Merchants of Death by John L. Flynn

Author:John L. Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2022-08-08T07:34:01+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kate Dawson was already awake, feasting on a small breakfast of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, whole-wheat toast, fresh black coffee, and orange juice, when one of the household servants hand delivered a message to her; a reminder that she was scheduled to meet with Renée Devereaux in the office at precisely nine o’clock sharp to discuss business. With her morning meal out of the way, she showered and dressed in a beautiful, floral sundress from Marc Jacobs, flat shoes, and few pieces of tasteful jewelry. She felt a cold wave of perspiration flush over her body as suspicion ran wild through Kate’s mind. Why would an extremely wealthy business woman, such as Renée Devereaux, schedule a private meeting with the owner of convenience stores to discuss a paltry order for less than ten or twelve thousand dollars? Even if it was part of the plan, and things did seem to be progressing accordingly, Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an alternative motive, and that thought troubled her. Then she recalled where the etching of the check was. She slipped it in the palm of her hand and made ready to hand it off to Starke.

Kate left her room at eight fifty-five and made her way down towards the study. When she walked across the front lobby, past two household servants who were cleaning and dusting the room for guests, she saw her Lincoln Town Car parked out on the front driveway. Starke had stripped off her chauffeur’s jacket and had sleeves rolled up, polishing the hood. Getting Starke’s message that it was time to “clean things up,” she made a point of walking out to Starke to whisper “tally-ho,” and palm the note to her. She didn’t say anything else; nothing else was needed. Kate was quite proud of herself, knowing that she was on her way to break the case wide open; that it was time to call in the cavalry.

The mere idea of being in the same study made Kate’s anxiety return. Were there cameras in the study? Was I caught going through Devereaux’s drawers? Could this be a clever ruse to trap me; to call me out for the burglary? Or perhaps Starke’s break in at the warehouse had aroused suspicion? She really didn’t know what to expect as she neared.

Taking a small corridor by the far stairwell, Dawson reached forward and gave a gentle yet firm knock. Nine-oh-one. She was late, but not precipitously late, only a minute. Kate could hear the tapping of computer keys, then footsteps, seconds before the door opened. Renée Devereaux filled the door with her charming smile.

“Good morning,” Kate smiled, shaking her hand. “Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me.”

“Actually, the pleasure is all mine,” Renée said, returning the handshake. She led Kate into the study and indicated a single leather chair on the other side of the desk, to which Dawson sat and made herself comfy. Renée sat behind the desk, with a computer front and center.

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