Page 33 of Assassin's Prey
I grabbed Abby’s arm. “Let’s go.”
But she pulled against my grip. “I have an idea,” she said, the spark of determination in her eyes spelling trouble.
I growled, that look putting me on high alert. “Abby, no—”
But she was already walking toward him. And I was getting angrier with every step she took closer to my enemy.
“Mr. Chadwick!”
I almost did a double take. The Abby I knew was the real woman, not the plastic, professional hostess her father had forced her to become before I kidnapped her. That old Abby slid over her skin like a mask, making her more remote and yet somehow more friendly. Fake. It was so fucking wrong it made my skin crawl.
And then Chadwick turned around, his gaze searching. And met mine over Abby’s shoulder.
Green looked good on him. At least from my perspective. I doubted he felt the same.
Good.
“Mr. Chadwick,” Abby said again. “I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.”
The man standing with him gave us a nod, walking away with a promise to call later. Chadwick managed to push back his anxiety and blank his expression.
“I am sorry; do I know you?” he asked pleasantly enough.
Good one. I almost believed it.
“I’m Abigail Roslyn,” she answered, sounding like she was in a tea parlor rather than facing down a man who’d ordered her murder, the destruction of her house. “I was a longtime client of Lance Heinz, as was my father.”
“Of course, of course.” He extended his hand, and I clamped down tight on the instinct to crush it before he could make contact with my woman.
“I wanted to express my condolences,” Abby said, extricating herself from his touch quickly yet politely. It was a good thing she possessed an abundance of social skills; from the way Chadwick kept glancing at me and the rigid feel of my face, I had basically zero social skills on display.
Which was just the way I liked it.
“Losing a partner of so many years must be difficult,” she was saying. “I’m not sure if you remember, but we’ve met a couple of times. When I was much younger.”
“Of course.” It seemed to be the only response he could give. That and a smile that was all teeth. “How could I forget such a lovely young woman?”
I managed to keep the growl in my chest right where it was. Barely.
“Lance was a great fan of your father’s,” Chadwick finally managed to get out.
“Yes, he contacted me recently. About some accounts I needed to look over. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to meet with him about them before he died.”
I gritted my teeth.
“Whom might I speak with now that he has passed?” she asked.
Over my dead body,I wanted to say but didn’t. Those accounts didn’t exist; we’d determined that much. And Chadwick would know that as well as we did. She was baiting the tiger, looking for a slipup.
Too bad for her that the animal snarling silently behind her had every intention of punishing her for putting herself in danger later. The rest of me waited avidly for Chadwick’s response, damn it.
“Ah.” He glanced between the two of us, never quite meeting my eyes, but I didn’t think that was wholly nerves. No, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from me if I was able to look into his eyes. “As you can imagine, the suddenness of my partner’s death has left things in a bit of chaos. Manassas and I are doing what we can to take up the slack, but it will be a few weeks before we will have everything in order.”
A few weeks as in, right after my thirtieth birthday. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Chadwick hadn’t questioned who I was, nor introduced himself.
Was Manassas the other man I’d seen at the mansion? I made a mental note to look him up when we got back to the safe house.
“The way Lance talked, the matter was somewhat urgent,” Abby pointed out. “Perhaps I should check in with the accountant instead.”
