Выбрать главу

“I’m guessing most of them are Latham’s men. A typical show of power. I don’t imagine people call him the king of St. Cajetan for nothing.”

“You should see his house,” Deuce said. “Big plantation style.”

“How many men are we talking?” Alex asked.

“At least half a dozen. Probably more. But the good news is, they’re not that competent. If they were, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Where you spotted?” Cooper asked.

“No, but it was close enough to get me sweating.” Deuce looked at Warlock. “You have any luck rigging Favreau’s suite?”

“Luck isn’t the word I’d use,” Warlock said.

“So what word would you use?”

Alex told him about the snafu and the workaround, and Deuce plopped heavily into a chair. “Well, isn’t that wonderful. If we tell McElroy any of this, he isn’t gonna be happy.”

“I’ll deal with McElroy,” Cooper said, then turned to Warlock. “Are you online with that feed you managed to run?”

“Watch and weep.” Warlock tapped a key on his laptop and gestured to the center screen, where a high-angle shot of the living room in Favreau’s suite appeared. The problem was, there was enough snow and horizontal interference to make it nearly impossible to see. “Our boy Freddy’s one paranoid little wanker. I don’t know many blokes who travel with a perimeter alarm and a jammer in their kit.” He smiled. “Besides us, that is.”

Cooper pointed to the monitor. “Is that the best you can do?”

“I’ve been trying different frequencies, but it looks as if he’s running interference on all of them.”

Alex studied the screen and was reminded of the scrambled adult cable stations she’d stumbled across as a kid. You could see movement, but it required some imagination to fill in the blanks. She thought she saw Favreau crossing toward an alcove in the wall that mirrored one in their room.

She gestured to the screen. “I think he’s headed for the safe.”

Deuce leaned forward in his chair and squinted. “Or doing a mean mambo.”

“He could be keeping the codes in there.”

“Or storing them in the cloud,” Warlock said, “with industrial-grade encryption.”

Cooper shook his head. “He’s got no control over the cloud. And a guy who goes to this much trouble for security is worried about getting ripped off. I don’t know about the safe, but I’m guessing they’re somewhere in that room.”

“So we’re back where we started,” Alex said. “We still need access.”

Cooper nodded. “Which means we have to up our game. It’s time to play dress-up.”

Her expression blank, Alex said, “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear you say that.”

Deuce grinned. “At least it ain’t undersized hospital scrubs.”

CHAPTER 16

It may not have been undersized hospital scrubs, but the on-camera attire Stonewell had chosen for Alex was unambiguous in its message: Alexandra Barnes, travel correspondent extraordinaire, was not a modest woman, and what she may have lacked in talent was surely made up for by what little she seemed to wear.

Thanks, guys.

The suitcases they’d sent were full of bikinis and tight cutoffs and evening attire that straddled the line between Madonna and whore. All of it may have been appropriate for an island vacation, but Alex was more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. The last time she’d worn a nice dress was at a law enforcement cocktail party three years ago, so slipping into a Terani red strapless mini that hugged every curve had her feeling self-conscious.

When she stepped off the elevator and walked into the hotel lobby, Cooper, Deuce, and Warlock all stopped what they were doing and stared at her for an excruciatingly long moment.

“Easy boys, it’s just a dress.”

It took Cooper a few seconds to find his voice. “I guess that’s where we’ll have to disagree.”

Warlock had sense enough to keep his mouth shut, but his face said it all as Deuce whistled. “Wow, kid, you clean up good.”

“Thanks…I think.”

The three of them were in costume as well, which meant they wore basically the same things they’d been in all day. Cooper, the “producer/director,” had added an electronic clapboard to his ensemble, while Deuce and Warlock had chosen job-appropriate accessories to enhance their wardrobes — a hefty video camera balanced on one shoulder for Deuce, and a long pole with a microphone mounted on the end for Warlock.

Cooper seemed to be having a hard time taking his eyes off Alex. She rarely regretted being female, but at moments like this, she hated it. This dress made her feel more like a display piece than a human being.

She said to Warlock, “What’s going on with Favreau?”

His gaze shifted to the upper right corner of his glasses. “He’s heading for the elevator as we speak.”

Warlock had managed to hack a line into the phone in Favreau’s suite, and they’d heard him make a dinner reservation at the Cajetan Cafe for nine p.m. He was dining alone, so they had figured this was their best chance for Alex to make her move.

They got into position near the elevators, Deuce pointing his camera in Alex’s direction as Warlock held the boom mic above her head. To a professional crew, they probably looked like amateur hour, but the Internet was undemanding, and everyone else was bound to think they knew what they were doing.

“He’s on his way down,” Warlock said.

Cooper got in front of Alex and held up the electronic clapboard. “Alex in Wonderland, take one.”

He clapped the board and stepped away. Alex took a breath, focused on the teleprompter mounted on Deuce’s camera, and began to read the copy, doing her best to sound like a semi-talented talking head with some major T&A appeal.

“I’m Alexandra Barnes, and we’re here in the lobby of the Hotel St. Cajetan, an Art Deco masterpiece that boasts over three thousand rooms, two casinos, seven restaurants, and an old-world Caribbean vibe that has most visitors believing they’ve been transported to the island via time machine.”

The elevator doors behind Deuce and Warlock slid open, and a small crowd of passengers that included Frederic Favreau spilled out. They all looked at the camera and boom mic, and began to buzz a little as they filtered past. In Favreau’s case, it was his eyes doing the talking, taking in Alex in much the same way Cooper’s had.

So far, so good.

“On our visit here,” Alex continued, “we’ll be showing you every facet of the hotel and its luxurious accommodations, as well as the must-see beaches and landmarks around the island that make St. Cajetan one of the most popular vacation destinations for millionaires and billionaires from around the world.”

She offered the camera her best fake smile and held it until Cooper said, “All right, cut it.”

She briefly made eye contact with Favreau, trying to show a hint of interest, then turned to Cooper. “I feel like we need one more. What do you think?”

“I think it was fine and I’m beat,” he said. “If we need any retakes we can do them in the morning.”

Alex was about to reply when she turned and saw that Favreau was already halfway across the lobby, headed for the Cajetan Cafe.

“So much for attracting his attention,” she said quietly.

Cooper smiled. “Believe me, you got it. I thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head. Not that I can blame him. Deuce is right, you do clean up good.”

My eyes are up here, Shane.”

His gaze shifted. “Hey, what can I say? I’m human.”

“Let’s concentrate on Favreau, okay? I’ll give him a few minutes then make my entrance.”