Till Death: Deep Six Security Series Book 1 (16 page)

You’re just asking for a heartache, Susan, she counseled herself.   The aircraft rocked, and Susan whimpered as she grabbed onto the arm rests for dear life, with memories of the hard landing the plane she’d been on as a teenager flashed before her eyes.  She didn’t realize a tear streaked down her face until she tasted the salt on her lips.  Another followed, and she sucked in a shuddering breath to stop them.

“It’s okay, baby, we’re on the ground.  You’re safe now,” Dave said, rubbing her shoulders.  He pried her hand off of the arm rest and laced his fingers through hers.  “Come on, let’s go find us a baby now that we’re married.”

Dave let her hand go to get out first, then put his hands on her waist to help her down to the ground.    It was then she realized they’d landed on the roof of the clinic, and her legs gave out.  She would’ve crumpled to the ground, if Dave’s arm around her back hadn’t held her up. 

“Whoa, Bunny.  Keep your legs under you, sweetheart,” he said with a laugh.

A metal door opened across the roof, and two men in dark suits with slicked back hair walked out.  From the bulges under their jackets, Susan knew they were packing, and she felt a little better about having her own pistol in a thigh holster under her dress.  She knew Dave was armed too.  She’d seen the shoulder holster under his suit when he’d pulled her onto his lap.  That made her feel better as well.  What didn’t make her feel a bit better was the armed guards at every corner of the property in towers and the eight-foot razorwire-topped fence that surrounded the back of the property.  She couldn’t see the front of the property from their vantage point, but she assumed it was equally fortified.  They were inside this place, and would only be able to leave if they were allowed to leave.  One had to wonder why a fertility clinic needed so much security.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence?” the taller of the two men asked, in an accent that showed east coast Italian roots.  The other man, a blonde guy who definitely didn’t fit in the Italian mobster mold, stayed a few steps back, and Susan knew that was so he could keep an eye on everyone including Hawk, who was doing a walk around of the aircraft.

“Yes, and our pilot will be taking off again momentarily.  Our luggage is in the tail section,” Dave said haughtily, and Susan bit back a laugh.  Both men frowned, and she could swear the one closest to them growled.  Logan might not be one of the social elite, but he could damned well pull off acting like one.  Susan could only aspire to his greatness.

“I’ll radio a bagman to come and take your bags to your room,” the dark-haired man closest to them said.  Sticking out his chin, but not his hand, he said, “I’m Mario Beschi, the head of security here at Ardmore.  Dr. Warman asked that we escort you to your suite.  He thought you might want to freshen up before the reception this evening.”

“Well, that was thoughtful of him, but we may not be attending the reception tonight.  My wife isn’t feeling well today,” Logan said with a glance at her. 

Susan caught her eyebrows as they tried to raise and coughed to back up his claim.  She didn’t know what his plan was, but there had to be a reason Logan wanted to skip the meet and greet with the doctor.

The man’s jaw worked, and it was obvious he was angry, but he didn’t let it filter into his voice as he said, “Fine. I’ll pass along your regrets to Dr. Warman.  I’m sure he’ll be disappointed not to have you with the other guests tonight.  If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”

This man wasn’t just the head of security here, he was a gangster of some kind, Susan thought, as she walked beside Dave toward the door across the rooftop.  That fit in with the fortification at the clinic, but surely not their supposed purpose here.  This case was getting more and more curious by the moment, she thought, as she walked through the door being held open by the mobster.  When her foot hit the first step of the staircase, the hair on the back of her neck raised and she stopped, but Logan stepped beside her and put his hand at her lower back to urge her forward.  Something wasn’t right at this clinic, Susan could feel it in the air, and from the tension in Logan’s arm, she knew he felt it too.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Why did you decide we weren’t going to the rec—“ Susan asked Logan as soon as the door of their suite closed behind Mario Beschi, but he held up a finger to shush her.

