henhouse. And his name is Colonel Sanders.'
'I hear ya.' Tony nodded. 'Old-fashioned or extra crispy? Either way, we're fried.'
Mrs. Dunhill's voice broke the eerie calm of the room. 'I hate to interrupt his sport, but I'm sure you have work to do, a murder to solve.'
The floor below grew quiet. On the hunt again, the fox searched for his next victim. Fiona Dunhill stepped forward, speaking into the intercom. Her voice echoed into the cavern. 'Christian? We have guests. And I need to speak to you, please.'
Slowly, the men stood and removed their headgear, but only after Christian capitulated by raising his hands. Lights gradually brightened and the guards dispersed. The war games were over.
After a furtive glance, she turned off the intercom to give Christian and her some privacy. 'If you'll excuse me. I'll only be a moment.' The older woman left the room and descended the stairs, looking unsettled for the first time today.
'Something we said?' Tony chided.
Yet Raven felt uneasy, strangely disappointed the match was at an end. Drawing closer to the viewing window, she nibbled at the inside of her lip, waiting. When Mrs. Dunhill approached the man left standing, he tugged at his black hood. Raven found herself eager to put a face to the name of Christian Delacorte.
Barely winded, Christian pulled off the black hood, then yanked the underlying blindfold to hang around his neck. His dark hair tousled, he ran fingers through the waves to straighten it. With a questioning look, he asked, 'What's up, Fiona? What's so important?' Concern softened his usually solemn expression.
'Sorry to have interrupted you, Christian. But something has happened. I need your help.' She watched his reaction.
'Anything. Just ask.' Tossing the hood aside, he reached for a black T-shirt lying across a sandbag barricade. Ready to pull it over his head, he stopped when she reached for his arm.
'Don't be so quick to volunteer.' She felt the warmth of his skin, slick with sweat. 'I'll understand if you can't do as I ask. But I don't trust anyone else.'
'That sounds ominous,' he replied. His rich voice echoed in the war room. 'Guess you better fill me in. Come on. I'll follow you upstairs.'
'No. We can't go up just yet. I need to talk to you here, now.'
Without pushing, he waited for her to speak. Christian's penetrating stare caught her by surprise. His gaze acted like a truth detector. Even in childhood, his eyes best captured his guarded nature. It hadn't always been so, but tragedy changed a person. She knew that from experience.
'Two homicide detectives are in the observation room. Mickey Blair got himself killed last night.' Saying it aloud made her stomach twist. 'His particular skills earned him business apart from his security work at Dunhill. And I'm afraid this work may have contributed to his death.'
Christian narrowed his eyes, the sternness back in his expression. 'What are you leaving out?'
At first, Fiona didn't know what to make of Mickey Blair's death. The man had seen the dark side of her nature and had kept her secret, true enough. But with him dead, there was no one left to tell. She might have felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, except for one thing. Someone else had pointed an accusing finger by stepping in the middle and killing Blair in the process. And that scared the hell out of her.
Christian waited for her answer. Revealing everything to him might cost her his devotion, so she tempered her candor with a gnarled fraction of the truth.
'In a past life, I did some things I'm not proud of. And Mickey was part of that life.' Her throat clenched. A tear slid down her cheek. She turned her head, avoiding his stare.
'Did you have anything to do with—' He stopped. As he stepped closer, she heard his whisper. 'Just tell me what to do. I'll protect you.' His hand gently squeezed her shoulder.
His willingness to safeguard her interests, without fully understanding the truth, touched her deeply. It reassured her she'd chosen the right man to trust with her life. Turning, she looked him in the eye, speaking in a hushed tone.
'No. I didn't have him killed. At least, not in the way you might imagine.'
'You're being so damned cryptic. How can I help if I don't understand.'
'I need you to work with the police on their investigation. They've already agreed to—' She never got the chance to finish before he shot back.
'What? Why the hell would I—' Anger brought color to his cheeks. He pulled away from her, throwing his shirt to the floor. 'You know how I feel about the damned police.'
'And I wouldn't ask you to do this if it weren't my last option, Christian.' She hated seeing his pain revisited. Every muscle in his body tensed with her cry for help. 'I don't trust anyone else. Please.'
'Damn it, Fiona!' He crossed his arms over his bare chest, his face tight with a grimace. After a long moment, he dropped his head and eased the tension in his muscles. 'Damn it,' he whispered. 'What do you need me to do?'
Raven spotted another security camera following her every move in the observation room. The whole estate was overrun with red blinking eyes of the high-tech variety. Nudging her head in the direction of the surveillance equipment, she informed her partner.
'Looks like Big Brother is watching. They probably got cameras in the john. What do you think?'
'God, I hope not. I gotta use the facilities before we leave. If they got cameras in there, then my big secret will be out. Every woman in the greater Chicago area will be lookin' for some lovin' from Don Juan Rodriguez.' He smirked, raising an eyebrow.
'Probably more like Speedy Gonzales. And it's amazing your ego fits in this room.' She rolled her eyes, then turned to watch the drama unfolding in the war room. From this distance, she couldn't tell much about his looks, not having a clear view of his face. But it would appear Java boy didn't like his new assignment, gauging by his anger. This was just fine by her. She didn't need a new partner. 'Would love to be a fly on the wall down there.'
'With your luck, you'd get swatted once the lights went out. The guy's deadly in the dark.'
'Story of my life, partner.' She shrugged.
Before Tony asked what she meant by that, her cell phone rang. Saved by the bell. She answered the call, 'Mackenzie.'
'Detective Mackenzie?' a soft voice called her name amidst the static of a bad connection.
'Father Antonio? Is that you?' Knitting her brow, she pressed a finger to her other ear. 'I can barely hear you.'
'Yes, it's me. You said to call if I remembered anything.' The priest raised his voice.
Raven paced the floor trying to get better reception, but nothing helped. 'Yeah, I did. Do you have something to add?'
Leaning against the viewing window, she plugged her ear tighter. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement down below. Mrs. Dunhill and Christian Delacorte were headed upstairs, with Mr. Security slipping a T- shirt over his head. With her so close to the glass, she was pleased she couldn't be seen from their side of the two-way mirror. But soon, her privacy would be gone.
'There was a man in the cemetery last night.'
'You saw someone?' Hunching her shoulders, she tried to find a spot that gave her the least amount of static. Had she heard the priest right? Tony stepped closer, nearer the viewing window.
'Yes, well, sort of. But he didn't come to the chapel that night. He broke the pattern.'
'What are you saying, Father?'
'I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense. Let me start over. I saw a man in the cemetery last night, just before I went to the chapel. Probably why I was late.'
'Did you recognize the man, Father Antonio?' She heard hope in her voice. But the sound of footsteps on the stairs, outside the room, made her heart beat faster. 'What did you see?'
'I didn't really see his face clearly, but I know who he is from researching his family's gravesite. I've got
