More Than a Mission - Caridad Pineiro [68]
Dani knew that well from what she had seen the night before from outside Lizzie’s cottage.
Now she had to figure out who he was and what he wanted. Even more importantly, for whom he worked. Not, she hoped, the man who had hired her to kill the prince. If that was the case, Lizzy might be in danger and Dani had to make sure her sister was safe.
She hurried up the central road until she was past the docks. Then she cut down a shallow footpath through the dunes and grasses. The tall grasses hid her at times, but could also camouflage someone else along the path. She moved along with caution, therefore.
The path dipped toward the beach, and, once there, she hastened her pace, breaking into a slow jog so that she could reach her grandparents’ cottage and start searching for more information on Mr. Aidan Rawlings.
That was the name Kate had provided, although Dani had no doubt it was an alias. Still, there were ways to get around that and secure more information.
Didn’t she know it. She’d gone from Danielle Elizabeth Moore to Elizabeth Cavanaugh and most traces of her existence had been blotted out from official papers and computer databases. She had even been excised from the high-school yearbook that the Leonia Public Library kept as a record of every graduating class.
She was a ghost now. Nonexistent except to those people who knew her personally, and of course, to her sister.
Her sister who might be in danger, she thought and hurried onward.
About half a mile up the shore, there was another footpath leading to the base of the bluffs where her maternal grandparents had a cottage—her safehouse. The climb up this path was more arduous as it inclined sharply from the rocks and beach below to the start of the bluffs.
She was slightly out of breath from the climb as she entered the cottage and flipped on the light.
“So good to see you again,” she heard from behind her and whirled, reaching for her gun.
A blow like an iron fist struck her, powerful enough to send her reeling backward. Searing pain erupted through her midsection. Her legs failed to cooperate, buckling beneath her. She fell back heavily onto the couch in the middle of the room.
The pain was like a white-hot poker driving deep into her. She could barely breathe. When she finally did, her breath was shallow. Almost inconsequential.
This wasn’t possible, she thought as the man approached, his voice and shape familiar from the night he had hired her to kill the prince. From the night they had fought on the docks when he’d failed to provide her the promised information on her parents’ killers.
“Such a shame,” he said as he finally stood before her, his face protected by a black ski mask. A slimy smile slicked across his lips as he trained his gun on her. “The Sparrow won’t elude this trap.”
Dani tried to go for her weapon, but her body wasn’t responding. Still, the man wasn’t taking any chances. He reached under her jacket and removed her gun from its holster.
She had the Sigma tucked behind her. Could feel its presence against her spine, but knew she would be unable to draw that weapon.
He inspected the HK and smiled. “Nice piece. Seems a shame to waste it, don’t you think?”
He tucked it into his belt with one hand and raised his gun with the other. Pointing the barrel at her head, he sighted the shot.
Dani met his cold eyes along the matte black of the barrel and stared him down. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be like a coward, pleading and begging for her life.
His hand trembled for a moment and she mustered enough breath to say, “What’s…matter? Not man enough to do it while…I watch?”
He laughed harshly, his dark eyes glittering through the slits of the black ski mask. “Actually, no. Just taking time to appreciate that you broke your own rules. You let yourself get distracted. A fatal mistake, wouldn’t you say?”
Dani gritted her teeth against the pain and struggled for another breath. He was right. She had been so worried about Lizzy, she hadn’t noticed that the fine wire she had rigged on the door to the cottage