He reached inside the breast pocket of his suit, and pulled out a small wand.  Susan got it when he started skimming the device over the painting hanging by the fireplace, then methodically made his way all the way around the room.  Logan thought the room might be bugged.  When he stopped beside a large urn filled with palm fronds and frowned, then scanned it down to the base, Susan also figured out he was right.  Reaching around the back of the brass urn, he felt along the bottom, then stood with a small silver disc between his fingers.

“Well, Bunny, I guess you’re going to get your baby soon,” he said with an eye roll.

“Yes I am.  Thank you so much, pookie bear,” she replied in a sickeningly sweet southern drawl, which earned her another eye roll from Logan.  She smiled, and held back the laughter bubbling in her throat.  “I’m sorry you can’t get the, um equipment, to function so we can let nature do the job, but this is probably best anyway.”

Logan’s face flushed, and he raised a brow.  “Yes, and since you’re not exactly in your prime anymore, your eggs are probably dried up raisins now anyway.”  Susan gasped, and he smiled as his eyes raked her.  “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to screw up that beautiful body I paid so much for with stretch marks.  This is definitely a better option all the way around.”

Past her prime?
  The bastard had just called her an old lady.  Logan wasn’t exactly a spring chicken himself.  Susan opened her mouth to blast him, but Logan turned and walked toward the bathroom, as someone, probably the bellman, knocked at the door.  Susan opened the door, the toilet flushed and Logan walked back into the room. 

“Put them in our bedroom,” he said shortly.  “I need a valet to lay out my clothes.” With a look of superiority on his handsome face, Logan walked to sit on the plush sofa in the center of the room.

“We don’t offer valet service, sir.  I’m sorry,” the younger-looking bellman replied as he pushed the cart toward the bedroom.

“Fine, I’ll need you to unpack for us then,” Logan said pompously, inspecting his fingernails.

The kid’s jaw worked, his face flushed, but he nodded.  He opened the bedroom door and pushed the cart inside.  “I don’t want him in my suitcase, Logan!” Susan hissed, as the bedroom door closed.  She sat beside him on the sofa.  “I put my extra ammo in there!”

“You’re packing?” he asked with surprise

“I’m always packing,” Susan replied, with a frustrated sigh.  “I thought you’d realize that.  Your hand was far enough up my skirt in the helicopter.”

“What kind of gun is it?  A derringer?” he asked with a laugh.

“No, it’s a—” she looked toward the bedroom to make sure she wasn’t overheard.  “It’s a subcompact my father gave me…a .38.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed.  “A pea-shooter that will get you killed.”

“No, a perfectly fine weapon that will buy me enough time to get away, and it’s a lot more concealable than that cannon under your arm!”

“Saw that did you?” Logan asked.

“How could I miss it?  How could anyone?  You need a hold gun, Logan, not a bazooka,” Susan said as she got up from the sofa.  “And I need to stop that guy from digging through my suitcase.”

Susan walked into the bedroom in the nick of time  The young bellman had the zipper open halfway around her suitcase.  “I’ll get that, honey,” she drawled. “Log—um David is so high maintenance, and I surely apologize for that.  I’ll unpack for us.”

“I have it ma’am,” he replied pulling the zipper to the end of the track.  Susan jogged over to him in her heels to put her hand over his.  “Really, I have it.”

He looked up at her.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes, she’s very sure,” Logan snarled as he walked through the door.  “Finish unpacking mine and leave us.” His tone, as if he were a king speaking to a lowly servant, grated on Susan’s last nerve.  Ugh, Susan definitely would not put up with that.  She rounded on him.  “Unpack your own damned suitcase, David!  This young man has other things to do!”

“Woman, you need to watch that tongue,” Logan growled.

The bellman pulled his hand from under hers and edged his way toward the door.  “I’ll leave you two now.  If there’s something else you need, just dial 17 on the phone,” he said pivoting at the door and almost sprinting through the suite.  Logan laughed when the door slammed behind the kid.  “That should keep him and his co-workers out of here,” he said.

“You were rude on purpose?”

