B008DKAYYQ EBOK (35 page)

Kathleen bit her lip, clearly uncertain.

“Tell me,” Bailey said. “Is it James? Is he—” She couldn’t complete the dreadful thought.

“If I tell you, I’ll be defying a direct order,” Kathleen said.

“Then defy it already.”

“It’s just that if it were my brother, I’d want to know.”

Bailey took a step toward her. “Whatever I have to say to keep you out of trouble, I’ll say it. Please just tell me what’s going on.”

Kathleen sat back on her heels. “James is helping us out.”

“How?”

“He’s wearing a wire and a special video camera at a meeting involving Ramsey and Kincaid. Between his testimony and the tapes, we’ll be able to take them both down.”

Bailey’s pulse tripped and raced. “When is this happening?”

“Now.”

Bailey’s heart stopped. “Now? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this before? I thought you were going to let me know as soon as James was found.”

“James wanted to tell you, but Sark said no. He sent me here to make sure you didn’t try to interfere.”

Bailey’s brain raced, latching onto something Kathleen had said before. “You said Ramsey.
Dixon
Ramsey?”

“Yes, he approached James with a deal to overthrow Kincaid together.”

“What kind of deal?” That would mean James had some kind of bargaining power, something Ramsey wanted. What could that possibly be?

“He and Ramsey would take over Kincaid’s operation.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Ramsey need James for that?” She heard Ramsey’s voice in her head:
“Killing you would be worth it just to see the look on your deadbeat brother’s face.”
“He hates James.”

Kathleen was staring up at her, and Bailey saw realization dawn in the agent’s eyes at the same time that it hit her.
 

“Oh, God. He’s going to kill my brother.”

Chapter 48

If Cole had had his cell phone, he would have called Bailey to let her know he would be late getting back to her. Traffic had come to a grinding halt because of an accident that had routed southbound interstate traffic onto Highway 41. Luckily, the radio was telling him that only a short stretch of interstate was closed, so the worst of the traffic should last less than ten miles. Even so, it would probably take him an hour to get from Kendall Falls to the beach house in Bonita Springs. That was an hour with Bailey that he would never be able to get back.

His chest tightened as he thought about the possibility of losing her to witness protection. Yet, he couldn’t wrap his brain around an alternative solution. His father was healthy now, but he was getting old. One of these days, he might get sick, and there was no one to take care of him but Cole. He didn’t even know where his sister was anymore. None of them had heard from her since she’d taken off. She hadn’t bothered to contact her own kids.

So that left him with the responsibility of caring for his father. Not that he minded. His father had given him a good, stable life. He’d put up with a lot when Cole had gone through his rebellious phases, and soon, it would be time for Cole to return the support.
 

Just as Bailey couldn’t be expected to let go of Austin, neither could Cole walk away from his responsibility to his own family.
 

* * *

Kathleen, rising quickly from where she’d knelt on the floor, set aside the tea kettle. “Bailey—”

“Ramsey is going to kill James. We have to stop him.”

“It’s too late. It’s going down right now.”

“Where?” Bailey heard the edge of hysteria in her own voice.

“I’m not telling you that.”

“It’s got to be Kincaid’s. If you came here to make sure I didn’t interfere, it’s got to be Kincaid’s. I wouldn’t know where else to go.” She thrust out her hand. “Give me your keys.”

“No.”

Bailey advanced on her. “You can’t stop me from going. I’m not under arrest here.”

Kathleen backed up a step, then squared her shoulders and stopped. “I’m allowed to take you into protective custody if I have to.” She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and let them dangle from one finger. “I won’t hesitate.”

Bailey figured the woman would enjoy cuffing and hauling Cole’s new lover off to jail. She switched gears. “If he were your brother, what would you do?”

“My brother wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“But if you knew his life was in danger, what would you do?”

“What I would do and what you can do are two different things. I’m a federal agent.”

“You’re a sister. A badge and a gun don’t change anything.”

“They change everything.”

“Then go with me. Take me there.”

Kathleen lifted one brow at the forcefulness of the demand. “Forget it.”

“Then call it off. Pull him out.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

A cell phone rang, and Kathleen started, then fumbled inside her jacket.

Bailey spotted the butt of the gun resting in the agent’s holster. Kathleen was right, she thought. A gun would change everything. She lunged.

Kathleen jerked back in surprise. “What the—” The soles of her shoes hit the water she’d spilled earlier, and both feet flew out from under her.

Bailey fell with her, shocked at the impact that had been diminished by the other woman’s body under her. Bailey scrambled off of her. “Oh, crap, are you okay?”

Kathleen groaned, lifting a hand to her head. Her red hair had spilled free when her cap had fallen off, and she kept her eyes closed, pain making her face scrunch up.

The woman was hurt but she’d be fine. Which was more than James would be if Bailey didn’t act fast. She snagged the handcuffs, snapped one bracelet around the agent’s wrist and the other around the handle of the broiler drawer of the oven near Kathleen’s head. “I’m sorry,” Bailey said. “I’m really, really sorry.”

The agent didn’t respond, her eyes still closed. She wasn’t unconscious, but she was obviously dazed and hurting.

The cell phone stopped ringing, and Bailey stared at it on the floor near Kathleen’s shoulder. She hadn’t been aware that it was still ringing, and now the silence was deafening.

Snatching it up, she punched the 9, intending to call 911, then paused.

She had to think about James.
 

Kathleen was hurt, yes. She probably needed medical attention. But she wasn’t unconscious, and she wasn’t bleeding.

Bailey checked her pulse. It was strong and steady, like an athlete’s.

