Free Devil's Gold by Julie Korzenko Page B

searching out any possible threat.
    Nick affected a warm smile and reached across the table to envelop the director of ZEBRA’s operations smaller hand within his. “Drew.” The man was nervous. Sweat glistened across his brow, and Nick scrambled inwardly to mask his disgust at Drew’s clammy hand.
    With a nod of his head, Drew indicated for Nick to sit. “I was surprised when your secretary called to say Robert was in town. Will he be here soon?”
    Nick pulled back a chair opposite of Drew and sat, his body tipped forward, ready to strike if danger approached. “He has high hopes that this meal will contain a positive report for OPEC?” He narrowed his gaze as a deep flush brightened Drew’s face.
    The man choked and gulped a large mouthful of water. He glanced quickly at Nick’s face, then cast his eyes downward, shaking his head.
    â€œNo?” Nick sighed and signaled for the waiter. “Did you get…” He paused, not wanting to say her name, but even that small attempt at distancing his emotions didn’t quell the sudden flutter of excitement as he pictured her wide-eyed and frightened against the backdrop of gunfire and burning oil. He’d have another chance at her. “Did you get the zoologist off to Wyoming?”
    Nick picked up the small leather binder on the table and scanned the list of available wines. He pointed to a 1982 merlot and then turned his attention back to Drew Sharpe. Cold beer would be better, but he needed to maintain this image Robert Cole insisted he perfect.
    Sharpe cleared his throat and tapped a finger against the white linen tablecloth. “Yes. I still don’t understand…”
    â€œIt’s not for you to question.” He ignored the flicker of anger that sparked in Drew’s eyes.
    â€œCole’s complicated the entire mission by sending in your goons.”
    Nick’s affable manner slipped, and he leaned forward, piercing Drew with a sharp gaze. “Don’t make accusations you can’t prove.”
Fuckin’ idiot
. Didn’t he know who he was dealing with?
    Drew sat back, sighed deeply, and laced his fingers together, resting them lightly on the edge of the table. “I’ll place another signature on the report.”
    Turning back to Drew, he felt his anger simmer to an acceptable level. “You can’t replace her name, you jerk! That’d alert OPEC.”
    Drew raised his hands in the air in an act of defeat. “I’ve sent her to Yellowstone. She’s out of the way, so just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
    A half smile tugged at the corner of Nick’s lips.

    Cassidy flipped her wrist over, checking the time. One o’clock. She hurried into the bedroom. Her duffel bag sat on the bed, the faded olive-green canvas with its numerous stains and frayed seams alien amidst the floral prints and muted spring colors of her quilt. Her windows were shut tight against the hot air outside, but a lingering scent of lemon from the candles she’d burned last night mimicked the perfume of the budding magnolia tree that knocked gently against the glass pane.
    She opened her closet and dumped a minimal amount of clothing into the bag. Reaching onto the top shelf, Cassidy ran her hand across the wire rack until her fingers connected with smooth plastic. She retrieved a clear tote stuffed with miniature toiletry samples that she always bought by the dozen from her local discount store. She tossed that across the room, and it landed next to her bag. With a quick glance around, she snatched up a pair of worn work boots and shoved them into the now burgeoning interior. It didn’t take more than five minutes to complete her packing. She was low maintenance and proud of it.
    Cassidy hauled her duffel off the bed and dumped it next to the front door. She then did a quick walk through her apartment, verifying all lights were off and there were