Danger Close (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 1) (27 page)

"He suffered a massive stroke about an hour ago. His state is critical," Ricardo insisted. "Maddy must leave with me as soon as possible."

His urgent stare drove home the seriousness of her father's condition. Maddy pushed her chair back and came unsteadily to her feet. The food she'd just swallowed threatened to return.

Ricardo caught her elbow, steadying her on her feet and drawing her inexorably toward the door.

Her uncle remained seated, a frown of deep concern upon his face.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Paul." Maddy met his gaze over her shoulder. "I have to go."

He sent her a faint nod. Still in his seat, he watched as Ricardo hurried her out of the room.

Ricardo's stride lengthened as they entered the hallway and headed for the home's enormous double doors. Hearing footsteps behind them, Maddy pulse leaped to see Elliot stalking them, a scowl on his face, his pistol trained on their backs. Ricardo pulled the door open and pushed her outside, where the sky had already darkened to a bruised hue.

"This way," he hissed, shutting the door in Elliot's face and tugging Maddy across the semi-lit yard toward the exterior wall and the wrought iron gate. It stood open, with the Jeep parked just inside. Someone was sitting in the driver's seat.

Behind them, the door of the house creaked open, and Ricardo pulled Maddy into a trot.

"Run," he urged, but dread had turned her legs to rubber leaving her less than coordinated, and her thoughts swam in confusion. Why was Elliot pursuing them?

At last they reached the Jeep. Ricardo snatched open the passenger door, threw the seat forward, and all but tossed her into the back before hopping up front.

As she settled into the rear seat, Maddy recognized the man behind the wheel. "Sam!" she exclaimed. Mystification undermined her delight at seeing him so unexpectedly. "What are you doing here?"

"Keep your head down," he warned with the barest glance over his shoulder.

Ricardo hadn't even shut the door behind himself before the engine whined and the Jeep flew into reverse, shooting out of the gate tail-first.

Maddy groped for her seat belt. Why on earth was Sam even here? And why were both men behaving like their very lives were in danger?

The Jeep braked abruptly then lurched forward, tires spinning on the dirt road before gaining purchase and shooting them swiftly away. Maddy braved a peek through the rear window and caught a glimpse of Elliot at the gate, pistol raised as if to shoot.

But they were safely out of range now, barreling down the winding hill that she'd traversed in her uncle's car two hours earlier.

* * *

"What is it, Elliot?" Paul demanded. He sat at the table, cellphone pressed to his ear, willing Lyle to answer his call. Something about Maddy's abrupt departure smacked of conspiracy.

Elliot's pen had run out of ink. Giving up on scribbling a note, the giant tossed the implement onto the table and spoke with his pronounced lisp. "I daw dat navy deaw in da caw."

For once, Paul understood right away what his bodyguard said. "You saw the Navy SEAL? The one I recognized from the party photos on Facebook?"

They'd shared a similar conversation the night Paul had met with the SEAL task unit about the plight of Well 23. Elliot grunted his assent.

"Damn it!" Paul thrust an accusing finger in the former wrestler's face. "This is your fault," he declared. "I told you he might have recognized you the other night. I should have known your fame would be a liability. What if he suspects who's behind the shooting?" Paul shoved back his chair and pushed to his feet. "Why are you just standing there?" he bellowed. "Go get the car ready. We have to stop them before that man's testimony ruins everything!"

Elliot gave a nod and bolted in the direction of the five-car garage.

With a heavy sigh, Paul leaned his weight onto the table. His thoughts raced before him. Had the SEAL conveyed his suspicions yet to Lyle Scott? Why else would Lyle not be taking Paul's calls? They'd been best friends for decades. Hell, they would have been equal partners but for the fact it was Lyle's money that had financed their oil business.

Paul, however, had been the one to find the most lucrative areas for drilling, including the untapped energy stores of El Chaco, Paraguay. Without his instincts, Scott Oil Corporation would never have prospered and flourished the way it had. In the back of Paul's mind had lurked the certainty that, one day, his devotion would pay off, and Lyle would pursue his political aspirations, leaving him in charge.

Sure enough, he had. And now that Paul's power and wealth were unparalleled, he had discovered an unyielding determination to retain what he had earned, no matter the cost.

He could never relinquish the reins of control back to Lyle. Just as he could not have allowed his little sister to persuade her husband
not
to drill in El Chaco simply because it would harm the stinking environment. Some things had to be done, regardless of the hardship it placed on others, especially if a profit might be made. Paul refused to let his newfound elevated status slip from his grasp when he had labored all his life to make Scott Oil as lucrative as it could possibly be.

He sought to reassure himself. How likely was it that the testimony, practically hearsay of a stranger, could threaten a lifetime bond? Not likely at all. Still, Paul couldn't take the risk. Whatever it took to stop the SEAL, he had to do.

* * *

"What is going on?" Maddy demanded as they sped pell-mell down the dark road. "I thought you left Paraguay today," she said to Sam.

Before he could answer Ricardo twisted in his seat to look back at her. "Maddy, I lied to you. Your father didn't have a heart attack."

Relief blended with confusion, putting her thoughts in a tailspin. "He didn't? Why—why on earth would you make that up?"

Sam answered on Ricardo's behalf. "To get you away from your uncle."

"My uncle?" Was that why he'd stayed behind? "What's wrong with my uncle?"

Tension seemed to radiate from Sam's stiffly held body as he guided the Jeep down the dark, winding road. "Remember the man who tried shooting your father at the party?" he asked.

"Of course." How could she forget?

