[Colt Information Agency 01.0] Agent Colt: Classified Pride Read online

  “Well, he’s trying to sell weapons illegally. That makes him a bad guy,” Vaneesa said as she frowned at the empty cake plate.

  “But is it so black and white? Every mission I’ve been on, I’ve been thoroughly prepped and comprised of how awful of a person it is that I am supposed to take down. And they all were. Evil, self-righteous, hedonistic, hateful… Philip just doesn’t put off any of those vibes.” Yeah, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was not right. Yet I couldn’t deny that Philip was trying to move arms to a well-known criminal. Why hadn’t I spoken to Isaiah about all this? He was gathering details last I saw him, and I was ignoring his efforts.

  “Tess, maybe you should talk to your partner about that. He’s been in all the same cases as you, for the most part. I bet he’ll have a good feel for this. And it might make him feel more a part of this case. Might make you feel better for talking to him, too.”

  It’s like she’s in my head. But once again, Vaneesa was right.

  “When we go to base in the morning that will be your chance. I will have to pose as a health inspector, so I can bug the restaurant you and Philip are dining at. Do some more research on Philip and get Isaiah’s take on the case.”

  She yawned and stretched out like a cat, reaching back to the cake plate and dabbed up a dollop of chocolate icing that was remaining. Quickly, before I could protest, she smeared the icing down my chin. I shook my head as she giggled, but smiled at her playfulness. The smile turned into a gasp as she darted forward and licked the chocolate from my chin.

  “Oh, sorry, you just seem to have gotten something on you right here,” she teased. “Still there, let me try again.”

  Vaneesa licked up my chin and then across my bottom lip, drew back for a quick moment, then traced the top of her tongue across my upper lip. I inhaled sharply, shocked by the electric currents running from her mouth to mine. But when I made to kiss her, she pulled away a bit and smiled.

  Then she continued to trace her tongue across my mouth, giving a couple of nibbles to my lips before she moved the wet tip along the line of my jaw and up to my ear. She sucked the lobe into her mouth, giving off more electric shocks that were now striking me squarely between my thighs. One of my hands was wrapped up in her hair, the other running down her back to push up her shirt, giving me access to her angel soft skin.

  “Mmmmm,” she hummed in my ear. Her fingers had been working their way up and down my shoulders, but now were tickling their way down my sides. Fingertips brushed over sensitive areas just above my hip bones and caused me to gasp and twitch. Vaneesa’s mouth tightened down on my ear lobe for a split second, then she released it and ran her tongue up the outside edge of my ear.

  The itty bitty electric shocks were heating me up, and I wasn’t sure how much control I had left. Keeping my hands on respectable areas of Vaneesa’s body was difficult, to say the least. But just when I thought to explore more of her, she pulled away and sat back on her heels grinning like a madman at me.

  “What was that all about?” I asked her, short of breath.

  “Well, just giving you something to think about when you need to flirt with Philip at dinner tomorrow. Providing you with some food for thought.” Then she winked at me and hopped off the bed.

  I sat there stunned, unable to do more than open and close my mouth like a guppy, as she grabbed up her shoes and bag.

  Finally able to speak, I croaked, “Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah, I gotta call my mom and wish her happy birthday. Have to go to Base to use the secure line there. Get some sleep. And don’t worry, I will ring Alonso to drive me.”

  She had been hopping around putting her shoes on, and once done, she came over and planted a firm kiss on my lips.

  “Goodnight, Tess,” she whispered, then turned for the door.

  The door shut, and I flopped back onto the pillows, tasting chocolate icing and feeling quite dizzy. And terribly aroused.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Morning found me sitting behind the monitors at Base, head in my hands. I hadn’t slept much the night before and no wonder. After Vaneesa’s departure, I took a near freezing shower but was still restless afterward. So I had headed down to the indoor pool. It was after hours, but hey, I was an heiress, wasn’t I? A small bribe to the young, awkward front desk attendant had the key to the pool house in my possession without the need for flirting.

