Son of a Gun (10 page)

Emma pushed a lock of chin-length bobbed hair behind her right ear. “It started as a planned two-week island-hopping adventure to the Caribbean with my friend and coworker Dorothy Paul.”

“When was this?” Damien asked, trying to keep events clear in his mind.

“Last March. We’d been planning the trip for months, but two weeks before we were scheduled to go, Dorothy’s car started giving her trouble. She decided to put the money she’d saved for vacation on a new car.”

“So you went alone?”

“I did. That was mistake number one.”

“I take it there were complications,” he said, trying to get her to keep talking.

“Major complications, but not until five days into the trip. Up until then, I was having the time of my life, sipping tropical drinks in paradise and soaking up the sun on gorgeous strips of surf-washed sand.”

And no doubt driving men wild with her blond hair and her great body in a tiny bikini. Better he didn’t let his mind go there. “What happened to spoil the trip?”

“A private boat we’d charted ahead of time picked me up and took me to Misterioso Island, one of the few gems still mostly unspoiled by tourists.”

“Where exactly is Misterioso?”

“It’s part of the southern island chain in the Lesser Antilles, not far from Aruba and less than thirty miles from Venezuela. I fell in love with the island the second I stepped off the vessel. The hotel was a like a movie set, with wide verandas and flowers everywhere. And the sea was a shade of blue that was positively mystical.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“Yes, but unfortunately, Misterioso turned out to be the entrance to hell.”

Her shoulders slumped and a haunted look glazed her eyes. Unless she was Oscar quality at faking emotions, she was telling the truth now, and reliving the events was taking its toll.

“If you’d like, I can get you some coffee, tea, water—or something a lot stronger.”

“No. Just let me get through this before I crater and dissolve into tears or fury. I’ve had my share of both.”

“Feel free to let it all hang out. This house has seen plenty of both over the years.”

“Not like this. The first night on the island, I spotted this fabulous yacht anchored offshore. When I asked about it, the hotel staff eagerly filled me in on the details. The yacht’s owner was a handsome and extremely wealthy entrepreneur who made infrequent stops at their island. But when he did, he created a stir.”

“Big spender?”

“Always. He paid for everything in cash and left huge tips, sometimes as much as a hundred dollars for a drink, or what amounted to a hundred dollars had it been in American currency. That was a fortune to the lucky staff who received the generous tips. They fought to see who could do the most for him.”

“Was he American?”

“No. European, a cosmopolitan mix of nationalities, I think.”

“Did he speak English?”

“Fluently. And also Spanish, Portuguese, French, German, Italian and perhaps others. That’s basically all I know of his background since he never shared personal information about himself. He thrived on combining the ostentatious with the clandestine. And on maintaining complete control of every aspect of his environment, including people.”

“You still haven’t mentioned his name.”

“Because I hate even saying it out loud. And because telling you opens the door even wider for you to get involved in my problems and with this monster.”

“I’m not going to do anything foolish.” That was the best he could promise.

“Caudillo.”

She spat it out as if it would burn if it lingered on her lips.

“A warlord,” he said, acknowledging the word’s meaning.

“Right, and it was an apt moniker for him, though I can think of a few others that would fit even better.”

“Was that a first name or a last name?”

“It was the only name he ever used whenever I was around. I seriously doubt it was legitimate.”

“So how did you hook up with him?”

“He had dinner on the island that first night. He invited me to his table, said it was bad luck to eat alone in paradise. Corny, I know, but I was in a fantasy-vacation frame of mind. At any rate, for the rest of the evening, he centered all his attention on me.”

Damien pictured the two of them in the island paradise and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.

“We spent the next two days together,” Emma continued, “walking on the beach, swimming in the surf, dining on seafood delicacies and sipping expensive wines that he supplied from his onboard selections. It was the perfect island experience. A bit surreal. Temporary. And seemingly harmless.”

“I take it Caudillo had a darker side.”

“Try midnight-black. But he was charming when it suited his purposes. It never once dawned on me that he already knew a lot about me or that my job back in Nashville was what attracted him to me.”

This was growing more bizarre by the minute. “What’s your job?”

“I
was
a tech agent with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.”

“What specifically does a tech agent do?”

“They can have any number of duties. Mine was to track sales of automatic weapons and to report any suspicious or bulk movement of arms. I worked out of the Nashville office and had for five years.”

“So back to Caudillo.”

“He invited me to dinner on his yacht. We watched the sun set from one of his many decks and then he gave a toast to our sharing a long and fulfilling relationship. I sipped the wine. That’s the last thing I remember. When I came to, the yacht was cruising across the Caribbean, and Misterioso Island had disappeared from sight.”

“He kidnapped you?”

