If Looks Could Kill (7 page)

“Yeah. It's nice not to have to think about what to wear to dinner,” Caylin said.

Lucien chuckled. “One of the many advantages of simple clothing is lack of distraction.” He gestured at the table. “Shall we eat?”

“Yeah, I'm starving.”

They sat down at the table. Caylin imitated Lucien, tucking her legs underneath her. It wasn't very comfortable. What she wouldn't have given for a regular old kitchen chair and a real table.

They dined on an exotic variety of local dishes. Noodles, fish, root vegetables, and a very bitter tea. “Decaffeinated, of course,” Lucien said with a smile.

“Of course,” Caylin replied, hoping he wasn't drugging her. After that hypnotic episode, she wasn't trusting this guy any farther than she could throw his bankbook. She tried to get him to talk—which wasn't a problem. Lucien seemed to like the sound of his own voice. “So how did you start this?”

Lucien took a sip of tea. “I was like you, Caylin. Lost,” he said, replacing his cup on the table. “Wandering the world from place to place, looking for something that meant something. You know, as different as each country in the world can be, they are all basically the same. The East, the West, virtually anywhere you go—you work for money and material gain. You try to find a job that is
somehow fulfilling. But most people just find something they can tolerate. So you can have the beautiful apartment, the ‘phat flat,' so to speak.”

This made him chuckle, and Caylin did, too. Politely.

“Then what?” Lucien continued. “Start a family? Work even harder. To what end? Most jobs break your back and your heart. When I got here, I found this compound. It was an old temple that was just falling apart. The local government had no interest in it, so I took what money I had left and I bought it.” He smiled, and his eyes grew distant. “You have no idea how that one act changed my life. It was as if I suddenly took control of everything. As if I finally grabbed the helm of my own life and started steering. Soon others started to come. We'd talk, and they'd find that they were just like me. All they had to do was take control and steer their own course. I helped them do that. Now there are over seventy people here. We've built something that's not only beautiful but meaningful.”

Caylin honored his long speech with a moment of reverent silence—it seemed appropriate.

“That's amazing,” Caylin said finally. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is!” Lucien said, his beautiful eyes sparkling. “All you have to do is take the last step. You know in your heart what's always been the problem. Now you're here. Take the step.”

She smiled shyly. “This is a little weird for me. I mean, no one ever told me I was ever good enough to accomplish anything.” As she said the words, she thought about how sad they sounded and was suddenly glad she hadn't led the type of life that would actually force her to come here for help.

Lucien stared deep into her eyes, his expression both passionate and sympathetic. “It's time to leave all that behind, Caylin. Here you can accomplish anything you desire. You just have to let yourself.”

They stared at each other for a few intense moments. Caylin felt the hypnotic trance creeping in again, and she fought it off. She blinked and looked away.

Lucien smiled and sipped his tea. “I hope you decide to
stay for a while, Caylin. Things are only going to get more exciting. I have many plans.”

Caylin's ears perked up at this. “Really?”

He nodded. “
Big
plans. I hope to help beautify this whole country. I've been dealing closely with the prime minister himself. He's seen what I've done with this site. In fact, he sat exactly where you're sitting and told me how impressed he is.”

“That's amazing, Lucien.”

“Yes, it is pretty impressive. It wasn't something I expected. But we've struck up a spiritual partnership, so to speak.”

“A partnership?” Caylin prodded.

“Absolutely,” Lucien replied earnestly. “I want to expand and help beautify the country the way I have this place. I want to help the children of Kinh-Sanh as well. I have plans for a large recreational center in the capital city.”

“Really?” Caylin asked, faking breathlessness.

Lucien nodded, smiling. “Yes, it's really going to be wonderful. Eventually I want to build a spiritual retreat in the capital city that is even larger than this one. Sort
of a playground for the enlightened. After that, I'm even thinking about franchises.”

Caylin's eyes widened. “Wow. Franchises?” Kentucky Fried Enlightenment? she thought.

“Why not? Why should this kind of paradise be restricted to Kinh-Sanh? There are so many places that would benefit from what we have here. It's definitely—”

He paused, looking over Caylin's shoulder. She turned.

