the Middle Sin (2009) by Lovelace Merline

Author:Lovelace, Merline [Lovelace, Merline]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-26T18:08:36+00:00

15

A lucky shot, or the work of a true professional?" Cleo shrugged, recognizing that Inspector Aruzzo's question was purely rhetorical. The small, clean entry wound aligned between the shoulder blades with almost surgical precision spoke for itself.

Folding one arm across his chest, Aruzzo fingered his beard while his crime-scene unit measured and photographed the body. A good-size crowd had clustered just outside the taped-off area. Gawking tourists. Curious locals. Shop owners drawn by the commotion.

Was the shooter there, too? Taking clever, malicious pride in his work? Cleo swept the crowd again, searching faces, scrutinizing features. She didn't recognize any patrons from the Cafe Corinthia.

"Do you have anything to add to your statement, Madame North?"

The inspector's air of polite courtesy had worn a little thin. Cleo could tell he wasn't pleased that a murder had been committed in the heart of Valletta's historic area. Bad for the tourist industry.

"No, nothing to add."

"Very well. I will be in touch."

Summarily dismissed, she left him attending to his business and headed for her hotel. Adrenaline still spiked through her veins. Too antsy for her planned catnap, she dialed the hotel restaurant, canceled her dinner reservations and ordered a room service meal.

The waiter set the table on the balcony of her suite. Her mind churning, Cleo forked down garlicky risotto and squid while the sun sank into the now-purple sea and the cruise ships pulled away from the docks below.

She thought about going back to the Cafe Corinthia, but nixed the idea. Word had gotten around. They-whoever they were-knew where she was staying. She'd sit tight tonight and see if they came to her. If they did...

Her teeth ground a rubbery morsel of squid to a pulp. Having a man die in her arms tended to make Cleo just a tad annoyed. Anyone who showed up uninvited at her hotel room in the foreseeable future had better come prepared.

She might not have access to her full bag of tricks, but she hadn't gained a reputation in the security-consulting business for no reason. Although she'd only brought limited equipment with her, anyone trying to get into her room would meet with a surprise or two.

He'd kill her!

Jack stood at rigid attention before his boss's desk, plotting the imminent demise of one Cleopatra North while General Barnes peeled long strips from his hide.

Barnes had both fists planted on his blotter. His face was brick red. The pipe that rarely left his mouth lay abandoned. The general had tossed it aside so as not to interfere with the blistering speech he'd been delivering for almost fifteen minutes now. Jack had taken the blasts with little outward show of emotion. That seemed to set the Old Man off even more.

"Dammit, Donovan, I don't like having my chain yanked by the CIA."

"No, sir."

Barnes leaned forward, his bushy eyebrows bristling. "I like even less being informed that the intelligence community's most reliable source on the island of Malta just died in the arms of one of my former agents."

Jack suspected that "former" rankled more than anything else.

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