Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(128)

Her grandmother's lawyer was dressed in all black, looking totally unkempt. All traces of the polished professional he'd been before were gone. He'd always put off a weird vibe, but now, with his fierce frown, he was downright nasty.

What was he doing here with a gun?

"Move him out of the way," Gates sneered with a glance at Tate. "We'll need to stage this properly, damn it. He's a complication we didn't need." His cold eyes raked the woman behind Belle. "You said she would be alone."

Sir scampered over to Tate, sniffing and whimpering as he tried to rouse his master. The puppy whined and looked to Belle, as though she could fix the problem. She wished with everything in her heart that she could because Tate still wasn't moving. Fear spiked through her veins. She needed to get to him, but the supposed psychic gripped her too tightly. Belle's brain whirled. What the hell was going on here? 

Helena huffed. "She was supposed to be. I told the man who called to make the appointment with me that the house had to be cleared. It's how I usually work. It's way easier to con a single person than a whole group. There's almost always a skeptical friend the mark will bring along, if you let her."

So Helena wasn't a real psychic? Why had Mike recommended her? And why was she here with Gates? Had her grandmother's lawyer been behind the attempts to scare her off all along?

"You?" she asked him in horror.

"Me," he said simply.

"W-why?"

Gates stopped in the middle of the hallway and checked his gun. "Your grandmother had information I need. I've had this place bugged for years, hoping I'd figure out where she kept it hidden. Eventually, I figured out that she passed it on with the business she sold. But Karen brought it to her in the end. She considered the bitch her mentor or some shit. In fact, she came here at least once a week, but they talked mostly about the old days and their families, even the fucking weather. I think they knew someone was listening in."

Belle bit her lip to hold in a gasp. Grandma's own attorney had been spying on her?

"Are you going to do your job?" Gates asked Helena in a sour tone. "If not, I could have you tossed in jail. My client can make that happen, you know. He's a very important judge. He has favors he can call in everywhere. If you turn on me, you won't see the light of day for a long time, you con artist."

Belle really didn't know what they were talking about, but it all sounded ominous. Two against one, and they had weapons. The odds weren't looking good.

"Like I said, I'll do the job," Helena shot back, and Belle didn't think she meant cleansing the house of spirits. "I have zero interest in going to jail. I don't look good in orange. Where's your friend? I told you how we should set this up. I studied up on the suicides and the haunting. We can set this up to play straight into the legends about this place."

Meaning that someone would have to die by hanging, like those two Peterman girls? Belle's blood ran cold.

Gates nodded. "Everything we need is on its way. I told him to park far from the house so no one remembers his truck being here this evening. We'll set everything up right. But first I need to get that list. You know what could happen if that fucking thing gets out. It would ruin my client and many of his very powerful friends."

"I'm sure," the medium murmured. "Tell me something, Gates, are you on that list, too?"

What list did they keep referring to? Was that the all-fired important information Gates had been spying on her grandmother to obtain?

Sir suddenly barked, and Belle felt a chill pass through her.

The woman behind her shivered. "Fuck, I hate this place. If I didn't know better, I would say it's actually haunted."

Gates barked. "You bought the act, too? Christ, I'd have thought you were too jaded to believe in things that go bump in the night. This place is no more haunted than my ass."

So his refusal to step foot in the house earlier had all been an act? Belle felt foolish for having fallen for it.

Helena looked skeptical. "Just walking in here makes me sick. We need to get this done as quickly as possible. What are you going to do with that guy? Is he dead?"



       
         
       
        

The door opened again, and all of Belle's questions about who had left her the frightening messages since her arrival were answered. Mike, the electrician, stepped in, carrying a heavy bag. No wonder he'd recommended Helena. They were all in this together.

Mike blanched and clenched his fists when he saw Tate lying in the hallway. "You said no one would get hurt."