Anger churned in his gut. Who did she think she was? He could buy and sell her a million times over.
The thought made him smile. The smile turned into a chuckle. Then he scowled, emerging from the stairwell where he’d donned the stolen, protective camouflage. He started down the hall, his senses alert while his mind probed her reaction to him at the airport.
Cold, snobbish piece of tail. She’d looked at him like he was dirt. Well, he’d teach her some manners. Too bad it was the last lesson she’d ever learn.
He chuckled again, then he quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard him. No, he was still alone in the hallway. The maintenance uniform was a loose fit on his lean frame, but it would serve the purpose. She would see only the uniform and let him in.
He nodded to a couple leaving their room and they nodded back. Emboldened, he lengthened his stride. No one would question his right to be walking around in this outfit. Hadn’t he learned it was all a matter of acting as if you belonged? People always saw what they expected.
He started paying attention to the room numbers: 1213, 1215, 1217. Perfect. He knocked once and called out.
“Maintenance.”
Nothing happened. There was no stir of sound from inside. She’d probably gone out to eat. Or maybe she’d fallen asleep on the bed. That would be even better. He pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves. Removing a set of tools from his pocket, he set to work on the lock.
Inside the darkened room a minute later, he hit the light switch. His gaze swept the place. Instead of the jumble of luggage he’d expected to see, the room was completely empty.
Gone. She was gone!
Fear and fury mingled. Where had she gone? She’d been here when he’d called her room a short while ago.
There was only one reason for her to take off like that. She must have opened the computer case!
Fury all but choked him. Damn her! She’d taken off with his money. She must have thought she’d struck it rich. He’d teach her. He’d teach her good. Snooty Ms. Diamond would pay and pay for this inconvenience. Because that was all he would let it be. He’d get the money back and the C4 explosive as well.
He cursed viciously. Stupid! One stupid moment of panic and his reputation hung in the balance. His fingerprints were all over that case. If she’d taken it to the police—
He calmed his momentary panic. Even if she had, they couldn’t touch him. They wouldn’t have a name to go with those prints, nor would they know where to look. And his career wasn’t ruined yet. Fortunately, he’d removed the client’s instructions in the rest room when he’d picked up the case from the unseen courier.
He patted his hip pocket, satisfied by the crinkle of paper. Unfortunately, now he would have to purchase or steal some explosives himself. Risky. He could make a couple of bombs from scratch of course, but they wouldn’t be as professional as the C4. And this job needed to go right. He pounded his fist in his hand. He had some time. Maybe he could find the bitch and get his case back again. Damn her!
He lifted the lamp from the dresser, yanking the cord from the socket. The lamp shattered satisfactorily against the wall over the king-size bed where he hurled it. Where had she gone? When he’d searched her computer case at the airport, all he’d found was her business address inside. Would she go back to New York once she realized what she had?
Not likely. She’d had too much luggage with her. Hell, with his recent luck she was relocating here in Texas. How was he going to find her? Texas was one big mother of a state. She could have gone anywhere. If he started asking questions, people would remember him. There had to be a way to figure out where she went.
A noise at the door sent him spinning around. There was no time to move out of sight and nowhere to hide. Another man in a maintenance uniform stepped inside, a rack of tools in his hand. His friendly face registered startled shock, then moved to puzzled surprise.
The man sometimes known as Norman Smith smiled at the newcomer coldly.
“Uh, who are you?” Dark features pleated in puzzlement, not yet alarmed. “I was told we’ve got a problem here.”
He waited for the man to close the door to the hall. His fingers wormed their way inside his pocket to the comforting hard steel of the knife that rested there.
He liked knives. They were much quieter than guns.
“It’s unfortunate, but it looks like I’m the man who’s going to make all your problems disappear.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE SUN WASN’T even up when Sky finished dressing, checked her watch, and decided she had time to send her assistant a quick e-mail before she hit the road. The computer case still sat on the desk where the bellman had set it the night before. Spinning it around to open it, she stopped, her heart pounding loud enough to be audible.
“This isn’t my case!”
While similar, the case was too light and had some sort of fancy lock on the front. Anger and panic warred within her even as she reached for her briefcase to check on her files. The machine’s files weren’t irreplaceable, the ones in her briefcase were. She breathed again when she found everything where it should be. Then she reached for the telephone.
“I suspect this is a simple mix-up,” the hotel security man told her a short time later. “There’s no identification on the outside, but this is an expensive lock. Someone is going to want this case back.”
“Can’t you open it?”
“No, ma’am. Not with this lock on it.”
“Mr. Ellenshaw, I need my computer. Can’t you break the lock and find out who this case belongs to?”
The earnest young man shook his head. “Sorry, Ms. Diamond, I can’t do that. Believe me, whoever got your computer is going to be as upset as you are over this mistake.”
“I doubt it.”
Especially if that person was from a rival designer’s house. This wouldn’t be the first time another designer had gone to extreme lengths to steal an upcoming series of designs. Sky had been a recent target so she knew firsthand. There was big money in the world of fashion. Theft happened more often than people realized. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
“I’m certain we’ll hear from the owner this morning,” he assured her earnestly.
“That’s all very well, but my car is being delivered in fifteen minutes. I have to leave. What am I supposed to do?”
“As soon as your computer is located we’ll have it delivered to you. In the meantime, I have some forms for you to fill out.”
“Of course you do.”
Arguing was pointless. If the competition had her computer, they already had everything on it. Recriminations were useless. She could only hope Mr. Ellenshaw was correct, that in all the confusion yesterday, the bags had been switched by mistake.
“And if no one does complain about having the wrong computer?” she asked as she finished filling out the requisite paperwork to get her laptop computer returned in the event they recovered it.
“Er, then you’ll have to file a claim through the insurance company.”
“Naturally. And what happens to this one?”
“Oh, we’ll hold on to it. It’s possible a guest who checked out might not discover the switch for several days.” At her raised eyebrows he hastened to add, “But I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue here, Ms. Diamond.”
The door flew open. A young woman in a security uniform