were aware of. Honestly, if he had experienced anything, I don’t think he would have told us. My dad was not one to share the burden.”

“That must have been hard on your mom,” she surmised.

“Yeah, I suppose. They were together a long time and he traveled a lot for the business. I think they just fell into a routine.”

“His sudden death must have been a shock.”

He nodded, a frown wrinkling his brow. How had they gotten into such an intimate and honest conversation about his life? His father?

“I’m sure you’ve seen and heard your share of family drama in the auction business,” he replied, shifting direction. “How long have you been doing it?”

“Almost a year,” she replied. “I was in retail jewelry before that. And I have seen some pretty interesting situations. Death and divorce doesn’t always mix well with money and inheritance.”

“Yet they go hand in hand,” he murmured.

“Unless you just avoid them,” she stated with a teasing grin. “Except money, of course.”

Evan laughed. “Of course.”

His eyes were drawn to her red-stained lips, and the glossy white of her teeth. She was even prettier when she smiled like that. It was almost wicked. He liked it.

“Is that what you’re doing?” he probed.

“What do you mean?” she asked, though she was sharp enough to know exactly what he meant.

“You’re not wearing a ring, so I have to assume you’re not married. Is that your plan to live forever? Avoid marriage and all its messy complication?”

She raised a brow, and he felt scolded before she even responded. Though he could tell she was still amused.

“I’m not sure that’s an appropriate question, Mr. DaCosta. Or a feasible plan.”

He laughed again.

“So I’m back to ‘Mr. DaCosta,’ am I? Well, I’ll just have to work my way back to being Evan.”

Nia narrowed her eyes dramatically, letting him know she was onto his flirty game and was not having any of it. She was clearly used to effectively dealing with even the most subtle advances. Evan was suddenly eager to find out what she’d do when he really turned it on.