"M-m-may I ask--"
"Steele." He gave only his last name. The name and identity he had been given eight years before.
She jerked the phone from its cradle, punched in a number with a jerky movement, and stuttered his name into the phone.
"Mr. Steele, Mr. Nelson's assistant will be right here." She laid the phone on the cradle as she glanced desperately at the small seating area off to the right. "It will be just a moment."
Nik had mercy on her. He stepped back from the receptionist's station, but he didn't sit. He moved to the edge of the lobby, placed his back against the wall, and waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
Maddix Nelson's assistant, Alison Chenkins, moved down the staircase that led to the upper floors rather than using the elevator. Dressed in slim black slacks and a white tailored blouse, with low heels, she gave the impression, a correct one, of quiet efficiency and confidence.
"Mr. Steele." She moved right to him, a slender hand reaching out in greeting. "Thank you for coming so promptly."
Nik's brow arched sarcastically as he accepted the handshake, careful not to pinch her hand in his much larger one.
"We can use the elevator or the stairs," she offered. "Mr. Nelson is in his office."
"Stairs are fine with me."
"Excellent." A friendly smile tugged at her lips as she turned and moved for the staircase. "If you'll follow me."
He followed, keeping a careful distance between himself and the assistant, his gaze constantly searching his surroundings.
Nik hadn't expected Nelson's favor to be called so quickly. Nor had Nik expected the message to come through a contact whom only a few people were aware of.
"I always take the stairs whenever possible." Alison Chenkins grinned back at Nik as they moved past the second floor. "The elevator is quicker, but the stairs are better for my hips."
"And give Maddix Nelson time to prepare himself," Nik stated quietly.
She almost paused on the steps before her smile turned cooler and the chatter stopped. She turned, and her pace quickened until they were pushing through the fourth-floor door and moving into the plush assistant's office outside Maddix Nelson's office.
Maddix didn't make Nik wait. He was standing in the door to his office, his dark hair brushed back, but not as neatly as Nik remembered it being before. There were added lines on Maddix's face, his brow creased with worry. Six weeks had wrought an almost devastating change to the man's face.
"Nik, thank you for coming." Maddix invited Nik into his office with a wave of his hand.
Nik glanced into the office, then to Maddix in a signal that the other man was to go first.
The other man gave a mirthless smile before stepping into the office.
Nik stepped inside as he tucked the motorcycle helmet under his arm to provide Tehya with clearer audio and visual coverage of the room.
"You contacted me through an unusual source, Mr. Nelson," Nik stated as he moved to the side of the room, putting the wall at his back. "Care to tell me why?"
Maddix ran his fingers through his hair, and it was obviously not the first time.
"I tried to reach you through Lilly Harrington and her fiance, Travis Caine, but they were out of the country and unavailable," Maddix stated quietly. "That only left the few contacts that I could find of Caine's to get a message to you."
Nik arched his brow again, remained silent, and waited. Maddix ran his hands over his face before sitting in the large chair behind his desk. His suit jacket lay over the back of the chair, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up haphazardly. The shirt was wrinkled, as were the slacks he wore. He looked like a man under pressure.
"It took a while," Maddix finally sighed. "I finally learned Caine was in Aspen last year and possibly knew Bailey Serborne Vincent. I contacted her husband, John Vincent, and looked into the possibility that he could help me contact you."
Nik leaned back in his chair then and watched Maddix silently for long moments. So that was how Maddix had known to contact John Vincent, code-named Heat Seeker, an undercover agent with the agency Nik worked in as well.
Maddix's knowledge of John had caused an edge of concern when Maddix had contacted Nik.
"How did you learn Travis was in Aspen?" Nik asked.
"Raymond Greer," Maddix answered. "I knew his wife, Mary, when we were younger. They were in D.C. several weeks ago, when Mary mentioned Bailey's marriage to John Vincent and John's friend Travis Caine standing as best man in the wedding."
How small the world was becoming, Nik thought.
"So, who do you need to rid yourself of?" Nik asked.
Nik's reputation had been created long before he had taken the identity. Nik Steele had been an assassin and thief, willing to take almost any job.
Maddix's expression reflected disbelief for several seconds. "No, you misunderstand, Nik. I don't want to get rid of someone. I want to find out why someone wants to get rid of me. Have you heard about the murder that took place at my building site outside of town?"
Nik narrowed his eyes. "A bit."
Tehya's information on it was as thorough and in depth as only Tehya could make it. He knew about every piece of evidence collected, the entire depth of the investigation, and the fact that Maddix was seen committing the murder at the time that he had an airtight alibi.
Maddix gave a mocking laugh, a bitter, angry sound.
"I can't understand it. I know that girl. I know her family. Her father worked for me, her cousins. Her brothers." He shook his head wearily. "She seemed like such a good girl, Steele. Mikayla Martin has never seemed like a psycho before, so what the hell happened?"
"I take it you're saying you didn't kill your foreman?" Nik asked as though he really didn't care.
"No, I didn't kill my damned foreman." Maddix shot Nik a disgusted look. "As I'm certain you already know, I was in an impromptu business meeting with the mayor, the chief of police, and several of our city leaders. But that damned girl refuses to believe it."
Maddix was out of his chair and pacing to the wide, historically old windows of his office and stared down at the traffic bustling below before turning back to Nik.
"I need your help," Maddix said, his wide, tanned face creasing in tiredness. "When you needed information, I provided it for you. When you needed the blueprints on the estate the Harringtons were using, I provided it, quietly. I was there when you needed me; now I need you. You said you owed me. Now I'm calling in the debt."