Read The Bestseller Job Page 9


  “You gonna give me a hard time, buster?” Eliot challenged Brad. He waved a forged document in Brad’s face. “This warrant says I go where I please, you got that?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Brad said, backing off. A guy had to be pretty ballsy—or stupid—to stand up to Eliot when he was being his intimidating self. Brad was no Starfleet science officer, but he wasn’t that dumb. “Whatever you say, Officer. I’m just trying to cooperate… fully.”

  “Is that so?” Eliot snorted. “Then maybe you can explain how it is that you’re in the process of receiving stolen goods from these two?”

  Brad tried to look innocent, but it didn’t come naturally. “Stolen?”

  “We have evidence,” Eliot said. “Ironclad evidence of this young lady breaking into Ms. Drury’s private residence and escaping with certain items that did not belong to her.” He spun Parker around and slapped some cuffs on her. “As well as proof that this other gentleman acted as her accomplice and getaway driver.”

  Hardison distanced himself from Parker, who pretended that the cuffs were actually a problem for her. He hid his own hands behind his back, out of sight and mind. “Moi? Why, I barely know this—”

  “Stop. Don’t even start with that.” Eliot glared at Hardison in a manner that, frankly, was all too familiar. “Where’s the briefcase?”

  “Briefcase?” Hardison played dumb. He looked at Brad. “You know anything about a briefcase?”

  “Over here, Officer!” Sophie rummaged through the bushes and emerged with the briefcase. She ran back onto the porch. “I saw him try to get rid of it as we pulled up!”

  “Gimme that,” Eliot ordered. He tried the combination lock, which refused to yield. He thrust the case at Hardison. “Open it!”

  Hardison stared at the case like he had never seen it before. They had to make this look good; he couldn’t cave too readily.

  “I’m sure I don’t know…”

  “Open it,” Eliot snarled.

  Brad exchanged a worried look with Hardison. He looked like he was about to throw up.

  Hardison dragged it out. “But—”

  “Open it.”

  Sighing in defeat, Hardison unlocked the case. The bottom half dropped open, spilling a thick manuscript and several spiral notebooks onto the porch. A flash drive landed at Eliot’s feet. Loose pages began to blow away.

  “You thieving pirates!” Sophie exclaimed. She rushed to gather up the loose pages before they could get too far. A breeze threatened to carry off Chapter Two. “How could you do this? Steal the fruits of a dead man’s genius?”

  “This your property, ma’am?” Eliot asked. He retrieved the fallen flash drive and carefully placed it into a plastic evidence bag.

  “You bet your badge it is!” Sophie declared. She skimmed the first few pages just to make sure, taking just long enough to make it believable. She looked up from the pages with a vindictive expression. “We’ve caught them red-handed!”

  “Wait a sec!” Brad protested, backing away from Hardison and Parker as though they were radioactive. He was already perspiring heavily. “I don’t know anything about this!”

  “He made me do it!” Parker blurted, nodding at Brad. “It was all his idea!” She rattled her cuffs. Hardison knew it had to be killing her to act like she couldn’t get out of them. “I… I’m the victim here!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Eliot said sarcastically. “And how is that?”

  Parker’s brow furrowed. She frowned sullenly. “Give me a minute. I’m working on it.”

  “I swear to you, Officer, I had nothing to do with this.” Brad tried and failed to look innocent. Agitated, he wrung his hands. “I didn’t know anything about a break-in!”

  “And these people just happened to show up on your doorstep?” Eliot said skeptically. “With a stolen manuscript by your brother in hand?”

  “Um, well…” Brad wiped sweat from his brow as he struggled visibly to come up with a plausible explanation. “They said they had some unpublished material by my late brother. How was I supposed to know they’d stolen it?”

  “You lying pig!” Sophie accused him. “You knew exactly who really had Gavin’s book. I told you all about it in Frankfurt!”

  “Back off, ma’am,” Eliot warned. He held up his palm like a traffic cop. “Let me handle this. I’m not going to tell you again.”

  “But you don’t believe him, do you?” Sophie sneered at Brad. “The man is a convicted criminal. Check his record!”