  Of course, it hadn’t hurt that I was wearing a bikini and towel while asking, either.

  After a vigorous forty minutes of almost non-stop laps around the Olympic size pool, I was finally exhausted enough to contemplate bed. I soaked off the chlorine smell in the Jacuzzi tub in my room, and just before one in the morning I sank to sleep in clean silk sheets.

  Life was starting to feel a bit charmed. I had to be careful not to slide down that particular rabbit-hole.

  But I woke up with my hair frizzier than a poodle, and it took some mean persuasion to tame it enough to go out in public. Once I had successfully defeated my hair, I pulled on my favorite combat boots only to have a lace break. I grabbed out my jogging shoes, which I hadn’t cleaned since my last long run in a Texas storm, and reluctantly tied them on. The rabbit-hole was nowhere close enough to fall into anymore.

  I must have been real out of it, because when I finally glanced up from my contemplations, Isaiah’s face was staring at me from over one of the monitors.

  “Ah!” I choked out, startled by his stare.

  “Jeez, Tess. You okay?” he asked, genuinely worried.

  “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am fine,” I said, my voice betraying the fact that I was most definitely not fine.

  “Mmm, okay.” Isaiah seemed willing not to push it, yet. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I wanted to see if anyone has any more info on Philip Townsend. I can’t help but to feel like something is missing here.”

  Isaiah cocked an eyebrow at that.

  “I can tell you everything we have on him, and I can tell you that it is very little,” he replied bitterly, crossing his arms.

  His tone reminded me to ask, “Are you okay not playing an active role in this? It’s been weird fielding this without you; I’m so used to having you either beside me or as a backup at all times.”

  “Did I hear you correctly? Is that genuine concern coming from Latesse Colt?” Isaiah placed his hand over his heart, feigning shock.

  “Okay, you know what, forget I said it.”

  “No, wait Tess. I’m glad you said it because I have been thinking about it. It has been weird. I’m not the patient type to sit behind a computer and compile Intel and calculate body count… …or whatever it is that Vaneesa does.”

  I rolled my eyes at this.

  “I like to be told point blank what the scenario is, who needs to be taken down, and being released like a bloodhound to bring ‘em to heel.”

  “Well, you got the hound part right,” I mumbled.

  “You’re damn right, I got that right. I am a hound. I sniff the bad guys out; I hunt them down. I’m vicious, I’m ruthless, and I’m loyal.” He topped off his short tirade with a piercing glare.

  “You know what? I know that, all of that. And you are right. You are loyal. Which is why I need your help.”

  Isaiah barked a sharp laugh. “I think I need to clean out my ears, now.”

  I punched him in the arm but returned his laugh. “Come on, Mr. Data Compiler; I need your help on this one.”

  “Alright, alright, but I really think I need to sit for this. Hearing you say you need me makes me weak in the knees.” He chortled at his wit, turned and headed out of the surveillance room to the main lobby. I shook my head, grabbed up the folders in front of me, and followed him out.

  Isaiah was brewing up some coffee when I walked in, and it smelled heavenly. I laid out the folders on the largest table, and flipped them all open, rifling through them one by one while I waited for the coffee to get done.

  A cup of strong, black coffee appeared before me
, and I wrapped my hands around it, forgetting the folders momentarily. I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma and steam. My head was feeling less and less fuzzy by the second.

  “So what is it that feels wrong here, then?” Isaiah asked me.

  My eyes popped open and settled on his face. Dark face, very handsome. Why hadn’t he somebody outside of the CIA? It couldn’t just be because of me. I hoped.

  “I said missing. You said wrong, which means you’ve been thinking about this case, too. And I agree something feels wrong about it.”

  “This Philip guy is squeaky clean, Tess. We have the best Intel operatives on the planet in this Base, and we either don’t know jack about this guy, or…”

  “Or there’s nothing dirty about him,” I finished.

