Locke appraised his tuxedoed form in the mirror of the suite’s living room. Not bad for a scruffy engineer who’d almost been crushed to a pulp by a pile of bricks just two days ago. Someone had recovered his Glock after he’d dropped it during the truck chase. It had been a little battered, but a quick cleaning had returned it to working condition, and since Florida allowed the carrying of concealed weapons, he’d gotten a tux jacket one size too big to allow him to carry the pistol without a bulge in the suit. After that chase in Phoenix, he had a feeling he’d be needing it again, as well as his trusty Leatherman that he kept in a belt holster.
Once he had heard Sebastian Garrett’s name, Locke knew his previous employer was involved with everything that had happened. There was no doubt in his mind. Now the problem was proving it. Locke had spent the last 24 hours wondering how he was going to get the proof, with no success. It was a lot of coincidences that added up to a hunch. No one would question the word of one of the country’s wealthiest men, even if he was the leader of a shady religious organization.
Locke knew that Garrett’s combination of wealth and self-righteousness made him a very dangerous enemy. The FBI was already searching the ship and the luggage, so Locke decided to try a different approach. If he could surprise Garrett at the gala, he might be able to throw him off balance, goading him into making a mistake or at the very least into postponing whatever he was planning for the Genesis Dawn.
For just a moment after he’d decided to come to Miami, Locke had considered leaving Dilara behind. The thought of the two of them on ship where a virulent bioweapon was about to be deployed wasn’t comforting to either of them. But when he’d seen her with that locket and realized how important it was to her to find out who was responsible for her father’s death, he knew coming without her would be impossible. She needed to get to the bottom of this even more than he did.
“How’s it going in there?” Locke asked through the bedroom door.
“Almost ready,” Dilara said. “Just a few snags getting it on. It’s a little tight.”
“Need any help?”
“I’ll let you know if I do.”
A moment later, she slid the doors apart. Locke felt his mouth drop open, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
They had made a foray out of the TEC to an upscale Phoenix clothing store, where Dilara picked out a simple black evening gown and matching high heels. Locke hadn’t seen her try it on, so he was surprised when she revealed herself. Up until this point, Locke had seen her only in work clothes, her hair in a bun or ponytail and no makeup.
Now she was utterly transformed. Her raven hair fell past her shoulders and complemented the dress, which clung to her lithe torso before it draped to the floor. The front of the dress plunged into a V, showing off the sole piece of jewelry, her father’s locket. Her soft makeup highlighted her high cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes.
She gave a slight curtsy and said, “Well?”
Locke shook off his shock. “You look absolutely stunning.”
She smiled, looking both embarrassed and flattered by the compliment. “In my line of work, I don’t get to dress up often.”
“Well, let’s show everyone what they’ve been missing,” he said. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”
With the heels, she stood almost as tall as Locke. She took his arm and looked directly in his eyes, transfixing him. “I have to say that I never expected an engineer who looked so dashing in a tux.”
“Maybe I should wear one more often.”
“I think you should,” she said appreciatively. Then her voice turned businesslike. “Now let’s go see if we can get some answers.”
They exited the cabin onto a hallway that overlooked the center mall of the Genesis Dawn. The open atrium was the length of two football fields and nine decks high. The top seven decks held cabins that lined the balconies, while the bottom two decks were crowded with shops, restaurants and bars. At one end, three glass elevators carried the passengers who didn’t want to walk the spiral ramp that wrapped around them. The bottom level, fifty feet wide, had been transformed from a walkway into a grand ballroom for the gala. Thousands of guests jammed the atrium, while white-jacketed waiters cruised through carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
Locke was already scanning, looking for Garrett.
“Do you see him?” Dilara said as they walked down the hall to the elevator.
“Not yet,” he said. “With this many people, it might take a while.”
Locke spied a blond man animatedly holding forth with a group of couples intently focused on what he was saying. Locke stopped, recognizing the arm movements from his days in Hawaii when Garrett had talked his ear off about sin and retribution. The man looked around for just a second, and Locke got a clear view of his face. He was a handsome man, his features not as soft as Locke remembered, and his hair was as perfectly styled as his five- thousand-dollar tux.
It was Sebastian Garrett. He was accompanied by a slim young woman standing by his side.
“That’s him,” Locke said, nodding at him.
He had told Dilara some of his history with Garrett on their flight over from Phoenix.
“That’s the man who killed my father?” she said.
“I don’t know. But I’m willing to bet that he’s behind all this. He’s certainly capable of it.”
“He looks so charming. It’s hard to believe he’s a mass murderer.”
“We need to be careful with him, Dilara. He’s a dangerous man. Maybe even a sociopath. But he’s extremely intelligent. If we’re going to come away with anything, we’re going to have to play it just right. Follow my lead.”
He escorted her to the elevator, and when they got to the main floor, one of the ship’s exceptionally perky cruise directors saw them entering the gala.
“Care to purchase additional tickets for the raffle?” she asked. “Because you’re a guest, you’re automatically entered to win one of the great prizes over there.” She pointed to a platform in the middle of the floor. It was piled with shiny objects: a red Mustang convertible, two Suzuki motorcycles — one red, one black — plasma TVs, computers, and myriad other electronic equipment. The keys to the car and motorcycles, each with a fob matching the vehicle’s color, were displayed in a locked glass case along with the electronics.
“You increase your chances of us handing you one of those keys at the end of the trip,” the cruise director said, “if you buy additional tickets.”
“No thanks,” Locke said and grabbed a couple of champagnes for him and Dilara from a passing waiter. It took several minutes for them to wind their way through the crowd to a position behind Garrett. Locke felt Dilara’s grip tighten on his arm.
“I think I’ve seen that woman before,” she whispered in his ear.
“The one with Garrett?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In LAX. She’s the businesswoman who dropped her purse.”
“The one who poisoned Sam Watson?”
She nodded. “Her hair was different, and I only glimpsed her for a moment, so I can’t be sure. But her profile sent me back to that moment.”
“Would you remember her voice?”
“Maybe. The woman at LAX had an accent.”
“Let me know if you recognize it.”
Locke moved them closer so they could hear the conversation. Garrett had just finished speaking, and one of the men gathered around him asked him a question.
“I understand your point,” the portly man said, “but don’t you think it’s important to balance the business perspective with protecting the environment?”
“What balance can there be?” Garrett said. He spoke with baritone that to others probably sounded stately, but that Locke found flat and chilling. “Humanity is the most rapacious, destructive creature to ever roam the earth, extinguishing more species than any other animal in the planet’s history. I admit that many individuals care deeply for what we are doing to our world, but as a whole…well, I don’t believe the devastation will stop until something drastic occurs.”
