Redeem My Heart (8 page)

“Early ’05.” Ryland focused on Fallon, but he could feel the heat of Jax and Townes’ stares. Did they really think he would be bothered by their hatred? “He was efficient. There’s really nothing more to say. He’s been out of the business for a good eight years. He presents no threat to anyone that matters.”

“Dane Moza just came out of retirement.” Crest’s statement was rather a surprise, but it made sense. With Neoni out of the game as well as Yvette, there was no one of the caliber needed for carefully planned professional assassinations. Ryland had been the go-to until Crest had made it his mission to be a nuisance. “Coincidently enough, all contracts placed on him have been removed.”

“Moza wasn’t part of this E.D.A. you keep droning on about. From my understanding he was recruited early on in his life by an organized crime outfit. He was born and raised in Romania before his family immigrated to the United States. His real name is Dacia, but his parents thought Dane would make him fit in better with the other children.” Ryland figured he wasn’t telling Crest anything he didn’t already know, but it did show that he was cooperating. He even motioned toward the thicker file. “I’ll go through that later this evening after Fallon and I enjoy a nice dinner by the fireplace.”

Fallon had just taken a sip of water out of the glass in her hand when his words evidently caught her by surprise. She struggled to catch her breath when her throat closed off, thus prompting a coughing fit. She used the back of her hand to cover her mouth and shot him a somewhat offensive glare when she’d gained her composure. He had only been stating facts.

“You haven’t asked why Moza came out of retirement,” Crest pointed out needlessly. Ryland shrugged, ignoring the slight edge of curiosity that made itself known. “Or how I know this.”

“I’m sure he had his own reasons,” Ryland replied, noticing that Jax had received a phone call that prompted him to leave the room. Interesting. “This is one of the problems we have as individuals. We’re always concerned about what others are doing. I imagine it’s his own business.”

“Moza killed the Greek Finance Minister this morning,” Crest declared with full assurance that Ryland would fathom the reason. “His M.O. was identified by the type of bullet used. He was known in the day to manufacture his own ammo, and it appears that his reloading days aren’t a thing of the past anymore. I’d say Fallon is onto something with E.D.A. showing signs of life, wouldn’t you, Ryland?”

“Moza, like me, never cared about the reasons for the contracts and you’re well aware of that.” Ryland loosened his tie, contemplating changing into more casual clothes considering this is where he’d be stuck for the time being. “We take the job, research the means within the particular confines of the specific contract, and then follow through to the satisfaction of the employer. No questions needed.”

It was noteworthy though. The Greek Finance Minister’s death spoke volumes in regards to the diplomatic fallout. Ryland kept up on world affairs as anything political influenced his travel plans, at least back in the day. Old habits die hard, which was the sole reason he was aware that the Greek Finance Minister opposed the EU bailout. With the EU so closely tied to the U.S. dollar, it only made sense to eliminate the sole threat to such a disastrous economic decision.

“Greece’s Deputy Minister will take over now and it won’t be a surprise when the bailout goes through without any outstanding issues.” Crest sorted through some papers in front of him, pulling one out and handing it to Fallon. She’d been relatively quiet, allowing Crest to take the lead for a short time. “Fallon?”

“What can you tell us about this Gene Cyril?”

Ryland stared into those knowingly beautiful blue eyes, not appreciating the trap Fallon was setting for him. Cy had been severely injured when a job had gone south and the FSB had gotten the upper hand. Ryland had gone in to clean up the mess that Cy had been left behind, succeeding on the very first occasion that the target ventured out. Was she hoping for an admission? He’d already been pardoned for his so-called crimes, so there was no reason to rehash the old days. As for Cy, rumor had it that the man had succumbed to his wounds on some veterinarian’s table in Eastern Europe.

“Gene Cyril is dead.”

“Then explain this.” Fallon slid the paper toward him and the momentum carried it most of the way. Ryland didn’t touch it, but recognized that a picture had been printed off of the portable printer next to Crest’s laptop. Gene Cyril was easily recognizable in the photo. “Cy, as he goes by, was seen in Rome. This picture was taken by an SISMI agent who is assigned to Pier Carlo Padoan. Coincidence?”

Ryland forced a small smile while he mentally went over all the facts he’d been given regarding Cy. No one had ever disputed his death and it was evident now that the assassin had successfully gone off the grid for many, many years to avoid attention from the various security services. What was making him come out of retirement? Ryland didn’t want to hear about E.D.A., because that wasn’t even a real consideration. He was, and always had been, aware of his motivations and subsequent actions.

“I can’t speak for Gene Cyril,” Ryland said, standing and ignoring the fact that Townes had taken a step away from the French doors in preparation to do his job—keeping up as Ryland’s shadow. That would certainly put a damper on the plans for this evening, but so be it. “I’m sure the two of you have a lot of work to do this afternoon, so if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to change into something a little more comfortable before making myself something to eat. I’m hoping the kitchen has been properly stocked. I would hate to have to do the shopping too. You’re welcome to join me after I’ve determined what we have on hand.”

Ryland heard Crest order Townes to let him go, which was a smart move. He would only put up with that type of scrutiny for so long before doing something about it. He’d already made the Calvert family suffer and there was no need to add to their grief. Ryland wasn’t sure what Crest had hoped to gain by bringing in Townes, but it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.

