Killer Daddy, page 5
The address itself didn’t have much information to offer. A search of property titles showed the owner as a corporation. A shell that led to another shell and another.
Always a good indication of shady dealings. But she wasn’t here to bust anyone’s chops. Her mission was to get inside the property and locate the stolen artifact, then extract it if possible. Not her usual kind of mission, but for the money it would pay…seemed simple enough.
Of course, there was a reason the client hired pros. Getting in wouldn’t be easy. The security was tight. Even if Audrey managed to pass the doorman, then the guard, the main elevator didn’t go to the penthouse suite. The top floor had its own cab, and the access to it appeared severely restricted.
Legs crossed on her motel bed, she perused the safeguards. The penthouse elevator required express permission. Should someone gain access and try to use it, the elevator would simply shut down, locking the person inside.
As to other points of ingress, the rooftop appeared too secured, patrolled at all times by two armed guards along with motion sensors attached to an alarm. Disarming them would prove difficult given half of them weren’t on a network, meaning she couldn’t hack in and turn them off.
Suction cupping her ass up the side of the building was something they only did in movies. So what did that leave?
She’d need to find a way to get invited inside. Having already perused who was given permission in the last month to enter, she’d already spotted a possibility.
Tomorrow night, she’d exploit it. As for the rest of this evening…
She tuned in to the wireless transmitter embedded in Harper’s diaper bag, which tapped into Hood’s home camera network. Because his paranoia didn’t extend to just windows and doors, but inside, too. Still, it suited her purpose. She had eyes inside his loft. She didn’t think of it as spying, more like ensuring the safety of her daughter.
As she flipped through the lenses, she stopped at the living room. She couldn’t help but smile at the man asleep on the couch, a baby sprawled atop him.
Enjoy it while you can. Because once the mission was done, he’d never see Harper again.
Chapter Six
Overnight bag in hand, Edith knocked at the loft door bright and early the next morning. When Mr. Hood flung it open—shirtless, hair standing on end, his eyes bloodshot—she tried not to smirk.
“Good morning,” she chirped.
He growled. “Not really.”
“Rough night?”
“What gave it away?”
“Don’t give me attitude. You only have yourself to blame. You could have had me start last night.”
“I foolishly believed the expression ‘sleep like a baby.’ It’s a lie,” he announced, stepping aside to allow her entry. “Babies don’t sleep. But they sure can holler.”
“Where’s Harper?” Edith asked as she entered and set down her stuff. “I don’t hear her crying.”
“Not now, she isn’t.” He sounded quite indignant. “She’s sleeping.”
“Still?” The sun had risen over an hour ago. And most babies tended to rise with it.
“Not still, more like finally. Thought I was doing pretty good. She went to bed at like seven last night, then she was up at eleven and wanted to play. Then she cried and didn’t go to sleep until around three.” He sounded so disgruntled that Edith had to bite her lip lest she smile at his misery.
“Your first mistake was putting her to bed at seven.”
He bristled at her rebuke. “She’s a kid. I thought they needed to go to bed early.”
“Did she have an afternoon nap?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you needed to keep her up later. Probably until at least nine or so. Didn’t the mother leave you any instructions?”
“Ha. As if that unfit bi—er, woman would do something so smart.”
“Are you sure?” Edith passed by him, ignoring the naked chest as she beelined to the diaper bag. She went through the main pocket first, then the side ones, finally emerging with a sheet of paper. She waved it. “Found it.”
“Give me that.” He grabbed the typed instructions and groaned. “Her bedtime is nine thirty, and she’s only supposed to nap for two hours max in the afternoon.”
“Now you know.”
He shoved the list back at her. “Don’t you mean, you know? I hired you to take care of Harper. I have to get ready for work. I’m already late.”
“What do you do?”
“Real estate agent.”
A surprising job for a man built like an underwear model. Edith couldn’t help but watch as he stalked towards the bathroom, his track pants hanging low on his hips, his back as muscular as his front.
Sigh. He was quite handsome; however, sleeping with the boss wasn’t part of the job. Harper was. Since the baby slept, Edith bustled around, noticing the playpen, the fact that there was one of his shirts in the pen with the baby—who cutely enough held it tucked under her chin. A package of diapers was torn open, and a few scattered. There was more baby powder sprinkling the place than left in the bottle. He’d also gone through just about all the wet wipes.
Edith made a mental list of things she’d need to grab when she and the baby went out. In the meantime, she washed bottles and hung them to drip-dry. She tidied up the pillows on the floor and straightened the chairs, all the while keeping a closer eye on the bathroom door than the baby. The baby would give her warning when she woke, the man…he had a way of walking lightly, more predator than real estate broker.
It made her wonder if he’d done boxing or some other kind of sport before he turned into a yuppie. He obviously worked out because no one got that kind of physique pushing paper all day.
Upon seeing the door to the bathroom crack open, she whirled, pretending to be busy at the counter rather than be caught staring.
“Do you need a rundown of my place before I take off?” his deep voice asked from behind her. Closer than expected. Turning, she saw him standing by the massive island—the butcher block a gleaming hunk of wood that obviously hadn’t seen too many chopping knives.