She made her decision.
 

Leaning over the agent, she patted the woman down until she found the jacket pocket that held her car keys, then pulled them out. Grabbing the cap Kathleen had been wearing, Bailey sat back on her heels to gather her hair into a ponytail that she twisted on top of her head so she could secure the cap over it.

Staring down at the gun in Kathleen’s holster, she reached for it but stopped.

What she was about to do was foolish enough without adding a firearm that she didn’t know the first thing about using. Plus, she imagined people who stole weapons from federal agents got stiff prison sentences. She would face enough trouble for cuffing an agent to a stove. She left it.

Unable to think clearly enough to remember what she’d done with Cole’s cell phone after talking to A.J., she held on to Kathleen’s and headed into the bedroom, where she yanked dark pants out of her bag and changed into them. She didn’t have a jacket, but as she walked out of the beach house and into the fading afternoon sun, she moved carefully and confidently, hoping that the men watching the house wouldn’t notice that the agent who’d walked in had worn a jacket and that the woman who exited didn’t. Hopefully, the cap and black pants would be enough to throw them off. All she needed was for them to not make the connection until she was in the car and on her way.

Her fingers fumbled on the tiny remote on Kathleen’s key chain that would trip the car’s locks. God, her hands were violently shaking.
 

Opening the car door, she slid behind the wheel and thrust the key into the ignition. As she pulled out of the driveway, she glanced at the mailbox and repeated in her head the numbers displayed on it so she wouldn’t forget the address.

Once she was three blocks away, she used Kathleen’s cell phone to call 911.

“What is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“A woman is hurt at 2412 … uh … I don’t know the street name. It’s the main one that goes through Fort Myers Beach and into Bonita Springs. Estero Boulevard?”

“Estero Boulevard becomes Hickory Boulevard in Bonita.”

“Yes, that’s it. 2412 Hickory Boulevard.”

“Is the victim conscious?”

“Yes. She slipped in some water. I think she hit her head.”

“Is anyone with her?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Look, just send paramedics. 2412 Hickory Boulevard. Have you got that?”

“Yes, I’m dispatching an ambulance—”

Bailey cut off the call and tossed the phone into the passenger seat.

Chapter 49

The sun had set by the time Cole steered his SUV into the driveway of the beach house and parked, looking forward to his first hello kiss from Bailey. He vowed that there would be many more in the future, somehow, some way.

He gave the FBI guards a wave as he went to the front door, then knocked before using the key Kathleen had given him, not wanting to startle Bailey when he walked in.

The door was unlocked.

Puzzled, he pushed it open, registering the distant shriek of sirens. “Bailey?”

“Cole.”

The voice, weak and pained, came from the kitchen. His heart jackhammering, he raced toward it. “Bailey!”

The sight that greeted him stopped him cold. Kathleen was trying to sit up, as if she had just regained consciousness. She was shackled to the lower handle of the oven by a pair of nickel-plated handcuffs.
 

“Where’s Bailey?” Cole demanded.

“She took off.” Kathleen was pale, her movements stiff, as if every flex of muscle hurt. She jerked her wrist against the cuffs in frustration. “Would you give me a hand here?”

Cole couldn’t force himself to move. “What happened to her?”
 

Kathleen glared at him through the hair hanging in her eyes. “Nothing happened to her,” she snapped, digging her fingers into a front pants pocket and pulling out a tiny key that she tried to work into one of the manacles. “
She
happened to
me
.”

Nausea rose into the back of his throat. “She
hit
you?”

“Yes.” She gingerly rubbed the back of her head. “No. I don’t know. I’m a little fuzzy on the details. But I know for damn sure that she handcuffed me.”

“Why?”

“Because I opened my big mouth.”

Pounding on the front door cut off his next question, and two federal agents barreled in, guns drawn. “Nobody move!”

“The situation is under control!” Kathleen shouted, then winced. “Ah, damn it.”

Cole knelt beside her and seized the key from her fumbling fingers. “Like hell it’s under control.” He popped the cuff open. “Now tell me what you said to Bailey and where she is.”

Kathleen rubbed her reddened wrist. “I told her James is helping us nail Kincaid. My guess would be that she’s on her way to Kincaid’s right now.”

A buzzing started in Cole’s head, like a swarm of wasps bearing down on the idiot who’d disturbed their nest. Someone behind him asked him to move aside so Kathleen could be checked out. He didn’t budge, his gaze fastened on her. “Why would you tell her that?”

“I thought she had a right to know. Besides, I didn’t think she’d knock me unconscious, cuff me with my own handcuffs and take off.” Moaning, she pressed the heel of her hand to the center of her forehead. “Somebody please get me some Tylenol.”

“Did she take your gun?”
 

“No. But she took my cell phone. A lot of good that’s going to do her.”

* * *

Bailey parked in front of Payne Kincaid’s iron gate and stared at the giant K that adorned its bars.

This was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

What was she going to do? Walk unarmed into the middle of who knows what?

She needed a plan. Even part of a plan.

She needed Cole. He would know what to do.

Let the feds handle it, he’d say.

But the feds had sent her brother into almost certain death. Ramsey had no use for James. No use at all. Wearing a wire wasn’t going to protect him unless the feds were standing right outside the door, which of course, they weren’t.
 

They didn’t even seem to be in the neighborhood. She had looked for unobtrusive vans parked along the quiet, palm tree-lined streets and seen none. That didn’t mean they weren’t parked somewhere else nearby, but they certainly weren’t anywhere near the gate, the only way onto Payne’s property.