Daughter Of The Dragon Princess(6)

Cole shrugged. "His name is Malachite Smith. He's a government agent."  He quirked an eyebrow. "So you can see, Ms. Palmer, why we are a little  skeptical about your story."

Lily stared at him. "A government agent? Are you sure? How do you know he's not lying?"

"I've known Mal a long time," Cole said. "I've worked cases with him before. Unfortunately, I don't know you."

Lily had no clue what was going on. If he was a government agent, what  did that mean? Why would the government be interested in her?

"Right," Cole said. "Tell me what happened tonight." He reached forward  and pressed a button on the desk. "Interview with Lily Palmer, of 115  Beacon Way, Balham. Go ahead." He nodded to Lily.

She went through it slowly, trying to get everything straight in her  head, starting from when she had woken up and first seen Mal. She didn't  mention the strange sense of recognition. She didn't want Cole to think  she was crazy. Even if she was.         

     



 

Cole stopped her now and then with questions, and she tried to answer as  best she could. Mal remained silent until the point where she told of  the two men who had accosted her outside her apartment.

"Had you met them before?"

"No," she snapped.

He came around and stood over her, arms folded across his chest. No  doubt doing his best to look intimidating. Well hard luck. She'd gone  way beyond that.

"So you'd had no dealings with these men prior to tonight?" he asked.

"No. I told you. Why would you think I'd know them?" Her brows knitted. "Do you know who they are, Mr. Government Agent?"

Cole glanced up at him as well, obviously interested in the answer.

"You know," she said slowly, "they wanted the same thing you did."

Mal remained silent.

Cole glanced at him, then back at her. "And what's that, Ms. Palmer?"

"They both wanted to see the mark."

"Which mark would that be? No one's mentioned any mark before."

Lily frowned. Did she want to go there? The mark was something personal,  something she'd kept to herself and only shown to a few very close  friends all her life. Was she ready to bring it out into the open now?  Then again, she knew deep down that it held the answers. "I have a  mark," she said slowly. "I've had it all my life."

"A birth mark?"

"I don't know. But tonight, when he"-she nodded at Mal-"broke into my  apartment, he wanted to see it. And later, the others wanted to see it  as well. But all of them knew what they were looking for."

Cole put his hand to his head and rubbed his temple. "I have absolutely  no idea where this is going." He glanced at Mal. "You want to add  anything at this point?"

"No."

"No," Lily mimicked. "He's very good at saying that, isn't he? I suppose  it's classified," she sneered. "I bet he uses that one all the time. It  must be a good excuse for breaking and entering, and holding  defenseless women at gunpoint. Pervert," she muttered.

"Right," Cole said. "This mark, can I see it?"

"No," Mal said.

"Yes," she countered immediately. She would have said no herself, but  she wasn't agreeing with him. She tugged her T-shirt down off her  shoulder revealing the mark.

Cole whistled softly. "Now, where have I seen something like that before?"

"Exactly," Lily said.

"What is it?" Cole asked. "A tattoo?"

"I don't think so. I've had it since I was a baby." She nodded at Mal. "Why not ask him?"

"Mal?"

"Mine's a tattoo."

"Liar," she said.

"Then why the interest in it?" Cole asked him. "Why the break-in?"

"I thought we'd agreed it wasn't me."

Cole let out a long sigh. "Okay, let's get back to the story. Ms. Palmer-"

"Lily. Please, call me Lily." It might be an idea to get this man on her  side. She smiled at him and his eyes widened. Mal snorted. She glanced  at him. He rolled his eyes in obvious disgust, and she smiled at him as  well.

"Lily," Cole said, "why don't you finish up from where we left off?"

"What? You mean before Mr. Macho there, interrupted me with his pointless accusations."

Cole pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."

Lily finished her story. At the end, she sat back. "That's it, you opened the trunk, and there I was."

"Right," Cole said. "That's it for the moment. Do you have any questions?"

"The men who took me," Lily said. "They told me they knew my father.  Detective Cole, I don't know who my father is, or my mother. I've never  known. I was found abandoned as a baby, no one ever came forward, and I  grew up in a children's home. Why would they say that? How could they  know?"

Mal answered. "They don't. They can't, because your father's dead. He was dead before you were found."

"And how do you know that? Who are you?" She paused. "Who am I?"

Cole's cell phone rang; he glanced at the screen and stood up. "I have  to take this." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Lily sat in stunned silence. Did Mal really know so much about her, or  was he pretending? What did he want from her? He watched her, his  expression intense, and a shiver skittered down her spine.

"Please," she said, though she hated the idea of pleading with him. "Tell me what this is all about."         

     



 

"Not here, and not until I'm sure you don't already know."

Her anger flared again. "Why the hell would I ask if I already know?"

"Calm down." He gave a little smile. "You wouldn't want to set the station on fire, would you?"

He had a point. She folded her arms across her chest and ground her teeth.

"When we're away from here, I might just answer your questions. If you're a good girl."

"Patronizing bastard." She looked at him sharply. "What do you mean away from here? I'm not going anywhere with you."

He continued to smile, and at that moment, Cole returned, scowling.

"This is a load of crap. I've received orders," he said. "From about as high as you can go. You're to take her."

"What? I'm not going anywhere with him." But she knew, with a sinking  heart, that what she wanted was going to make no difference.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Palmer-Lily, but it's out of my hands." Cole handed Mal a  business card. "If you can't get me on my cell, work your way down the  list. And I want to be able to contact you. She's going to have to come  in to sign her statement. I've still got two dead cops and we will want  to question her further."

Mal took a card from his back pocket and gave it to Cole. He turned to  Lily and considered her, his head tilted to one side. "I want her in  cuffs."

"Is that necessary?"

"Cole," Mal said gently, "this is the woman who hit me over the head  with an extremely heavy object, so yes, I do think it's necessary."

Cole frowned. "I thought you said that wasn't you."

"I want the cuffs."

Lily glanced from one man to the other. She had believed she was safe. Now they were letting this maniac take her.

"You can't do this," she said to Cole.

"I'm sorry." He glanced down as though he couldn't face her and reached  behind him for a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "Hold out your hands."

She hid them behind her back. "Please, don't do this."

Cole took one of her arms and tugged it from behind her back. She didn't  resist-her mind numb-as he locked the cuff around her wrist, before  repeating the action with the other.

She couldn't believe this was happening; they were giving her to him,  handing her to him on a plate, defenseless, shackled like a common  criminal. She bit her lip and allowed a tear to spill over. No way was  he going to do this and not feel guilty.

"Jesus," Cole muttered wincing, but it didn't stop him handing the small  key to Mal. "She's all yours. Take care of her." He stalked out of the  room without a backward glance, leaving her alone with him.

"What now?" she asked not sure she was ready for an answer.

"We get out of here."

"And go where?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Come on."

He picked up her bag from the table and headed for the door. When she  didn't follow, he glanced around. She remained rooted to the spot, and  he stepped back and took her arm. She tried to flinch from the contact  but his grip was firm.

"I could carry you out of here."

She didn't want any more contact than was necessary. Her skin already  prickled from where he touched her. He glanced down, a frown forming on  his face, and his hand tightened on her arm.

"Please," she said. "Let go of me, and I'll come."

His grip loosened and his hand dropped away. Lily shivered and rubbed  awkwardly at the place where he'd held her, but this time, when he  headed for the door, she followed.