  Brad swallowed hard. “That’s all ancient history, Officer. I’m clean now, I swear to God.” He gestured frantically at Hardison and Parker. “These are the only thieves here, Officer. Not me!”

  Hardison gave him a wounded look. “Really, mate? You’re throwing us under the bus now? That’s what you’re doing?” He shook his head sadly. “I expected better of you, Brad. I really did.”

  “I was hypnotized!” Parker came out with. She hopped up and down to get everyone’s attention. “That’s right! I was hypnotized… or brainwashed! He washed my poor, innocent brain!”

  You know, Hardison thought, that would explain a lot.

  “Listen to her, Officer! She’s crazy!” Brad was getting more desperate by the moment. His voice went up several octaves. “They’re making this all up. It’s their word against mine!”

  “Says the sleazy ex-con who ought to be in jail,” Sophie said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She regarded him as she would a slug—or a slush pile. “You think your word means anything?”

  “Shut up, you bitch!” Brad snapped. “You’re not helping!”

  “Watch it, mister!” Eliot grabbed on to Brad’s tracksuit and shoved him up against one of the looming Corinthian columns. His fists bunched up the velour fabric. “Just ’cause you live in some big, fancy-pants mansion doesn’t mean you can act like a punk. You hearing me?”

  “Yes, Officer,” Brad whimpered. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It had better not.” Eliot backed off and let go of Brad’s suit. “I’m watching you, mister.”

  The chastened ex-con gasped, struggling to catch his breath. He sagged against the ostentatious marble column.

  “Look, Officer—” Hardison squinted at Eliot’s badge. “Officer Kolchak, I understand that you’re a busy man. Is it too early to start cutting a deal? I’m prepared to give evidence against Mr. Lee here in exchange for a good word with the D.A. I’ll spill my guts like a sliced halibut—”

  “Wait!” Brad cried out. “Be quiet!”

  “Sorry, chum.” Hardison shrugged apologetically. “It’s every thief for his self now.” He glanced at Parker. “Hell, I’ll even throw in my female associate as a bonus.”

  “Hypnotized!” she repeated. “Did I mention I was hypnotized?”

  “Just check out his den,” Hardison suggested. “I’m willing to bet that you’ll find a suitcase with fifty thousand dollars in unmarked bills. All part of our deal.”

  It was a safe bet. He had personally watched Brad assemble the cash via a hijacked webcam. The payoff money was right there, just waiting for Eliot’s bogus search warrant. And Brad knew it.

  “Um, I can explain that.” Brad tugged on his collar. “That’s… a charitable donation I was getting ready to make, anonymously, to, um, the Boy Scouts.”

  “The Boy Scouts? Seriously?” Hardison rolled his eyes. “Okay, now you’re just embarrassing yourself, mate.” He turned back toward Eliot. “There’s more, Officer. Subpoena his phone records and e-mails. I think you’ll discover that Mr. Lee here has already been negotiating to sell the very book we just… acquired… from Ms. Drury’s residence.”

  “And why not?” Brad blustered. “The book belongs to me anyway!” He appealed to Eliot. “Even if what they’re saying is true, and I’m not saying it is, I was just trying to recover my own property, which was being illegally withheld from me. Maybe, hypothetically, I didn’t go about it the right way, but you can’t arrest a guy for stealing his own property.” He looked hopefully at Eliot. ?
??Can you?”

  Eliot confiscated the briefcase and its contents from Sophie, who surrendered them with a show of reluctance. He regarded Brad dubiously. “You saying this book belongs to you?”

  “Yes! And I can prove it.” Brad pulled out his phone and called up a certain video clip. “My brother, who wrote the book, willed his entire estate to me.” He held the phone up to Eliot. “Listen!”

  Gavin’s voice issued from the phone:

  “Hi. This is Gavin James Lee, recording this video will on September fourth, 2012. Being of sound mind and body, I wish to bequeath my entire estate, including all rights to my complete literary output, to my girlfriend, collaborator, and soul mate, Denise Maria Gallo.” He sighed audibly. “Denise, sweetheart, I’m hoping you’ll never see this video, but I want to make sure you won’t lose everything we’ve worked for, just in case something happens to me. You’re my best friend and partner, and the only person I trust to look after our work. I love you.”