“I should be fine. It’s not like you have many places to hide things.”
For some reason, that made him smirk. “You’d be surprised. Here’s my number if you need me.” From the jacket pocket of his slick gray suit, he slid a business card. Bad Boy Inc.: Specialists in international realty. The logo was cute. A James Bond-esque fellow with a gun inside a bullseye.
“I’m sure Harper and I will be fine. I could use a key, though.”
“Why would you need a key?” He frowned. “You aren’t going to leave the baby alone are you?”
“Of course, not. But we might want to go for a walk. Or to run errands.”
“Speaking of errands, remember that baby sh—stuff you said I needed? Mind grabbing it if you go out?” he asked. “Gonna need more stuff for Harper. Toys. Clothes. Food.”
“I thought this was only temporary.” For some reason, she couldn’t help but tease him.
“Probably, but in the meantime, I’m gonna need more than diapers. The powdered milk and I kind of had an accident last night. I don’t have much left. And Harry was saying I should get a teething thing for her to chew on. He says it will make her happy.”
“I can do that, but it will take money.”
“No problem. I’ll leave you my card. And here’s a key.” He opened a kitchen drawer and tossed a key with a plastic fob marked FRONT. “The alarm code can be disabled with PITA.”
“PITA?”
“It stands for pain in the ass. I had it created for my buddy to keep an eye on my place when I go out of town.”
“Nice friend you are.”
“The best. The type you can call to hide the body.” He winked.
“When will you be back?”
He shrugged. “Depends on how my day goes. Got a new client, and he’s a bit of a prima donna. Good news is I’ve got nothing out of town for the next little bit.”
“So home by dinner at the latest then?”
“Yeah.”
“And am I staying the night to help you with Harper?”
For some reason, the question made his nostrils flare. “No. Not tonight, at any rate. But I might need you later this week. I’ve got an evening open house scheduled.”
“Sounds good. Have fun at work.”
She waved, and he again got the strangest expression on his face, a look that softened as he peeked into the playpen at the sleeping baby. More surprising, he reached in and stroked Harper’s cheek. Someone was getting a little more attached than he wanted.
Then he was gone, and Edith sighed in relief. There was something about having him so close that frazzled her nerves. A bad thing since she couldn’t afford to be frazzled.
She had a job to do.
The morning was spent doing simple domestic things like washing some clothes—mostly to ensure that Harper had some clean things since her bag showed no spares left. When the baby woke, after a feeding—and a poop that made the eyes water—Edith bathed her and dressed Harper in the now clean clothes.
Done, Edith looked around. The place was tidy. The baby fresh as a daisy and ready to go out.
“Oopsie, baby girl. Looks like someone forgot to leave us his credit card.” Tucking the baby into the chest sling with an extra blanket tucked around her to keep warm, Edith pocketed the key and the business card. She then grabbed her shoulder bag before leaving the loft.
Time to pay Mr. Hood a visit at his office.
Chapter Seven
The murmur of voices didn’t draw Declan’s attention from the screen. He was going over his new client file. But none of it involved the specs on the condo listing that had landed in his lap. He was digging into the man himself. The owner.
Name of Suarez—which he’d bet was an alias given the lack of history. The man only began to exist on paper a few years ago. Didn’t go public until the purchase of the condo, which had been the dormant property of a shell company for over a decade.
Too many shady things going on at once. Not that Declan told Harry of his suspicions. His boss would blame him for being bored. Would assume the lull in missions had Declan looking for conspiracies that only partially existed.
His boss would be right. Declan just bided his time until his next real job. In the meantime, it never hurt to hone his skills and maybe discover something that should be handled before it caused a problem in his town.
Suarez wasn’t all he seemed. Deep digging hadn’t yet revealed any other names, nor could he find him associated with anything, and that in and of itself, raised a red flag.
From the records he could access, Declan knew age—thirty-seven—which matched the man’s appearance. Five foot eleven inches with tanned skin, a bleached-white smile, aquiline nose, and dark hair. A good-looking bloke who’d not been associated with any women, or men. Yet he had a cool confidence that should make him a magnet. The lack of companionship was especially surprising for a man who believed in dressing sharp.
Suarez always wore white, collared shirts and dark suits, from a smoky gray to pure black, all custom-tailored fits. He topped it off with matte-black leather shoes. The man oozed wealth from the things he ate—prepared by a chef, and with names mere mortals wouldn’t recognize—to the cars he drove or which were driven for him. Bulletproof, of course. The man took no chances with his safety, which meant he relied on background-checked staff. All his people went through a vigorous screening, and he paid them well to be loyal.
From what Declan could discern, Suarez kept a chauffeur on staff, along with a housekeeper, chef, personal trainer, and a cadre of bodyguards—who resembled Russian gorillas in suits. Suarez hired them big. It, and the security measures in his home and office—which he rarely visited—spoke to a deep paranoia. Paranoid people usually had a reason to believe someone would harm them. Guilt had a way of riding someone’s back.
Despite not working for any branch of government, by all appearances, Suarez was closely linked to a few offices. Since appearing on Declan’s radar a few days ago, he’d managed to get wind of two lunch meetings, one dinner, and several government-labeled sedans visiting the condo.
