Intend To Seduce(30)

"I'll see to it right away."

She was closing the door to the suite when it struck her. Had Sophie used her ID in the same way?

Leaning back against the door, she forced herself to think. It had been fun buying the wigs and then putting them on in the back room of Sophie's shop. But what if it had been more than just a lark for Sophie? Was it possible that she had switched the purses on purpose?

Thinking back, Mac tried to recall Sophie's exact words in the tree house. The next time I find a man I like, I'm going to make sure he doesn't know I'm Sophie Wainright.

It had been Sophie's idea to buy the wigs and the matching purses and raincoats. She'd blamed it on the fact that Lucas was having her followed, and that she desperately needed a break. What if her plan all along had been to go somewhere and actually pretend to be someone else? Like MacKenzie Lloyd.

Mac strode down the hall to get her bag. The sooner she got to D.C., the sooner she would be able to figure out where Sophie had gone.

*

"Report." Vincent Falcone gestured his son into a chair on the other side of his desk. In his hand, he held a glass of Falcone Vineyards 1998 Cabernet Franc. Currently it was his favorite vintage, and it would only improve with age. Beyond the glass that walled his office on two sides, grapevines marched in neat little rows until they began to climb the hills in the distance.

"A crew will be here shortly after three on Saturday to inflate the hot-air balloons. They can take any of our guests up until sunset."

Vincent lifted his glass of wine and watched the play of light in its depths. Sonny had purchased four hot-air balloons just last week. Offering free rides would draw crowds to the vineyards and sell more wine, Sonny had said in defense of his expenditure.

"And about the other business?" Vincent asked.

"Everything's going as planned."

"You have a signed contract?"

Sonny shifted in his chair. "I will by Saturday."

"You said you'd have it last week."

"I know, but there's been a little delay."

"In business, delays can be fatal."

"I have a man on the inside who assures me that I will have the contract by Saturday."

Vincent said nothing.

Sonny shifted again in his chair. "I am perfectly capable of running Lansing Biotech. I know you don't trust me. But I've got everything under control."

His son was lying. Worse than that, he was a fool. Vincent took a sip of his wine and let the flavors linger on his tongue. There were fools in every family, almost as if the stronger genes that ran in a bloodline had to take a break before they could appear again.

In the Wainright family, the weak genes had made their appearance in Lucas's father. It was too bad that Lucas hadn't inherited more of those weaknesses and fewer of his grandfather's strengths.

But in the end, it wouldn't make any difference. Vincent was not going to allow his business connection with Wainright Enterprises to be severed. That was why he'd arranged for Lucas's sister and Sonny to meet in Georgetown.

And that was why he'd held his tongue about the balloons when he'd learned that they were part of Sonny's campaign to impress Sophie Wainright. Vincent could picture her now, riding in one of them with Sonny just as Lucas arrived at the party. A picture was often worth a thousand words.

"Why don't you bring Sophie here for dinner tonight?" he said as he lifted his glass to his lips and took another sip.

"She's busy. She has to make a presentation tomorrow."

"A presentation? I thought she flew out here specifically to see you."

Sonny frowned. "She did. But … she hasn't yet admitted to me that she's really Sophie Wainright. She's still pretending to be this Susan Walker person. I thought of telling her today that I'm aware of the masquerade."

Vincent shook his head. "Best to wait until she tells you." And the fact that she hadn't told him wasn't a good sign. Sonny had always had a way with women, so bringing the two of them together had been worth a shot.

Setting his glass down on his desk, he said, "You'd better go work on that contract."

He waited for his son to leave the office before he sighed.

It was a damn good thing he had a backup plan to handle Lucas Wainright.

*

Home. It was the foremost thought in Mac's mind as she paid the taxi driver and climbed the porch steps of her duplex. She knew where Sophie was, and she was safe. Just as soon as she got inside, she would face the task of calling Lucas's office to let him know. He wouldn't take the call though. She'd convinced herself of that. He wouldn't want to speak with her ever again, so she wouldn't have to hear his voice. All she'd have to do was leave the information with his secretary.