A grim-looking shaved head was motioning for Lucien.

“Excuse me, Caylin,” Lucien said calmly. “I won't be but a moment.”

He stood and trotted over to the bald man. They conferred briefly, and then Lucien followed the man to one of the curtains in the corner.

Then they disappeared behind it.

Adrenaline surged through Caylin. She needed to find out what was back there. From how Lucien was talking, he was a spiritual emperor waiting to happen. That wasn't necessarily evil, but the ambition in this man was not to be taken lightly.
Franchises?

She looked around. No other guards, as far as she could see. She quickly and gracefully covered the distance to the curtain. She smiled, so happy that she was able to
move
again. She paused, listening.

No sound.

Wait—

She heard low talking.

Between the curtains Caylin could see a sliver of light. Did she dare peek through? What if she was caught?

Well, she could just say she was looking for the bathroom. That always seemed to work. She was new here, after all. An innocent. At least, she was trying to put up that front. She assumed Lucien believed her. The little naive girl from the Midwest.

She could plead innocence. Sorry, Lucien. I just didn't know any better.

That was the ticket.

Excitement boiled within her. She reached up to the curtain. Pinched it gently. Pulled it slightly. The sliver of light grew larger.

Caylin took a deep breath . . . and peeked through.

•  •  •

“Maybe that silk sleeve meant something,” Theresa wondered aloud. She sipped her soda and winced as her hurt elbow gave her a jolt of pain. “It was the only thing tangible in the whole building.”

“You mean other than splinters and rat poops,” Jo replied. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Sorry, T., I don't buy it. What would a possible nuke smuggler want with high-end silk? I think we're so desperate for a clue that we'll consider anything at this point.”

“I hate it when you're right,” Theresa muttered.

“Then you must hate just about everything I say, huh?” Jo quipped.

Theresa burst out laughing. “Yeah, you just keep on believing that, Jo. Then it must be true.”

“Oh, it's true,” Jo said, smiling slyly.

“Whatever. I think we owe it to ourselves to let Uncle Sam in on all this.”

Jo nodded. “Good idea. He might have a helpful hint.”

Theresa wrinkled her nose. “Helpful? Sammy? All he
ever does is bark at us. It's like he's a demented parent and high-level civil servant all rolled into one.”

“You're being too hard on the old guy,” Jo said. Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I bet he's hot.”

Theresa looked horrified. “Uncle Sam? Are you nuts?”

“Come on,” Jo protested. “That voice, that authoritarian manner. I bet he's a handsome man.”

Theresa shook her head. “No way. I think he hides behind that digital distortion because he looks like the Phantom of the Opera.”

“Look at
Charlie's Angels
,” Jo argued. “Charlie turned out to be Blake Carrington, this totally sexy billionaire.”

Theresa rolled her eyes. “Charlie turned out to be the
voice
of John Forsythe, a handsome character actor who
played
a billionaire on TV. I think you're taking your spy fantasy just a little too far. And another thing, the flat is probably bugged. Uncle Sam now knows that you have a crush on him.”

Jo's jaw dropped. “I do not!”

“What did you just say?” Theresa asked, grinning. “Two key words: hot and sexy.”

Jo shook her head violently and turned her voice up several decibels. “If you're listening, Sammy,
I do not have a crush on you.
T.'s making the whole thing up. She's bored since she broke her computer.”

“Very nice, Jo. Now you're talking to walls.”

Jo sank back into her pillows. “As long as they don't answer me.”

“Anyway, we still should call Uncle Sam. I need to remind him that the encryptions on my new computer need to be top-shelf.” Theresa's jaw ground at the thought of being hoodwinked by another programmer. “With this new gear I'll be able to hack into Bill Gates's pocket protector. No huckster hacker is going to keep me out of Luscious's files.”

She smiled a deliciously evil smile.

“His little empire is coming down.”

•  •  •

Caylin gasped as she peeked between the curtains.

It was a computer room!