“And held me captive for ten horrifying months before I escaped to the Mexican mainland, changed my appearance and crossed the U.S. border under the radar, knowing it would be watched by Caudillo and his henchmen. You know the rest of the story.”

Rage erupted inside Damien with a vehemence that sent adrenaline rushing though his veins. He hated to even imagine what this man had put her through while he held her captive.

Humiliation…torture…rape… His stomach clenched. “Where did he take you?”

“To his Caribbean-style mansion on his private island of Enmascarado, though parts of it were more like a fortress.”

“From which he sold illegal arms,” Damien said, quickly putting that part of the puzzle together. “Was he arming drug cartels?”

“I’m not sure who he did business with, but I can tell you that no matter how ruthless and evil his customers were, they can’t compare to Caudillo.”

And Emma had been with this psychopath for ten long months. A sick realization ground in his gut. “Is Belle Caudillo’s daughter?”

Emma shook her head. “No, nor is she mine.”

“Wait, you’re not Belle’s mother?”

“I told you this was complicated.”

He listened as she told him about Belle’s mother dying in the back of the truck and of how Emma had claimed to be her mother to save her life.

But his mind was still on Caudillo, and fury boiled inside Damien with the wrath of a wildfire.

“Did Caudillo or his henchmen hurt you?”

Emma stood and walked to the window. “I can’t go there yet, Damien. One day soon, maybe, but not yet. I’m alive and I’m free of him. I want to stay that way.”

And he wouldn’t push that on her. “I understand.”

“The main thing you need to understand is that Caudillo is a heartless, cold-blooded killer.”

She pulled her arms tight across her chest and continued staring out the window as if the view could separate her from the images in her head.

“I saw him shoot a man in the head because he brought me food when Damien had ordered him not to.”

Curses flew to Damien’s lips before he could stop them. “Did he force you to have sex with him?”

“No.” For the first time since she’d started talking, the muscles in her face relaxed. “The first time he tried, I got so sick I threw up in his face. He stomped away in disgust. Apparently splattering brains didn’t faze him, but vomit turned him off forever. But only enough to keep from raping me. Sexual torment became his favorite game.”

“That’s over now. You’re free of him.”

“He’ll never accept that. Caudillo is going to come looking for me, Damien, and you don’t want to be in my life when he does. Even if I didn’t know too much for him to let me live, he’d track me down and kill just to prove that no one betrays him and gets away with it. This is why you can’t tell anyone about him and why you can’t talk of my being kidnapped. Not even to your brothers.”

“You’re back in America, Emma. Go to the FBI. Tell them everything you’ve told me. They’ll see that you’re safe and that Caudillo is arrested.”

“It’s not that simple. Caudillo has connections in high places. He mentioned names of people in my office and told me things about them he wouldn’t have known unless he had a source here. He even mentioned sources with the FBI.”

“He could have been lying.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t lying when he told me that my disappearing was the media highlight of every cable news station for months. If I ever escaped and returned to the States, I’d be all over the news again. He’d track me easily and then he’d teach me the true meaning of torture.”

“You can’t hide from this man and his threats the rest of your life, Emma. And you can’t let him continue to kidnap women at will.”

“I don’t plan to, but I have to have time to think this through, Damien. You don’t know what it’s like to live in captivity. You can’t know how the fear eats at you when you never know if you’ll be shot for merely asking for water.”

She was right. He had no concept of that kind of fear. Emma was scared out of her wits but still worrying over an orphaned infant who had been pressed into her charge. But once she walked away from Bent Pine Ranch, there was no one to watch over her.

He stepped closer. “I’ll keep your secrets, Emma—under one condition.”

“What is that?”

“You stay with me and let me protect you.”

She buried her head in her hands. When she looked up, her eyes were moist. “You don’t know how much I’d love to say yes to that offer.”

“Then say it.”

“I can’t. I can’t put you or your family in danger.”

Damien walked over and took both her hands in his. “I won’t put my family in danger, Emma, but I can’t let you deal with this man on your own again. I have powerful connections, too, and resources that you don’t. Let me help. At least stay a few days until we can locate Belle’s father.”

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

“It’s the only sane thing to do. If you won’t do it for you, do it for Belle.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“In that case, I don’t see how I can refuse. I just hope you don’t live to rue this day, Damien.”

So did he. He wasn’t worried about offering his help. That was a given. He wasn’t convinced Caudillo would be crazy enough to come after her again. And as for his claims of connections in high places, those could be bogus, as well. Not that Damien wouldn’t take all that into consideration. And he would make damn sure he kept his family safe.

But the biggest fear of the moment was that his libido was reacting too strongly to her, and that was the last thing she needed now.

Damien let go of her hands and stepped away. “Now we just have to decide how little we can tell the sheriff and still convince him you’re innocent.”

And how much he could tell his brothers without breaking his promise to Emma.