Free The Shaughnessey Accord by Alison Kent Page A

person."
    "Wait the hell a minute. I am not taking off this man's clothes."
    No sooner had she gotten the words out than she found Danh standing over Tripp and lining up his head as a target. "I think you'll do what you're instructed to do. There will be consequences if you do not."
    Tears welled and burned until her vision was nothing but a blur of tweed. That blur was so much better, however, than picturing what a bullet would do to Tripp's head.
    She moved to the pockets, the lapels, laying the jacket out on the floor and running her fingers over every inch of the lining as well as the heavier outer fabric. She finally stood, folding it over her arms.
    She shook her head. "There's nothing here."
    "Professor? Where would you like her to continue?"
    "Miss Brighton," the professor addressed her directly. "I understand your concern, but please realize I am aware that you have no choice."
    And you? she wanted to ask. If you're who Tripp says you are , what sort of choices do you have? "It would go easier on all of us if you could give me a hint? Or maybe just give Mr. Vuong what he's looking for, and save all of us this hassle?"
    "She has a point," Tripp finally put in, Danh having removed the gun from the top of his head. "Give up the goods and we can all go home."
    The professor's expression remained unaffected. Apparently he wasn't as put off by having her strip him as she was by the reality of the act. He slipped off his turtleneck with a nonchalance that was strangely disturbing and handed her the shirt.
    Danh circled the both of them while she went through the same process of searching seams and hems. "Professor. Why don't you tell us about the memoir you're writing. With your experience, you must have more than a few tales to tell."
    Why the hell was Danh baiting the man? Nothing good was going to come of this, Glory just knew. She found nothing embedded anywhere in the shirt and glanced helplessly at Tripp. His response was no more than a look that encouraged her to hang in and he'd figure a way out of here soon.
    "I'm not so sure this is the time and place for stories," the professor argued as he heel-toed off both shoes for Glory's inspection.
    "It's time for whatever I decide. Do you have a publisher for your memoir? Do you have an audience waiting to read about your life?"
    The professor's smile was a picture of paternal patience. "I'm not seeking publication, Mr. Vuong . I'm recording my memories as a self-indulgent exercise more than anything."
    "Is that right? So if I have one of my men bring in your portfolio, then you will read to us?"
    Glory sensed a shift in the room's tension even before she got to her feet with the shoes hooked over two of her fingers. Tripp had moved from leaning against the wall, his knees drawn up, his hands at his back, to a sitting sort of crouch as if ready to launch himself forward.
    The professor, now bare-chested and barefooted, pushed his glasses farther up his nose. It seemed to Glory that he was using the motion as a cover, or else as a signal to Tripp.
    She had no idea what was going on, what part in this drama she was supposed to be playing. So she simply offered Danh the shoes. "There's nothing here."
    Danh never even looked at her. He gave all of his attention to the professor, gesturing the length of the other man's body with his gun. "It's your choice, Professor. Hand Miss Brighton your belt and your trousers. Or tell me what you've done with the information passed to you by the courier."
    "Courier? I'm sure I don't know what it is you're talking about."
    Danh swung. The gun cracked into the professor's skull above his ear. His glasses skidded across the floor and between Tripp's feet. Nobody moved. Glory watched blood trickle between the professor's fingers where he held his hand to his head.
    Screw the little punk with the gun. Even if the professor was the agent Tripp said he was, the man didn't deserve this inhumane treatment.
    She crossed the room and had her hand