  “Yeah. I think he’s just gotten mixed up in some dirty business somehow. I guess you can try to find out over dinner with him, eh?”

  “Hopefully, I can get him to loosen up. He’s avoided talking about anything present tense, so far. Philip’s hiding something, for sure. But I am just not convinced it’s his super-villain alter-ego.”

  “How are you planning on making him talk? Given it much thought?” he asked.

  “Ha, yeah. Vaneesa helped me prep for it some last night.”

  “Eh, hopefully she gave you good advice. I’m not sure about that chicky.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at his coffee cup.

  I wasn’t startled to hear this since Vaneesa brushed him off regularly, but just had to ask, “Why aren’t you sure about her?”

  “She seems like a bit of a man hater, is all. Man haters can’t be giving out good seduction advice.”

  “Oh, she convinced me otherwise,” I said, chuckling.

  “Mmp.” was his reply.

  We sat in silence for a while, sipping our coffee and shuffling through papers, pictures, bank statements, land titles and more.

  “Well here, this is interesting,” Isaiah said as he pushed a paper towards me.

  It was a bank statement; Philip’s personal accounts. The ledger showed his beginning balance for the month at one hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars. By the end of the month, it was all gone, pulled out via several different withdrawals in varying amounts.

  “Wow. That’s a significant money loss. Think he’s a gambler?” I mused.

  “We’ve gone back over years of bank and credit history, and his finances were very stable until a few months ago. That is the start of it. See here?”

  Isaiah shoved another paper my way. A transaction record from a brokerage company, showing that Philip had sold all shares of stock in his own business.

  “Wouldn’t this be basically forfeiting his rights to the other majority stockholders? And where’s the money?” This transaction showed a sale of five hundred shares of stock in Town and Country Power Holdings. They weren’t much per share since the company was still relatively new. But they still sold for a modest seventy-five grand total.

  “Cashed out. No balance transfer, no check written.” Isaiah was searching for something as he spoke, and once found placed it on top of the other financial papers.

  A credit card statement, a MasterCard issued to his company under his name. Twenty-five-thousand-dollar credit line maxed out completely.

  I whistled slightly under my breath. “Two hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars. Gone to who knows where. Well, now we know one thing for sure. He’s desperate.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  My planned approach was solidified. Now I needed to wait for the right time to strike. Seduction was most likely not going to work with Philip, though I hadn’t written it off entirely. It was still a potential tactic. There was something Philip needed badly enough for him to bankrupt himself and sever his stockholder status with his own company.

  I had arrived a bit early at the restaurant where we were meeting, so he would find me at the bar with a drink already in hand. Jacob couldn’t be here to keep my drinks less-than-stiff, so I sipped on my martini while I waited. A couple of men crowded me in at the bar, recognizing me as the skimpy bikini clad heiress in the local paper. Neither of them spoke much English, but one was getting a bit too touchy-feely by the time Philip showed up. Bad guy or no, I felt relieved to see him.

  Martini in one hand and handbag in the other, I sashayed away from the bar, trailing Philip as he led us to the table near one of the small indoor fountains. A whistle followed me as I walked away, and I cringed, not quite needing to feign dismay as Philip looked back over his shoulder at me.

  He held out my chair like a complete gentleman, then took his seat across from me. Philip was quite dashing in a black dinner suit, dark blue button up shirt, and cream colored tie.

  “I am sorry I got here late, Tessa. Those men didn’t bother you too much, did they?” Philip asked, concerned. He was going to make this easy on me.

  “It is expected, I suppose. A girl can’t enjoy a walk on the beach with her parents, and have money in her bank accounts at the same time it seems. Damned paparazzi have made a complete fool out of me.” I played up the distress in my voice, my grip tight on the stem of my martini glass.

  Philip’s fingertips brushed over my white knuckles.

  “They are all fools. Don’t let it bother you, and it will go away in no time.” He withdrew his hand, but sat still, watching me. The perfect, attentive date.