The entire right wall was a complex system of spinning, humming, clicking hard drives. An air conditioner
blew frigid air from the ceiling. Several bald techies pecked away on various keyboards or pulled apart circuit boards.

A few feet away Lucien and the man who must have been the head techie were having a heated discussion.

“You have to understand, Mr. West,” he said firmly—placatingly. “No files were compromised. All information is intact.”

“How were they able to break in as far as they did in the first place?” Lucien demanded, his blue eyes flashing.

The techie shrugged. “They were very good.” He smiled in satisfaction. “We were better.”

Lucien smiled back sarcastically. “You were better. Yet you weren't good enough to track this thief down. I need to know where they are if I'm to prevent this from happening again.”

“I can tell you that whoever hacked in was an expert,” Baldie explained, glaring at the computers. “They left no trail. No footprints. But our security programs are quite vicious. The culprits won't be back anytime soon unless they have access to another machine with the
same power.” He grinned. “They got nuked in a big way. Their machines wouldn't even be able to tell them the date and time.”

Caylin smiled. They
had
to be talking about Theresa. She must be furious that they nuked her precious laptop!

Suddenly Lucien got in the man's face, pointing a threatening finger. “You listen to me, Max. If this happens again, I don't just want their computers nuked. I want their location. Do you understand me? These security breaches stop immediately.”

Max nodded his bald head. “I understand. But I need to upgrade the programming. The CIA has some new encryptions that will help. But it'll take some cash. And some contacts.”

“You do whatever you have to do to make those files safe,” Lucien warned. “No one, but no one, must know of my plans. If they find out, we're all out of business.”

Lucien turned toward the curtain.

Caylin sprinted back to the table. She hurdled a cushion and the three steps down to land right where she had been sitting before.

Lucien walked out and took a moment to straighten his robes. Then he calmly strode back to his seat.

Caylin smiled at him and sipped her tea. Her cheeks were red-hot, but in this light she didn't think Lucien would notice.

“Now, beautiful Caylin,” he said brightly. “Where were we?”

Caylin grinned, primed for more info. “Franchises!”

The morning light blasted through the tall windows of the flat. Jo emerged from her room fully dressed and ready to take on the world if need be.

“Yo, T.!” she called.

“In here,” Theresa replied.

Jo found her in the computer room, pecking away on a new laptop. The machine was also hooked into a strange square black box. Theresa's glasses had slid down her nose, and her hair was a snakelike mass. Her flannel pj's and T-shirt were rumpled.

“What's with you?” Jo asked.

Theresa didn't look up from her work. “The computer got here about four in the morning. I couldn't wait to hook it up.”

Jo looked at her watch. “You've been sitting there for
six hours
?”

Theresa scratched her head. “I dunno. You tell me.”

“Okay. You've been sitting there for six hours. Don't you want to get out for a while?” Jo suggested.

“Not a chance.” She furiously typed away. “I've got this sucker on the run. I can feel it.” She patted the black box next to her. “This little puppy can wreak more havoc than a Death Star run by Dennis the Menace.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Well, I'm not going to sit around all day watching you type. I'm heading out for a walk. Do you think maybe we can save the world or something tonight? If the rest of this adventure is all cyberstalking, I'm going home.”

Theresa typed and typed. Her answer was distant, as if she didn't even hear herself speaking. “Sure, okay.”

Why do I bother? Jo wondered. She threw up her arms and left.

Once on the street, Jo headed toward the market district they'd passed through on the rickshaw ride in. The city was bustling. People on bicycles darted in and out of slow-moving traffic. Tourists aimed their cameras and said
“fromage.”
And the whole place generally went about its business.

The market district was about a twenty-minute walk. Once Jo got there, it was unmistakable. The smell of spiced noodles was overpowering. The temperature seemed to rise as the quarters suddenly got very close. Everyone was pushed together, shuffling between rickety tables and drab tents. The tourists didn't look nearly so comfortable here. They browsed, but they were obviously wary of being scammed. They haggled in many different languages but never in the native tongue. The vendors just did their business and tried to get as many bills off the people's piles as possible.