For now, Ryland had seen and heard enough details regarding E.D.A. that it would befit him to look into the covert organization on his own. He had contacts that Crest didn’t and vice versa. He walked behind Fallon’s chair, her Chanel perfume drifting up into the air as he passed by to continue into the parlor where Jax had apparently just wrapped up his phone conversation.

Neither man spoke to one another, no words needed. Ryland stepped into the foyer and collected his bags, proceeding up the staircase. The runner was trimmed in gold which brought out the yellow hues of the carpet restrained to each tread with a solid polished brass rod. Fallon’s grandparents had excellent taste and the collection of antique furniture displayed in the upstairs hallway confirmed that.

Multiple bedrooms doors were within view and Ryland stopped briefly, considering carefully which one was Fallon’s. She would want access to the stairs and be in position to protect those she loved. An agent was ingrained to think a certain way and Fallon was no exception. Sure enough, he chose correctly and quietly closed the door behind him.

The room was paneled in early American copies of Edwardian oak balustrade and French boiserie panels. It was a complex combination that recreated the Revolutionary American period rather well in this room. Fallon’s high heels were next to an upholstered settee that matched the light color of the room.

Ryland set his bags in the open area just inside the walk-in closet, the air wafting with the perfume he’d breathed in moments before. He opened the one piece of luggage where there was certain items he’d secured for purposes that would come in handy later on. He pulled open the hidden cavity to retrieve a secure satellite phone. It was time to make contact with the one person who would have the answers he sought.

Chapter Six

“G
oodnight.”

Fallon closed the door behind Crest and Jax, left to her own devices with Townes sitting by the fireplace and Ryland somewhere inside the house with the dossiers that she’d asked him to look over earlier. The rest of the afternoon hadn’t revealed much in the way of ascertaining who was behind the recent revival of E.D.A., but they now had the whereabouts of the two men they had determined to be among the first research subjects of the program. Fallon had suggested bringing in a clinical psychiatrist, but Crest had immediately shut down her suggestion saying that it would only aggravate Ryland and potentially cause him to become uncooperative. Someone could always be brought in at a later date if she could bring Ryland around to their way of thinking…no pressure, of course.

Townes had a book in his hand. The cover was leather-bound and from what she could make out she would have said it was a classic novel, but it was hard to imagine he’d be interested in that type of literature. She realized he must have found it in her father’s library. Fallon’s job for the FBI was crafting profiles of individuals, not technically making judgments, but she only had his physical features to make such a conclusion. Adding in his eclectic taste of clothes and his keen intellect—she’d reasonably deduced that he was probably close to genius level—therefore, it would follow that he had a fondness for history.

“The refrigerator is full, so please help yourself,” Fallon said, walking into the formal living room. She slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, wanting to seek out Ryland but needing to clarify a couple of things with Townes first. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying with us twenty-four/seven. That’s fine, but please give me room to speak with Ryland in private. He won’t open up to me if he thinks that he’s being watched by an agent under the direction of your boss.”

“You won’t even know I’m on the premises,” Townes replied, his gravelly voice carrying across the room and letting Fallon know that his promise wasn’t necessarily true. He was impossible to ignore, but she would take his word at face value. He finally lifted his dark grey eyes to meet hers. “He’s out on the back patio if you were wondering where he’d gone off to.”

Fallon wasn’t in the least surprised that Townes had known Ryland’s exact location. She nodded, figuring she could go over the other items on her list with Townes later. She wasn’t sure where he planned to sleep, but there were numerous bedrooms upstairs. She had a feeling that he would be on whatever level of the house that Ryland occupied, but she hadn’t seen a bag or anything in any of the other rooms.

“Thank you.” Fallon quietly left Townes to his book, wondering if he was actually reading the words on the pages or if he was only feigning interest as he monitored her and Ryland’s movements. It
was
what he was hired to do. She made her way through the house until she reached the center set of French doors and walked outside without hesitation. She wouldn’t get far if she gave in to her trepidation now. “Ryland?”

“You should have a jacket. The chill off the water is encroaching from the point.” Ryland lightly reprimanded Fallon, causing her to raise an eyebrow in question. He wasn’t dressed in one either, but he always looked good in the clothes he was wearing. There was no denying the man was handsome in the classic manner of a European gentleman. His black hair was perfectly combed back and his clothes were always immaculately pressed. At the moment he was sporting a pair of khaki pants with a light blue dress shirt underneath a cardigan navy knit sweater. “You’ll catch something and infect us all. It’s only going to get cooler.”

It was cold, but they wouldn’t be out here too long if Fallon had her way. They still had business to attend to. The large deck was painted white, with outdoor furniture that really should have been placed in storage a while ago. She was glad that her parents had yet to have the property manager winterize the house as part of his fall to-do list, or maybe they’d even forgotten, but it didn’t matter now. She took a seat on one of the cushioned rockers, crossing her arms and swaying the chair with her foot.

“What did you want to speak to me privately about earlier?” Fallon asked, watching Ryland closely. He hadn’t turned on the patio lights, but the moonlight was bright enough to light up the area. The dossiers were set in front of him on the table, along with what looked like a tumbler glass from the inside bar. The liquid appeared dark and she assumed it was his favorite brand of whiskey, but she questioned if he’d had time to pack it. “I apologize that I didn’t make time previously, but we had significant material to go over.”