  “It’s the same no matter where I go. I had hoped Italy would be different.” I waved at a passing waiter and ordered another martini.

  Philip ordered a beer when asked for his drink choice, but had, as yet, made no move to open his menu. Being the polished man he was, he waited for me to feel better before moving forward with the meal.

  The rest of my original martini slid down my throat, and I flipped open the menu and watched him followed suit. We held some idle chatter about the different foods while we waited for our drinks. I could see him looking at me every so often over the top of his menu. It occurred to me there might be some genuine interest there. Interest I could use to its full advantage later.

  Our drinks came, and we ordered some appetizers with a crazy foreign name that turned out as fried clam strips with a chunky tomato dipping sauce. They were quite delicious. I was imagining feeding one to Vaneesa and dripping sauce on her chin when Philip spoke up.

  “You are feeling a bit better, I hope?” Oops, I was almost grinning like a fool.

  “Yes, I am. Thank you for the pleasant company. It’s nice to be around someone genuine for once.” I watched his face, hoping for any hint to betray his dark, evil nature. Nothing. Only a small, pleasant smile.

  Our main courses arrived when I pulled out my next weapon.

  “So, I am thinking of donating to a charity. I’m just not sure which one. There are so many.” My eyes fixated on the waiter as he placed the dishes on the table. Sturdy porcelain, bright red, but a bit cheap for the prices they charged a person to eat off them.

  “Wow. That is generous of you. Did you have any particular charity or organization in mind?”

  I looked up and found him frozen in place, wide-eyed, hooked like a fat trout as he took the bait. I wasn’t sure what part of my statement had struck him so solid, but I had his earnest attention now.

  “It takes an awful lot of time to research charities, so I’ve been a bit lax about doing that. Hard to find the ones who aren’t out to make money from unsuspecting well-doers. Too many people in need just to dish money out to large organizations who have their hands held out higher than the rest.”

  Philip grunted in response, a distinct cloud crossing his features. I had touched on something, it seemed.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for months; it’s been an awfully long time since my mother and father donated to any. They’ve been so busy with business expansions. And after the pictures in the paper the other day…”

  “You thought you’d push up your timeline on it to counter the slander of your name and image?” he asked with a raised brow.

  “That se
ems too selfish, doesn’t it? But I can’t say I’m not looking at it from that angle just now. I am a solid part of the family biz now, and I can’t have my supposed ‘single lady’ hysterics mucking that up for me, now can I?” A corner of my mouth lifted in a smile as I made the air quotes.

  “I don’t think it’s selfish at all.” He sounded amused. “Rather sensible. It's a shame the papers haven’t taken the time to get to know you. I believe they’d quickly change their mind.” The short-lived tenderness on his face damn near solidified in my mind that he wasn’t a bad person. Still, I had my job to do.

  “Phil, I have no right to ask this, but will you help me? I need to find a good charity or place to donate to. I don’t even know how long you are going to be here, in Italy. Hopefully, for a few more days at least?” My voice was sincere, and I gazed at him wide-eyed, placing my hand on the table, fingers outstretched toward him. He covered my hand with his, folding his fingers around it and squeezing lightly.

  “Of course, I’ll help you. I’m here for another two weeks, and I am free tomorrow. I will start checking around in the morning.”

  “You are wonderful, Phil. I’m not sure what I would do here without you right now.” I pulled my hand away, leaving him with a stunned expression.

  I devoted myself to my chicken to give him a moment to recover himself.

  The rest of the meal consisted of small talk about recent business developments at Henderly. I passed over the brochures and the latest research and development notes while we shared a slice of cheesecake. Scooting my chair closer to him, I pointed out a few of the main selling points for the wind turbines. I was pretty sure he already knew them, but it was my excuse to get close. After covering about half the brochure outlining the effectiveness of the turbines when operated singly, I realized he was no longer paying attention to the paper I was pointing to.