Page 43 of Falling Fast

A slight smile quirked his mouth. “Your directness is so refreshing, Charlie,” he said, and released the knob, leaving the door cracked open a few inches. “Better?”

It surprised her that he’d allowed it. “Yes,” she said, and raised the beer glass to her lips once again, aware that her hand was unsteady.

Although an open door didn’t necessarily mean she was safe. The four guards between them and the next floor were paid to follow his orders. They wouldn’t let anyone else down here and might not come running even if she started screaming.

“Where’s the collection?” She glanced around the spacious room, unable to see any other doors.

“In a special room I had designed,” he answered, and started toward her with purposeful strides.

Her fingers tightened around the cold glass, the breath hitching in her lungs.

But he merely brushed past her and walked straight to the wall opposite the desk. Again he accessed a secret panel, input a code and then scanned his palm.

A door snicked open to her left.

She half-turned toward it, watched in amazement as Baker pushed the heavy wooden panel open and reached inside to flick on a light switch to reveal a large room stacked floor-to-ceiling with museum quality display cases full of antique weapons. “Wow,” she said, the sharp bite of fear fading a little, though the wooziness remained.

“I thought you’d like that,” he murmured, smiling to himself as he turned away again and crossed to the opposite side of the room this time. “Just one more thing before I show it to you.”

Charlie remained where she was, watching his every move. This time he slid aside a section of bookcase to reveal a safe set into the wall. Her pulse thudded in her ears while he turned the dial on the combination lock.

He reached inside and began to pull something out. She tensed, ready to react if he pulled out a weapon and tried to threaten her—

The laptop.

For a moment, she stared at it in disbelief, then even through the fog clouding her brain she realized she could be giving herself away and tore her gaze off it. She stood there as he placed it on his desk, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing.

“Just need to check something real quick,” he said, booting it up.

Now what? She’d expected to have to coax him into it somehow. How to play this casually, so as not to arouse his suspicion?

Aware that she was in his peripheral vision, she took another sip of beer. There was no reason not to because she’d watched him get it, had seen that nothing was put in it.

Stepping closer to the desk, she went to sit the glass down. She pretended to hesitate, looking at the clean surface of the desk before opening her clutch and pulling out the shawl she’d tucked inside, used it as a sort of coaster.

From her position she was less than three feet away from the laptop. It should be close enough.

Trying to ignore the way her heart smashed against her ribs with each frantic beat, she took out the lip-gloss and casually slicked it across her mouth even though her lips felt numb at the moment. The fear almost paralyzed her but she pushed through it, activated the hidden button on the case.

When she looked up, her heart seized. Baker was watching her closely. Too closely. She put on a polite half-smile and straightened.

He kept staring. As though waiting for something to happen. Then he glanced down at her clutch lying on the desk.

Her heart nearly pounded its way out of her chest as that shrewd gaze lifted to hers once more. “You’re pale,” he murmured. “Something wrong?”

The edge to his tone set off every warning bell in her brain.

Don’t panic. You can’t panic. Think. You have to be smart, think your way through this.

“I don’t feel so well,” she mumbled, and she wasn’t lying.

“No?” he sat there, his posture and expression reminding her of a cat watching a mouse it was about to pounce on.

A chill raced up her back as he reached across the desk for her purse.

She almost bolted for the door. It took all her remaining courage to stand there and face whatever came next.

He looked inside her purse and withdrew the lip-gloss. Turned it this way and that in his fingers. “You tend to use this when you’re nervous, I’ve noticed.” That chilling stare rose to hers once more. “What would you possibly have to be nervous about, now that I’ve left the door open, I wonder?”

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