Now, some people would say if Suarez were crooked, then why not just kill him? A simple solution that would only destroy the head of the snake. Like a hydra, another would take its place. Ending a criminal empire took more than the death of just one man. Declan needed to dismantle the operation.
So much fun, and what a stroke of luck that Suarez had approached Bad Boy Inc. to act as his realtor. Then again, BBI’s cover as a prestigious realty company was actually true. They did big property deals around the world. It gave them an excuse to travel. Also, the amount of zeroes on the commission checks that he declared to Uncle Sam and paid a shit ton of taxes on made him smile. Not bad for a kid whose only prospect once upon a time was avoiding jail before he turned twenty-five.
Now, he kind of did well. While BBI provided services that some might consider extreme, there were some that Declan was quite proud of. Missions to discredit dictators. The removal of a drug lord breaking a chain of supply—for a while at any rate. The drug trade always came back.
They got evidence on big corporation owners hiding money not only from the government—not paying their share—but also from their shareholders and employees.
Times like those, Declan’s name proved apt. I am Mr. Hood, taking from the rich and spreading it around. After lining his pocket first.
His pockets were getting pretty full. BBI ran a slick business with Harry at the helm.
Surely, Harry wouldn’t protest too much when Declan took down Suarez. Especially if Declan sold the condo first and collected their fee.
Five percent of fifteen million equaled lots of zeros.
Declan flipped through the tiny file on Suarez and frowned. So little to go on. He needed to dig up more dirt. At least having Suarez as a client gave Declan access to Suarez’s home. Not that he’d been able to search it yet. They’d signed the contract in a restaurant and done only a single walk-through of the place. Since then, they’d only communicated by email and phone.
But there is the open house coming up. Maybe he’d get a chance to snoop a bit.
Another thing that bugged him was why Suarez was even selling. Not for money. By all indications, the man had a bottomless well of it. He’d owned the condo for a year. Appeared to really like it, and now wanted to sell it? No mention of moving away or downsizing. Just a simple command to, “List it for fifteen million and be advised I won’t take one penny less.”
On arrogance alone, Declan wanted to take the guy down a notch. But for that, they’d have to meet. In the meantime, he planned. He worked on a way to disable the security cameras inside the condo. Hard to search when eyes watched. He’d yet to find a way into the network to disable them.
Later this week, he might get a chance. He was supposed to hit Suarez’s condo to discuss details of the open house, an event that Suarez had insisted on and took way too much interest in. During that meeting, Declan planned to take pictures for the listing. He’d be getting more than that, though. His camera didn’t just take regular images, but thermal, electronic, even sound waves. By the time he was done and had it all analyzed, he’d know how many spiders lived inside the walls.
Declan flipped through the file, making mental notes of things to check when Ben popped his head into his office and yelled, “Boo!”
“Fucker!”
Ben, the office joker, who stood taller that most football players with a dark complexion and wide smile, grinned at him. “You should thank me. You’ve been sitting too long. Need to get that blood pumping, especially now that you need to keep up with a kid.”
“How did you…?” Declan groaned. “Harry.”
“Don’t blame the boss man. Wasn’t him that spilled the beans, bro.” Ben jerked his head. “Your baby momma is here with the kid.”
“What?” Jumping from his seat, Declan vaulted over his desk and lunged to the door. He glanced down the hall and let out a gusty breath as he saw Edith, her brown ponytail bobbing. For a moment, he’d thought the real mother had made an appearance. Which led to a quick feeling of relief—and, oddly, disappointment. Despite the sleepless night, the kid had her cute moments. Like when he’d held her, and she’d patted his cheeks before chewing on his chin. “That’s not the baby’s mother. It’s my nanny.”
“She’s hot. I can see why you hired her.”
Yeah, he’d noticed. “I hired her because she was the best qualified.” And the only one available without skeletons in her closet. Which in retrospect seemed strange.
“Sure she was,” Ben said, nodding, a placating grin on his face.
“Just because you hired your last contractor because he looked good in jeans and a toolbelt, doesn’t mean everyone makes decisions based on looks.”
“Don’t disparage the methods, bro. He looked even better with only that toolbelt on.” Ben winked and leered.
“And how is that kitchen reno going?” Declan asked with a smirk.
That brought a scowl. “The new guy says I’m about a month away. They had to tear out most of what Adam did.”
“Next time, before you seduce the help, make sure they finish the job.”
“Says the guy who forgot to wear a rubber.”
“I wore a rubber,” Declan yelled. Only to flush as Edith suddenly appeared behind Ben.
“Am I interrupting? The lady at the front said you weren’t busy.”
“He’s not. I was just leaving,” Ben announced.
Edith stepped inside, and Declan noticed that she was missing something. “Where’s Harper?”
“The receptionist at the front insisted on holding her.”
“Wendy? Charles won’t like that. She’s been bugging him to pop the question.”
“Is that the guy with glasses and beard? Because he’s been playing peek-a-boo with the baby for a few minutes now.”
“Actually, that sounds like Mason.” Who would have thought their resident single guy would show an interest?
