I pulled it out, stepping away from Violet as I answered it, watching Silas and Violet’s silent exchange.
“Langley,” I growled into the phone without really looking to see which one it was.
“I need you to go to the Crab Shack,” Ken’Ichi commanded.
With one last glance at Silas and Violet, I turned and walked out the back door.
“I’m not your delivery boy. Isn’t that moreHosa-san’sjob?” My rejection of his directive was as disrespectful as the disdain I put into the name Ken’Ichi used forSaito-san. I could see his face darken even when I wasn’t with him.
“Trust isn’t just handed over,” he said coldly.
A fucking test.
“I’m not here to play games,” I challenged. “I’m not your new inside man. I gave you a legitimate solution to an increasingly difficult problem. One businessman to another.”
I got in the Aston Martin, slamming the door.
“You have something better to do with your time?” he asked dryly.
I didn’t. He knew it. I knew it.
Before I could respond, he added, “It’s already in your car.”
My heart thudded to a stop. I glanced in the back seat. Nothing. That meant it was in the trunk. It pissed me off that he’d had someone break into my car parked at the B&B. Feet away from Violet. Feet away from where Mandy and Leena normally were.
“You don’t need to pull this kind of shit with me,” I snarled.
“Thisshitis how you prove you’re a worthy partner.” He returned my snarl with icy calm.
“If this blows up on me, Ken’Ichi, we both lose. The long-term opportunity I’m trying to put in place for you is bigger than this kind of stunt.”
Silence.
Instead of just agreeing to whatever the hell he wanted me to do, I changed the subject, reminding him of what was really at play.
“Dax called,” I said. “We’re making the first run across the Atlantic on Monday. That’s the real test. The yacht is ready for the delivery. Better yet, I can have four more ready to go for you in less than six months.”
“Go to the Crab Shack, Langley,” he repeated his command and then hung up.
I tore out of the driveway with gravel skidding across the pavement.
When I got to the Crab Shack, the back door was open. A man in yellow fisherman gear was unloading crates from a truck into the restaurant. His dungarees and the crates left a watery trail across the pavement.
In the cab of his truck was a man hidden in shadows, but as I pulled in, he opened the door and slid out. By the time I got to the rear of my car, he was at my side. A rough character. Dark hair, black eyes, and a nose that appeared to have been broken more times than a hockey player’s.
When I opened the trunk, the man slid a hand under his long black leather coat, and a state-of-the-art rocket launcher emerged. I’d never seen anything like it. It was compact, almost toy-like. The guy placed it into the trunk and pulled a gym bag from my car that wasn’t mine.
He stared at me, unmoving.
“Check with your boss,” he said.
I gritted my teeth, barely keeping myself from growling out that Ken’Ichi wasn’t my boss. I hit redial on the number Ken’Ichi had called from, and before I could say anything, he said, “Hosa-sanwill pick it up.”
Fucking hell, why hadn’t he just hadSaito-sanpick it up to begin with? But I knew the truth, even as I was asking myself the question. In all likelihood, I was being filmed so they could use it as blackmail if I decided to bail, or if?as they might suspect?I was the one who’d placed the listening device at the villa.
“Where?” I started to ask, but Ken’Ichi had already hung up.
I nodded to the delivery guy, and he retreated to the truck.