  “Wha—?” Brad stared at the phone in shock. “Wait a second. That’s not right. That’s not what it said before…”

  A FEW MINUTES AGO:

  Parker trotted up the steps beside Hardison. She “stumbled” on the top step and fell toward Brad. “Oops!” She grabbed onto him briefly, supposedly to steady herself, while deftly lifting his phone from his pocket. Backing away, she gave the steps a dirty look. “You should get that fixed.”

  While Hardison chatted with Brad, keeping him occupied, she turned her back on them and quietly deleted the first version of the will from Gavin’s phone. She then discreetly dialed Nate, who transmitted the new version to the phone.

  “You got it?” he asked in her ear.

  She checked to make sure Video Will 2.0 had arrived safely.

  “Yep,” she whispered beneath her breath.

  In theory, a built-in worm would cause any backup copies of the original phony will to delete themselves from wherever they were being stored. Now all she had to do was wait for the right opportunity to put the phone back where it belonged.

  She didn’t have to wait long…

  Eliot’s car came roaring up the drive, right on schedule. She winced at the blaring sirens.

  “Oh, no.” Hardison acted alarmed. He turned on her in a way she would never tolerate if it had been for real. “Were we followed? You were supposed to make sure we weren’t followed!”

  “Don’t blame me!” she snapped. “Why is it always my fault?” She brushed against Brad, replacing the phone, while play-arguing with Hardison. She jabbed his chest with her finger to sell the scene, just like Sophie had suggested. “Damn it, I told you this exchange was too risky!”

  “Wait!” Brad looked alarmed. “What’s happening?”

  You’re being played, she thought. That’s what.

  “I don’t understand,” Brad said, bewildered. “That’s all wrong.”

  “I don’t know. It sounded very clear-cut to me.” Sophie stepped forward and plucked the traitorous phone from Brad’s fingers. He was too numb to put up a fuss. She handed the phone over to Eliot for safekeeping. “So how long have you been sitting on Gavin’s last will and testament, Brad? Concealing your own brother’s final requests? That’s low even for you.”

  “No!” Brad sputtered. “That’s a fake!” He pointed at Hardison. “This is some sort of trick. He faked that will, but now he’s changed it somehow!”

  “Whoa there!” Eliot said. His eyes narrowed ominously. “Did I hear you right? Did you just confess to taking part in a conspiracy to commit a fraud?”

  “What? No!” Brad’s face fell as he realized he was digging himself even deeper into a hole. He feebly attempted to backpedal. “That is, I mean…”

  “So what is it?” Eliot demanded, getting all up in Brad’s face. “That will genuine or not?”

  “Well, um… you see…”

  “You weren’t trying to deceive a police officer, were you?”

  “No, never! It’s just that…”

  Brad looked like he didn’t know whether he was coming or going, which was precisely what they were after. “I… um…” Tongue-tied, and terrified of saying the wrong thing, he stammered incoherently. “The thing is… you see… it’s just…”

  “Answer me!” Eliot growled. He unhooked a second pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Or I’m taking you all down to the station right this minute!”

  “No, please!” Brad squealed. A two-time loser, and then some, he was looking at serious jail time if he got convicted again, not to mention the almost certain revocation of his parole. No doubt visions of concrete walls and prison cells were closing in on his imagination. Brad wasn’t the kind of tough guy who could fend for himself in a hard-core penal environment. He sounded scared out of his wits. “There must be a way we can work something out.”

  “Well, actually…”

  Sophie moved in for the kill. She let an avaricious gleam light up her eyes. Her voice took on a calculating tone.

  “Officer Kolchak, this matter has already taken up too much of your valuable time. I don’t wish to burden you or the judicial system any more than necessary.” She gently took Eliot’s arm and batted her lashes at him in a way that would probably turn Nate fifty shades of green if it hadn’t been part of a con. “And, as much as I’m loath to admit it, Brad is my client’s boyfriend’s brother. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to see him behind bars… again.”

  A flicker of hope appeared on Brad’s face. It was a thing of beauty.

  “What are you suggesting, ma’am?” Eliot asked.