“Damn, straight.  Word will get around and the staff will leave us alone, so we can do our jobs.”  His attitude sounded like the one she’d adopted at the agency, and Susan could attest the tactic did indeed work. 

“Why did you tell Mario we wouldn’t be at the reception tonight?  You have something planned for us to do?”

“We’ve got some snooping to do, and that would be a good time to do it.  Warman will be tied up entertaining, and most of his security team will be with him. I’d almost bet on it.”

“Why do he and this clinic need so much security? An eight foot fence with guard towers and audio monitoring of guests rooms is a bit of overkill, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it is, and we need to find out why.  We’re here and my curiosity is piqued,” Logan  replied with a shrug.  “I want to get information on the surrogate, but I also want to know what they do here other than breed designer babies.  Slade told me they’re on the feds’ radar, so it must be something not quite above board.”  He scanned the suite again with his eyes.  “Seeing this place, I could definitely believe that.”

Susan was with Logan on that conclusion.  “What I wonder is how a woman with a baby could possibly get past all of this security to escape.”

“She couldn’t without help.  What I’d like to know is why she would need to escape.  If those surrogates are here of their own free will, she should’ve been able to just walk out, without the baby of course.”  He shrugged.  “Who knows?  Maybe she did, and we’re just overthinking things.”  Logan paused a second as if thinking, then looked back at her and smiled. “Bunny, I think you need to go get yourself a massage to help with your headache.  I could use one too.”

“A couples massage?  That’s us getting to work?” Susan asked with a shake of her head.

“You got it, sweet cheeks.  We have a few hours to burn, and that will give us an excuse to look around a little, get the lay of the land.”

An hour later, Susan felt like a noodle, as the excellent massage therapist dug her long, thin fingers into the muscles of her shoulders.  The lavender oil she was using in the massage had relaxed her to the point of being comatose.  For the forty minutes Helga had been working on her, Susan had forgotten everything.  This job, her sister’s problems—hell, she’d almost forgotten her own name.  It amazed her she’d never tried this before now.  Helga hit a sore spot, and Susan gasped, then moaned, as she rubbed out the tension there.

“Those sounds you’re making over there are making me jealous, Bunny,” Logan mumbled with a laugh.  He grunted, and she heard slapping as his male masseuse beat the shit out of him.  Logan deserved to be treated to the meat tenderizer massage special.  He had been a prick to the whole staff, including Vlad his masseuse.  Susan was surprised anyone agreed to give him the service at all.  He’d been that rude.

Of course, in his defense, Logan had to go on the offense to cover their asses when they got caught snooping.  The mysterious wall separating the rear of the grounds from the guest area was just too curious.  Especially since they heard young female voices on the other side through the decorative slots in the stucco wall.  Those female voices were speaking in hushed tones, but Susan recognized they were speaking Russian, and some other language that sounded like Portuguese or Greek, maybe Italian.  She caught a few words they said, but the voices were too faint to hear more than snatches of the conversations.  They decided to try and see what was on the other side, but failed to take into consideration there might be security sweeps down the hall that was blocked by a metal door that said STAFF ONLY, which was protected by keycard entry.  They discovered that quickly, when they were stopped and personally escorted to the spa area by the burly thuggish guard.

The door of the massage room opened, and Susan was jarred out of her Zen state.  She glanced up to see the blonde security guard who had met them on the roof come inside.  He walked up to Helga and whispered to her in Russian. 
Keep them here for thirty minutes more. We need do a security sweep of their room.  Escort them back to their room when you finish
.

Helga nodded, and the guard left.  It was a damned good thing Susan had hidden her gun and ammo in the air vent in the bathroom, and convinced Logan to hide his there as well.  She just had a feeling these people were already onto them somehow.  The room search could just as easily be a result of them getting caught where they shouldn’t have been though.  Or that Logan had flushed the bug in the room down the toilet.  In her mind, she went over what they’d left visible in the room.  Nothing.  The only ID they had were the documents that fit with their cover story, which Dex had given them before they left that morning.  She tried to clear her mind, and relax again, but that wasn’t happening.