"He's your uncle's bodyguard."

It took Maddy a minute to associate Elliot with the shadowy figure Sam had wrestled with in the woods.

"I thought he looked familiar when your uncle met with my task unit last week," Sam continued. "But it took some extra intel to make the connection."

They all braced themselves as he took a hair-pin turn on two tires.

Goose bumps stitched over every inch of Maddy's skin as she paused to consider his words. If her uncle's bodyguard had tried to kill her father, then that would mean...

"I don't believe you," she said. His allegation threatened the very foundation of her existence. It just wasn't possible.

He tore his gaze from the road to glance into the mirror at her. "I wouldn't make this up, Maddy," he said with pity in his voice.

"No." She shook her head, still refusing to accept his claim. "My uncle would never harm my father. They were friends even before my parents met. And he's my mother's brother. He was just telling me how much he misses her. Why would he want my father dead when Daddy's given Uncle Paul everything he has?"

"Why do you think?" Sam asked, on that same pitying note. "With your father out of the picture, he's in charge of Scott Oil forever. The only person who could threaten his succession is you."

"Me?" Maddy exclaimed.

"Who inherits Scott Oil when your father dies?" he challenged.

Another rash of goose bumps sprouted on Maddy's skin. "I don't know. I never thought about it." Had her father made her his primary beneficiary? "But you're wrong, in any case. Uncle Paul would never hurt my father. And he would certainly never hurt me."

"How do you know?" Sam's tone had hardened subtly.

"Because we're family!"

A weighty silence followed her declaration, alleviated only by the sound of wind whistling through the cracked windows as they careened toward the brightly lit town.

"What does my father say about all this?" Maddy demanded. Surely
he
didn't believe Sam's ridiculous allegation.

"Let's just say he wasn't willing to risk your life tonight," Sam clipped. "Unlike you, he hasn't rejected my testimony out of hand. He's bringing the FBI with him, and we're meeting him in Asunción tomorrow to discuss Van Slyke's motives."

"You seriously think my uncle was going to harm me tonight?" Maddy couldn't fathom it. "
You
knew I was having dinner with him. My father knew it. If my uncle had tried to kill me, he'd go straight to jail and end up with nothing. Besides, I wasn't in any danger whatsoever. I was actually enjoying myself!"

Sam set his jaw and kept silent. Slowing at the approaching intersection, he ignored the stop sign and swung them out onto a trafficked main road, speeding them toward town.

"I'll be flying you to Asunción tonight," Ricardo said into the crackling silence.

Maddy sat forward, her blood flashing to a boil as she shifted her glance between the two men. "You know what? I've had it up to here with being told where I'm going next!"

Sam gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles stood out in silhouette. "And I've had it up to here with you resisting what's in your best interest," he retorted.

Ricardo emitted a chuckle of genuine amusement. "You two are birds of a feather."

"I am nothing like her," Sam bit out.

"That's not what you said the other day." Maddy threw herself back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. Scowling, she glared outside at the darkness while the sweet memories of her and Sam's last encounter raked her heart. "I don't want to leave the area," she insisted, focusing on her immediate plans to do more testing. "I have critical work to do here."

"You can come back after the FBI investigates your uncle," Sam promised harshly. It occurred to Maddy that he was perhaps as tired of rescuing her from peril as she was tired of being rescued.

With growing disappointment, she watched the lights of Mariscal Estigarribia brighten as they entered the city limits. Elliot couldn't possibly be the shooter in McLean, she told herself. All big, burly men looked the same, didn't they? And now Sam's confusion was leading to her premature departure when there was work yet to be done.

It was like Matamoros all over again.

"Oh, hell, what's this?" Sam groused, focusing her attention on the road before them.

Looking up, Maddy saw that both lanes were clogged with traffic, mostly vans with strange contraptions mounted on their roofs. A large number of people seemed to be standing on the street. Even in the dark, she could make out a dozen individuals milling around her condominium, some of them on cell phones. One woman stood under a hand-held spotlight with the wall of the military installation at her back and a microphone in her hand.

"It looks like the press," Ricardo replied.

"Maddy, don't let them see you," Sam requested. "Keep your head down."

"I'll find a way around it," Ricardo promised, reaching out to program the GPS. "In the meantime, turn down this alley." He pointed to the narrow side street next to them.

"I can't even go home first?" Maddy protested. She'd intended to call her father in private and discuss the situation with him first. Who knew? He might relent and let her stay another week.

Ignoring her question, Sam turned down the alley headed away from her condo.

In sullen silence, Maddy watched the beams of their headlights bounce before them as they progressed awkwardly through the roads more fit for foot-traffic than for cars. A sense of unreality enveloped her as Sam continued to drive and Ricardo tossed out directions.

In her line of work, she had always remained vigilant against such threats as terrorism, violence, anti-American sentiment, even disease. Danger had never taken on this particular specter.

What if Sam was right and her uncle was behind the shooting in McLean? Doubt pricked her briefly.
No way.
Uncle Paul would have to be utterly without a conscience to turn on his best friend and brother-in-law.

Her heart accelerated suddenly, pounding like pistons in a high-octane engine.

She clapped a hand over her jumping breastbone.
What on earth?
It had to be a belated adrenaline rush. Or maybe this disagreement was Sam was taking a toll on her emotions. If they were going to attempt a relationship after this, they were going to have to get past this rather serious hiccup.

Given the way Sam was behaving now, his mouth clamped shut as he focused on getting her to the airfield as swiftly as possible, continuing a relationship with her seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

Chapter 15