Ty wouldn"t let this go without payback, and Zane resigned himself to his fate with a small smirk. It had been worth it.
Chapter 12
TY DIDN"T bother changing once he got to their cabin. He did take off his coat and toss it on the couch as he moved past it. After a moment"s thought, he also regretfully pulled their one gun out of his waistband and set it down on a side table. He didn"t have a holster to carry it safely, and if he had the bad luck to get caught in Armen"s room, having a weapon would only increase his chances of being shot.
Muttering, he dug into their luggage and found the portable scanner Knight had outfitted them with before they"d left Baltimore. He shoved it into one of the deep pockets of his satin-lined tuxedo trousers and headed for the balcony. He tried not to think about just how badly it would hurt to smack into the water so many stories below as he hoisted himself up onto the slippery railing. His knuckles were white as he gripped the thick partition that he would need to swing around to reach Armen"s balcony.
He was beginning to wish Zane had objected to this plan.
Ty took a deep breath, dug his fingers under the slight lip at the edge of the partition, and swung his foot out over open air. He threw the weight of his body with it, knowing the railing on that side would be just as slippery and damp as his side was and hoping to propel himself over it rather than bouncing off of it and toppling into the sea.
The strategy worked, sort of.
It wasn"t nearly as difficult as he"d imagined it would be, and he went sailing over the balcony and landed in an ungraceful heap on the deck.
He popped to his feet and looked around, straightening his shirt and nodding. “I"m okay,” he said to the deck chairs. He cleared his throat and tried not to laugh at himself, glad that this was a solo mission. Zane would never have let him live it down if he"d seen that nimble bit of action.
He headed for the glass doors of the balcony, confident that they"d be unlocked. No one ever locked their balcony doors, trusting in gravity to keep intruders out. So he was nonplussed when he found the glass sliding door not only locked but barred with a piece of wood.
“Son of a….” He looked around for something to counter the low-tech obstacle. He didn"t want to leave evidence of his being here, so throwing a piece of furniture through the door was not a good idea. He slipped out his knife and knelt in front of the door, sliding it through the crack and easily tripping the lock. He was able to get the door open an inch or so, but then the piece of wood stopped it. It appeared to be a thick cord of balsa wood, most likely taken from a piece of decorative furniture in the suite. Ty slipped his hand through the crack and pushed with all his strength, levering himself against the wall. Nothing budged for a moment, save for perhaps a tendon or two in his elbow that wasn"t supposed to stretch that way, but then the wood gave in to the pressure.
It didn"t so much snap as it imploded, bursting into little shreds and causing the door to fly open. Ty pitched forward as soon as the door was no longer there to take his weight and fell face-first into the deck.
Again.
He pushed himself up with a grumbled “I hate this case” and crawled into the stateroom.
ZANE settled back into his seat after a small smile at Norina and reached for his water glass. Bianchi waved down a waiter, who promised to bring more drinks immediately, as well as their salads.
Zane wondered if he"d have to come up with any sort of ploy to keep Armen here, since they were literally starting dinner.
“Mr. Porter, could I trouble you a moment?” Armen"s voice broke into Bianchi"s ongoing monologue about the relative benefits of wine and a middle-aged man"s health.
Zane glanced at Armen, curious. “Sure.”
“If you"re not going to enjoy that Scotch, it"s a shame for it to go to waste,” Armen said. He sounded a little harried.
With a small shrug, Zane waved a hand at it. “Be my guest.”
Armen nodded his thanks and picked up the lowball glass from in front of Zane, immediately taking a strong slug out of the glass. Zane watched, somewhat intrigued. He didn"t remember ever seeing Armen drink, even during the poker games.
When he set the glass down, he actually smiled wanly at Zane.
“Such business often causes me undue stress,” he explained, almost embarrassed to admit it. Zane blinked at him but offered him a benign smile.
Their salads arrived a few minutes later; ten minutes had passed since Ty left. Zane joined in a new conversation as Norina talked about upcoming dance classes on board, but he kept an eye on Armen, who started fidgeting slightly. And it had to be a trick of the subtle lighting in the restaurant, because when Armen abruptly dropped his salad fork, Zane would have sworn the man was pale and sweating.
“Mr. Armen, are you all right?” Zane asked with a frown.
Armen cleared his throat twice before pushing back from the table. “I"m afraid I"m not feeling well. Please… excuse me,” he said softly, and even as Zane said, “Wait,” he was up and moving woodenly out of the restaurant.
“I hope he is not seasick,” Norina said.
Zane shook his head. It had only been about twenty minutes. Not enough time. Now Armen and his two trailing bodyguards were on their way back to his cabin, and Zane had no way to warn Ty.
“I think I"m going to go check on Del before the entrees arrive,”
Zane murmured, placing his napkin next to his nearly untouched salad as he stood.
“Hurry back. You do not want your dinner to get cold. And bring my Del back with you!” Norina bid him. Zane nodded as he walked away, hoping he could catch up enough to follow Armen back to his stateroom—Zane could shoulder his way in past the bodyguards if he had to.
If Ty needed him, he would be there.
TY SAT behind the large desk in one part of the suite, flipping through documents and reading over them quickly. He was using the portable scanner to make copies of some of the papers, but he knew he didn"t have time to copy every one. He was trying to glean critical information and determine which ones might be pertinent while keeping an ear toward the front of the suite.
His head jerked up when he heard a scratching at the door, then the distinctive sound of the key card being swiped. He glanced around the stateroom furtively, looking for a place to hide. There was no way he"d get out the door and around the balcony partition in time without being seen.
He ducked behind the desk and cursed inwardly when he realized there was no back to the damn thing. He saw a pair of legs enter the stateroom and several more in the hallway. Armen and his bodyguards.