don’t you try an extra half hour of meditation tonight,” Greene suggested. “We’ll explore your feelings in more depth during the group session tomorrow.”
Jordan almost choked on her guava juice. Oh, great! That’s all she needed. An hour listening to another female explore her carnal feelings for Thomas Jackson Scott.
She soon discovered the much-divorced Waller-Winston wasn’t the only woman at the institute with an interest in Scott. Nudging Jordan in the ribs, the blonde directed her attention to the slender Eurasian who stopped TJ at the door.
“That’s the spa director. Liana Wu. The bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, look at her. She’s got that tiny, porcelain-doll thing going. I refuse to stand anywhere close to the woman. She makes me look like a knob-kneed giraffe.”
If Felicity towered over the spa director, Jordan would dwarf her. The possibility didn’t particularly concern her. She’d long ago learned to use her five-nine height to her advantage.
“Rumor is,” Felicity confided, “Liana baby is hot for our boy TJ.”
No surprise there, Jordan thought in disgust. Scott had snagged her interest at their first meeting. Angry all over again at herself for falling for the crooked cop, she turned away.
Dinner was a long, lingering affair. Afterward, Jordan walked back to her bungalow through a scented night, stopping at a scenic overlook to prop her elbows on the trunk of a palm that curved at waist level.
The surveillance cameras she knew were scattered throughout the grounds would capture the image of a mainlander lost to the majesty of the surf foaming white against black cliffs. The ocean’s roar would serve as a natural sound buffer for her report to OMEGA. Folding her arms, Jordan toyed absently with her earring. One flick activated the transmitter.
“This is Diamond.”
Claire came on within a few seconds. “Cyrene here. I read you, Diamond.”
Lightning chimed in as well. “I’m here, too.”
The fact that her boss was still at the control center despite the late hour D.C. time didn’t surprise Jordan. Not with the kind of political pressure OMEGA was facing on this mission. She gave him the names of the guests she’d met at dinner and a rundown of her earlier encounter with Greene and his financial adviser.
“They’re interested. Definitely interested. Myers volunteered to get me in good with his pals in Colombia. He’s going to help me work a deal on an emerald supply.”
“Nice of him.”
“Isn’t it? I suspect he’ll pocket a fat broker’s fee.”
“Or skim more off the top of Greene’s business deals with the Colombians.”
“Speaking of skimming,” she said, scowling at the pinpricks of iridescent green glittering in the dark depths of the sea, “did Cyrene tell you TJ Scott was waiting for me when I arrived?”
“She did.”
Lightning didn’t ask the question, but Jordan answered it anyway.
“Scott still claims he was set up.”
“You were there. What do you think?”
What she thought about Thomas Jackson Scott would blister the airwaves. Reining in her anger, Jordan answered as coolly as she could.
“I’m keeping him in my sights.”
Five thousand miles away, Lightning shared a quick look with Cyrene. Any target Diamond got in her crosshairs was a walking corpse.
“I’m going to do some night work a little later,” she told them. “Pay another visit to Greene’s office. Among other things, I want to see what kind of information he gathered on Scott before hiring him.”
“Keep us posted,” Lightning instructed. “And be careful.”
“Will do.”
Cyrene cut the transmission and added a note in her electronic log, while Nick digested Diamond’s report. He trusted both her skills and her instincts or he wouldn’t have sent her in. As far as he knew, those instincts had failed her only once. Thoughtfully, he met Claire’s glance.
“Pull up everything you can on TJ Scott. I want the names of the officers who busted him. The pimps and dealers he put the squeeze on. The judge who threw out his case. The address of his favorite pizza joint. Where he buys his underwear. Everything.”
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