  Sophie regarded Brad coolly. “I’m prepared to drop all charges—if Mr. Lee returns my property and agrees not to contest Gavin’s will.” She smirked at Brad. “I’ll want that in writing, of course.”

  Eliot took his time thinking it over, letting Brad sweat.

  “Well, Mr. Lee,” he said finally. “What do you say?”

  Brad hesitated, no doubt torn between his plans to cash in on his brother’s legacy and the daunting prospect of going back to jail for a long term. For a second, Hardison worried that they might have hyped the imaginary sequel too much. What if Brad couldn’t bring himself to part with those profits, no matter what?

  “Don’t give in, mate,” he called out, attempting a little reverse psychology. “All you need to do is stick it out for another ten to twenty, maybe a trifle more, and hope that those royalties are still waiting for you. Prison’s not so bad. You’ve done time before.” His face lighted up. “Hey, maybe we can be cell buddies?”

  “Hypnotized,” Parker repeated. “I’m just saying, hypnotized.”

  “Shut up, you two.” Eliot leaned on Brad, literally playing the bad cop. “Make up your mind, buster. I’ve got better things to do than sort out who owns some stupid spy novel. I’ve got real killers and rapists to catch, damn it.”

  Brad looked plaintively at Sophie. “Fifty-fifty?”

  “No deal,” Sophie said, enjoying the upper hand. “You had your chance to play nice. It’s all or nothing now.”

  Brad was up against a wall and he knew it. A pitiful whimper escaped his blubbery lips.

  “Okay, okay,” he caved. “The book’s yours.”

  “Both books,” Sophie clarified. “Gavin’s entire literary estate.”

  “Yes.” He dragged the word out like he was coughing up a hardcover. He stared glumly at his feet. “Both books. You win.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the looming mansion. “Should’ve known it was too good to be true.”

  You don’t know the half of it, Hardison thought.

  “Fine,” Eliot said impatiently. He handed the briefcase over to Sophie. “Are we done here?”

  “So it appears.” Sophie strolled back toward the waiting police car. “Can I prevail upon you for a ride to the train station?”

  “Why not?” He shook his head in disgust. “All of this over a dumb book. Intellectual property, my ass. Don’t call me again unless there’s a dead body or a broken window.” He rolled his eyes.
“A spy novel, for Pete’s sake!”

  “You should read it.” Parker handed Eliot back his cuffs, which she had deftly slipped out of. “I couldn’t put it down.”

  He glared at her in a very believable fashion.

  “C’mon, girl.” Hardison took her arm and guided her toward their borrowed sports car. “I don’t know about you, Miss Lincoln, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” He waved a cheery good-bye at Brad. “So long, mate. Sorry things didn’t work out.”

  “I’ll fax you the necessary paperwork,” Sophie called out from the drive. “Do be a dear and sign it right away. I wouldn’t want to have to ask Officer Kolchak to make a return trip.”

  “Nah, that wouldn’t be a good idea,” Eliot said. He gave Brad a look that had made stronger men soil their undergarments. “Trust me on that.”

  Brad nodded. They left him standing on the porch of his mansion, which he probably wouldn’t be keeping much longer. He looked well and truly defeated.

  “Good job, everyone,” Nate congratulated them over the comms. “That was almost too easy.”

  Hardison looked around for some wood to knock on. He rapped his knuckles against a convenient shrub.

  Don’t jinx it, he thought.

  | | | | | | NINE | | | | | |

  MANHATTAN

  “Oh my God, you did it! This is fantastic!”

  Denise was overcome with emotion as she met with the Leverage crew in their hotel suite to hear the good news. Tears of happiness filled her eyes as she hugged Eliot, who had personally escorted her to the meeting. The rest of the team were also on hand to enjoy the moment, seated around a polished walnut coffee table in front of a toasty fireplace. Sunshine filtered through filmy curtains. Less than four hours had passed since the con at Brad’s mansion, and they already had what they wanted. Assassins Never Forget belonged to Denise now.

  “Thank you so much!” she gushed. “All of you!”

  A frown crossed Eliot’s face as he hugged her back. He wished he felt better about this victory, but Gavin was still dead—and important issues were unresolved.