Susan rolled onto her side.  “Thank you, Helga.  My headache is gone,” she drawled sweetly.  Susan wanted to get back to their room and see what had been done.  Logan needed to do another bug sweep in the room for sure.  “I’d like to go back to my room for a rest now.”

Susan heard a whack, as Vlad planted a fist in Logan’s back tissue.  “Fuck,” Logan growled sitting up to glare at the masseuse. “Did you go to massage or boxing school?” he asked rubbing his shoulder.

“Sorry, sir.  You asked for deep tissue massage,” Vlad replied in heavily accented English. It was obvious to Susan he was Russian as well.  Russians and Italians?  That was a helluva combination to staff this Texas clinic.  Oh, and throw in the Greek contingency and you had a gathering of the United Nations.  Yeah, something strange was going on here.  It was a very good thing that Susan spoke two of those languages.  Maybe that would help her discreetly find out what was going on here.  The staff didn’t know she could speak five languages fluently, so they’d speak freely around her.  She was a dumb, blonde socialite, as far as they knew.  Docile and submissive to her overtly overbearing husband.  That cover could work in her favor too.

Vlad turned to Helga and told her in Russian that they needed to stall for fifteen more minutes.  Helga cleared her throat. “Would you like some refreshments, Mrs. Lawrence?  Sparkling water with lemon maybe?”

“No, I’m fine,” Susan replied with a smile that made her cheeks hurt. 

They needed to get back to their room now.  Helga looked at Vlad and shrugged, then huffed out a breath.  “We’ll leave you alone to dress.” She walked to the door, and Vlad followed. 

When they walked out, Susan’s gaze swung to Logan, who was slipping into a robe.  She opened her mouth to tell him what she’d overheard, but then scanned the room with her eyes.  If their room was bugged, this one could be as well.  It would have to wait.

Susan slipped into her robe and spa shoes, then draped her clothes over her arm, and picked up her heels.  She spun to see Logan cinching his robe, and tapped him on the shoulder.  “Let’s go, pookie bear,” she said sweetly.  He turned to face her and Susan tapped her ear as she mouthed, “We need to talk.”

Logan’s eyebrows slammed down over his eyes, and he opened his mouth, but just nodded as he walked to the door.  He held it open for her, and, as she expected, Helga and Vlad were waiting for them right outside the door.  While they walked down the hallway, through the high-tech gym, across the richly decorated lobby area, across the lushly planted atrium to finally reach their room, Susan counted at least ten security cameras, and three guards on security rounds.  It was all tastefully done, discreet, but there nonetheless.  Their every move was being watched.

Yeah, there was no way that surrogate could’ve left this compound without help.  Now, they just had to find out who’d helped her.  If they found that person, they could get this case over with, and Susan could focus on her own issues.  Finding out what was going on with Jenna. 

Over the last few days, Susan had tried to call Jenna at least four times, twice before they left the compound this morning.  Her sister hadn’t answered or returned Susan’s calls.  That wasn’t like Jenna. Her sister was responsible.  She always called Susan back.  Always.  Something was wrong, and Susan was going to get to the bottom of exactly what that was just as soon as she got back to Dallas.  Whether Jenna wanted to tell her or not.

Susan twisted the knob on the suite door, and it opened.  It was locked when they left, she had locked it herself, verification they’d had visitors.  Logan dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipped it open and extracted two one-hundred-dollar bills.  He handed one bill to Helga and the other to Vlad.  They took the money, but still hovered, looking nervous. 

“That will be all,” Logan said, pushing open the door and nudging her inside.  He all but slammed the door in their faces, before he turned to face her.  “What is it?”

Susan put her finger over her mouth, and waved like she was scanning with the device he’d used earlier.  Logan nodded, went to the bedroom and came back out looking pissed.  He mouthed a curse, then walked over to grab her arm.  “I need to get this disgusting oil off of me.  We need a shower,” he growled as he dragged her toward the bathroom.