Athena Unleashed by W. Michael Gear

Author:W. Michael Gear [Gear, W. Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781639772476
Published: 2024-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

“Jack? How are we doing?” Lymon spoke into his sleeve mike as Tomaso opened Sheela Marks’ massive front door.

“We’re looking good, boss. Howard has given the fire doors a double-check. Someone will be stationed on each of the doors all the time. We’ve just finished a sweep with the hotel security. Nobody’s hiding in the broom closets. We checked every nook and cranny. We didn’t pry up the drain covers, but if they come up that way, we’ll smell ’em first.”

“I’m at Sheela’s now. Paul has the car ready. I’ll call as soon as we’re on route.”

“Roger that.”

Dot was trotting down the grand staircase, her purse bouncing, a leather briefcase hanging from her right hand. “Hey, Lymon.”

“Dot.” He gestured up the stairs. “She ready?”

Dot gave him a look that said he ought to know better. “She slept through makeup. Try to keep her from flattening her hairdo when she nods off on the way, will you?”

“Any way we can slip out of this thing early tonight?”

Dot shrugged. “It’s up to her.”

“She’s going to hurt herself,” Lymon muttered.

Dot just watched him from the corner of her eye—a knowing stare. Then she added, “She said for you to go up when you arrived. Keep her safe tonight.” Dot stepped past, bursting into her fast walk as she headed for the door.

“Yeah.” Lymon tapped his palm on the handrail as he climbed the stairs. He walked down the long hallway with its intricate carpet and carved molding on the doors. The white walls were hung with Southwestern art. Paintings of pueblos, rainstorms over mesas, and dark-eyed Indians stared back at him. The subject didn’t quite match the decor, but what the hell, it was Sheela’s. It made her happy.

He stopped, knocked twice at the master suite, and heard “Come” from within.

The latch clicked under his hand, and he walked into a large airy parlor. Several chaise lounges, an easy chair, and a small wet bar stood across from a huge wall TV. Bookcases lined the walls, packed with volumes that he knew Sheela had never had time to crack.

The arched doors that led to the master bedroom were closed. To the right, he could see into the spacious dressing room. On the wall, behind a raised barber’s chair, was a rack filled with cosmetics. Two big walk-in closets were open to reveal lines of dresses. Sheela was bent over the counter, examining her face up close in the mirror. She wore a Ralph Lauren “prairie” dress that George Blodwell had talked her into. White and lacy under a short-cut Spanish-style jacket, the ensemble looked absolutely stunning in contrast to the reddish-copper of her hair.

“We’re ready,” Lymon called by way of greeting. His smile died when she turned to greet him. He could see the fatigue that even her expert beauticians couldn’t hide.

“The studio gave in,” she said wearily. “We’ve got the original screenplay back. Rex and Tony got them to fold.” She gave him a hollow smile. “I can save this film, Lymon.

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