Setting her bag down, she fished in her purse for her keys. All she'd had to do was call the 800 number on her credit card and ask for the latest posted charges. It was all there – an airline ticket to San Francisco and another charge to the Château Mirabeau in the Napa Valley. Sophie hadn't answered the phone when she'd called, but the desk clerk had promised to give her the message.

She swept her hand one last time across the bottom of her purse. Where were her keys? Then it hit her. She didn't have them because Sophie had her purse. Moving quickly to her neighbor's door, she knocked but without much hope. The stockbroker who shared the Georgetown duplex with her wasn't likely to be home from the office yet.

After a few moments, she dropped her bag on the porch and hurried around the side of the house. She was going to have to break in, and one of the basement windows was her best bet. Dropping to her knees, she picked up a good-size rock. Then, just to make sure, she leaned close and peered through the glass. The latch was secure.

"Ma'am?"

Startled, Mac whirled to face the man standing directly behind her. "Who are you?"

"Detective Ramsey, District of Columbia Police Department." He showed her the badge he'd removed from his pocket. "Now, why don't you tell me who you are?"

"I'm MacKenzie Lloyd. I live here."

"And the rock in your hand is for…?"

Mac quickly put the rock down on the ground. "I don't have my key, and my neighbor isn't home to give me the spare."

The detective studied her for a moment. "You have some I.D.?"

"Yes." She was reaching into her purse when she realized that she didn't. "No. My friend and I switched purses. Her name is Sophie Wainright and I have her I.D." She handed the detective her wallet.

After glancing through it briefly, he said, "According to the security people at the university, MacKenzie Lloyd has red hair. Yours is blond."

Mac lifted off the wig. "I had to wear it so that I could get on the plane. All I had was Sophie's I.D." Running her hands through her hair, she glanced up at him. "Isn't this where you advise me that I have the right to remain silent?"

Fishing a photo out of his pocket, he glanced at it, then at her. "I don't think that will be necessary. You look a lot like the picture I have of Dr. Lloyd. We've been trying very hard to get a hold of you, Doctor. Don't you ever answer your cell phone?"

"Yes, of course." She pulled it out of her bag and then stared at it. It just hadn't been her cell phone she'd been answering. "My friend has mine."

Detective Ramsey nodded. "Well, she's not answering it either. Where have you been, Dr. Lloyd?"

"I took a few days off and went down to the Florida Keys."

He nodded. "That fits with what the university told us. But they were worried when they couldn't get hold of you. I have some bad news for you. Sometime on Wednesday, your apartment was broken into. One of your neighbors called it in, and then tried to reach you at the university. Somebody high up at the college is very concerned about you and your research and they called us. They think the break-in here and the one at the university are related. They also said you'd planned to take a few days off, but no one at the lab, not even your colleague Dr. Stafford, knew where you were. The timing of this break-in made them worry that perhaps … you hadn't gone away voluntarily."

Mac's eyes widened. "They thought I was kidnapped?"

"They wanted to file a missing persons report. Officially, we can't let anyone do that for forty-eight hours. In the meantime, the commissioner assigned me to keep an eye on your place. A lot of people are going to be relieved that you're back."

Mac stared at him. "I just went to the Florida Keys for a little … vacation. I'm fine."

"Well, the bad news is your apartment isn't. Whoever broke in was looking for something and they were pretty thorough. If you feel up to it, I'd like you to take a look and tell me what's missing, or what they might have been after."

"Of course." She could hardly refuse. But she wanted to. During the short time it took the detective to lead her back to the front porch and open the door, she tried to prepare, to steel herself for the sight. She still remembered what it had felt like when she'd first learned about the break-in at the lab. Her head pounded, her stomach clutched at the memory. This would be easier, she told herself as Ramsey led her inside.

It wasn't. The place was in a shambles – sofas and chairs overturned, lamps shattered, pictures torn out of their frames. In the kitchen, the cupboards and even the refrigerator had been emptied. Shards of glass and china lay over everything.

Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to reach for control. Lucas had weakened it, but it still had to be there. If she could just reach deep enough.