Page 304 of The Black Trilogy

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Except in a moment of clarity, I suddenly did. The drugs. It had to be the drugs. This guy had money, he had connections, and when he killed Black, it was with a flair for the dramatic, a trait not uncommon among drug lords who wanted to send a message telling everyone not to mess with them.

So while I’d insisted I wanted everybody to avoid any trouble, I’d spent the last week inadvertently stirring it up all by myself. Oh, sugar honey iced tea.

A distorted cackle came down the line. “I wish I could say I believed you, but I don’t. Happy birthday, Ms. Black. I hope you like your surprise.”

Everything came together in my head. I had something in the woods and a grumpy drug lord with a penchant for heavy weapons on the phone. Fifty bucks said my latest birthday surprise wouldn’t come neatly wrapped in a gift box.

But no matter. I was going to dish out a few surprises of my own. Happy birthday to me. I reached out to the keyboard in front of me, starting to type even as I answered.

“A surprise? For me? How thoughtful. I’m sure I’ll love it.” I wanted to keep my nemesis on the phone if possible. One, I’d just started a trace, and two, I had a feeling that as soon as he got off the line, he’d press the “go” button on whatever he had planned.

“In that case, you’ll be pleased to hear I put many hours of careful thought into it.”

My fingers flew over the keys, switching the security system into red mode and sending out an alert to the necessary Blackwood employees that we were under attack and they should go to the nearest place of safety.

“That’s so sweet of you. Nobody here even remembered my birthday until my assistant reminded them this morning. It’s so special that you thought of me all the way from your cave, or your evil lair, or whatever you call it.”

“I prefer the term estate.”

“Estate. Or Hacienda?” I took a stab in the dark. Was he from South America?

“Hacienda will do, I suppose.”

“Wow! You must be loaded.”

“I’ve done very well for myself, yes.”

“I’m not surprised. Look at your qualities—creative, tenacious, charming. Oh, and modest. Don’t forget modest.”

I had two more backup control rooms booting up and coming online. Nothing on the trace yet. The Richmond office messaged back to say they were commencing lockdown procedures and would await further instructions.

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?”

“Me, sarcastic? Never.”

“Oh, I think you are. I also think you’re stalling. Goodbye, Ms. Black.”

Son of a motherless goat.

The phone clicked as he hung up, followed almost immediately by the guardhouse exploding in a ball of flames. I heard the boom, and the screen showing the interior of the main room dissolved into fuzz. Another camera in the grounds filmed the blazing remains lighting up the night sky.

Well, the man was obsessed with his freaking grenades, wasn’t he? Anger gave my adrenaline a kick start and heat flooded through my veins. I only hoped Seth and Mick saw my message in time and got into the bunker below the building before it blew up.

By now, everyone in the movie theatre would be on their way to safety, so I hit the button to bring down a steel shutter in the doorway to the control room. The walls were already reinforced. That room was full of complicated and expensive equipment, so I wanted to keep it intact if I could. It would be a pain to replace, although ultimately it was all disposable. Everything was except our lives.

Six steps took me to the wall, where I stared into an iris scanner disguised as an intercom. A panel slid back, revealing a narrow staircase going up and down. I went down.

The beauty of designing a house from scratch is that a person is only limited by their imagination, modern construction materials, and how much money they’re willing to spend. Thanks to an innovative architect, a bunch of confidentiality clauses, and a truckload of cash, Black and I had incorporated some interesting features, none of which appeared on the plans we’d filed.

With a house as big as mine, it was easy to miss little bits of lost space. Maybe a gap between two walls just wide enough for an extra staircase, or a room a tad smaller than the outside dimensions would suggest. Thanks to a hastily constructed wall, we’d hidden from the planning inspectors the fact that the basement extended far beyond the house, and the tunnel boring machines we’d employed moved in and out under cover of darkness.

Oh yes, I loved birthday surprises.

CHAPTER 3

LUKE DIDN’T REALLY get American football. Why did everything take so long? He wasn’t that keen on English football either, or soccer as everyone here called it, but at least they got on with it. The Yanks spent more time standing around than actually playing.

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